talk it through, but that was impossible if no one could see the fucking thing.
Katsuda took the point and gave a clipped instruction, and a directional light shone on a table. Katsuda himself, as always, remained in the darkness.
Schwanberg had known Katsuda too long to spend any time on the social niceties. In his opinion, the yakuza leader, however powerful in his own milieu, was bought and paid for way back and could be treated accordingly. There was always another hotshot in a hurry. If push came to shove, Katsuda was replaceable.
For his part, Katsuda despised his backer for his crudeness and lack of manners and hated him for his arrogance. But he endured him because it had been, in the past, a mutually beneficial relationship.
Recently, he was beginning to have doubts. The Hodama killings were supposed to have had a domino effect which would have swept away the Namakas and instituted Katsuda as the new kuromaku. But it had not happened, and despite losing their chairman, Kei Namaka, the Namaka empire, though perhaps somewhat bloodied, looked set to endure. Which was profoundly disturbing and did not reflect well on Schwanberg's judgment and influence. Schwanberg had initiated the Hodama business with the promise that he had enough political muscle to carry it through, but manifestly he had not delivered.
Katsuda wondered if this was just this thoroughly unpleasant man himself or symptomatic of an overall decline in U.S. influence in the Pacific rim. On balance, he rather thought the former. He had substantial investments in the U.S., and over the last few quarters they had been showing healthy signs of life. But a reviving U.S. economy did not solve the Schwanberg problem.
Schwanberg spread the plan on the table and weighed it down with several jade ornaments and a small bronze Buddha. Katsuda shuddered. The value of the ornaments came to several times more than Schwanberg's official salary for a year. The man was an uncouth barbarian.
Schwanberg tapped the plan. 'Just as I figured,' he said, 'that fucking Irishman has played right into our hands.'
The plan looked disconcertingly familiar to Katsuda. Typically, given Schwanberg's consistent thoughtlessness, it was upside down when viewed from the yakuza 's direction, but it still looked very much like the drawing of the Hodama house they had used to plan the hit.
Katsuda was normally courteous, but years of dealing with Schwanberg had taught him that here was a man on whom politeness was wasted. The man had the sensitivity of a bucket of night soil.
'Schwanberg- san,' said Katsuda with some asperity, 'I have not the faintest idea what you are talking about.'
The CIA man was practically chortling. 'Fitzduane, the naive prick, has set up Fumio Namaka for us. And with that gimpy fuck out of the way, we're home and dry as planned.'
'A little detail would not go amiss,' Schwanberg- san,' said Katsuda dryly.
'Fitzduane came to see me,' said Schwanberg. 'He doesn't like me, but he thinks we're allies on this one. He wants Fumio out of the way and he knows we do too, so he has set it up that we – or, to be more precise, you – can finish the job. And the punch line is that the Irishman thinks Fumio was responsible for Adachi's death. Putting the bodies in the aquarium was a neat move. It was near enough the NamakaTower to be too much of a coincidence, in Fitzduane's opinion. It's beautiful.'
Katsuda was feeling profoundly irritated with this uncouth idiot. He was beginning to have a glimmering of understanding, but he really could not see where the plan of Hodama's house came into the equation.
'Schwanberg- san,' he said, 'Since we moved on Hodama- san, I have had a team of people trying to get near the Namakas with absolutely no success. Fortunately, Kei Namaka is now dead, but since that happened, the security surrounding Fumio has tripled. He cannot be got at, and I fail to see how Fitzduane- san 's involvement changes the situation.'
Schwanberg leaned over the table toward the yakuza leader to emphasize his words. Katsuda stood in the shadows perhaps four feet away, but he still imagined he could feel Schwanberg's breath, and certainly the man's spittle as he spoke excitedly was no illusion. Katsuda stepped back in disgust.
'Let me make it simple, Katsuda,' said Schwanberg. 'What do you think Fumio wants most in the world right now? What does he have wet dreams about?'
