Diamond Solitaire

A volley of Japanese came from Yamagata, and the interpreter pushed herself between Diamond and the henchman. 'Mr. Diamond, I implore you! Mr. Yamagata has not finished speaking. You cannot leave yet.'

'There's nothing else to say,' Diamond told her. 'The only reason we came was to find out who Naomi is. He doesn't know. He hasn't the faintest idea.'

'He wishes to help.'

'By questioning her in Japanese? The Embassy people tried. She doesn't respond. Now will you do me a favor and ask this buffoon to let us pass?'

'You should not turn your back on Mr. Yamagata.'

She spoke this dictum like a universal truth. Probably it was well known and wisely heeded among the wrestling fraternity. Diamond heeded it and looked over his shoulder.

Thankfully, Yamagata hadn't moved from the bench. He was beckoning to Diamond to return to the chair.

Maybe, after all, Diamond rationalized, the guy has something constructive to suggest. I won't gain anything from an angry exit. I shouldn't let the frustration get to me. If I'd been questioning a witness in the nick, any old witness, I'd have heard him out in hope of eliciting something useful, wouldn't I?

'Okay,' he said, resting his hand on Naomi's shoulder. 'Two minutes.'

They sat down again.

'Mr. Yamagata would like to hear from your own lips the story of this little girl.'

'I thought he had something to tell me.'

'Please, Mr. Diamond.'

'As you wish.' Striving to be tolerant, he picked his way through the few known facts, starting with the bomb scare in Harrods and ending with Naomi's drawings, which she was willing to hand over for Yamagata's inspection.

The wrestler methodically turned the pages of the drawing pad, studying the diamond shapes and coming finally to the lattice window.

'That's my own work,' Diamond said, thinking how ridiculous he sounded, like some amateur artist looking for compliments. 'This drawing above is Naomi's. I wondered at one stage if she was writing in Japanese characters, but I was told not.'

When this was explained to Yamagata, he shook his head. He seemed as mystified about the significance of the drawings as everyone else. He closed the pad and handed it back to Naomi, graciously, with both hands, as if it were some precious item in the sumo ritual. He said something in Japanese to her, but she made no response. He then turned to Diamond and actually managed some halting words of English.

'Yamagata love little girl.'

Diamond had dreaded something like this. 'No. That's out. Definitely not possible,' he said, reinforcing it with a sweeping motion with his hand.

Yamagata frowned.

'I didn't bring her here to give her away,' Diamond tried to explain. 'She doesn't belong to me, anyway. I'm taking her back to the school tonight, and that's how it is.' He turned to the interpreter. 'For God's sake tell him what I'm trying to say.'

There was a consultation in Japanese. The woman then told Diamond with another bow, 'Pardon me for mentioning this, but I think you misunderstood Mr. Yamagata. He was beginning to tell you that he had a young daughter about Naomi's age. He loved her deeply, but she died of meningitis last year.'

Yamagata's eyes moistened noticeably while this was explained.

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Diamond said in sincerity. 'A child's death is the worst kind of grief to bear. But please get him to understand that Naomi belongs to someone else.'

'He understands that.'

Yamagata spoke again in Japanese, flattening his palm to his chest to reinforce his message.

'He says he wants to help this little girl.'

'Naomi? He wants to help Naomi?'

Yamagata was nodding.

'That's kind,' said Diamond. 'I appreciate the offer, but what could you do? Do you understand me? What could you do to help?'

She put this into Japanese and got a quick answer. 'He says you tell him.'

This exercised Diamond for some time. He didn't like to appear ungrateful. Finally, he answered, 'I suppose you could do what I've been trying to do-drum up some publicity.'

When this was conveyed, Yamagata curled his lip in a clear signal of distaste. He spoke again. The interpreter told Diamond, 'Mr. Yamagata has heard your story and he trusts you. You have been a police detective, so you are well qualified to find out the truth about the child. Mr. Yamagata is a famous wrestler, not a detective. He is a rich man. He will pay all expenses. When you travel, fly to other places, stay in hotels, he will pay.'

A sponsor.

'I wasn't planning on flying anywhere.'

'Mr. Yamagata thinks it will be necessary.'

Diamond shook his head. 'I doubt it.'

Another consultation, then she said, 'Mr. Yamagata wishes to examine the drawing book again.'

'Again?' It was back on Naomi's lap. She allowed Diamond to take it from her and hand it across.

The wrestler turned the pages until he came to the drawing of the lattice window that Diamond himself had started. He traced a finger around the shapes Naomi had drawn and said, 'Airplane.' To reinforce the message he rested the drawing pad on his thighs and spread his arms wide.

'What?' By no stretch of imagination could the drawing represent an aircraft of any description.

Yamagata called his interpreter closer and spoke earnestly to her. She turned to Diamond. 'He says you should look closely at this drawing.'

On cue, Yamagata turned the drawing book in his hands and held it for Diamond to inspect.

'He believes this may be the child's view of inside an airplane.'

'Well, I wouldn't describe myself as a jet-setter, but I've flown a few times and not one of the planes had lattice windows.'

'Please study the drawings with Mr. Yamagata.'

Yamagata held it higher. As Yamagata spoke and traced the shapes with his fingers, the woman interpreted. 'This grid shape that you have assumed to represent a window may be something else.'

'I drew it myself.'

'You drew it from the patterns the child was making. Mr. Yamagata believes it may represent the document storage pocket that is fixed to the back of each seat.'

Diamond knew what was meant. 'That string thing that everything is stuffed into-the safety instructions and the airline magazine and so on? That's a thought. She would be on a level with it if she sat in a plane. And mis other shape could be the flap that you rest your tray on. I believe he's right.' He snapped his fingers. 'That's brilliant. Bloody brilliant. She's letting us know that she was in an aircraft.'

'Or an Intercity train.'

An uneasy pause ensued.

'Did he say that?'

'I did,' said the woman. 'I live in England. Many train seats have these flaps. The airplanes I have traveled in generally have fabric pockets.'

She was right.

'Hang on a minute,' Diamond said. 'May I have the pad back?' He gestured with his fingers.

Yamagata handed it to him.

He turned to a fresh page, took a pen from his pocket and made two rapid drawings, very basic in shape, of an aircraft and a train. 'Now, let's see.' He held them up for Naomi's inspection and covered the train with his hand. 'This one?'

She made no reaction.

'Or this?' He revealed the train.

After a worrying delay, the child put out her hand and touched the drawing of the train.