He hit the policeman very hard in the stomach, then gave him a roundhouse to the jaw..
The policeman made an odd sound as he collapsed, and Fitzduane reached across and removed his revolver. He flicked open the cylinder to make sure it was loaded, then turned just in time to shoot the oyabun twice in the face at point-blank range. The man's nose and forehead vanished out through the back of his skull, and he shot backwards off the pavement and onto the road, to vanish five seconds later under the wheels of a tour bus.
The remaining two yakuza stood there frozen, with swords upraised, as Fitzduane pointed the revolver at them. He was just deciding which one to shoot first when a voice spoke behind him in American-accented English.
'Fitzduane- san, I presume? Please drop your weapon.'
Fitzduane kept his gun on the yakuza. A uniformed sergeant with the look of someone who knew his way around came into his peripheral vision, his gun also pointed at the yakuza.
'There are two of your guys up the hill who need attention,' said Fitzduane, 'and I mean NOW! Get an ambulance. I'm going back up to see what I can do.'
Adachi was speechless for a moment. Then he lowered his gun and picked up the telephone. Three minutes later, he found Fitzduane on his knees ministering to Sergeant Oga. The Irishman seemed to know exactly what to do.
15
Tokyo, Japan
June 8
The Deputy Superintendent-General of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police looked down at the open file on his desk and then up at Superintendent Adachi so many times before he spoke that Adachi, who was standing at attention in front of the DSG's desk, started to feel disoriented. He felt he was facing one of those nodding birds.
Between glances, the DSG flipped through the reports and stared at the photographs. In the time Adachi had known the Spider, nothing had caused the DSG to react to any perceptible extent, but the slaughter on Yasukini-dori made a decided impact.
The Spider's eyebrows seemed to have been raised permanently by half an inch, and his voice was up an octave. Occasionally, it squeaked. This reaction gave Adachi a certain inner satisfaction. After all, bringing this Irishman in on the Namaka case had been the Spider's idea, and, fortunately, everyone knew it.
'This is incredible,' the DSG squeaked. 'This man is here only three days and he turns Tokyo into Chicago. In thirty-five years on the force, I have never seen anything like it. Five dead, including a policeman, and one policeman injured. And all of this only yards from the ImperialPalace and the War Memorial. The press are going to eat this up. If this was fifty years earlier, I'd be committing seppuku, and as to you, Adachi- san, I hate to think. You'd probably be enlisted as a kamikaze pilot, if they were feeling generous. You were there, after all, and senior police officers are supposed to stop this kind of behavior.'
He shook his head. 'Incredible, incredible. And not just swords, but guns, too. Guns in my city. What is Tokyo coming to!'
The fruits of economic progress, Adachi felt like saying, but this was not a time for jokes. He also did not point out that the Emperor was not actually living in the ImperialPalace at the moment, since it was being repaired. He remained silent, as was appropriate, and waited for a signal to speak.
In truth, he was nearly as stunned as the DSG, perhaps more so. He had actually been there and seen the gaijin in action. He had not witnessed the sword-fighting, but he had glimpsed Fitzduane as he was checking the young policeman's revolver before turning and shooting the oyabun in the face.
It was his speed and the way he had acted without any hesitation that stuck in Adachi's mind. This was a truly dangerous man; but also decent. He also remembered seeing Fitzduane attend to the injured Sergeant Oga. The sergeant, lucky man, looked like he'd be coming out of the affair with nothing worse than surface lacerations on his scalp and a rather sore head.
The DSG seemed to realize for the first time that his subordinate was still standing at attention. He gestured toward a chair. 'Oh, sit down, Superintendent- san. Thankfully, this is not a half a century ago.'
Adachi sat down.
'To be factual about this,' said the DSG in a more normal voice, 'the core issue here is that the Tokyo MPD failed to protect an invited guest. But for his own initiative, Fitzduane- san would have been cut down only a short distance from his hotel. And to make matters worse, he was forbidden to carry a firearm, even though I knew he was at risk.' He sighed. 'Frankly, I underestimated the forces we are up against.'
Adachi cleared his throat. The Spider now seemed almost human. He had displayed more emotion in the last ten minutes than over the previous decade. It was almost impossible to imagine the DSG as a normal person with a home life and a family.
The DSG looked directly at him. 'You are not in any way to blame for this, Adachi- san,' he said. You behaved entirely appropriately and your report is excellent. The fault is mine, but I would appreciate your input as to what we should do now. Our immediate priority is to make a statement to the press. Then we can consider our next move with this Irishman.
Adachi removed his notebook and consulted it. 'Fitzduane- san has made a number of suggestions,' he said.
The DSG nodded.
'He has said that he is aware that this incident may be embarrassing, but that he personally does not blame the MPD in any way, and indeed regrets – very deeply regrets – the inconvenience caused.'
The DSG looked extremely interested. 'Fitzduane- san suggests,' Adachi continued, 'that the whole business be dismissed in the press release as a clash between rival yakuza gangs which was stopped thanks to the prompt actions of the police. Further, he suggests that the hero of the hour be the young policeman he was forced to knock unconscious. The yakuza oyabun was shot with Policeman Teramura's revolver, so it would seem appropriate. Fitzduane- san also respectfully recommends that Teramura- san be given a medal.'
The DSG exhaled, and in Adachi's opinion, took an unconscionably long time about it. The Spider was a positive genius at buying time in a discussion while also managing to appear entirely in control. Those around him tended to wait with bated breath for the oracle to speak. The Spider had raised hesitation to a high art.
The seconds passed. Adachi was frankly impressed at how much air the little man contained. He must really be fit. When did he exercise? There was not even a rumor of him in the police dojo. Perhaps he jogged in the dead of night around HibiyaPark.
The DSG eventually took a deep breath – to Adachi's relief – and then exploded in laughter. After an appropriate interval, Adachi joined in. The DSG practically rolled off his chair, but finally got control of himself.
'Let's do it,' he said. 'It's a perfect solution. But weren't there witnesses?'
'Most noticed only the initial yakuza attack, said Adachi, 'and then they fled. The involvement of a gaijin was seen only by a couple, and the rain was heavy. I don't think we need to worry. We'll have a quiet word about the public interest.'
'Our gaijin friend,' said the DSG, 'is a very clever man. The Irish must have some Japanese blood in them somewhere. But tell me, Superintendent- san, what does he want?'
Adachi smiled. 'He would like to continue what has been agreed upon, and he respectfully suggests that he be allowed-'
The DSG groaned.
'-to carry a firearm.'
The Village of Asumae North of Tokyo, Japan
June 10
The village was some sixty miles north of Tokyo, so Fitzduane's bodyguards – now increased to four – had not been overly keen on his making the trip.
