The Ends of the Earth (35 page)

He shouted at the Dragonfly in Japanese. She responded with cold hauteur, waving her hand at him dismissively. He rounded the table, jabbing his finger at Max and Malory, still shouting. Max was about to stand up and tackle him, but the pressure of Malory’s hand on his forearm kept him where he was.

Silence fell suddenly, broken only by the man’s stertorous breathing. He stared at the Dragonfly and she stared back at him, then he turned on his heel and stalked back into the villa.

‘Please close the door, Mr Greaves,’ the Dragonfly said when he had gone. Max leant out of his chair and pushed it shut. ‘Did you understand any of that, Miss Bowles?’

‘A little,’ Malory replied. ‘He mentioned Count Tomura. He said you should throw us out. And he said that if you didn’t you were …
ki-chigai
. Which means … mad, I think.’

‘Yes. Mad. Maybe I am, to keep him in luxury and tolerate his outbursts. He is not always so ill-mannered. Sometimes he is charming. Sometimes he is even considerate. I would have introduced him if he had given me the chance. Terada Dentaro. He wants to be an actor.’

‘Was he acting just now?’ asked Max.

The Dragonfly smiled wintrily. ‘No. That was all Dentaro.’

‘You were about to name your price when he interrupted us.’

‘Fifty thousand yen.’ She looked at Max frankly. ‘Can you afford it, Mr Greaves?’

‘Yes. I can.’

‘Half today. Half when you have the information.’

‘When will that be?’

‘It can be tomorrow. If you agree to my terms.’

‘What are they?’

‘Dentaro is worried about what Count Tomura will do if he learns I have helped you. He is right to be. There is—’

A crash somewhere in the villa set the panels shaking. The sound came to them of heavily shod feet striking the stones of the path across the garden. Looking round, they saw Terada striding towards the gate.

‘Ah,’ said the Dragonfly. ‘I think he may be going for a walk. That will be good for him.’

‘Your terms, Hashiguchi-san?’ Max prompted.

She smiled at him. ‘You should not be so eager, Mr Greaves. It is bad to look eager in business. Lucky for you I hate Count Tomura enough not to raise my price.’

‘That’s not luck,’ said Malory. ‘That’s why we’re here.’

‘True.’ The Dragonfly acknowledged the point with a courtly bow. ‘So, I—’ She broke off as the throaty roar of an engine rumbled through the still air. ‘Ah, not a walk. The motorcycle.’ The machine growled away. She seemed relieved to know her darling Dentaro had left them to it. ‘I will soothe him later. Now …
Uchi-gawa
. The Inside. The Kansei era was a difficult time in Japan. Tomura Munetada – Count Tomura’s great-grandfather – had many enemies. He wanted a place within his castle where he would be completely safe. Also where he could hold a prisoner beyond the possibility of escape if he needed to do so. My great-grandfather designed and built it for him. And then he was killed. Kansei Ten was the year. 1798, by your reckoning. My grandfather was eight when his father died. He never forgot what happened to him. He kept many papers and other things – left behind by his father. Come. There is something you must see.’

The Dragonfly rose and led the way down from the verandah and round the villa towards the rear. There were several outhouses in this shadier reach of the property. One was built of stone, with narrow, barred windows and a stout iron door.

‘When my grandfather built this villa, he wanted to be sure his father’s records would be safe from fire. They are stored in that building. Hundreds of documents. All the details of all the work he did. And models he made of his designs.’

‘There’s a model of the Inside?’ Max asked urgently.

She nodded. ‘The model is as it really is, but smaller, naturally. It is complete. It is accurate. It is better than any guide. Though you will need a guide – and a better one than any I know – to get into the castle. Only when you have done so will the model be of use to you.’

‘Leave me to worry about that.’

‘Gladly.’

‘The model is ours for fifty thousand yen?’

‘Yes. But this transaction cannot become known to Count Tomura. I must be able to say the model was stolen from me. I will leave the door of the storehouse unlocked tonight. I will say later someone must have opened it. How? A Ninja trick, maybe. Or they picked the lock. Who knows? The models are stored in wooden boxes, identified by labels recording the names of the buildings they matched. The intruder will steal the chest labelled
Zangai-jo
. You cannot read Japanese, of course. That fact will divert suspicion from you, if you escape … with whatever you seek there.’

