Hard Rain

had decided to circumvent a congressional ban on funds
    to the Nicaraguan contras by selling arms to Iranian "moderates" and
    channeling the resulting proceeds to the contras without Congress's
    knowledge. Oliver North was a National Security Council staffer who
    ran the program day to day. When the program leaked, his betters in
    the NSC and the White House blamed him, as a way of escaping
    prosecution, for having instigated and run the program without their
    knowledge."
    Kanezaki paled. "I hadn't thought about it that way," he said, looking
    from left to right as though trying to rediscover his bearings. "Oh
    man, oh man, you're right, this really could be like Iran Contra. I
    don't know who dreamed up
    Crepuscular in the first place, but someone terminated it, maybe
    Langley, or the NSC, or maybe even the Senate Select Committee on
    Intelligence. And now Tokyo Station is still running it, I'm still
    running it, with funds from some source outside of Congress's purview.
    Oh man, oh man."
    I had a feeling he was imagining himself getting sworn in before some
    special congressional committee established to investigate the latest
    scandal, sitting alone, his hand raised, the congressmen and their
    staffers prim and hypocritical behind their polished wooden dais, the
    video camera lights hot and blinding, while his superiors clucked their
    tongues and leaked to the press about the talented young CIA officer
    whose overly strong convictions had made him turn rogue.
    Tatsu turned to me. "I have something for you."
    I raised my eyebrows.
    "Kawamura Midori. It seems that, in her zeal to locate you, she
    retained a Japanese private investigative firm. Many of these firms
    are staffed with ex-Keisatuscho and other law enforcement officials,
    and I have contacts among several. She knew where your friend lived
    and gave the firm his address. They attempted to follow him, but
    apparently were unable to do so because he was surveillance conscious.
    They did not learn your whereabouts. I believe this is why
    Kawamura-san came to my office recently with threats of a scandal. Her
    other means of locating you had not proven useful."
    She must have been using an inheritance from her old man the fruits of
    the corruption that had enriched him and disgusted her. There was some
    irony there.
    I thought of the way she had seemed evasive at the Imperial. Now I
    knew why. She'd hired a PI to tail Harry and didn't want to tell me.
    "These PI firms," I said. "Are any of them connected to
    Yamaoto?"
    "Doubtless."
    "That's why he put Yukiko on Harry," I said, finally seeing it. "It
    wasn't the Agency's request they didn't tell him Harry was connected to
    me. It was Midori's PI people. She would have told them that they
    were following Harry to find me. When that information got back to
    Yamaoto, he wanted his own coverage better coverage than the PI firm,
    or even the Agency, would be capable of. Her job was to stay close,
    really close, and learn as much as she could to help them get to me."
    I pictured it. Yamaoto, probably through intermediaries, got Harry's
    boss to take Harry out to 'celebrate' about that happy client. Harry's
    boss wouldn't know the purpose of all this, just where and when he was
    supposed to show up with Harry. Yukiko was waiting there, with a line
    about configuring her Macintosh and bedroom eyes behind it. Harry
    swallowed the whole thing without a burp. He led Yukiko and her
    employers straight back to his apartment, and eventually to me.
    "Why kill him, though?" Kanezaki asked.
    I shrugged, thinking of the way Murakami had growled Your name isn't
    Ami. It's Rain. "They'd learned who I was and knew where to find me.
    They didn't need Harry anymore after that. And Yukiko would have
    learned about some of his skills he was former NSA, a crack hacker.
    They would have viewed him as an asset of mine. Best to take him off
    the board."
    I thought of how deeply Harry had been in denial, how hostile he'd been
    to any suggestion that Yukiko might be setting him up. I sighed.
    "That's probably how they found out who I was, too," I said. "Harry
    and I had an argument about the girl. He probably told her he had a
    friend who said this and that, a friend her boss had recently taken to
    Damask Rose. They might have put two and two together from that. Or
    they might have shown the video from the club to Yamaoto, who knows my
    face. It doesn't matter. Once they knew, they decided Harry had
    outlived his usefulness."
    There was a