“That’s not necessary,” he said. “Forgive me for doubting you. I should have known…you wouldn’t do something like this.”
I wasn’t as certain as he was. But weirdly, I wanted to deserve his confidence.
“I wouldn’t and I didn’t. But I should have known she wouldn’t listen to me. She was out of her mind and told me she didn’t want to go to the cops because most of them are in bed with the yakuza. I should have called you myself and told you to pick her up.”
He sighed. “Well, she was scared, but she wasn’t stupid. Remind me, why do you think Fukumoto Junior had her killed?”
This part was delicate. “She told me Mad Dog is the one who had his old man killed, and that he used her to help make it happen. It sounds like this was just a case of tying up loose ends.”
We walked in silence for a moment. “I don’t think you’re lying to me, Rain-san. But your truth is like the lotuses on this pond. Captivating, certainly, but more than anything they conceal what lies beneath.”
I glanced out at the lotuses, then at him. “That was unusually poetic of you.”
He nodded. “An early morning flight of fancy. Was it inaccurate?”
“All right. I’ll tell you what I know. And then I’m going to ask you another favor. A slightly larger one than last time.”
So I told him. I elided what needed eliding, but he got the drift. Miyamoto I left out entirely, claiming I knew nothing about my bagman counterpart, which would have been expected in any event. Not many bagmen would be stupid enough — or, as it had turned out, fortunate enough — to have struck up the kind of friendship and trust I had with Miyamoto. Naturally, I told him nothing about the service I had performed for Miyamoto, or about my involvement in any of the other killings. He would intuit and suspect much of it, of course, but he’d already told me that as long as I confessed to no crimes, we had an understanding.
“This is potentially explosive,” he said when I was finished. “The CIA, bribing Japanese politicians?”
“I think they conceive of it more as ‘political assistance’ or whatever than as bribes.”
“I’m sure they do. What kind of proof do you have of any of this?”
I had a feeling he would ask. “Virtually none. It’s all done with cash and through cutouts. And before you ask me to go in undercover, number one, the answer is no, and number two is, I’m blown anyway. They’re all after me.”
“All because of the incident at Ueno? Those chinpira who jumped you?”
He knew it was bullshit. And he could sense the rest. But I wasn’t going to confirm anything.
“As far as I know.”
We walked in silence again. The sun was up now, and it was beginning to get hot. There were more people around, more sounds of traffic and trains in the distance. The city was stirring itself from slumber.
“What will you do?” he said. “This time, you’ve really pissed off the wrong people.”
“That’s…the favor I need to ask.”
“Yes?”
“Those two yakuza killed on Roppongi-dōri last night — or actually, early this morning. What’s the procedure with the bodies?”
He shrugged. “The bodies were taken to the Jikei Hospital morgue. They’ll be pronounced dead, a forensic pathologist will examine them and file his report, and they’ll be cremated. Why?”
“I need one of them.”
He stopped and looked at me, and for once, his unflappable calm, which always seemed the product of his ability to think faster and see farther ahead, seemed to desert him. He shook his head as though bewildered and said, “For what?”
I told him my plan. “All I need from you,” I said, “is a little help…shaping the way it looks after.”
“You mean a cover-up.”
“That seems like a strong phrase. No one’s going to get hurt. And it seems like a fair trade in exchange for the kind of information I just gave you on CIA payoffs to the LDP.”
“You have no proof of those payoffs.”
“Maybe not, but now that you know about them, and everything else, you’ll know where to find proof. If you want to look for it. I’m not sure it’s a good idea. These people don’t like exposure, I’ve discovered.”
He nodded, watching me.
“What?” I said.
He sighed. “I feel unaccountably sad.”
“Imagine how I feel.”
He offered a small smile. “Do you need money?”
I squeezed his shoulder, touched. “No. I’ve got enough.”
“A passport?”
“That…I could use a little help with. Wouldn’t be a good idea to travel under my own.” I realized I should have thought of a new passport sooner, before it counted. So much had been happening, I hadn’t gamed things out all the way through. I promised I would never let that happen again.
“I can help you with the travel papers. But how long will you stay away?”
“How long do you think I’ll need to?”
“At least a year,” he said, nodding resignedly and sounding like a doctor delivering the diagnosis for a fatal disease. “Probably longer.”
I looked out over the lotuses. The sun was fully visible above them now.
“Well. I’ve always wanted to see the world.”
“Haven’t you seen enough?”
I tried to smile, but it faltered. “Yeah. But I guess I’m going to see a little more.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I spent the day getting to know Jikei Hospital. The reianshitsu, the hospital morgue, was in the basement of the sprawling facility. Unlike the bright, windowed, carpeted areas above, obviously intended for public consumption, the basement felt dim and dreary, an afterthought, a relic. Dusty cardboard boxes lined the peeling walls; the tile floor was chipped and cracked; an old wheelchair sat in a corner, a stack of paper folders moldering in its seat. I thought of Sayaka, then shoved the thought away. The overhead florescent lights, cold, inert, and faintly buzzing, seemed only to enhance the gloom rather than dispel it. Hardly an Elysian Fields kind of a sendoff for anyone who wound up here, though I supposed there weren’t many complaints.
I passed several hospital employees while I wandered in the area, and while I was prepared to deal with any inquiries by responding in English as though I were a lost, illiterate, visiting Nisei, no one took any notice of me, much less challenged my presence. Not only did the Jikei morgue lack security, it also plainly lacked security consciousness. Which suited me perfectly.
When I was satisfied I was sufficiently familiar with the layout of the hospital and its grounds, I picked up a few items I thought I would need: lubricant, from a bicycle store; a surgical mask, surgical scrubs, and a white lab coat from a medical supply store; a blanket, hat, spare shoes, and a new shoulder bag, from a discount store. Then I rented a car from a company in Ueno. I told them I needed it for only twenty-four hours, paid a cash deposit, and left Thanatos parked right around the corner. Then I checked the John Smith answering service. Unsurprisingly, there was a message from McGraw. I called him.
“Okay,” he said. “We managed to catch a break.”
It was weird, hearing him use the same phrase with his new go-to guy that he’d used not so long ago with me. “Yes?”
“I’m supposed to meet him at eight o’clock tomorrow morning at Benten Island. Shinobazu Pond, in Ueno Park. Do you know it?”
“I know Ueno Park.”
“The pond’s at the south end, and the island’s in the center of it. You won’t have any trouble finding it. Now, here’s the thing. Rain’s probably expecting this to be a setup. Hell, for all I know, he’s using it to set me up. He’s gotten pretty wise tactically, and I’m expecting him to show up very early. If you want to get to him, I’d advise that you get there at sunup. I imagine he’ll be there not long after to reconnoiter. But he’s going to recognize you, right? Is that a problem? Will it make him suspicious?”