‘And it
is
a fact, Hashiguchi-san. I can’t read Japanese.’

‘Have you paper?’

Max tore a sheet from the notebook he carried and handed it to her, along with a pencil. He watched the swift and intricate movements of her fingers as she wrote down the symbols. Then she passed the sheet of paper back to him.

‘
Zangai-jo
,’ said the Dragonfly. ‘That is what the label will show.’

‘Won’t there be other labels looking remarkably similar – to the untrained eye?’ said Malory.

‘There will, Miss Bowles. You have a sharp mind. My great-grandfather made many models. Some were built, some not. He worked in many places, though nothing he did was quite as unusual as the installation at Zangai-jo. Naturally, the intruder must be sure to take the right box.’

‘Maybe you could show us where it is,’ said Max.

The Dragonfly frowned at him. ‘And risk you taking it now? Then you may never pay me a sen. Do you think me a fool?’

‘Not at all.’

‘The box you want is on the third shelf up from the floor on the left side as you enter the storehouse. That should be enough for you.’

‘We’ll manage,’ said Max, catching Malory’s eye. Already, he had thought of the surest way to identify the correct box. ‘What if it can’t be done tonight?’

‘I will leave the door unlocked each night until it
is
done. Or you tell me you have changed your mind. Which would be wise. I spoke of a Ninja trick. You will need a great many of those to enter Zangai-jo and leave again unharmed. If you do change your mind …’

‘The twenty-five thousand isn’t refundable.’

The Dragonfly smiled. ‘I see you already understand me, Mr Greaves. That makes doing business with you much easier. The money must be in my account at the Kyoto branch of the Bank of Japan in Sanjo-dori before they close their books this afternoon. It is agreed?’

Max bowed. ‘It is agreed.’

THEY WERE AT
the bank within the hour. It was a grand, Baroque building, replete with dark wood and high ceilings. The staff were unfailingly polite and helpful. Max did not have ¥25,000, but he did have sterling of more than equivalent value. After much stamping of dockets and inscribing of chits, the money was deposited in the account of Hashiguchi Yoko.

They drove back to Seifu-so, to be told Laskaris had rung and left the telephone number of the inn where he was staying. Max called him straight away.

An hour later, Max was striding along a hot and dusty avenue of the park surrounding the old Imperial Palace, heading for the pond at its southern end.

Laskaris was waiting there, as promised, squinting with apparently fixed concentration at a flotilla of carp, while puffing at one of the cigars that were his constant companions.

‘I judge from your expression, Max,’ he said, ‘that your visit to the Dragonfly went well.’

‘We have a deal with her, yes.’ Max at once set out the terms. ‘The model can be in our hands by tomorrow. That, together with Shimizu Junzaburo’s services as guide, will get us into the castle, into the Inside – and out again.’

‘As simple as that?’

‘I never said it would be simple, Viktor. But it’s feasible. Feasible
enough
, I think.’

Laskaris went on studying the carp for a moment, then said, ‘I agree. But I detect in your tone a need to ask rather more of me than I have so far offered.’

‘It’s true. First, there’s the money. I don’t have enough left to fund the entire fifty thousand yen.’

Laskaris chuckled. ‘
Une bagatelle.
I will supply as much as you need.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Is that all?’

‘No. There’s the question of readily identifying the Zangai-jo box.’ Max took out the piece of paper which the Dragonfly had given him and handed it to Laskaris. ‘That’s what appears on the label.’

‘There are many boxes in the storehouse, also labelled?’

‘Yes. She has told me where the one we want is. But even so …’

‘It would be easy for a
gaijin
– a foreigner such as you or I – to become confused and take the wrong box.’

‘The Dragonfly’s told me where to look. But yes, I fear it would.’

‘Show this once to Seddik, however, and he would know it again at a glance.’ Laskaris smiled at Max. ‘That is what has occurred to you, of course.’

‘I confess it has.’

‘When do you plan to do this?’

