'A geisha?' the commissaris asked, smiling eagerly.
'No. Geishas aren't prostitutes. They dance and sing and excel in intelligent conversation. A geisha may have lovers, but she chooses them herself. No, mine was a whore, I am afraid. Not that I have anything against whores; on the contrary. Do you?'
'Not at all,' the commissaris said quickly. 'No, not at all. And they are very useful in police work. I don't think we would ever get anywhere without them. You mentioned the year 1635. What happened in 1635?'
The ambassador sprinkled mint sauce on a lamb chop.
'1635,' he repeated. 'The island if Deshima was given to the Dutch. Four hundred feet long, two hundred and forty feet wide, connected to the city of Nagasaki by a little bridge. An island the size of a ship. But it was ours and we were the only Western nation allowed to trade with Japan in those days. The Japanese figured that we weren't going to convert them to anything, but were only there for the money. And so we were; we are simple people after all, always ready to make a silver dollar. The island had a chief and the chief had to go to Edo, or Tokyo as it is called now, once a year, to pay his respects. A trip of several hundreds of miles, and he was carried to the capital in a palanquin, in style. We had some Africans on our island and they did the carrying and the chief would have Javanese servants marching ahead and behind. A white man surrounded by black and brown men. What a sight that must have been. Most Japanese had never seen a foreigner and here they were in three colors, like some fancy ice cream.'
The commissaris closed his eyes and tried to imagine the scene.
The ambassador smiled. 'Can you see it?'
'Yes,' the commissaris said, and opened his eyes again.
'And they were good to us, you know. They allowed us to make handsome profits and they kept us when Holland was conquered by France and no supplies came out for quite a few years. All that time Deshima was the only place on earth to fly the Dutch flag.'
'Yes, yes,' the commissaris said. 'So they did us a favor and you want to repay it. Aren't we repaying it? We are still trading with the Japanese, aren't we? Amsterdam is full of Japanese. All their main commercial companies seem to have offices here and we welcome their tourists. Even their gangsters seem to be here, the yakusa. I hear they are dangerous. We aren't used to dangerous gangsters. I hope that my men can adjust to the situation. I would hate to see gun battles; they wouldn't do anybody any good.'
'Have another chop,' the ambassador said, and pushed a silver dish across the table. 'Delicious. I know the cook here, he is a dedicated man. No, you won't have any gun battles. I don't understand this killing either; maybe somebody slipped up. If the yakusa kill they make it look like an accident or a suicide and they are very careful that nobody loses face. A man who loses face will usually try to revenge himself and revenge will lead to fresh revenge and there will never be an end to it. The yakusa want to live in peace and luxury.'
'They may be selling heroin here, and it may be going from here to the American army in Germany,' the commissaris said carefully, 'if our information is correct, that is. The Americans are rather sensitive about the drug trade. It rots their army. Our own army is too busy growing its hair and going on leave to bother much with heavy drugs. Football and beer seem to be the main diversions. But the American soldiers have developed a craving for opium derivatives.'
'Sure,' the ambassador said, and filled his plate again. 'It may lead to a Communist victory and we'll be marching past the queen's palace waving red flags and singing. But even under communism there are possibilities. I have met many clever men in Russia who have lovely villas in the country. Perhaps it is a return to the old days when only the stupid and silly worked and gentlemen lived gentle lives. Caviar on toast, a little glass of vodka and a Cuban musician playing his guitar in the corner. The Russians own a lot of coast in the Far East, and islands, lovely islands. One might get to travel.'
'One might find oneself in a lunatic asylum being beaten up by large men because a Communist judge has found fault with one's ideas,' the commissaris said, and pushed his plate away. The lamb chops were indeed delicious, but he was looking forward to the iced cake and the coffee and French brandy.
