“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” Dirk said.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Takagawa replied.
“You know what I want,” Dirk said.
Takagawa nodded.
“Then why didn’t you just give it to my people?”
For the first time, the wizened old man looked into Dirk’s eyes.
“They came for the manifest,” he said. “I could have given it to them. But I would not do it because it would have misled you. And I was not willing to lie to you.”
“So you gave them nothing,” Dirk said.
Takagawa nodded. “There seemed to me some honor in not being overtly deceptive. If I said nothing, I have not lied. At least you would know to be concerned. But to tell you a falsehood after what you have done for me… I could not do such a thing and face you.”
“Why not just tell me the truth?” Dirk asked.
“My position in Shokara is not absolute,” Takagawa said. “Always there is palace intrigue to be dealt with. To tell you the truth would offend others. Perhaps even expose Shokara to liability. Or sanctions by your government.”
Pitt didn’t blink. He needed answers. At this point the cost to Shokara Shipping did not concern him.
“Haruto,” Dirk said, “three of my people were injured trying to stop the hijacking of your ship. Two more have been attacked since we began investigating, and one of them is now in a coma while his wife prays for him to come back to her. So forgive me for being blunt, but I don’t care what kind of problems it brings. If you’re the man I think you are, then you know it’s time to speak.”
Takagawa looked at the twisted metal nameplate in front of him and then into Dirk’s eyes. He stared long and hard before speaking. “Perhaps you have saved me twice,” he whispered.
With that, he reached for a briefcase at his feet and lifted it up to the table. He laid it flat, popped the latches, and opened it. Reaching inside, he pulled out a folder, which he handed to Dirk.
“This is the information you seek,” he said.
“What am I going to find in here?” Dirk asked.
“The truth.”
“Which is?”
“The cargo on the Kinjara Maruwas bound for Hong Kong. Most of it was standard bulk materials, but included in the mix and not listed on the manifest were three hundred tons of titanium-doped YBCO.”
“What’s YBCO?” Pitt asked.
“Yttrium, barium, copper, oxide,” Takagawa explained. “It’s an intricate crystalline compound that acts as a high-temperature superconductor. A newer, more advanced version has been developed that can be doped with titanium and iron peptides: the Ti version. It’s by far the strongest superconductor ever created.”
“Strongest?” Pitt asked. “What do you mean?”
“I wouldn’t be able to explain it,” Takagawa said. “I’m just an old ship’s captain. But you must have people who will understand. The information I have on it is in there.”
Pitt would get the information to Hiram Yaeger as soon as he returned to the office. “Why were you afraid to tell me that?” Pitt asked.
“Because it’s not a naturally occurring compound,” Takagawa said. “It’s created in a lab. The Ti version is patented by an American corporation, and, more important, it’s listed as a restricted technology. Transfer to other nations, including China, is illegal. By allowing it onto our ship, Shokara is in violation of this law.”
Now Pitt began to understand. With economic tensions between the U.S. and China always simmering, and claims, mostly substantiated, that the Chinese government and its corporations preferred espionage and theft to honest development, neither the Chinese nor the U.S. government would be happy to hear that this compound had been shipped to Hong Kong. But with both countries needing each other, the most likely candidate to be punished and made a scapegoat would be the shipper: Shokara.
“Why would you be involved in something like this?” Pitt asked. “This country has been phenomenally good to you.”
“I was not aware of it until after the Kinjara Maruwent down,” Takagawa said.
Dirk believed that. He sensed the heavy heart and the weight of dishonor that Takagawa felt.
“I believe someone boarded that ship to steal something,” Pitt said. “It sounds like this YBCO was the most likely target.”
“It is worth more than its weight in gold,” Takagawa said.
“Do you know anything about the people who hit your ship?” Pitt asked. “Any rumors even?”
Takagawa shook his head.
There had to be something. “Where did you load the compound?”
“Freetown,” Takagawa said. “Sierra Leone.”
Dirk had been in Freetown ten years back when NUMA had consulted on a project to deepen the navigation channel. Though the country was still a shambles, Freetown was still one of the busiest ports in West Africa at the time.
From what he’d heard, things had improved quite a bit under the autocratic leadership of its president, Djemma Garand, but it wasn’t exactly a hub of high-tech activity.
“Could it have come from there?” he asked.
Takagawa shook his head. “Sierra Leone has mines and mineral wealth, but, as I said, YBCO doesn’t come from the ground.”
“So Freetown was a transfer point,” Pitt said.
“It happens this way,” Takagawa said. “The loophole. You transfer to a country that is legally allowed to take the material and they send it to a third party without violating any of their own national laws. And then that third party sends it to Russia or China or Pakistan.”
“Do you have any idea who the buyer is?” Dirk asked.
“They will deny it, but it’s in there,” Takagawa said. “Certainly it does not matter now. They did not receive what they paid for.”
Dirk’s mind was working overtime, playing catch-up. “What about the seller?”
Takagawa shook his head. “Not known to me.”
Dirk didn’t like the picture that was forming. “I need a favor,” he said respectfully.
“I can give you no more.”
Pitt stared at him. “Many of your crew died in flames, Haruto.”
Takagawa closed his eyes as if in pain. His left hand went unconsciously to his right wrist and the scars. “Are you chasing them?” he asked.
“I’m about to start,” Dirk said.
“Then I will give you all I can find.”
Pitt stood and bowed his head slightly. “Thank you,” he said. “I promise it will go no further.”
Takagawa nodded but seemed unable to look directly at Dirk. Finally, Pitt turned to go.
“I was wondering,” Takagawa said, “do you still have such wonderful cars? I collect them now myself.”
Pitt stopped and turned back. “Yes, I still have them, and a few more.”
“What one did you drive here tonight?” Takagawa asked, smiling just a bit, no doubt remembering how he and Pitt had discussed cars as a way to stay calm during their escape from the inferno thirty years back.
Pitt shook his head. “I took a cab.”
Takagawa seemed disappointed. “A pity.”
“But the other day,” Pitt said, “I took my Duesenberg roadster out for a spin.”
Takagawa’s face brightened, as if the thought of Pitt at the controls of the luxurious automobile warmed his heart somehow.
“Friday,” Takagawa said.
Dirk nodded. “It was a nice day for a drive.”
30
KURT AUSTIN SLID THE DOOR of the microvan open and stepped out onto the street fronting Praia Formosa. The night was quiet; he could hear the waves breaking on the beach just beyond. He offered a hand to Katarina, helped her through the door, and paid the driver.
“Do you want to earn another fare?” he asked.
“Sure,” the driver said, his round face lighting up.
“Go around the block,” Kurt said, “and wait down the end with your lights off and watch for us.” In his hand Kurt held out a hundred-dollar bill. He ripped it in half and gave one piece to the driver.