'I've waited a long time to see my son,' he said. 'Please, help me go to him now.'
I squeezed his hand harder and shoved down the plunger.
He was looking at me, and then all at once he was looking somewhere beyond me, someplace I couldn't see. Maybe at someone.
The pressure from his hand diminished, and then was gone.
I withdrew the syringe, put it back in the bag, and unkinked the IV line. I closed his eyes and sat with him, holding his hand, feeling empty and miserable and alone.
After a few minutes, I leaned forward and kissed his forehead. 'Be with your son,' I said.
I took a deep breath, switched the monitor back to his chest, and stood.
The nurse came rushing in a moment later. 'Something's wrong,' I said. 'I don't think he's breathing.'
She raced around the bed so quickly and started checking on him so intently that she didn't even notice when I walked quietly away.
54
I went to a bar I liked, D-Heartman, on one of the back-streets in Ginza. Heartman is an old but elegant place, all mahogany paneling and low light and bartenders in formal pleated shirts and black bow ties. They take their cocktails seriously and have an excellent selection of single malts, and it was just what I needed at the moment.
I called Dox when I got there and told him where he could find me, if he wanted to.
'How did it go in New York?' he asked.
'It went fine. They're all dead.'
Something in my tone must have told him not to inquire further for now. He said, 'You going to call Delilah? She's still here.'
'I don't want to see her. If you want to come, come alone.'
I took the elevator up to the sixth floor and walked inside. The two bartenders bowed when I came in and welcomed me with a low '
I ordered a sixteen-year-old Lagavulin, straight. I sipped and watched the quiet street below. I focused on the taste, the smell, the feeling in my throat. I tried not to think.
Dox showed up forty-five minutes later. I had just ordered my fourth Lagavulin. My head felt mercifully fuzzy.
He sat down across from me. 'Should I order what you're having, or is it that medicine-tasting stuff?'
'Oh, it's medicine,' I said.
He turned to the waiter. 'I'll just have a double Stoli on ice. Ah, make that a triple. I think I've got some catching up to do.'
I translated, then said, 'I didn't think you'd still be around.'
'Where'd you expect me to go?'
I shrugged. 'I don't know. Where you live. Wherever that is.'
'As it happens, I'm transitioning to a place in Bali I know. I like it there. Our little score at Wajima ought to speed things up for me, too. But I thought I'd spend some time in Roppongi first. Plus I was hoping you'd be back and we'd get to see each other.'
The waiter brought our drinks and moved off.
'Cheers,' Dox said.
We touched glasses. Dox leveled off about two-thirds of his vodka and let out a long, contented sigh. He leaned back in his chair and said, 'You going to tell me what happened in New York?'
I told him all of it. I felt detached as I recounted things, as though I was listening to someone else talking. Must have been the booze.
When I was done, he said, 'Goddamn, man. I'm sorry to hear that. Truly.'
I nodded and drained my glass. Dox did the same and signaled the waiter for two more.
'But you know,' he went on, 'they're safe now. And with Yamaoto dead, so are you.'
'Yeah,' I said. 'They're safe.'
'What I mean is, give it time. You're that boy's father, and nothing can ever change that. Eventually, Midori's going to come to her senses. She's freaked out now, of course she is, but that's not going to last forever. Blood is a powerful thing, partner.'
I laughed without mirth. 'That's funny, she said the same thing.'
The waiter brought us the drinks. He collected our empty glasses and moved on.
Dox took a swallow and said, 'I know what's going on with you and Delilah, man.'
