But for the moment his thoughts included himself, his company, and all his family. When he was a young man, sixteen hours represented a normal day spent advancing the family wealth. Now he did a better job, and it consumed six hours on a busy day. There were days when he took only a single call. So astute was his handpicked management that the Asaka business conglomerate could be guided down the right path with tiny consistent taps from a small stick. If administered precisely, these taps moved the corporate giant to ever greater success. Yoshinari was a master, his tapping so subtle that it often went undetected to all but the most discerning ear.
As in all affairs in every culture, error was possible. In the Asaka businesses, departures from the path crept in most easily when the master tapper could not see where to apply the stick. And there was now a blurry fog over the business activities of the Amada subsidiary and Kenji Yamada, its chief executive, his son-in-law. It was a matter of possessing accurate information-a commodity in short supply at Amada. So he had sent a liaison, one Oki Satoru, whom he needed to call now.
A voice answered with a groggy-sounding greeting.
"I hope I did not awaken you."
"I fell asleep watching the TV. Sign of getting older."
"Ah, yes," Yoshinari said. "Are you making any progress?"
"I'm afraid Kenji is not happy to see me. I can learn only what Kenji wants me to learn, which is nothing. I am frankly worried that he tries too hard to keep secrets, especially about the forest compound. One wonders what he is worried about. He claims that if word of their Taxol research gets out, the woods will be full of hunters for the yew trees."
''What does that have to do with you and your need to know?"
"It is an excuse without a reason. I believe he has some other project in progress."
"And why do you think that?"
"He has hired chemical engineers at the research center."
"Is there a reason he doesn't share this with us?"
"I don't know. I'm trying to figure it out. But there is a matter I should speak with you about.''
"Yes." Yoshinari did not like Satoru's strained tone. He wondered what Kenji had done that even the ambitious Satoru didn't approve of.
"Your daughter has suspected Kenji of seeing other women. She actually told me this, sir. And I took action, sir. Over here the state senators have a knife at the throats of the timber producers. I thought a political connection could advance the interests of the Asaka family. So I promised a well-placed woman money to get next to Kenji. Like a geisha."
Asaka forced himself to show restraint. Like a geisha, indeed. "Go on."
''It didn't work out well. The woman communicated with Micha on the phone, made small talk. Said how much she appreciated Kenji giving her a ride home. That part, of course, was good. But after the call the woman was found dead in a photographer's van, apparently sexually assaulted by the photographer. I had hired the photographer. And he has disappeared. The police think he's running from the law."
"Tell me why you hired this woman?"
"It's a long story. As I said, her husband is a state senator with prospects. In the long run he could give us political favors. It's common in America like everywhere else. Especially California."
"It is against the law."
"The woman could pry information out of your son-in-law. That's not against the law. And Micha would have the answer to her question. If she knew he was tempted, she could confine his ways."
"You thought all this up by yourself?"
"I did."
"And why did you hire the photographer?"
"For evidence."
"You neglected to mention this scheme to me."
"I didn't want to burden you with it."
"Who do you think killed the woman?"
"I don't know. Perhaps the photographer. Perhaps Kenji."
''I want you to cease all this. I sent you to gather information, not to trap my son-in-law. He is capable enough of serious errors without you creating them for him."
"I understand."
''I want a full report of everything to do with this woman and this photographer. Put it in a computer file with a twenty-digit password. E-mail the encrypted file. Courier the password on a single piece of paper directly to me and show it to no one. I will show the report only to our attorneys. If I didn't need someone over there on an immediate basis, I would recall you. Do you understand?"
"Yes." It was the reply of a beaten man.
Yoshinari made few errors, but sending Satoru had been one of them. He instantly saw Satoru's foolish game-a transparent attempt to have Kenji removed so that he could be advanced. But Yoshinari also knew that his daughter might not disapprove of a plan designed to test her husband's fidelity.
As for Kenji's secret project, perhaps Kenji saw honor in surprise and in solitary accomplishment. It was the American way, not the Japanese way. For the Japanese, making many work as one was the highest honor, and the honor went to all.
As he wondered how hard he should search for Kenji's tapping spot, Yoshinari realized he had already made a decision. He knew people from all walks of life. He knew political leaders, he knew business leaders, and he had access to those who served them. But even with his great wealth, it was favors owed him by the emperor's family that would get him what his money could not buy. The emperor had access to the most trusted men of the shadows. These men could blend into a crowd, slip into a bank vault, disappear in the night, kill with a single blow. They were as wise as serpents and much more dangerous. They fought only to protect those who hired them or to save an innocent life.
But when they fought, they fought to win and they fought well.
Yoshinari not only needed such a man, but he required one. One who was schooled in the ways of the Americans and who spoke English.
Using all the political capital he had accumulated in a lifetime of fortune-making, he had his man within forty-eight hours. A day after that, the man Shohei was off to the United States. Although ' 'shohei'' meant' 'giant,'' his height was normal, his body highly conditioned and wiry. Someone needed to determine what mischief Kenji might yet have in mind.
9
Dan Young's house was a large, comfortable rambler surrounded on the back and sides by towering redwoods that made it seem miniature in comparison. Located on a large piece of property at the end of a wooded road, the four-bedroom dwelling appeared secluded from neighboring homes.
As they made their way up the front walk, Maria studied the illuminated shrubbery. Weeds had sprung up among the rock roses and the rhododendrons. One of the azaleas was dead and another appeared on its last legs. There was a splendid dogwood in the middle of the front yard. It had probably been Tess who took care of the gardening, she surmised.
The back door opened into the family room and the kitchen. They walked in and Dan tossed his hat like a Frisbee. It sailed about five feet onto a prong of a large coatrack.
She glanced at him. "Impressive."
Dan nodded at a large dark-haired woman. "I discovered her," Dan said with his arms flung wide in Pepacita's direction. "The all-purpose live-in mother."
The big woman turned from whatever she was cooking. ''I get more buenos than most wives.'' Her lively dark brown eyes appraised Maria with obvious curiosity.
Maria smiled and shook Pepacita's hand.
''You and Dan look like you fell on hard times?'' Pepacita asked.