End of Enemies

33

Thirteen sleepless hours later, a taxi dropped them back at the Royal Palms Hotel. There was a message waiting for Tanner. He handed it to Cahil.

“Wonder what the good inspector Ieyasu wants,” Bear said.

“I’ll call and arrange a meeting.”

Cahil yawned. “Make it a couple hours, huh?”

Before leaving to meet Ieyasu, Tanner called Holystone to check in, the first time since discovering Toshogu. Oaken listened while Tanner told the story.

“Good God. So are you thawed out?” Oaken asked.

“I am, but the tips of Bear’s toes are still blue.”

Cahil said, “Better that than my—”

“I get the picture,” said Oaken. “So bottom line is we have a scuttled ship with a murdered crew. Is she reachable?”

“I doubt it,” said Tanner. “She probably stayed afloat long enough to get washed out past the shelf. We’re talking about some deep water.”

“How deep?”

“Five, maybe six thousand feet.”

“Then no salvage operation. My guess is Leland is going to call this the end of the road. We’ve got nothing else solid to follow. Unless…”

“What?”

“I’m working on something. Can you lay low for a day or so? That’ll give me a chance to finish this; if it pans out, we might have something.”

Tanner almost asked why Oaken was going to such trouble, but he knew the answer. Oaken loved a mystery as much as anyone, though his detecting was more the armchair variety. “Thanks, Oaks.”

“You bet. I’ll get back to you.”

Ieyasu stood near the tide line, tossing stones into the surf. Tanner introduced Cahil. “And you are a tourist as well?” Ieyasu asked.

Cahil smiled. “What can I say? I’ve heard good things about your country.”

“My country would be better without people like Hiromasa Takagi.”

“Agreed.”

Tanner led them to a log, and they sat down. “Inspector, it’s time for some truth between us. You know we’re not tourists, and you know Ohira and Sumiko were more than just employees of Takagi Industries.”

“Yes.”

“The U.S. government believes Takagi Industries is involved in illegal arms dealing. Ohira had been trying to help us put a stop to it.”

Again Ieyasu simply nodded, saying nothing.

“Takagi’s involved, that much we know. What we don’t know is, with whom and how. My question to you is, will you continue to help us? Can we trust you?”

Tanner felt naive asking such a question, but the success of espionage ops often came down to the solidity of personal relationships. In a word, trust.

Ieyasu was silent for a minute. “I’ve seen too much to think the world is black and white, and that good and evil obey national borders. I am a patriot, but I am not a fool. So, the answer to your question is, yes, you can trust me. Tell me what you need.”

Tanner briefly outlined Ohira’s interest in Toshogu and their subsequent search for her. He opened his laptop, called up the file into which they had downloaded the digital photos from Alaska, and turned the computer toward Ieyasu.

“There were eleven bodies. This one we know; he’s an engineer who disappeared a few days before Toshogu sailed. According to the records, she sailed with seven crew and a representative from Skulafjord. That’s nine, leaving two unaccounted for… these two here, we believe. I’m hoping you can use some of your contacts to identify them.”

“That is not necessary,” said Ieyasu. “I know these men.”

“From where?”

“In the CIB we had a list similar to your FBI’s Most Wanted. Both of these men are still on that list. They are Rengo Sekigun, Japanese Red Army. Both are wanted in connection to the subway gas attacks. Back then, I was certain they had served as go-betweens for Takagi. Until now, no one had seen them for over eight months. How were they killed?”

Tanner told him.

“Oh, my. Your theory about Takagi is more plausible now. The JRA has strong links to Mideast groups; these two men were well-traveled: Lebanon, Syria, Iran.”

They talked for a few more minutes before Ieyasu stood up. “One more thing I thought you would like to know: Ms. Fujika’s funeral is tomorrow in Totsukawa. As I understand it, Hiromasa Takagi will be attending.” Ieyasu shrugged. “Whatever it is worth.”

Tanner nodded. “Thanks.”

“I will be in touch.” Ieyasu left.

Finally Cahil said, “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about it.”

“I am.”

“Not a good idea, bud.”

“A bad idea, in fact. But I think it’s time we met Hiromasa Takagi face-to-face.”

That something that had been nagging Oaken was a tiny voice shouting, “You missed something!” The answer popped into his head while he was shaving in the Holystone bathroom.

He stopped, razor poised on his cheek. “That’s it.” He wiped his face, ran to his desk and thumbed a stack of folders. It took him only moments to locate the photo he wanted. He grabbed a magnifying glass from the drawer and peered at the corner of the photo. “Bingo.”

Dutcher accepted a cup of coffee from Oaken and pulled up a chair in front of his desk. “I know that look,” Dutcher said. “It’s your ahha face.”

“First, Briggs and Ian called.” In fact, Tanner had called a second time to report Ieyasu’s ID of the two JRA soldiers.

Dutcher raised his eyebrows. “So they found her.”

“Yep.” Oaken related the story. “Eleven bodies, three of them identified; the rest was probably the crew. I’m running the JRA names now.”