‘First light tomorrow. There are thick bamboo forests around the villa and there’s cloud coming over. By night, I reckon it’ll be impossibly dark. Just before dawn would be the time.’

‘Yes.’ Laskaris nodded. ‘That would be sensible.’

‘I’ll go with him, of course. I could go alone, but it’ll be quicker and surer if Seddik retrieves the box. And it’ll be a useful rehearsal for our visit to Zangai-jo.’

‘Which will be the night after?’

‘I’ll take advice from the monk, but I imagine so, yes. Schools and the other two will be on their way to San Francisco by then.’

‘And you can leave from Kobe later in the day.’

‘Don’t you mean
we
can leave?’

‘I shall stay, Max. This will hurt Tomura. But not enough for my purposes.’

‘As you please.’

‘It’s settled, then. Seddik will go with you tonight.’

‘Shouldn’t we ask him first?’

‘My consent is his consent. He will go with you. When will you leave?’

‘Three ack emma.’

‘Ack emma?’

‘Sorry. Buzzers’ slang. From the war.’ Max smiled, as much as anything because of how strangely distant – and how simple – his wartime life now felt to him. ‘Three a.m. From Seifu-so.’

‘He’ll be there.’ Laskaris held up the piece of paper. ‘I’ll keep this for him.’

There was little of Kyoto south of the railway station. The city dribbled out into rice-fields and dusty vistas. The temple of Minami Hongan-ji stood close to the railway tracks, tranquil and rustic on one side, noisy and modern on the other, with trains rumbling past.

Max was not kept waiting long at the gate. The monks of Minami Hongan-ji wore red. Shimizu Junzaburo was instantly identifiable by his orange robe. Max knew he must be in his mid-forties, but he looked younger, with his shaven head and his placid expression. Whatever he had once been, he was armed now with the shield of Buddhist enlightenment. But he could not shrug off his past and the obligations it imposed on him. Nor, clearly, did he intend to try.

‘You are Max,’ he said with a bow.

‘Chiyoko said you would be here.’

‘I am where I have known long I would one day be. The prisoner of Zangai-jo is not forgotten.’

‘You know who she is – and what she is to me?’

‘Yes. Also what she was to Jack Farngold.’

‘You agreed to help him.’

‘Yes. Then he went to Chosen to learn the secret of
Uchi-gawa
. But he did not return.’

‘The Dragonfly betrayed him. Tomura held him captive, before killing him. He died nine days ago, in Tokyo.’

‘I am sorry for him. Also for his sister. And for you. Man does not live to strive and suffer. There is a higher path.’

‘And I’ll happily tread it once I’ve set my mother free.’

Junzaburo’s large, lambent eyes seemed to look into Max’s very soul. ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘You are a warrior. You will not turn away. Even if there is no enemy left to fight. I will pray I am wrong.’ He smiled beneficently. ‘But I am not.’

‘You’ll lead us into the castle?’

‘I will. But I cannot fight for her, Max. I cannot kill. That is behind me.’

‘I’m not asking you to fight.’

‘You have what Jack Farngold sought from the Dragonfly?’

‘I will have, by tomorrow. A model of the Inside, made by the man who designed and constructed it.’

‘I have never been there. Few who served Tomura were ever allowed to go there. But I know where it is. I will lead you as far as its entrance. Then …’

‘We’re on our own?’

‘How many will you be?’

‘Two.’

‘The other?’

‘Is highly gifted.’

‘But not a warrior?’

‘Not in the sense you mean.’

‘Maybe that is best. Maybe you will succeed. I will pray you do.’

‘Malory—’

‘I cannot speak of her.’ For the first time, Junzaburo’s composure faltered. ‘I wish her everything good. But I am still not strong enough in my heart to hear her voice or know what she thinks. You understand?’

Max nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘When shall we do this, Max?’

‘Tomorrow night.’

Junzaburo gazed up at the sky, in which clouds were building, and appeared to speak, though no words were audible. Then he looked at Max and said, ‘We must be in the hills by early evening. It is an hour’s climb from the nearest road. We should pass the night in the tunnel and enter the castle at dawn.’