"Who killed Hodama?" asked Fitzduane.
The DSG pursed his lips. "This is a confusing matter," he said. "The position of the Namakas has been weakened as a result of his death, but the evidence points to the Namakas themselves as having ordered his death. The theory is that Hodama was going to publicly abandon the Namakas because they may be in financial trouble — and he was killed as the lesser of two evils."
"You have conclusive evidence against the Namakas?" said Fitzduane.
"Unfortunately, we do not," said the DSG. "For some months, the case against them increased steadily, and then the investigation ground to a halt. Everything points toward the Namakas, but we can prove nothing. Our inquiries continue under an excellent man, but for all practical purposes we are..." He searched for the word:
"Stuck," offered Fitzduane.
"Quite so," said the DSG.
There was a long silence. Kilmara was tempted to speak, but he wanted to encourage the Japanese to continue if he would. It had been the devil of a job to win him over in the first place. Now he was anxious to get the Spider off the sidelines and operationally involved.
The next action would best be suggested by the Japanese. It must appear to be the Spider's idea. He would be committed to it better if he actually spoke the words. Of course, Fitzduane was going to go to Japan anyway, but politically things would go so much better if it appeared as a Japanese initiative. This was the strategy that Kilmara had sold to Fitzduane, and he and Yoshokawa had been working on from their respective ends for some time while Fitzduane got himself fully fit.
But would the Spider bite? Kilmara thought it likely, given that they had come this far, but there was the matter of human chemistry. If the Spider did not like the look of Fitzduane, all bets were off.
"Fitzduane-san," said the Spider cautiously, "when do you think you will be fully fit?"
Fitzduane laughed. "Pretty soon," he said. "I appreciate the concern, but why do you ask?"
The Spider looked at Kilmara and then at Yoshokawa. Kilmara smiled and Yoshokawa nodded.
The Spider drew himself up in his chair. "Fitzduane-san," he said, "we would like you to come to join our investigation in Japan. We would be deeply honored."
Bull's-eye! thought Kilmara. Then he nearly strangled Fitzduane. There was such a thing as playing too hard to get.
"I am equally honored by you invitation, Deputy Superintendent-General-san," said Fitzduane, "but I do not speak your language and I am not a trained investigator. I'm not sure I would be that much use to you." Internally, he had felt a rush of exhilaration as the Spider had spoken, because at last he would be taking the fight to the enemy, but Yoshokawa had advised that a certain modest reluctance would be in order.
Yoshokawa spoke. "The Deputy Superintendent-General knows your reputation," he said. "He knows what you did in Bern. He is familiar with the story of the Hangman. He knows how you saved the life of my son. He does not make this request lightly."
"The simple fact is," said Kilmara, "that despite all the precautions, we can't keep you safe here indefinitely. That being so, there is a lot to be said for seizing the initiative and taking the fight to the enemy. The DSG thinks your presence in Japan would force them to take some action which could open this whole thing up."
"Fitzduane-san," came a voice from the end of the table that had not been heard till now. "I hesitate to put this directly, but you have a choice. You can either remain a target or act as bait." Fitzduane looked at the speaker, Chifune Tanabu, with surprise and some amusement.
"Tanabu-san is, perhaps, a little blunt, but in essence she is quite correct," said the Spider. "You will be well-guarded, of course, by our best people. However, I should add that it will not be possible for you to carry a firearm. Even in the circumstances, that would be quite impermissible."
Fitzduane laughed so much, his leg started to hurt. He stood up to exercise and still could not stop laughing. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He had not felt this good in months. The Spider looked uncomfortable at first, but soon everyone was laughing.
When he had calmed down, Fitzduane produced some drinks and the meeting took a break. He thanked God — or whoever ran things — for having a decided sense of humor. It looked like he would be going manhunting with little more for protection than his ability to talk his way out of trouble. And he had the feeling that verbal diplomacy, in this context, was not going to be enough.
Still, he and Kilmara had anticipated this problem.
Fitzduane would not be permitted to carry a gun, but he would to be entirely without weapons.
* * * * *
Paris, France
May 28
Since Yaibo had not been completely successful at eliminating the organ-grinder, Reiko Oshima had decided to even the score with a monkey — a monkey which would surely draw Fitzduane out of his little fortress of an island, she thought with satisfaction.
Reiko Oshima's reputation rivaled that of Carlos the Jackal.
It was based not only on the savagery of Yaibo's actions, but also on her appearance. Her gentle beauty was a startling contrast to the mayhem she caused. She was a natural for the media. The sobriquet ‘Lethal Angel’ had soon followed.
Oshima's file was high in the pile of every counterterrorist organization and her photo was prominent on every passport control of significance, but she still managed to crisscross the globe with apparent ease. She was not just a leader and a planner. She was an activist who thrived on risk. She liked to get blood on her hands. And she knew that the media impact of an incident in which she was seen to have participated would be much enhanced.
The secret of Oshima's ability to travel unhindered by the security services lay in her distinctive appearance.
The authorities were looking for a beautiful Japanese woman in her late thirties. They were quite uninterested in a plump, bucktoothed matron with graying hair in her early fifties who was touring Europe with a party of other schoolteachers. They were quite used to Japanese tourists. The hard currency was welcome, and they gave little trouble. The tourists had a fondness, which they could afford to indulge given the strength of the yen, for European luxury goods like those of Gucci and Cardin. Further, despite the steady publicity given to the Japanese Red Army, Yaibo, and various right-wing organizations, the Japanese were not readily associated with terrorism. The typical terrorist in Europe was profiled as being from the Middle East or possibly Irish. Japanese were generally perceived — quite reasonably, given the law-abiding nature of most — as not a threat.
Oshima, plumped out around the middle, in sensible, flat, lace-up leather shoes, gray suitably applied to her hair, bespectacled and with her cheeks padded and her dental plate in place over her real teeth, entered France with her fellow teachers in a rented minibus and headed toward Paris.
No one gave them a second glance. In her opinion, mainland Europe, with a dense population in which to hide and internal borders coming down, was child's play to move around. Certain other countries, like island Britain, were not so easy. Israel, no matter what the disguise, was a problem. The Israelis did not pay lip service to counterterrorism. They were permanently at the sharp end. They took the tracking down of terrorists very seriously indeed.