“Good. Without the ship, though, we’re spinning our wheels. Does Briggs have any idea why she was scuttled?”

“Not really, aside from it being a very permanent way to dispose of witnesses.”

“And evidence, whatever the hell that might be. We still have no idea what Takagi’s up to.”

“True, but we may be able to find what Tsumago’s been up to. Remember the deck log from the shipyard Briggs photographed? It listed her as having made eight trips in the last six months, each about five days long.”

“Shakedown cruises?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it.” Oaken handed Dutcher one of the photographs. “That’s her helm console. I knew I’d seen the design before. I saw an article on it in Jane’s last year.”

“I assume there’s something special about it.”

Oaken nodded. “It’s going to tell us where she’s been going.”

Sumiko’s home village lay in the mountains, an hour’s drive from Osaka. In a steadily falling rain Tanner and Cahil parked in what appeared to be the village’s central square and got out. Tanner asked directions from a passing woman, and they began walking.

They found the Fujika ancestral shrine sat at the edge of a spruce forest.

A dozen or so mourners surrounded the shrine, which was decorated with small wooden plaques called ema, each a memorial from a family member. Tanner knew many Japanese practiced a blend of both Shinto and Buddhism; this seemed the case with Sumiko’s family, for while the shrine was Shinto, the presiding priest was Buddhist.

“Tell me what’s wrong with this picture,” Cahil whispered.

“I see him.”

Standing a dozen paces away from Sumiko’s family, was Hiromasa Takagi. Tange Noboru stood by his side, sheltering him with an umbrella.

The priest recited a prayer, wafted an incense stick over the shrine, then turned and nodded to the mourners. It was over.

“Some would question your judgment in coming here,” a voice whispered.

Tanner turned and saw Inspector Tanaka standing behind them. Tanner felt rage flood his chest. Tanaka had helped cover up both Ohira’s and Sumiko’s murders, and now here he was at her funeral. As far as Tanner was concerned, he was as guilty as Noboru and Takagi. He took a deep breath and turned his back on the man.

Near the shrine, the mourners were dispersing, except for Takagi, who was speaking quietly to Sumiko’s grandmother. After a moment, she began weeping.

“Inspector, why don’t you introduce us to Mr. Takagi?” Tanner said.

Tanaka laughed softly. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“Introduce us, or I will.”

Tanaka shrugged. “Very well.”

Flanked by Noboru, Takagi stopped in front of them. Up close, Noboru was even more imposing, a bull of a man with huge shoulders and a thick neck. Deadpan, he stared at a spot in the middle of Tanner’s forehead.

Standing this close to Hiromasa Takagi, Briggs could feel the man’s power radiating outward, like a palpable force. He suddenly realized just how dangerous Takagi was. This was a man who could do exactly as he wanted, to whomever he wanted, with near impunity.

Tanaka made the introductions. Takagi bowed stiffly. Briggs countered with an inclination of his head. Takagi accepted the insult with a thin smile. We’re gnats to him. So far, they’d been simply annoying. That was about to change.

“Inspector Tanaka tells me you knew Ms. Fujiko,” Takagi said.

“She was kind enough to show us around Osaka,” Tanner replied.

“And now that you’ve seen my country, what do you think of it?”

“Aside from the crime, it’s beautiful.”

Takagi frowned. “Ah, yes, I see. Mr. Ohira. Terrible thing. Interesting that both the Takagi employees you’ve met have died under mysterious circumstances. Some might call you bad luck.”

“There’s little mystery involved,” Tanner replied. “Ohira was executed by a sniper who escaped in a truck very similar to those you use at your shipyard, and Ms. Fujika was butchered in the parking lot of your headquarters. It’s been three, by the way.”

“Three what?”

“Three Takagi employees I’m aquatinted with. The third was an engineer in your maritime division.”

Takagi’s eyes darted toward Noboru. “And has your bad luck affected him, too?”

“If you call being chained inside a sinking ship and dying of hypothermia bad luck, then I’d say yes.”

Takagi’s face went red. Noboru growled and took a step toward Tanner. Cahil blocked him and shook his head: Bad idea.

“The job was botched,” said Tanner. “She didn’t go down right away. Not to worry, though: The water’s at least a mile deep where she sank. No one will ever reach her, and no one will ever know… except for us, that is.”

Takagi balled his fists. “What are you after, Mr. Tanner?”

“You, Mr. Takagi.”

“A lot of men have tried that.”

Tanner gave a hard smile. “I love a challenge. Plus, I think you’ll find I do business a little differently than you’re used to.”

“We will see.”

“At last something we agree on.” Tanner leaned forward and stared into Takagi’s eyes. “Make no mistake, though,” he whispered. “Whatever it takes, however far I have to go, I’m coming for you.”

“Enough!” Takagi barked. “I suggest you leave Japan, Mr. Tanner!”

Takagi stalked away, drawing Noboru and Tanaka in his wake.

Cahil clapped Tanner on the shoulder. “And yet another Christmas card you won’t be hanging over your mantel.”

Tanner let himself exhale, then smiled. “So many friends, so little mantel.”