See Charlie Run

anything out of Germany? We need time: you’ve had time: what have you come up with!’

‘All right, all right!’ said Fredericks. ‘I just wanted to know …’ He stopped, smiling. ‘And I would know, wouldn’t I, Charlie? We’ve got a deal, haven’t we?’

Consciously trying to continue the other man’s distraction, Charlie cooked and then wrapped some spring onions in chrysanthemum leaves and said: ‘I hope so …’ He allowed the pause. ‘I was thinking earlier that if we’re not careful, you and I – and those we represent and who invariably over-react and fuck everything up – we’re going to end up with nothing … try the combination, it’s terrific.’

Competing in the game they were playing, Fredericks identified the hakusai and employed his chopsticks as expertly as Charlie and said: ‘This is very good.’ Then, just as expertly, he wrapped the onions in the leaves and said: ‘The meeting’s tonight.’

Charlie gave a head-bowed nod to the waitress who came to skim the detritus off what would later become the soup, welcoming the interruption. He continued the ritual, cooking some fungus, and said: ‘How?’

‘Street designations.’

‘Car pick-up, then?’

‘Could be something else, but I can’t think of it … I forgot to ask if you’d like something to drink?’

Fredericks was employing his own distraction ploy, decided Charlie. ‘Maybe a little sake,’ he accepted. ‘You gave a reason?’

‘I said someone from Britain had arrived.’ Fredericks summoned the waitress and ordered the wine.

‘You haven’t ever met the wife?’ asked Charlie, directly.

‘No.’

‘Did you ask?’

‘No,’ said Fredericks again.

‘Why not?’

Both men waited while the wine and the tiny choko cups were delivered to their table. Then Fredericks said: it hasn’t got that far: I’ve let him make the running.’

Charlie raised his cup to the other man, thinking how differently he would have conducted the negotiations. ‘Haven’t you thought that Kozlov might be fronting for the woman?’ It was a maverick question, thrown out to make ripples.

‘Why should he be?’ demanded the American.

‘No reason,’ said Charlie. ‘Just seeking your thoughts.’ Shit, he thought: the idea had been to get Fredericks reminiscing from that first moment of contact, at the unimportant embassy meeting. Charlie had hoped he could have picked up something. Smoothly – reasonably smoothly at least – as everything was going, Charlie couldn’t lose the nagging feeling that there was a yawning gap that he’d failed to recognize, and that if he did not realize where or what it was he was going to fall ass over apex into a great big hole.

‘How quickly could you move?’ asked the American.

‘Woa!’ said Charlie, avoiding the question. ‘I haven’t met either of them yet; heard what they have to say …’ He drank more sake and said: ‘Being so far ahead, as you are, you must be ready?’

Now it was Fredericks who sidestepped. He said: ‘Kozlov won’t move until he’s seen you; is satisfied about his wife. So we haven’t made any plans.’

The man spoke looking directly at Charlie, who decided the American was as good a liar as he knew himself to be. He wondered if Fredericks had any source at Haneda airport from which he could learn of the arrival of the commando unit: the man would see immediately through the Australian manoeuvres cover story. He said ‘What time?’

‘Nine: the first place, that is.’

The waitress cleaned the water for the last time and poured the stock into bowls for them.

Charlie said: ‘Same meeting arrangements as before?’

‘This is really very good,’ praised Fredericks, sipping the soup. ‘He’s set out six different places: all near enough to tourist hotels so we won’t attract any unnecessary attention, hanging around.’

From the number of meeting places Charlie decided he’d been right in his estimate of extra CIA men. ‘Very cautious,’ he said.

‘I told you before, everything’s professional.’

If only you knew, thought Charlie. He said: ‘Have we far to go?’

‘I chose this place because it was close,’ said the American.

Charlie raised his cup: ‘Here’s to success.’

‘We’re working together on this, OK? No tricks?’

‘No tricks,’ agreed Charlie. At least not until I’ve decided what they’re going to be, he thought. He wondered what Fredericks was planning.

Fredericks drank, belatedly, and said: ‘Here’s to success.’

At the exit Charlie said: ‘No one took my shoes.’

‘Let’s hope it’s our lucky night,’ said the American.

In another taxi, Charlie acknowledged the importance of the first cab: if Kozlov did intend a vehicle pick up, their own car would have been a burden. The drop-off was at the Diamond Hotel, but after paying the fare Fredericks led away from the entrance, towards the park. Charlie orientated himself, realizing how close they were to the British embassy. Would the diplomatic bag have arrived by now?

‘We hadn’t better stay together,’ warned Fredericks.

‘Surely he knows the point of the meeting?’

‘I don’t want to spook him, straight off. I’ll make the contact, then bring him to you.’

Charlie gazed alertly around him. Was that Fredericks’ only concern, unsettling the Russian? Or was there something he hadn’t anticipated. ‘I’ll be close,’ said Charlie, with no alternative.

Fredericks went ahead, stopping about ten yards away at the intersection with the main road. Charlie remained where he was, tensed for anything. He made out the entrance to the Hanzomon subway station and remembered the trail clearing of the first day: how close, he wondered, was the man in the shiny shoes tonight? Ten past, Charlie noted, checking his watch; he hadn’t asked Fredericks what the waiting period was to be, which was an oversight. The American’s movement, at quarter past, answered the unasked question.

‘Marunouchi. The Post Office,’ said Fredericks, coming back to him.

‘You put watchers in place?’

Fredericks’ hesitation was just a few seconds too long. ‘No,’ said the American. ‘I didn’t want to screw anything up.’

Let’s hope you haven’t, thought Charlie. As the cab picked up the Shinjukudori highway Charlie said, testing: ‘What’s after Marunouchi?’

‘Why?’ demanded the American, at once suspicious.

‘Just curious,’ said Charlie. ‘Checking the expertise.’

‘A second-hand book store, near the Surugadai Hotel,’ said Fredericks. ‘District’s called Jimbocho.’

Charlie smiled and said: ‘He knows the business.’

The American frowned across the cab. ‘How come?’

Charlie indicated the darkened Chiyoda-Ku to their left and said: ‘That’s the pivot. We’re going around it to get to Marunouchi and then virtually continuing in the same circle to the hotel. Easy travelling. But more for him than for us. Means he can monitor and keep ahead of us all the time. The circle goes on, after Jimbocho, right?’

‘The Yasukini shrine,’ confirmed Fredericks.

He’d got two further meeting places, Charlie recognized. He said, goading: ‘Be easy to isolate any surveillance.’

Fredericks grunted, not bothering to respond. The separated wait by the Post Office was as fruitless as the first and there was difficulty this time in getting another taxi, so Fredericks was shifting impatiently by the time they set out for the third designated spot.

‘It’s pretty easy to get pissed off,’ complained the American.

‘Prefer this to being trapped, through carelessness,’ said Charlie. ‘I was once, remember?’

The bookshop provided the best cover of all. It was crowded, like Japanese bookshops always are, and