Katsuda thought for a moment. It was not a difficult question to answer. He had studied Hodama and the Namakas in detail before making his move. 'The Irishman has killed his brother,' he said. 'He wants Fitzduane- san 's head on a plate.' Katsuda smiled slightly. 'After that, he probably wants mine.'
Schwanberg beamed. 'You're business, Katsuda. Fitzduane is personal. You're not even close.'
'So Fitzduane is the bait,' said Katsuda slowly. 'He is the one reason Fumio will show himself.'
Schwanberg nodded. 'Very smart,' he said. 'What has actually happened is that Fitzduane approached Fumio directly and suggested a meet. His spiel is that there must be an end to the feud between them, now that Fitzduane has nearly been killed and lost his best friend and Fumio has lost his brother. And Fumio agreed to the meet, not with any peaceful intent but because he wants Fitzduane carved up so badly he can taste it.'
'And where is this meeting?' said Katsuda.
'That's the elegant part of it,' said Schwanberg. 'Fitzduane came up with the great idea of using Hodama's place. He wanted some location that was private, convenient, and secure, and Hodama's walled garden was his suggestion. The premises are sealed off right now, but Fitzduane has been working with the cops and can gain access. It is just locked up these days. It's no longer guarded.'
Katsuda pondered this for a few seconds. The idea of using Hodama's place was a clever idea. It met all the criteria for a meeting and it also was where the whole business had started. It would be fitting to end it there.
'I would assume that Fumio will take precautions,' said Katsuda, 'so how do you propose we do this, Schwanberg- san?' He will probably involve Yaibo, and they are no idle threat.'
Schwanberg's hand came down flat on the table with a resounding crack, and the two sixth-century jade ornaments fell to the ground and shattered.
Katsuda felt ill. He valued his jade ornaments considerably more than he did most people. He wondered if Schwanberg had any idea how near death he was. If he was not so dependent on the man's backing, he would have Schwanberg killed painfully here and now. Well, even if Katsuda could not implement the thought for the time being, it was a soothing prospect to anticipate.
Schwanberg was so pleased with his cleverness that he had forgotten he had not followed up his triumphant table-pounding with words. He was just staring at Katsuda with a self-satisfied grin on his face.
'Well, Schwanberg- san?' said Katsuda.
'You'll have the edge, Katsuda- san,' said Schwanberg. 'It will be arranged that you and your people will be at the meet instead of Fitzduane, and we will run interference over the whole operation from on high. We'll have the whole thing covered. Night-vision equipment, sniper rifles, heavy firepower. That fuck Fumio won't have a chance.'
Katsuda tried to imagine having a discreet meeting with Namaka while a swarm of armed helicopters clattered overhead, and came to the conclusion that Schwanberg must have been out in the sun in Vietnam too long.
'Helicopters are not entirely discreet,' he said politely.
This time Schwanberg actually jumped up and down with excitement. 'Not helicopters, Katsuda- san, we're going to use the airship. That giant, motherfucking inflated condom is part of the scenery in this city. If floats around and no one pays it the slightest bit of attention. We'll fuck Fumio from a height. It's brilliant.'
Katsuda contemplated Schwanberg with surprise. Clearly there was more to this unpleasant man that he had thought. It really was a clever idea. Inspired, even. Then it dawned on him where the idea had probably come from.
'And the gaijin Fitzduane? Where will he be while I am disposing of Fumio Namaka?'
'Oh, he'll be in the airship,' said Schwanberg. 'As I'll explain, we need him to bait the trap. But when Fumio is terminated, Fitzduane- san will have an accident. Frankly, it will be a pleasure.'
'So no witnesses?' said Katsuda.
Schwanberg had every intention of getting the killing of Fumio by Katsuda on video in close-up. The more strings he had to control his new kuromaku, the better. 'No witnesses,' he replied.
Katsuda smiled to himself in the darkness. Schwanberg's devious mind was not hard to read. He was already thinking of appropriate action. Perhaps the time had come for the renegade to have an accident. Have a crash, indeed, or fall from a height. The man's plan had interesting implications.
