"So the game is stalled," the commissaris said, and Yuiko translated. "What do you suggest we all do now?"
The setting sun burst through a dip in the hills surrounding the lake and the daimyo's face was suddenly lit up. He closed his eyes and smiled widely, enjoying the warmth spreading over his face. "Go home," he said leisurely. "Let's all go home. It's been a good day but nothing lasts and we need a meal and a rest. I would like to invite you gentlemen to a party at my house in the Rokko Mountains. It's hard to find so I will send a car. The car will take you to the airport and a plane will get you to us in half an hour. We have a private airport close by. Today is Wednesday, how about Friday night? The car can pick you up at your inn at four in the afternoon?"
Dorin's lips were still a narrow line in his face. "A party?" he asked flatly.
"Yes. And you can all stay the weekend. I think we should have time to talk. The business you have interfered with is very profitable. We can help you buy at this end and you can sell at your end, in Holland and in the other European countries. Dorin-san has proved himself in many ways during the last weeks. He can be the communication officer. You have been winning for some time now but nobody wins forever. If we join forces our chances will increase."
"A fusion," the commissaris said, and offered the daimyo a cigar from his flat tin. The daimyo struck a match and the two old men bent toward each other.
"A party," de Gier said. "Will your musicians from the Golden Dragon bar be at the party too?"
"Surely," the daimyo said. "You like jazz, don't you?"
"Sometimes," de Gier said. "Your musicians are very good."
"They have had a lot of practice and they are talented," the daimyo said. "I like jazz myself. I heard them play on a ship once. We were on a cruise. They said they would like to settle in Kyoto, that was some years ago. Since then they have played in our bars and nightclubs and they are well known now. Yes, they will be at the party and I am sure they will do their very best."
"I'd like to go," the commissaris said to Dorin. Dorin bowed. He was looking at the daimyo. His eyes glittered and his hand on the machine pistol's grip twitched.
"Don't bother to bring your arms," the daimyo said, and waved at the cutter, which turned and began to sail toward the two tied-up boats. "We are honorable people. You will be our guests until the moment we return you to your inn. If you disagree with our suggestions you will still be our guests. The yakusa believe in friendship." He put his hand on Yuiko's forearm. "Jin-gi."
"Jin-gi," Yuiko said. "The daimyo wants you to hear the word in Japanese. It means more than friendship."
The daimyo's thick index finger was tracing the characters in the air. "Jin-gi," he said again. "Dorin-san will be able to explain it to you. A most important word. You have shown us that you know the idea behind the word."
He bowed to de Gier. "You saved the life of a yakusa girl."
He turned heavily and bowed to the commissaris. "If you hadn't dressed Kono's wound he might have lost his hand. Our doctor said so. Kono isn't a healthy man; microbes can catch him easily."
The cutter came alongside and the daimyo got up and grabbed the rope on the sailboat's foredeck. The young man who had been pushed overboard by de Gier came aboard the fishing boat.
"Perhaps we should all return in our own boats," the daimyo suggested.
There were bows and smiles. Dorin smiled too, but his eyes still glittered.
\\\\\ 26 /////
"Aha," the Commissaris said, and readjusted the sash of his striped kimono. "That was an excellent meal, sergeant, and it was an excellent day too." He grinned delightedly and got up. They had been eating in their room and the two maids had just cleared the table. They had left a full coffeepot and two cups and cleaned the ashtray. The room was spotless as usual, and the soft colors of the tatamis blended with the evening light coming in through the open balcony doors.
"I am glad you feel well, sir. I thought the day on the water would have affected your legs." The sergeant was lying flat on his back, his head resting on his clasped hands. He had found the commissaris in the bathroom when he came back, after having dropped Yuiko off at her apartment. She had asked him in but he had excused himself, promising to phone the next day to make arrangements for picking her up for the daimyo's party. He had been sure that the commissaris would be in pain, but the old man had been singing in the wooden bathtub, only pausing long enough to ask de Gier to light a cigar for him.
"No. I feel fine," the commissaris said. He had opened the door of the cupboard and rolled out his matress. "These hard little pillows are really very comfortable once you get used to them." He knocked the pillow into shape and lay down. "You pour the coffee, sergeant, I am not going to do anything anymore. How did you like me waving that machine pistol? Did I look dangerous?"
De Gier grinned. "You looked deadly, sir."
"Yes," the commissaris said, sitting up to accept the cup. "I always wanted to say, 'I'll pump you full of lead.' It's such an idiotic statement to make. Why don't you ask Dorin to come over, maybe we can cheer him up. He didn't say a word on the way back; not that I minded, I think I was asleep most of the time."
It took de Gier a little while to locate Dorin. He wasn't in his room and the sergeant had to go down to the inn's office. One of the maids said that he might have gone to a little bar close by, and offered to go and fetch him. De Gier said he would go himself but the maids covered their mouths and tittered. He shouldn't go into the street in his kimono. The sergeant didn't understand. Surely a kimono is the right thing to wear in Japan. But it wasn't. The innkeeper was summoned from his private quarters to explain. The kimono de Gier was wearing was a bath kimono, not to be worn outdoors. He protested that he had seen Japanese gentlemen in the train, dressed only in their underwear, and in the middle of the day. Yes, but that was different. He gave up and went back to his room. The maid ran off to fetch Dorin.
Dorin came in exhaling a strong sweet smell of alcohol. His eyes were bloodshot. He was smiling but the smile only touched his face. The commissaris fetched a cushion from the cupboard and placed it near the toko-noma in which the maids had placed fresh flowers, two wild roses, bending down gracefully from lone stems.
"I am sorry," the commissaris said. "I didn't want to disturb you, but the sergeant and I thought that you might like to have coffee with us. You haven't had your bath yet?"
Dorin was still wearing the clothes he had worn on the launch, a Windbreaker and a pair of jeans, and his hair stood up.
"Well," the commissaris said when Dorin had been given his coffee by the sergeant. "How do you feel about our quest now? Do you think we have made some headway?"
Dorin nodded once and raised the cup to his lips.
"You don't?" the commissaris asked, and looked at the scroll which formed the background of the two wild roses in the tokonoma. The scroll showed a single character, drawn with a thick brush. The innkeeper had told him that the character stood for "dreams" and had been given to his father by the former abbot of Daidharmaji. It had been drawn by the abbot just before he died. He had made a number of scrolls, all with the same character, and had given them to the people he had known well, explaining that the word summed up his total experience of the life he was about to finish.