The Last Assassin

nothing but a sick joke by comparison.
    A pretty young woman sat to the right of the bed, a sleeping infant in her arms. Tatsu’s daughter, I realized. He had told me the last time I saw him that his first grandson had just been born.
    I hesitated, feeling I was intruding, but Tatsu waved me in. “Hisashiburi,” he said weakly. It’s been a while. He nodded to the bodyguard and the man left.
    A number of lies came to my lips, but none made it farther than that. “Damn, Tatsu,” I said, shaking my head, looking at him. “Damn.”
    He nodded weakly as if to say, Yes, I know, then gestured to the woman next to him. “My daughter, Kaoru. And grandson, Arihiro.” His eyes were sunken but they lit up with his smile.
    I bowed to the woman. “It’s good to meet you,” I said stiffly.
    Because of the baby, she stayed in her seat, but bowed her head. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said. “You help my father in his work.”
    I glanced at Tatsu. “I try to.”
    Tatsu said, “Don’t tell him what I say.”
    The woman smiled. “Only good things.”
    I nodded. “He’s probably lying, then.”
    Tatsu chuckled. The woman stood up, the child in one arm, her free hand on Tatsu’s shoulder. “I should get the baby home,” she said. “Feed him and put him to bed.”
    “Yes,” Tatsu said. “Go. My friend here doesn’t talk much, but he’s good company.”
    Tatsu turned toward the woman with a slight grimace, and she lowered the baby and held him there. Tatsu whispered something in the child’s ear, and then, with another grimace, moved closer and kissed him softly on the cheek. He eased back onto the bed and let out a long breath.
    “I’ll see you tomorrow,” the woman said, her hand on his shoulder again.
    Tatsu nodded. “Yes. Bring the little one.”
    The woman smiled and said, “Of course.” She walked to the door and turned to me. “Thank you,” she said. I wasn’t sure for what. I bowed, and she was gone.
    Tatsu looked at me and gestured to the chair. “Let’s talk, my friend. You didn’t bring any good whiskey, did you?”
    I sat down beside him. “I thought you were off that stuff. Wife’s orders.”
    He looked at me with the trademark wry expression he reserved for moments of stupidity too monumental to bear comment, and for an instant he looked like himself again. “Well, it doesn’t matter very much now, does it?” he said.
    “It’s bad?”
    The wry look gave way to a smile, as though this was the most amusing conversation he had had in a long time. “What do you think?” he said.
    We were quiet for a moment. I asked, “How long?”
    He shrugged. “A few weeks, maybe.”
    Christ. “They can’t…”
    “Gastric cancer. Stage four. It’s already in the lymph nodes, the esophagus…that’s why I’ve lost all this weight. I can’t hold anything down.”
    “The whiskey would have been a waste, then.”
    He chuckled. “I could have just smelled it.”
    We were quiet again.
    He said, “I assume you’re still interested in finishing Yamaoto?”
    I didn’t know what to say. He had so little time, it didn’t seem fair to make him use it talking about this. But then I realized, That’s what he wants, maybe even what he needs.
    “I’m still interested.”
    “Good. The delivery will be at Wajima harbor.”
    “Wajima…”
    “On the Noto Peninsula, Ishikawa prefecture. The Sea of Japan. The gangs avoid large ports because of better security in the major facilities. They prefer quiet places like Fushiki in Toyama, Minamata in Kumamoto, Hososhima in Miyazaki.”
    “Or this time, Wajima.”
    “Yes. Yamaoto’s men have made reservations at an inn there called Notonosho. The area is known for a hot spring, Nebuta, and apparently these men like the waters. Their names are Kito and Sanada, but they might be traveling under something else.”
    “What timing are we talking about?”
    “They arrive the day after tomorrow. The delivery will be the night after that. My informant still doesn’t know how many Chinese will be involved. But my guess is no more than three. Otherwise the two yakuza would feel uncomfortable.”
    I was thinking the same thing, but I only nodded.
    “Rain-san, forgive me, but you’re not as young as you used to be. Can you…”
    “Look who’s talking,” I said.
    He laughed.
    “Don’t worry,” I told him. “I’ve got help.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “Anyone I know?”
    I shook my head. “What about you? I know you’re a workaholic,