Harry grinned. From a furoshiki, he lifted out two glasses and a split of champagne that he’d picked up in the Matsuya food emporium.
“I didn’t just get on the plane. After this morning’s little talk, my friend from Nippon Air will personally tuck me into my seat.” He thumbed off the cork and caught the foam as it rose. Opening champagne in such close quarters was chancy, but for some occasions sake would not do. “I’m going to sit right next to you, Alice. We will wave good-bye to Tokyo together. I may even teach you poker on the way.”
“Harry, you’re the worst man I ever met.”
“Even I blush. Cheers,” Harry said as if laying down a winning hand. “Nippon Air to Hong Kong on Monday the eighth. BOAC out of Hong Kong to catch the Clipper in Manila, then Midway, Hawaii and California, in that order. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
“Sounds like smooth sailing to me.”
Alice shielded her eyes to watch a salesclerk down on the roof demonstrate a yo-yo. The yo-yo spun in place to Walk the Dog and snapped into orbit for Around the World. She asked, “What does Madame Butterfly think of you going?”
“Michiko? I’m telling her tonight. I have to give her a chance to make other arrangements. I’ll set her up financially.”
“Do you think that will make her happy?”
Harry thought that “happy” was not a word that really related to Michiko. “Happy” was fatuous, like a helium balloon. Michiko carried the threat of a larger pop. “I’ll explain things to her. I’ll say it’s time to go. I’ll wear armor plate.”
“That would probably be wise.” As the cable lurched, a thud came from within the furoshiki at Harry’s feet. “Did I speak too soon?”
Harry spread the cloth and lifted the lid of the cigar box so that Alice could see the pistol inside.
“That’s lovely. Harry, you’re aware that it’s illegal to own a handgun?”
“I got stuck with it. It’s an army pistol. A Baby Nambu.”
“Why would a soldier leave his gun with you?”
“It was a setup, he had his own.”
“If it was a setup, he’ll tell the police. Leave the gun with me. I have some degree of immunity, and once I get home, I’ll throw it in with Beechum’s collection. He has elephant guns, African spears, the lot.”
“No, but I’d appreciate it if you took the box.” He tucked the pistol into the back of his belt and tried to settle in his seat.
“Comfortable?” Alice asked.
“Been more.”
“What are you going to do with it? This is not Chicago, people don’t carry guns. You’re not thinking of using it on Ishigami, are you?”
“A foreigner shoot a war hero? That would be an interesting form of suicide.” He spied a soldier and a girl sharing cotton candy. Public displays of affection were frowned on, but exceptions were made for boys who were shipping out. “You know, this rooftop used to be the place for suicides. You should have been here. Lovers lined up to hold hands and jump two at a time. It caused some anxiety about shopping in the neighborhood. You came for a cute chapeau and ended up planted in the sidewalk by a pair of star-crossed lovers. The silver lining is, since the war, suicides are down.”
“Has Michiko ever suggested a double jump?”
“Well, she’s romantic that way.”
“Wasn’t there an American reporter last year who died after he fell from the first story of a police station? The police said he jumped.”
“He probably didn’t have many options.”
“Whereas you only have to hide a gun from police who are already following you.”
“I’ll get rid of it, don’t worry.” A gondola swung by in the opposite direction. Two little girls in red kimonos bowed from the passing car while Alice studied Harry as if from a distance rather than knee-to-knee.
“Harry, we had fun, didn’t we?”
“Lots of fun.” It was true. Alice was fun, and there was no danger with her of being murdered out of jealousy or pique. A man could sink with Alice under the billowing waves of her soft mattress and down-filled quilt with the assurance that he would come up alive. She was brilliant with the Japanese language, loved the way the “flute” found its way to the “precious pearl” and positions like “Cat and Mouse in One Hole.” Her sheets were so scented with Chanel it was like nesting in a rose. The only problem was that Michiko could detect Chanel from a block away. “And we’ll have more fun. Have you told Beechum?”
“Good Lord, no. He thinks I’m going for a lark and be back in a day. My brother owns a coffee plantation in Kenya. The whites there lead a life of stupid dissipation. You and I could go there, and no one would know the difference.”
“Pull a Duke of Windsor? You’d marry a common American?”
“I don’t propose to make an honest man out of you, no one could do that. I am only suggesting that there are people who disapprove of you. People at your own embassy. They could make things uncomfortable for you if you return home.”
“People have always disapproved of me. When people approve of me, you have my permission to shoot me in the head. I am not escaping here to hang out at a water hole in Africa. I want to show you Hollywood, Monterey, Big Sur.”
The gondola dipped by the monkey enclosure, where residents basked on branches. Nonetheless, Alice shivered. Harry noticed when she gave him back her empty glass how red her knuckles were. The tip of her nose was also red, which made her more endearing. She said, “Every day my maid searches the rubbish bin for incriminating evidence about me. She’s very sweet. She asked if I could leave something, anything she could give the police. I try to help her and stuff the bin with crossword puzzles. The police seem to find them extremely promising.”
“You won’t have any trouble keeping them happy.” Harry had seen her finish the crossword puzzle of The Times as quickly as she could write. She did crossword puzzles in four languages. Most of the day, she was a brainless thing who spent her life at the Ginza’s shops and smart cafés, but every morning she spent in the code room of the British embassy. Even Beechum didn’t know. Her husband thought she had volunteered as a coffee lady, which he thought a damn good sign.
“The Thought Police are after you, Harry. They aren’t going to stop you from taking off?”
“We’re working together. I’m thinking good thoughts now.”
“You told them about the Magic Show?”
“Not that.”
Her rosy cheeks drained of color. “You didn’t take them to Yokohama. Tell me you didn’t take them there.”
“They showed up. Maybe that will satisfy them I’m doing my part for the war effort.”
“What part is that?”
“Everyone contributes in their own fashion. You’re a genius. I’m a businessman, kind of.”
“You’re a gambler.”
“So is Yamamoto. He knows that no navy can go to war without a source of oil, and the closest source to Japan is Dutch Sumatra, thousands of miles away. Sinking the American Pacific fleet isn’t enough, because Roosevelt can move ships at full speed from the Atlantic. They’ll refuel at Pearl and start sinking the emperor’s sloppy little tankers. But if the Japanese knock out all the oil at Pearl first, that changes everything. It wouldn’t be hard. All you need is a Zero with a fifty-caliber gun to blow those tanks to kingdom come. Then the nearest fuel to Pearl Harbor is California, thousands of miles away. Every new drop would have to be brought by American tankers, which are in short supply because they’re fueling England and getting sunk on the North Atlantic route. The fleet at Pearl is replaceable. Wiping out the oil tanks would buy Japan one year, maybe two.”
“This is insane.” Alice closed her eyes. “First the gun, now this.”
“So all I’m doing is adding an element of caution.”