The Last Assassin

thought. How would Rain get access to the particulars of the Wajima meeting? The man was formidable, but he wasn’t supernatural. The more likely explanation was the simpler one: a turncoat, either in Yamaoto’s organization or Big Liu’s, working with people outside, and motivated by nothing more complicated than greed.
    Besides, Rain was still in hiding. There had been no sign of him in New York, where Big Liu’s people were watching Midori and her child and where Yamaoto expected Rain would resurface if he resurfaced at all.
    Now that he thought of it, though, he realized Chan in New York was overdue to call him. Ordinarily the man checked in at least once a week to update him on the New York surveillance operation, but now Yamaoto realized he hadn’t heard from Chan in, what…eight days? Nine?
    Chan had been late once before, but Yamaoto had told Big Liu about it and there hadn’t been a problem since. He imagined Chan didn’t like reporting to a Japanese, but that’s what he was getting paid for, and Yamaoto was irritated that the man was being lazy and disrespectful again.
    If Big Liu had still been on the phone, Yamaoto would have mentioned it to him. But there had been more pressing things on his mind just then. Well, it wasn’t a material thing, just an annoyance. If Chan had anything to report, presumably he would have done so. Yamaoto would mention it to Big Liu when they met on Saturday. They’d straighten it out then.
    He heard Kuro saying, “Kumicho,” and realized the man had been trying to get his attention.
    “Yes,” Yamaoto said, looking at him.
    “Shall I…shall I have them taken away?”
    Kito and Sanada. It was a shame he had needed to dispatch them. Most likely they were guilty only of incompetence, not of betrayal. They had come to him hoping for mercy, and look what he had been forced to do instead.
    “Yes, take care of it,” he said to Kuro, with a dismissive wave.
    He walked out to the club entrance and signaled to his bodyguard, who was waiting inside. The man went out and checked the street, then returned and escorted Yamaoto to the Mercedes, waiting with its back door open just in front of the entrance.
    On the ride home, Yamaoto thought about what he was going to do next. One thing he knew for sure. Whoever was behind what happened in Wajima wasn’t going to go quickly, like Kito and Sanada. No. This one would suffer before he died.

25
    W E MET KANEZAKI that night at a coffeehouse in Roppongi. We watched from the van to make sure he was alone, then followed him in. Dox carried the duffel bag with the gear Kanezaki had lent us.
    Kanezaki had his back to the wall and saw us when we came in. If he was surprised to see us together, he didn’t show it. Good for him.
    We sat down. Kanezaki smiled and said, “Yeah, I had a feeling.”
    Dox grinned. “How’ve you been, Tom?”
    “Not bad. You?”
    “Ah, you know. Staying busy. Keeping the world safe for democracy, that kind of thing.”
    “I’m afraid to ask what that’s been entailing.”
    “Hell, you know most of it.”
    “And what I don’t know isn’t going to hurt me, is that right?”
    “Look,” I said, “we just wanted to return your toys. Thanks for lending them to us.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”
    I looked at Dox, then back to Kanezaki. “Yeah. That’s it.”
    Dox slid the duffel over to Kanezaki’s chair.
    We were all quiet for a moment. I knew Kanezaki had been hoping for information, his life’s blood, and that he would be frustrated at not getting it. I waited for his next move.
    “How do you like Japan?” Kanezaki asked, with a nod at Dox.
    “It’s all right. I like the ladies a lot. I keep asking my friend here to take me to see some geishas, but he won’t do it. You know where I could find some?”
    I thought Dox might be laying on the country bumpkin routine just a bit thick, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Probably despairing of getting anything via a more circuitous route, Kanezaki said, “I hear they have geishas in the countryside. On the Sea of Japan.”
    “Sea of Japan?” Dox asked. “Sounds far just for a little entertainment.”
    Kanezaki looked at Dox, then at me. “All right. Are you guys going to tell me what the hell you pulled in Wajima?”
    I looked at Dox. “Do you know anything about Wajima?”
    Dox knitted his brow. “Wajima, Wajima…you know, it rings a bell, now that you mention it. Yeah, I might know something.