When Hisayuki was about to give up, Hideki answered gruffly in English, suggesting he’d been asleep. He quickly changed his tone, his attitude, and his language when he recognized the voice of his
“What has happened since we spoke last?” Hisayuki demanded, speaking quietly in Japanese. He’d learned during the flight that the Caucasian man sitting next to him spoke only English.
“Some things good, some things bad,” Hideki said.
“Better to tell me the bad first,” Hisayuki said nervously.
“My two most dependable men have disappeared since yesterday afternoon. You met them on your last visit: Susumu Nomura and Yoshiaki Eto.”
“As I recall, they were supposed to go on the raid of iPS USA last night.”
“That’s correct, but they never appeared at the meeting place to hook up with Barbera’s men. Barbera’s men reportedly waited around an hour or so for them to show up, but they never did. When I tried to call both of them last night and earlier this morning, all I got was voicemail. I’m worried they are not going to reappear.”
“What about the break-in?”
“It never happened, which is understandable. Barbera-san and his men were helping us, not vice versa.”
Hisayuki paused and tried to think. This was very bad news indeed. Nervously, the only thing that came to mind was that the Yamaguchi-gumi had killed Hideki’s men as revenge for Satoshi’s murder. He asked Hideki if he thought likewise.
“I’m afraid I do,” Hideki said regretfully. He then related what Louie Barbera had told him Susumu and Yoshiaki had said to Louie’s men—namely, that they were afraid of the Yamaguchi-gumi because of a threat they’d gotten from them about killing Satoshi.
“Was this before or after the hit?” Hisayuki asked.
“It had to be before,” Hideki said.
“That does not make sense to me,” Hisayuki said, trying to understand. “From the Yamaguchi standpoint, there is little reason they would suspect we knew anything about Satoshi, especially his coming to America. And we wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for the government telling us. I truly do not understand what’s going on, unless the government is using this situation to sow discord between us Yakuza and to excite a turf war.” Hisayuki thought about the government possibly being involved in such a duplicitous scenario but quickly dismissed it. The issue about the Kyoto patents was too important to be mixed up with any secondary goals.
At that moment the plane arrived at the gate.
“We are going to be getting off here in a minute,” Hisayuki said. “You’ve given me the bad news, but now give me the good.”
“So far there has been no mention in any of the local or national media concerning Satoshi’s or his family’s deaths.”
“None?” Hisayuki questioned.
“None.”
“But if that is the case, how would the Yamaguchi-gumi know of Satoshi’s death and know that Susumu and Yoshiaki had done it or were about to do it?”
“I have no idea.”
Hisayuki again questioned silently if the government, for some unknown reason, might have informed the Yamaguchi-gumi that the hit was going to take place, but he again dismissed the idea. It did not make sense. The government wanted Satoshi murdered, and they also wanted the lab books. “I am confused,” Hisayuki admitted. “I have the feeling there is something else involved in all this, but I fail to understand what it is.”
“Perhaps Susumu and Yoshiaki will suddenly appear,” Hideki said optimistically, “and have some reasonable explanation of their whereabouts over the past twelve hours.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice.”
“Although there’s been nothing in the media about Satoshi, there’s a chance that may change.”
“And why would that be?” Hisayuki questioned.
“When Barbera-san called me last night to let me know Susumu and Yoshiaki had failed to show up, he informed me about a problem.”
“I’m listening,” Hisayuki said.
At that moment Chong Yong, Japanese by birth but Korean by ancestry, and Riki Watanabe appeared at Hideki’s row and began retrieving Hisayuki’s hand luggage from the overhead bin. Most of the rest of the first-class passengers were already disembarking.
“I’m going to have to deplane in a moment,” Hisayuki said to Hideki. “We can meet at the Four Seasons hotel on Fifty-seventh Street in an hour or so. Be there!”
“Certainly. But let me finish so you’ll know what is happening. Barbera-san told me he has a contact at the city morgue who confirmed Satoshi’s death was considered to be natural but that it is being investigated by a woman doctor who is apparently suspicious for some reason that it is not natural. What’s scary is that she has a reputation for being correct and, in Barbera-san’s words, solving difficult cases.”
“That’s not good,” Hisayuki mumbled.
“I agreed, and so does Barbera-san. Last night he said that he’s gotten a warning to her to drop her investigation.”
“Has she done so?”
“I don’t know yet. Barbera-san said he was going to check this morning.”
One of the cabin attendants approached. “Mr. Ishii. We are here in New York.” Behind her came a crew of janitorial personnel with cleaning equipment.
Hisayuki stood but kept his phone against his ear. At the same time he nodded to Chong and Riki, who had his hand luggage, to follow him, and he headed for the door.
“Call Barbera-san and request a meeting this morning!” Hisayuki said. “Specifically, ask him if this woman doctor has heeded his warning, and if not, tell him that we would be interested in learning everything there is to know about her.”
“I’ll call him right away,” Hideki said. “Will you be willing to drive out to Queens to meet him?”
“Only if he insists,” Hisayuki said. “Maybe you could remind him that I’ve just flown in all the way from Tokyo. Perhaps he’ll have mercy. But if he complains, tell him I’d be happy to accept his hospitality.”
“I think he’ll be willing to come into the city,” Hideki suggested. “I think he likes it. Most all of our meetings are in Manhattan.”
19
MARCH 26, 2010
FRIDAY, 9:30 a.m.
Hello, Miss Bourse,” Ben said brightly.
“Good morning, sir!” Clair said, pulling her eyes away from a novel she was surreptitiously reading behind her monitor. No one had come in during the previous half-hour, and she essentially had nothing to do.
“Is Carl in yet?” Ben asked as he walked by the receptionist, hardly slowing his rapid gait.
“Yes, he is!” Clair called after the CEO.
Poking his head into Carl’s open office, Ben said, “Can I see you?” Without waiting for an answer, Ben continued down to his own office. He hung up his coat in his closet before sitting behind his desk. The late-March morning sunlight blazed into the room through the open door into Jacqueline’s office that faced east. The back of his black leather desk chair was hot from its power. Ben called out hello to Jacqueline, whose desk was out of view, and she returned his greeting.
By the time Ben moved the latest batch of journals to the side and cleaned the center of his desk, Carl entered and took his usual seat front and center. With sun streaming though the open door into Jacqueline’s office,
