"Cat?" the Dutch ambassador asked. "I would think that the loss of his girlfriend would be more of a shock, but you seem to be stressing the death of the cat." The ambassador had dropped his voice, the others had gotten used to his booming way of speech, but they now discovered a different quality in the big blustering man with the large round gleaming face. There was no sarcasm in his question; he seemed genuinely puzzled and also touched.
"Yes," the chief constable said, and cleared his throat. "The sergeant is a handsome man and he used to attract a lot of women. His adventures amused the staff of our force, especially because they never lasted long and always seemed to end well. The sergeant has charm, real charm. He wasn't out for conquests, and though he was conquered now and then, the ladies allowed him to twist free again. His only real attachment seemed to be to his cat, a Siamese, rather a neurotic animal, I am afraid, for the cat lived in the sergeant's small apartment. It was only a year ago that the sergeant acquired a girlfriend whom he seemed to love. I am informed that the relationship was close. The lady's brother was killed last year, and de Gier helped to solve the crime. The attachment started at that time. He wanted to marry her but she didn't want to marry him. I don't know all the details, but I am mentioning the details I know, because they may influence our choice. The commissaris has the sergeant staying with him now; the man is in a state of shock, of course. Personally I think that he should be allowed to go to Japan. I spoke to him yesterday, and although his reflexes and way of behavior were rather disconnected, I think the change of scene will do him good. And he is close to his chief." The chief constable's eyes strayed and came to rest on the small precise body of the commissaris. "I think he is the best protection we could wish for my colleague here."
"Quite," the Dutch ambassador said.
"You agree?"
"Yes."
There seemed to be a question in the eyes of the chief constable.
"Sometimes we function best when we are under stress," the ambassador explained. "I wouldn't wish anyone to lose his girlfriend and favorite cat all at the same time, and there is the gruesome detail in this particular case that the sergeant had to shoot his cat himself, but the fact remains that a cruel shock like that will wake a man up. It may break a man at the same time, but that hasn't happened. Both you and the commissaris have observed the sergeant and you think he is capable of going to a foreign country to undertake some possibly very dangerous actions. A CID noncommissioned officer should have a higher breaking point that an ordinary citizen. The sergeant is also proficient in judo, a lighting technique I personally admire highly. Judo is a form of mysticism, or will be in its higher stages. The sergeant has a black belt, so he knows all the throws and grips and so on. After that the real training starts, the breaking of attachments that will, in the end, lead to complete liberation. My colleague may have something to say on the subject too. He knows far more about it and practices the art himself."
He half gestured, half waved, closing his speech and passing the word.
"Yes, yes," the Japanese ambassador said nervously, staring at his notes. The others waited. "Yes," he said again and inhaled deeply. "Indeed my colleague is right. You all know that judo belts come in various colors. The beginner's belt is white, for instance. Then there are bright colors. Orange and so forth. The black belt means great skillfulness, many tests have been passed and the teacher is satisfied. But in reality the owner of a black belt is still nowhere. In my country few have gone beyond the black belt. But mere proficiency can be surpassed, and I hear that here in Holland one man has taken the training to the end. He had been trained for many many years by a great master, a Korean who lives in London. As the training continues and the pupil learns he begins to forget. He forgets everything, his desires fall away and the moment will come when he has difficulty remembering his own name. He is no longer interested in wearing colored belts to attract the admiration of others. And eventually, when he has stopped caring altogether, he will be granted the greatest honor, he will wear the white belt again, the beginner's belt; but by that time he will no longer fight in public and he will be forgotten."
The ambassador was still staring at the sheet of paper in front of him. Now he looked up and seemed surprised at finding himself in a room full of people, people who had heard every word he had said. Mr. Johnson's eyes were glinting, the Dutch ambassador looked serious, the public prosecutor had sucked his cigar with such force that the end had become a ball of fire and the chief constable and the commissaris both smiled gently. The silence lasted for a few more seconds and then everybody, as if alerted by some secret signal, got up and began to shake hands. The two ambassadors fell back into their formal roles and wished the policemen luck, once again assuring them of their support. Mr. Johnson promised to come back a little later to discuss plans and was invited to dinner by the commissaris. The prosecutor excused himself and left, carefully carrying his sizzling cigar. The chief constable saw the ambassadors out, walking as far as the courtyard where gleaming oversize cars were waiting with uniformed drivers.
"Like old times," Mr. Johnson was saying to the commissaris. "I'll be flying out to Hong Kong too, but not in the same plane as yours. It's about time. I don't mind seeing a little action. I have been in Holland for two years now and I haven't been in a scrape yet. I wonder why they sent me here; maybe they thought I was getting old."
"Never," the commissaris said, in a soothing voice, patting his guest's shoulder. "You are still a young man. But you are right, this is a quiet country. I can use some excitement myself."
"It will be provided," Mr. Johnson said briskly. "Take my word for it. I have had dealings with the yakusa before. If I were a Japanese and I couldn't land a job in their secret service I would most definitely join the yakusa." He was nodding vigorously, both to himself and to the commissaris.
\\\\\ 8 /////
"My real name is hard to remember," the man was saying, "but my foreign friends in Tokyo call me Dorin, why, I don't know. I have been sent to assist you in any possible way."
The commissaris smiled and almost offered his hand, but remembered just in time that he was supposed to bow. He bowed, rather self-consciously. The man had already bowed several times, short quick bows that accompanied his staccato way of speaking. He had a pleasant open face with sharp features and regular white teeth. Most Japanese the commissaris had seen so far, in the plane and at the airport, had irregular teeth, although most were in excellent repair, patched with either gold or silver or some tinny metal.
The commissaris had had a short and pleasant flight from Hong Kong and had spent his few days in the Crown Colony well. He had walked about and done nothing in particular. He had also slept a lot and the new surroundings had made him forget most of the things that annoyed him in Amsterdam, such as the clanging of the streetcar which changed direction just in front of his house, the conversation of his wife's lady friends and police gossip. His rheumatism was still bothering him, but not to the degree he had been forced to get used to in the damp Dutch climate, and he had been able to take long baths, sipping occasionally from a plastic gallon jug of cooled orange juice and smoking his small cigars, of which he had remembered to bring several hundred. The few Chinese he had been in contact with, hotel staff, shopkeepers and waiters, had served him well, and not only in return for the tips he had distributed or the purchases he had made. They had seemed to like the little old man in his shantung suit and some had had time to notice the calmness of his eyes and the strange mixture of rigidity and subtlety that controlled his approach and reaction to whatever surrounded him.