Yeah, it was stiff. Jack had upped his price since the Dawn Pickering job. His intention was to cut back. One way to do that was to be very choosy about the fix-its he took on. The other was to price himself out of certain markets.
This Naka guy owned a plantation on Maui. He could afford Jack's price, no sweat.
"Didn't your artist friend Moki's 'consort' tell you that?"
"I asked but she did not know."
Not know? That meant she wasn't a former customer. A puzzlement.
"Well, it's not as bad as it sounds. Half up front, and the rest when I deliver the goods."
"And if you do not? What happen to first half?"
"That stays with me."
"But how am I to know you have not simply taken my money and done nothing?"
Instead of answering, Jack took another bite of the burger and chewed at a slow, deliberate pace. Something about this guy bugged him. Maybe because he sensed Naka was giving him only part of the story. Then again, he couldn't expect full disclosure from someone who wanted him to steal back a stolen object.
As for the job itself, it could prove relatively easy if the thief was trying to sell the sword, but damn near impossible if he intended to keep it for himself.
Jack had set the photos on the table. He took another bite and studied the close-up of the ruined blade.
Who'd pay for a piece of junk like that?
Finally he swallowed and said, "It's called trust. You have a reference—granted, it's from a woman neither of us knows, but you trusted the source enough to get in touch with me."
"Yes, but—"
Jack held up a hand. "No buts. You either trust me or you don't. You know my price, so you either come across or you don't. I don't bargain, haggle, dicker. Make up your mind."
Naka sighed. "I do not see that I have much choice."
"Of course you do. You're dealing with maybe the last vestige of the free market, which means you can walk out the door you came in with no hard feelings—at least on my part."
Jack expected some lengthy rumination on Naka's part. Instead he surprised him by giving a curt nod and saying, "Yes, it shall be done. I shall pay you cash."
"Yes, you will. Although we accept Krugerrands as well."
"When can you start looking?"
"As soon as I have the money."
Jack had learned over the years that certain customers had to believe they were dealing with a no-nonsense, hard-ass mercenary. He sensed Naka-whatever Slater was one of those.
"I shall make call and someone shall deliver it to you within hour. Where—?"
"Right here will do fine."
No sense in burning another meeting place.
"One last thing," Jack added. "How did the break-in occur?"
Naka frowned. "I do not understand."
"Was a door pried open or its lock picked? Was an alarm system bypassed? How did he gain entry?"
"Through bedroom window."
"With you there?"
"No. Out to dinner."
"No alarm?"
"Yes, for rest of house, but my wife like to sleep with open window. Our system bypass those windows."
"No motion detectors?"
"In rest of house, yes, but he turn off alarm system from bedroom. I do not know how."
Jack did. Inside info: a cleaning girl, or maybe even someone at the alarm company.
Good. This gave him an idea of the burglar's skill set, always useful in tracking someone.
Naka rose and reached into his pocket. Jack waved him off.
"On me. I'll be running a tab." He pointed to the photos. "Got anything better than these?"
Naka shook his head. "Sorry. Those are best. My father never felt need of taking picture. He had sword in place of honor where he could see every day. Why take many picture?"
Made sense.
Naka put on his hat, bowed, and hustled out the door. Jack settled into finishing his burger, considering ordering another Hoegaarden and maybe even another burger, and thinking how this was the kind of fix-it Gia liked him to take.
Retrieving a decrepit old sword… really… how risky could that be?
Toru Akechi was sitting with his favorite student, Shiro Kobayashi, the fourth son of a fisherman in the Ishikawa prefecture, in one of the few rooms in the Order's temple that had remained a classroom. Most others had been converted into dormitory-like quarters for the monks, acolytes, and guards. A few of the larger rooms had been renovated for Sightings and for surgery.
Tadasu burst in. Toru sensed restrained excitement in the man as he bowed.
"The mercenary has agreed to search for the katana, sensei."
Toru regarded him through the eyeholes of his mask. Tadasu Fumihiro was forty-two, a former student. He had watched Tadasu grow since his teen years, mentoring him through the levels of the Kakureta Kao as it struggled back from extinction. He had earned the position of temple guard but showed promise of so much more, which was why Toru had selected him for a mission so critical to the future of the Order.
"You must stay close to this. The Order is depending on you to guarantee its future. If this man finds it… you know what must be done."
"I do, sensei. I shall not fail."
"I have faith in you. And good news for you. Shiro has located the final ingredient for the ekisu."
After regaining the sacred scrolls, Toru had sent out the Order's acolytes and any guards who could be spared—and who could show their faces—to scour the city for the ingredients to make the elixir that would create the Kuroikaze—the Black Wind.
Tadasu grinned and bowed to the acolyte half his age. "Most excellent!"
Shiro returned the bow. "I am honored to be of service."
Tadasu's hair was longer than Shiro's, but the two were so similar they could have been father and son.
Tadasu said, "This means that the Order can once again wield the Kuroikaze!"
Toru hoped so. He knew of only one way to be sure.
"Yes. Even as we speak, the ekisu is being prepared in accordance with the instructions in the scrolls. We must test it as soon as possible. For that we will need a shoten. The two of you go, search the city. Find someone sickly, someone with low vitality, and—most important of all—someone who will not be missed."
He followed the pair out of the classroom and returned to his quarters. He locked the door and removed the embroidered red silk mask from the folds of skin the surgeons had created in the four corners of his face. This had been done when he'd entered the Fifth Circle of the Kakureta Kao and took the Vow of the Hidden Face. No one ever again would see his face.
The Fifth Circle… where he had gained the folds and lost his testicles. A small price to pay, hardly a price at all, especially considering how long ago he had sworn off pleasures of the flesh.
As a sensei, he would not be allowed to progress beyond the Fifth Circle for many years to come. He needed all of his senses to be an effective teacher.
He stepped to the open window and let the breeze caress his face. Even though it carried a faint, sour tang of garbage, it felt refreshing. Yes, he'd made the vow, but sometimes he became weary of looking at the world through two eyeholes.
He stared across the flat lowlands and highways to the huge mounds of the Fresh Kills landfill surrounding the Order's temple.
Temple… a term used loosely in this case. Toru had seen photos of the beautiful five-story pagoda in the heart of Tokyo that served as home to the Kakureta Kao until the World War II fire bombings. People high and low had feared and venerated the Order. And then it had been destroyed.