The Japanese industrialist looked a little shaken. As one of the leaders of Gamma, he was aware of the very real dangers inherent in the struggle to reform the Japanese system, but Fitzduane's easy familiarity with the world of violence was unsettling. Yoshokawa's wars stopped at trade and politics. Fitzduane's wars had not such limitations. The Irishman might not like the necessity of killing, but he didn't to shirk it. Faced with no alternatives, he thought pragmatically in terms of what had to be done. His cause might be just, but such an approach was chilling to encounter for the uninitiated.
"We are dealing with multiple forces here," said Fitzduane. "And each element is strong enough and well enough entrenched to reconstitute itself when damaged. Yaibo lose a handful of terrorists. No problem, they can always recruit more. The Namakas lose a few contract yakuza and then their head of security and, for all practical purposes, they are absolutely unaffected and even turn Kitano's death to advantage. Then Kei Namaka is killed and Namaka Special Steels is exposed as making illegal nuclear plants for the North Koreans — and not only does Fumio claim innocence, but he gets the plant back within a couple of weeks, because he had massive political support and all the blame can be shoved on the dead brother. And in the shadows we have Katsuda, kuromaku in waiting, who bumps off Hodama and gets away with it, and behind him, Schwanberg, doubtless with some other candidate lined up in case Katsuda comes down with a cold.
"Hell, this is like Vietnam. Slogging through the boonies won't work. We need a little chutzpah here, Yoshokawa-san. Think in terms of fencing, if you will. The clash of blades is all very exciting, but there comes a time when you have got to end it with a single aimed thrust."
Yoshokawa made a gesture of helplessness and then filled Fitzduane's wineglass. "But what you are proposing, Fitzduane-san, can only be done with the cooperation of the police, and they will not accept it. It involves setting up a situation where the loss of life is certain, and that will not be tolerated."
"The Tokyo Metropolitan Police won't officially back this, I'll grant you," said Fitzduane, "but Gamma has enough political muscle to set it up and do damage limitation afterwards. For all practical purposes, the Spider runs the department. If he backs it, it can happen. And Koancho will cooperate. That I already know."
"What about the Americans?" said Yoshokawa. "Schwanberg is senior CIA."
"Leave the CIA to me," said Fitzduane.
Yoshokawa sipped some wine and was lost in silence. Then he looked at Fitzduane and shook his head regretfully. "The ruling council of Gamma are moderates," he said. "They want reform, but they will not support something as drastic as what you have proposed. Things are not that desperate."
"They are," said Fitzduane grimly, "and if we do nothing, they are going to get worse. Believe me."
Yoshokawa felt dread as he heard and agreed with his friend's words, but he knew his colleagues on Gamma. The key man to persuade in this situation was the Spider, and Yoshokawa just knew he would not support Fitzduane's scheme unless pushed to the edge.
* * * * *
Tokyo, Japan
July 10
Adachi let himself into his apartment. It had been cleaned up and redecorated while he was ill and staying at his parents', and now there was no trace of the gunfight and of Sergeant Fujiwara's violent death.
He had thought of moving, but he liked the place, and the unpleasant memories of that particular incident were more than compensated for by other happier recollections. Most of all, he was reminded of Chifune. When he closed his eyes, he could see her and smell her and touch her, and when he slept at night she slept beside him.
He opened his eyes. Reality was an empty apartment and he was hungry and he had work to do.
He had bought some take-out food at the restaurant on the corner and now he laid it out on the low table and went to the fridge and got a beer.
The cold liquid and the food gave him a lift. He smiled to himself as he thought about finding the tapes. Now, that was an example of good police work and stamina if ever anything was. He, Adachi-san, might be a flawed human being and incapable of pinning down a beautiful butterfly like Chifune, but, whatever his limitations, he was a good policeman and that made him very proud. And he knew now that his achievements made his parents proud also, and that was very satisfying. They had not been so keen on his choice of a career in the early days.
When Adachi had been at home convalescing he had thought about the late Inspector Fujiwara. The man had been an excellent administrator, well-organized and thorough. Indeed, it was his organizational skills which had made it possible for him to lead his double life without detection for so long.
The investigation that had followed Fujiwara's death had been extraordinarily thorough and controlled directly by the Spider. Secret bank accounts had been found, together with other evidence of the policeman's duplicity, yet, in Adachi's opinion, as he read the reports, there was still something missing. Fujiwara, the investigation showed, was a greedy man who kept a flashlight by the bed in case of power failure and had spare batteries for the flashlight and candles in reserve. The spare tire in his car was nearly new and correctly inflated. He had regular health checks more often than was absolutely necessary. His substantial life insurance was paid up.
Something told Adachi that such a man would take some precautions against his criminal employers. Supplementing his police salary by taking bribes from the Katsuda-gumi was a hazardous business. He was not a full-fledged member of the gang. That meant he was deniable and disposable, and he would have known this. So he would have made sure to have something on his extracurricular employers, a little blackmail to create a balance of power.
And yet the Spider's team, despite their success in further confirming that Fujiwara was dirty and in turning up considerable sums of money he had hidden away, still did not find the blackmail material that Adachi was convinced was there. Better yet, Fujiwara had personally participated in the Hodama hit. He had been in Hodama's house. And Hodama was a man who kept records.
Possibly, Fujiwara had even participated in sanitizing the process. Surely he would not have missed such an opportunity. Surely, he would have pocketed something to help secure his position if matters turned against him. If he could deceive the Tokyo MPD day after day, he could certainly pull a fast one on the Katsuda-gumi.
When Adachi returned to duty, he went to his office off the squad room and tried to imagine where Fujiwara might have concealed something. The reports were meticulous in documenting every detail of the searches. Checklists had been compiled and each item methodically ticked off. Rooms had been photographed and each search area marked. The houses of friends and associates had been searched. Fujiwara's desk and locker had been searched and the squad room as a whole turned over.
Nothing.
Adachi had lain back on the too-small sofa and closed his eyes. It had taken him several days, but he had read every document in the now-vast Fujiwara case file and he could not think of a single thing the search team had missed. The Spider's close supervision was apparent. Where a report was not clear enough or some shortcut had taken place the first time around, there was a margin note by the Spider in his distinctive hand, and a page or two later in the file, a memo would turn up ordering a fresh search or a further check.