Red Shark

“Jake, the people who live in this neighborhood don’t go around wearing double-breasted suits.”

“Right. Let’s move it.”

“Quick, go out the front before he comes back,” Dr. Kida said. “Cut across the lane to my friend Higashi-san’s house and take the path to the canal.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” Scott said, “that I’ve brought trouble to your door.”

“No, Tokugawa brings the trouble. Go! Now!”

“Father, the three of you can’t stay here,” Fumiko protested. “You have to come with us.”

He pushed Fumiko toward the door. “Go!”

34

West of Tokyo

“This way,” Scott called. But Fumiko stood rooted in place by the open door of her parents’ house.

It took a heartbeat for Scott to register the roar of a black Mercedes-Benz charging down the lane like a rampaging killing machine. He heard Fumiko’s scream, a warning to the elderly Higashi-san pedaling home on his bicycle. Too late, Scott saw the Benz’s snout plow into Higashi, watched his twisted, broken body fly into the air, only to be crushed under the car’s rear wheels as the driver aimed at Scott and Fumiko.

At the last possible moment Scott lashed an arm around Fumiko’s waist and dove with her, headlong, back into the open doorway. The car slewed to stop in front of the house; a rear door flew open; two men tore Fumiko from Scott’s grasp and threw her inside the car. The Benz, with Higashi’s smashed and twisted bicycle embedded in its grille, rear tires howling, smoking white, accelerated brutally, a trail of carnage in its wake.

There was a moment of shocked silence before the neighborhood erupted and people poured from their homes, shouting, wailing, pointing at Higashi’s body, cut almost in half, at the gray rope of guts lying in the gutter running with blood. Scott caught a glimpse of Dr. Kida in the crowd, bent double with grief.

The crowd surged around Scott like an incoming tide. Already a police car with flashing blue lights was working its way up the lane. In another minute he’d be trapped. Scott fought his way upstream through the gapers, not wanting to believe that Higashi-san had been brutally murdered, that Fumiko had been snatched from his arms, and he was half expecting, hoping at any moment, to see the car roar back up the street with her inside.

A man in a black raincoat stood on tiptoe, spotted the tall American clawing past pedestrians, and surged after him.

Tokugawa stood elbow in palm, finger to his lips, gazing into the beautifully tended koi pond in the garden. A school of silver, orange, and black koi had massed at water’s edge to feed. He watched them and ruminated on the serenity of his surroundings, where one could discover the universe in a grain of sand and experience a measure of well-being missing in the harsh give-and-take of modern Japanese life.

Footsteps crunching on gravel broke his mood as Kana Asuka approached and bowed. Tokugawa reciprocated.

“What are the Taiwanese saying about Matsu Shan?” Tokugawa asked.

“A local issue between druglords settled the old-fashioned way.”

Tokugawa continued his study of the feeding koi. “And our friends on the mainland?”

“Naturally they had questions about the White Dragon incident but seemed to accept the explanation offered by the Taiwanese. New China News Agency reported it was an accident that sank the vessel and killed Wu Chow Fat.”

“And the financial arrangements?”

“They are complete. Deposits have been made to Meji accounts in Tokyo, Zurich, and Paris.”

Tokugawa faced Kana. “The girl?”

“Ojima has her. Unfortunately, a problem arose, which of course we will settle with the local authorities.”

“What kind of problem?”

“An elderly man was killed. It was unavoidable.”

Tokugawa tossed more food to the koi. “And the American?”

“He is under surveillance. Director Kabe assures me that he will be forced to leave Japan within twenty-four hours or face arrest.”

“They say he is an individualist, a loner. Unpredictable. Do you get my meaning?”

“Hai.”

Tokugawa bowed his thanks. Alone again, he considered: The Red Shark had sailed; Jin was committed; the Americans could do nothing that would affect their plans. It was far too late for that.

Scott arrived at the train station certain that it had been Tokugawa’s men who had killed Higashi and snatched Fumiko. If he could find her and free her and not get himself killed in the bargain, it would force the JDIH to have Tokugawa arrested. He felt the vise tighten.