"We should never have let them in. Never. Make sure you let me know the minute they are on to something that matters."
"I'll let you know a minute before."
"I called about another issue."
"Oh?"
"I will be deeply moved by the death of our associate Kim Lee at the hands of extremist elements."
There was a long silence, and then an exhale of breath from Groiter. "Are you sure?"
"He's been talking to Satoru about things that could profoundly affect your retirement."
"Corey is crazy, but it'll take some doing to get her to pull this off."
"I didn't say that Schneider actually had to pull the trigger." But something told Kenji that Groiter would protect himself and the best way to do that was to find someone else with an obvious motive. "I'm confident you'll think of something. I think it's time you got another bonus."
There was a steady rhythm like a drumbeat that echoed through his body, deep breaths that sounded like muted snorts, the leather, and the sweat smell. His body floated over the horse, its gallop impeccably regular as he raised the six-foot wooden bow. The target stood to his right at ninety degrees.
The contest took place on a three-foot-wide dirt track about one hundred yards long with three targets equidistant along the run. As the arrow slid from his fingers, he saw the exact spot on the bull's-eye where the arrow would strike. And it did.
The sport was called Yabusame and was conceived by a ninth-century warlord whose family name was Ogasawara. Yoshinari's horse was a big bay girded with the armor of the samurai, as was Yoshinari's own body. Twenty years previous he had been the Yabusame grand national champion of all Japan. As a senior he had held that title in the over-sixty class, five times running. Only a few of the younger men could best him, and only due to their superior physical endurance. They could retain the absolute stillness of mind and body required for perfection over many attempts. Today the crowd bowed and displayed appropriate awe, making him smile inwardly at his vanities.
Finished for the day, he rode back to his stables. As often as possible he held tournaments at his castle, for those were the only contests that he attended. He wanted to sit by the koi-pond bridge and sip his wife's tea. It seemed that he always returned there when troubled about his son-in-law.
Since Kenji regularly excluded Satoru from meetings and activities that would give him the opportunity to report back, it was necessary for Satoru to rely upon subterfuge, a practice most noxious to Yoshinari. And it had evolved into nonsense.
Shohei had made a report more complete than Satoru's on the bizarre seduction plot. According to Shohei, and consistent with the obvious, Satoru's real motive was to depose Kenji, to take over, and to use Catherine Swanson's political influence with her husband to benefit Amada.
Purportedly, the woman had presented Kenji with an opportunity to be unfaithful. There was little doubt in Yoshinari' s mind that if one paved the path to an extraordinary woman's bed with incense and warmed earth, Kenji would oblige his nose the fragrance and his feet the warmth. It was no mystery that Kenji loved his manhood at least as much as his nose and feet.
Shohei was certain that Kenji had taken the bait and most probably killed Catherine Swanson. According to Shohei, Micha knew of Satoru's attempt but believed Kenji had not succumbed to temptation. Meanwhile, Kenji's optimism regarding his secret project never flagged, and in this one thing Satoru believed Kenji was sincere.
Yoshinari found Shohei on his cell phone.
"I want to know more about the Highlands Laboratory," Yoshinari began. "I think you should go in unannounced. Kenji still mustn't know that you exist. As it is, he resents Satoru."
"I will break in?"
"Only to the extent you can do so without detection. I do not know what you are looking for, except to say I want to know about anything that doesn't appear to be Taxol research."
"Of course, I am not a chemist."
"I know. Do the best you can." Yoshinari disconnected.
Kenji kept Satoru from the laboratory at all costs, allowing him to visit the facility only twice. On both those occasions it had seemed evident to Satoru that they were experiencing temporary workforce reductions, as if everyone but a skeleton crew had gone on holiday in honor of his visit. Although they were supposed to be studying Taxol with pharmaceutical chemists, they were hiring molecular industrial chemists. Furthermore, Satoru was convinced that there were areas of the compound that he was never shown.
Yoshinari waited an appropriate number of hours before calling Shohei again.
"How are you progressing? I have great concern."
"I am building my database."
Yoshinari nodded, smiling. Modern spies must use modern ways. "I am most interested in your technique."
"I am downloading the names of all the people involved and their phone numbers. I am also downloading all phone records of every Amada executive, including Groiter and Kenji. As far as those that they call environmental extremists, it is harder. I am downloading car licenses and grouping names of people together that I know keep common company. I am also gathering all available information about the two lawyers."
"I want you to hire two of the best investigators you can find. Discreet men."
"Yes."
"They are to do nothing but assist you in building your database. Hire men with friends. Men who know the police.''
"Yes. They call that being 'connected.' It will be done."
Shohei found the forest intriguing. He had learned some of his art in the Okudake Mountains of Yakushima. There he had learned to become a ghostly whisper in the forest.
By painting himself with ash and pine scent even the animals did not know of his passing. Here the trees were much larger than back home and the undergrowth different. Many of the plants he did not recognize. But the humus scent and the cool quiet were the same.
Quickly he found the fence and avoided the dogs because they neither heard nor smelled him. His nimble body was able to elude everything but the razor wire atop the fence. Cutting the razor wire might set off an alarm.
Tunneling under the fence would not be a problem but for the dogs who might hear the activity. Cutting the chain link with bolt cutters seemed the best option, though it would leave a permanent record of his passing. It took only a couple of minutes. He had cut the first links of the second fence when he heard a low growl. Whirling, he saw two Doberman pinschers coming at him like bullets.
He squared himself toward the dogs, his fingers slipping his tanto from a pocket. He let his mind focus. The dogs' eyes were points of deadly determination. Seeing him calm, ready, they missed a stride measuring him and the distance for their leap. Shohei sensed their uncertainty and let his power grow. He threw the dagger.
He felt the first dog lose its will as the razor-sharp metal buried itself in his chest. He turned and baited the second dog with an outstretched arm. As the dog's body came at him, he dropped to the ground and kicked upward under the animal's throat. There was a loud snap and the dog went down-dead.
Such a nuisance. He was not to be discovered. With some effort he pulled the tanto from the first animal's chest, crawled under the fence, and moved off through the bushes. He had gone about fifty yards when he stopped to listen, to ensure that no one followed. There was something moving in the brush. From the pattern of its movement, he could tell it was a man. Painstakingly he followed. They were moving slowly back toward the compound fence but at a location some distance away.
He followed for six hours. Two of those were spent watching a woman in a tree while she studied the compound. She had found a place of good elevation and a big climbable madrona. It provided a view of a small clearing. When she left, he followed her to a truck that he later learned was registered to a Corey Schneider. That was the word he got from his connected men. In hours they had her address and unlisted phone number. She lived in the mountains.