Barry Eisler - The Last Assassin

A long moment passed. Kanezaki said, 'No.'

Damn, I thought that in the heat of the moment Dox's 'spontaneous' request would slide right past him. Apparently not.

No one said anything for a long time. I waited, thinking Kanezaki might crack.

He didn't. Part of me was impressed. In just a few short years he had really matured. I wondered if it was Tatsu's influence.

Finally I said, 'What do you mean, "no"?' And even as I said it, I knew that in speaking first I had ceded him the advantage.

'I mean, if you want to keep the existing gear and have me outfit you on top of it, you're going to owe me something more than just information in return.'

I looked at him, but he didn't blink. He knew that right now I needed him more than he needed me. It didn't feel good, but there was nothing I could do about it.

I closed my eyes and nodded. 'Deal,' I said.

Kanezaki came through with the hardware as promised, handing it off to us in a golf bag the next morning on a moving Yamanote line train. This time I gave him my local mobile number. He already had a decent idea of what we were up to, and, if he learned anything useful, I wanted him to be able to reach us.

Dox and I took the golf bag back to the van. I drove while he sat in back, examining the equipment.

'Hoo-ah, Christmas came early this year,' he said.

'What have you got?'

'The M40A3 I asked for, plus an AN/PVS 10 Day/ Night scope, Ops Inc. suppressor, and a hundred rounds of M118LR 7.62 ammunition. Fun for me and doom for the bad guys.'

'Good. Tatsu is putting together a target list for us. Should be ready soon.'

Tatsu called me that afternoon and I went to see him at the hospital. The bodyguard let me in. Tatsu was alone.

'You've got the list?' I asked him.

'I have it. But I think you'll want to hold off until Saturday.'

Christ, he sounded weak. I almost asked him how he was, but that would have irritated him. Besides, I already knew the answer.

'What's going on?' I said.

'The sumos came in. Yamaoto killed them.'

'Shit.'

'No,' he said, his voice low and raspy, 'it's a good thing. A man called Big Liu, the head of United Bamboo, is coming to Tokyo on Saturday to meet Yamaoto, to try to straighten out the rest of it. Liu is staying at the Grand Hyatt in Roppongi Hills. The meeting is at a club called Whispers in Nishi-Azabu, run by a man called Kuromachi, Kuro, who's as close to a right-hand man as Yamaoto permits.'

'You got this from the informer?' I asked.

He nodded.

'If you've got such a solid insider, why haven't you used him to set up Yamaoto before?'

'I haven't had you to turn to, for one thing. For another, the informant is more afraid of Yamaoto than he is of me. There's always a delicate balance in these matters. If I push too hard, I could lose him entirely. And I'm pushing very hard right now.'

'All right. You're saying if we hit the yakuza before the meeting…'

'It could cause the meeting to be canceled. We would lose an unexpected opportunity to remove Yamaoto directly.'

I thought for a minute. 'What do you know about this club? Can I get to Yamaoto there?'

'I don't know. I don't know the layout, and my informant is being difficult. He suspects that I used his information about the delivery in Wajima to set up the hit on the Chinese and the sumos. Yamaoto believes that was an inside job, and wants to find the man responsible. The informer is afraid. I don't know how much more I can get from him about the meeting.'

I considered. We might be able to get Dox positioned on a rooftop, or maybe in the van. Maybe we could drop Yamaoto with the M40A3 as he moved from his car into the club, or on his way out.

But that was nothing to count on. If Yamaoto was as paranoid now as Tatsu claimed, I expected the car would pull right up to the entrance and Yamaoto would be exposed too briefly, if at all, for Dox to take a reliable shot. We could set it up, of course, but if it failed we would need a way in.

'Can you get me a floor plan for the club?' I asked. 'I assume they're filed with the department of public safety, the fire department, something like that.'

'Of course.'

'What about electricity? Do you have people who could shut the power down on the club's block at the right moment?'

'Yes.'

It was a good start. But I realized we would need more than just the plans. A floor plan couldn't tell us where the principals were seated, whether there were bodyguards nearby, or a dozen other things we'd have to know in advance. For all that, we'd need a man inside.

'Tell me everything you know about the club,' I said. 'I assume it's a high-class place?'

'Very. As you know, most of the really high-end clubs are in Ginza and Akasaka, where the hostesses are Japanese girls not available on a cash basis.'

'Right.'

'Then there are the lower-end establishments, more likely to be found in Ikebukuro and Shinjuku, which are staffed by women from China, the Philippines, and other such foreign locales, who can be rented for a nightly or even hourly fee.'

'Yes, I've heard.'

Tatsu smiled. 'Kuro's place is, to a certain way of thinking, the best of both worlds. Its hostesses are from all over the world: Japan, elsewhere in Asia, the Middle East, Africa, Europe, the Americas. They're all beautiful, and all available.'

'How is Kuro able to…'

'By making the system profitable enough so that everyone wants to play. The rules are simple. When a customer comes in, the girls discreetly signal the Mama-san their price for a night with that customer. If the man is young and attractive, the price might be low – say, five hundred thousand yen. But if the customer is decrepit and repulsive, the price might be two million yen, or more.'

If the yen equivalent of upwards of four thousand dollars was 'low,' and some customers were spending four or five times that for a single night's pleasure, Kuro must have found a way to appeal to an awfully well-heeled clientele.

'If a customer sees a girl he likes,' Tatsu went on, 'he can ask what it would cost to leave the club with her. If he is willing to pay her price, she's his for the evening. If not, he can ask about someone else.'

'How much do the girls get to keep?'

'Whatever they charge.'

'If they keep what they charge, where's Kuro's profit?'

'There's a fifty-million-yen joining fee and five million yen a year membership fees after that.'

'Fifty million?' I asked. That was well over four hundred thousand dollars.

'Yes.'

'Well, that ought to keep out the hoi polloi.'

He shrugged. 'Luxury has gone mass market. The super-rich have to find ways to distinguish themselves. I read about a new sports car that just came out, the Bugatti Veyron. It costs over a million dollars.'

'Yeah, I just put in my order for two.'

He laughed, but the laugh became a cough. He fitted the oxygen tube under his nose and breathed for a moment, then said, 'There are already several owners in Tokyo, you know, and many more on the waiting list. Men who can afford a car like that aren't put off by outrageous club fees. They welcome them, as a sign of status.'

He took a sip of water. 'But there's an important collateral benefit beyond the direct profit: the deals brokered with the politicians, businessmen, and crime bosses who are entertained there as guests. United Bamboo, for example. Yamaoto and Big Liu closed their methamphetamine arrangement at the club.'

'That's why they're meeting there again? Auspicious location?'

'Apparently Big Liu enjoyed himself greatly. He seems to have a predilection for blondes.'

Blondes. My notion of whom we might turn to as a 'man' inside sharpened. But there was no way Delilah was going to agree to this. And I didn't see how I could ask her.