'True,' the ambassador agreed reluctantly. 'They do have rather a lot of lunatic asylums and camps and so on. Still, in these one might sit back and think of escape. Escape is a great game. However, heroin, you said. Yes, it would be nice to stop that traffic, and that's why we are here. Part of the reason anyway. You see, as an ambassador I sometimes meet the leading men in Japan and I know they are concerned about what goes on in Holland. They deliberately choose Amsterdam as a center for all Japanese activities in Western Europe, perhaps because we have a quiet country here, perhaps because Amsterdam is a good city, perhaps because of its fairly central location, or because of our currency which has been reasonably stable. It may also be a continuation of Deshima. They have always traded through and with us.'
'They also made war on us,' the commissaris said, wiping his thin lips with a damask napkin and studying an arrangement of oranges and bananas on a side table. 'They destroyed our Far East fleet in a matter of hours, captured our army and killed most of our officers in workcamps, and kept our women and children behind barbed wire for nearly five years.'
'They have forgotten. Most Japanese never even knew we were in the war too. They know about America and England. The fact is that they are involved with us now. But there is also the drug traffic that interferes with their reputation here, and there is the matter of stolen art. The Japanese are very proud of their art. Most Chinese antique art has disappeared or become unobtainable because of the revolution, but the Japanese have a good supply, both Chinese which they imported many years ago and original which has been created since then by their own great painters and sculptors and calligraphers and potters and so on. Most art is kept in temples, in some of the great complexes of Buddhist buildings where monks are being trained by masters. It's safe in those buildings; the monks and priests wouldn't dream of selling it and the people know about the treasures and come to see the art on certain days when the buildings are open to the public. But there are tens of thousands of temples in Japan and there is a shortage of monks and priests. Some temples are being taken care of by fake priests, men without training who have landed the job through some influence or other. Some caretakers are paid by the state and can be easily corrupted. And there will be degenerate priests, of course, men the yakusa can prey on. The yakusa are clever psychologists and they are powerful. The fact is that they managed to get hold of absolute treasures that will command a fortune at the Amsterdam auctions.
'It has been suggested to me that I might use my influence to interfere with and, it is hoped, terminate the Amsterdam channel. It has also been suggested that I collect funds to restore the island of Deshima, which has fallen into some disrepair. But my efforts have met with failure so far. Our government has no funds to repair buildings on an island. So now the Portuguese are paying for some of the restoration, ridiculous really. The Portuguese have also been on Deshima, but that was before our time and they were told to leave when they started trying to convert the Japanese to Christianity. We should pay, we, the Dutch, but we are too damned stingy. The Japanese don't like that; they are capable of great gestures themselves and expect it of others. But we have another chance now to save face.'
The iced cake had arrived and the commissaris, glaring at his plate, grabbed his spoon. He was planning to cut the cake into two equal pieces with one cut. The conversation was annoying him, although he had already admitted to himself that he liked the ambassador. He had always had a low opinion of diplomats and had expected a chinless drunk who would ramble aimlessly for hours, but the large figure looming opposite him seemed in perfect control of himself, and although his flow of words was steady there was clearly a purpose behind the flow.
'Yes,' the commissaris said briskly. 'Quite, quite. Well, we will do our best. My men are deep into the case already and the drugs detectives are alerted and have undoubtedly started their investigations today. The killers of Mr. Nagai may have left the country by now, but it should be possible to arrest them later. We have their names and we even have a fairly good photograph of the pair strolling down a street in Amsterdam. I am reasonably sure we can collect enough evidence to bring them to court, and if the Japanese don't want to return them to us, should they have managed to escape from here, they can be tried in Japan somewhere. I believe they are from Kobe. Tomorrow I will try to visit the Japanese embassy and report on this case. If they are as interested as you indicate, they can work on the suspects and collect more names; perhaps even the top men can be arrested. The yakusa leader lives in a castle close to Kobe, I am told. And meanwhile we will continue our work here. The restaurant where Miss Andrews worked is already under observation, and one of my best men should be asking questions to the manager this evening. We'll do our job and if the communication with our colleagues in Kobe is good enough they can do theirs. That was the object of my call to you earlier today.'
The ambassador pumped his cheeks and swallowed the last of his cake. He called for cigars.
