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“He had a heart condition, but always smoked anyway. All his government cronies did, and he felt he needed to do it to fit in. He was so much a part of the system, in a way, he gave his life for it.”

I took a sip of the smoky liquid and swallowed. “Lung cancer is a terrible way to go,” I said. “At least, the way he died, he didn’t suffer.” The sentiment was weirdly heartfelt.

“That’s true, and I’m grateful for it.”

“Forgive me if I’m prying, but what do you mean when you say the diagnosis made him reassess his life?”

She was looking past me, her eyes unfocused. “In the end, he realized that he had spent his life being part of the problem, as Ken would say. He decided he wanted to be part of the solution.”

“Did he have time to do that?”

“I don’t think so. But he told me he wanted to do something, wanted to do something right, before he died. The main thing was that he felt that way.”

“How do you know he didn’t have time?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes coming back to me.

“Your father — he’s diagnosed, suddenly face-to-face with his own mortality. He wants to do something to atone for the past. Could he have? In such a short time?”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said, and instantly I knew I had bumped up against that defensive wall again.

“I’m thinking about what we talked about the other day. About regret. If there’s something you regret, but you’ve only got a short time to do something about it, what do you do?”

“I imagine that would be different for everyone, depending on the nature of your regrets.”

C’mon, Midori. Work with me. “What would your father have done? Was there anything that could have reversed the things he came to regret?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

But you do know, I thought. A reporter he was meeting with contacted you. You know, but you’re not telling me.

“What I mean is, maybe he was trying to do something to be part of the solution, even if you couldn’t see it. Maybe he talked to his colleagues, told them about his change of heart, tried to get them to change theirs. Who knows?”

She was quiet, and I thought, That’s it, that’s as far as you can possibly push it, she’s going to get suspicious and clam up on you now for sure.

But after a moment she said, “Are you asking because of a regret of your own?”

I looked at her, simultaneously disturbed by the truth of her question and relieved at the cover it afforded me. “I’m not sure,” I said.

“Why don’t you just tell me?”

I felt like I’d been hit with an aikido throw. “No,” I said, my voice low.

“Am I that hard to talk to?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“No,” I said, smiling into her dark eyes. “You’re easy. That’s the problem.”

She sighed. “You’re a strange man, John. You’re so obviously uncomfortable talking about yourself.”

“I’m more interested in you.”

“In my father.”

“I thought there’d be a lesson there for me. That’s all.”

“Some lessons you have to learn for yourself.”

“Probably true. But I try to learn them from others when I can. I’m sorry for pressing.”

She gave me a small smile. “That’s okay. This is all still a little recent.”

“Of course it is,” I said, recognizing the dead end. I looked at my watch. “I should get you home.”

This was apt to be tricky. On the one hand, we had undeniable chemistry, and it wasn’t inconceivable that she would invite me up for a drink or something. If she did, I’d get a chance to make sure her apartment was secure, although I would have to be careful once we were inside. I couldn’t let anything stupid happen — more stupid than the time I had already spent with her and the things I had already said.

On the other hand, if she wanted to go home alone, it would be hard for me to escort her without seeming like I was angling for a way to get into her bed. It would be awkward. But I couldn’t just turn her loose alone. They knew where she lived.

We thanked Satoh-san for his hospitality and for the delicious introduction to the rare Ardbeg. I paid the bill, and we took the stairs down into the now slightly chilly Omotesando night air. The streets were quiet.

“Which way are you heading?” Midori asked me. “From around here, I usually walk.”

“I’ll go with you. I’d like to see you all the way home.”

“You don’t have to.”

I looked down for a moment, then back at her. “I’d like to,” I said again, thinking of Benny’s write-up on the bulletin board.

She smiled. “Okay.”

It was a fifteen-minute walk to her building. I didn’t observe anyone behind us. Not a surprise, given Mr. Bland’s departure from the scene.

When we reached the entranceway of her building, she took her keys out and turned to me. “Jaa . . .” Well, then . . .

It was a polite good night. But I had to see her inside. “You’ll be okay from here?”

She looked at me knowingly, although she didn’t really know. “I live here. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Have you got a phone number?” I already knew it, of course, but I had to keep up appearances.

“No, I don’t have a phone.”

Wow. That bad. “Yeah, I’m a bit of a Luddite myself. If something comes up, send me a smoke signal, okay?”

She giggled. “Five, two, seven, five-six, four, five, six. I was only teasing.”

“Right. Can I call you sometime?” In about five minutes, for example, to make sure there’s no one waiting for you in your apartment.

“I hope you will.”

I took out a pen and wrote the number down on my hand.

She was looking at me, half smiling. The kiss was there, if I wanted it.

I turned and walked back up the path toward the street.

She called out after me. “John?”

I turned.

“I think there’s a radical in you trying to get out.”

Several ripostes came quickly to mind. Instead: “Good night, Midori.”

I turned and walked away, pausing at the sidewalk to look back. But she had already gone inside, and the glass doors were closing behind her.

11

I SLIPPED INTO a parking area that faced the entrance. Hanging back beyond the perimeter of light cast from inside, I saw her waiting for an elevator to her right. From where I was standing I could see the doors open when it arrived but couldn’t see inside it. I watched her step inside, and then the doors closed.

No one seemed to be lurking outside. Unless they were waiting in her apartment or nearby, she would be safe for the night.

I took out Harry’s unit and activated her phone, then listened in on my cell phone. Silence.

A minute later, I heard her door being unlocked and opened, then closed. Muffled footsteps. Then the sound of more footsteps, from more than one person. A loud gasp.

Then a male voice: “Listen. Listen carefully. Don’t be afraid. We’re sorry to alarm you. We’re investigating a matter of national security. We have to move with great circumspection. Please understand.”

Midori’s voice, not much more than a whisper: “Show me . . . Show me identification.”

“We don’t have time for that. We have some questions that we need to ask you, and then we’ll leave.”

“Show me some ID,” I heard her say, her voice stronger now, “or I’m going to start making noise. And the walls in this building are really, really thin. People can probably already hear.”

My heart leaped. She had instinct and she had guts.

“No noise, please,” came the reply. Then the reverberation of a hard slap.

They were roughing her up. I was going to have to move.

I heard her breathing, ragged. “What the hell do you want?”