Diamond Solitaire

'About the time you found Naomi in London?'

'Yes.'

Eastland leaned back in his chair. 'Where will you get this information-about Jantac?'

'Yokohama University, I reckon. That's where the work was done. I'll fax them.'

'Before you do that, there's something I should tell you.

We found Leapman's car.'

'Where?'

'JFK.'

'The airport.'

'It was in the parking lot. Been there some time.'

'How do you know?'

'He flew out last night. Japan Airlines, direct to Tokyo. I've spent the afternoon checking passenger lists.'

'Tokyo. Have you told them?'

'Too late. He's already landed and cleared. With Naomi.'

CHAPTER THIRTY

A Japan Airlines Boeing 747 taxied down the runway at the International Airport at Narita, thirty-five miles east of Tokyo. From his window over the wing Peter Diamond could see watchtowers, water cannon and riot policemen in full battledress. He'd read somewhere about the mass riots here in the mid-eighties and the long-running dispute with the local farmers over landing rights. Even so, this degree of security was daunting. It led him to wonder how stringent the immigration arrangements would be. Narita was not the most auspicious airport at which to arrive if your luggage consisted of a carrier bag containing only a pink sweater, cotton trousers, disposable razor, face cloth, toothpaste and toothbrush. His apprehension was borne out when he produced his passport and it was taken away. He was asked to step into an interview room, where he waited under video surveillance for twenty minutes while, presumably, they checked their list of undesirable aliens.

Finally he had an opportunity to tell an immigration officer (who spoke faultless English) that he was a detective engaged in an investigation.

The young man eyed him dubiously. 'Scotland Yard Special Branch?'

'No.' He had the strong impression that anything he said was liable to be checked, so he kept to the truth. 'I've been working with the New York Police. Twenty-sixth Precinct.'

'You are with the NYPD?'

'In cooperation with them. I am a senior officer. My passport, if you examine it-'

'I already have. Is Detective Superintendent your present rank, Mr. Diamond?'

He noted a distinct emphasis on the 'Mr.' 'Former, actually. I have retired from the regular police.'

'Retired? So you are a private agent?'

'Er, yes, in a sense.'

'And are the Japanese police aware of your present mission?'

'No-em, not yet. There wasn't time. They know about the case, but they didn't know I was flying here. Look, this is an emergency. I'm pursuing a suspect who has abducted a child. When I heard he had flown to Tokyo I took the next available flight.'

'The suspect is…?'

'An American by the name of Michael Leapman.'

'And the child?'

'The child is Japanese.'

'Japanese? You say the Japanese police have not been informed yet?'

This was sounding more reprehensible by the minute. He could see himself spending the rest of the day repeating his story to policemen-and not necessarily policemen with as good a command of English as this beacon of the immigration service. 'It's an extremely urgent matter. Obviously, I'll notify the police, but even as we're speaking, the trail is going cold, if you understand.'

'I understand, Mr. Diamond. But I am not certain if you understand the difficulties you would face tracking a suspect in Tokyo. You don't speak Japanese?'

'No.'

'You don't know anybody in Tokyo?'

'Oh, I know someone.'

'Who is that?'

'A sumo wrestler by the name of Yamagata.'

'Yamagata?' The name had a remarkable effect on the immigration officer. He gripped the edge of the table, blinked several times and swayed back. 'You know the Ozeki Yamagata?'

'Yes.'

'You're quite sure of this?'

'I wouldn't have mentioned him if I wasn't.'

'You have actually met him?' It was if they were speaking of the God-Emperor.

This, Diamond thought, is an opportunity. Without trying too obviously to impress, he underlined his links with Yamagata. 'We met when he was in London. He's paying my fare. He hired me, in fact. He's taking a personal interest in the case.'

'You should have mentioned this.'

'I just have.'

'Yamagata-Zeki?' He repeated the name as if having difficulty in believing what Diamond was saying.

'He lives in Tokyo. I'm sure he'll vouch for me. Would you like to check with him?'

'I would.' The man's face lit up. 'I would indeed. Thank you.' This, it emerged, was an inspired suggestion, the bestowal of an honor. The immigration officer reached for a phone book. His face was flushed. The pages shook as he turned them.

He stood up to make the call, rigidly, like a soldier. Without understanding a word, Diamond watched fascinated as the stern face of the immigration officer become coy, then ingratiating and finally elated.

After the conversation ended, the young man continued to hold the phone, gazing at it as if it were a thing of beauty.

'You got through all right?'

'Yes.' The voice was dreamy. 'I have just been speaking to Yamagata-Zeki.' He put down the phone and flopped into his chair.

'Is that all right, then?'

'I can't thank you enough.'

'May I have my passport?'

It was handed across. 'Now I must call a taxi for you. Yamagata-Zeki looks forward to greeting you in the heya where he lives.'

'There isn't time,' Diamond said flatly.

'You can't refuse.'

This was infuriating. How could he make a social call when he was chasing Leapman? But while thinking actively how to get out of the arrangement, he began to see that a detour to Yamagata's heya might actually be necessary. As the immigration officer had pointed out, a complete stranger to Tokyo faced problems. He couldn't begin to go in pursuit without some practical help from the locals, and that would be difficult if most of them spoke no English.

Not long after, still fretting over lost time, he was in a taxi being driven to the heya, which the immigration officer had informed him was one of thirty or more 'stables' for sumo wrestlers in Tokyo, most, like this one, in the district of Ryoguku, east of the Sumida River. His new friend for life ('forever in your debt, Superintendent') had assured him that no fare would be required. Diamond wasn't sure whether it would be settled by the Immigration Department or Mr. Yamagata. He couldn't believe that the taxi driver would make the