ericlustbader.the ninja-第42部分

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way。'
　Nicholas　shook　his　head。　'No。　You're　wrong　there。　She　respected　that　in　us。　She　didn't　…　I　suspect　couldn't　…　understand　it。　But　she　recognized　its　power　and　would　not　interfere。　That　was　why　she　always　declined　to　e　when　the　three　of　us　got　together。　She　knew　she　would　be　out　of　her　clement　even　though　we　would　make　every　effort　to　make　her　feel　fortable。　Terry　told　me　once　dial　she　said　she　thought　she'd　only　inhibit　us；　and　she　was　right。〃
　'I　don't　know；'　Vincent　said。　'It　all　seems　so　far　away　to　me　now；　as　if　we　were　talking　about　the　customs　of　Finland。　I'm　not　sure　whether　/　understand　it　any　more。'
　'That's　just　talk　…　so　many　meaningless　words。　The　way　a　Westerner　would　think。　Open　your　mind　and　you'll　still　feel　it。　Being　here　can't　make　it　go　away。'　He　seemed　to　be　telling　himself　as　well　as　Vincent。　'We　were　born　in　the　land　of　the　martial　spirit。　It　binds　us　more　powerfully　…　tunelessly　…　to　one　another　than　a　blood　bond。　What　has　been　taught　us　will　never　leave　us；　you　know　that。　You're　still　the　same　person；　at　the　core；　who　got　off　that　JAL　plane　twelve　years　ago。'
　'Oh　no；　I'm　not。　Not　by　a　long　stretch。　I　don't　talk　the　same；　I　don't　think　the　same　way。　America　has　changed　me　and　the　process　seems　irreversible。　I　can　never　go　back。　I　no　longer　belong　to　Japan　and　I　don't　feel　like　I　belong　here。　The　West　has　taken　something　very　valuable　from　me；　snatched　it　away　while　I　wasn't　looking。'
　'You　can　get　it　back。　It's　not　too　late。'
　Vincent　looked　at　him；　put　his　hands　in　his　pockets　and　walked　on。　They　were　near　the　arch　on　top　of　which　perched　the　famous　clock　that　chimed　in　each　hour　with　a　parade　of　animals　dancing　in　a　semicircle。　Beyond　was　the　Children's　Zoo；　its　bright　laughter　and　clip…clop　of　hastily　running　feet。
　'I　haven't　told　anyone　this；　not　even　the　police。　I　got　a　deadline　call　the　night　Terry　and　Ei　were　murdered。'　He　looked　up。　'But　the　more　I　think　about　it；　the　more　certain　I　am　that　I　did　hear　something；　after　all。　Some　music。'
　'Do　you　remember　what　it　was？'
　'Yeah。　I'm　pretty　sure　it　was　Mancini。'　He　did　not　have　to　add　that　Mancini　was　Eileen's　favourite　poser。
　Vincent　shivered。　'It　was　like　Terry　was　calling　to　me　from　beyond　the　grave。'　He　lifted　a　hand　hastily。　'I　know。　I　know。　I　don't　believe　in　that　kind　of　thing。　But；　damn　it！　It　was　as　if　he　was　trying　to　tell　me　who　did　it。'
　'You　mean　he　knew　the　murderer？'
　Vincent　shrugged。　'Maybe　I'm　making　too　much　out　of　it。　I　don't　know　any　more。　I　just　wish　…　I　wish　you　had　been　in　the　city　that　night；　that's　all。　Christ；　they　were　your　friends；　too！'
　Nicholas　said　nothing；　stared　at　the　smiling　children　eating　ices；　sticking　out　their　patinated　tongues　at　the　solemn　apes。　He　wished　he　felt　something。　Grief　was　a　useful　emotion；　better　that　than　carrying　it　around　with　you　like　a　hump。　He　felt　an　abrupt　stillness　as　if　he　were　at　the　eye　of　a　raging　hurricane。　Safe　and　protected；　he　nevertheless　was　witness　to　the　devastation　going　on　all　around　him。　Was　there　a　way　to　stop　it？　He　knew　a　way；　most　definitely；　but　he　was　reluctant　to　take　it。　Vincent　was　still　looking　at　him；　as　if　by　his　gaze　alone　he　could　wrench　some　confession　from　Nicholas's　bowels。　It　had　to　be　done；　then。　As　he　knew　it　from　the　moment　the　deal　had　been　proposed。　There　was　obligation；　there　was　duty。　Vincent　was　right。　They　were　his　friends。
　Vincent　touched　his　arm。　'Sorry；　old　friend；'　he　said。　'It's　me。　I'm　on　edge。　You　can　see　it。　Jesus；　it's　not　fair　to　take　it　out　on　you。'　He　smiled　thinly。　'You　see　how　Westernized　I've　bee。'
　Nicholas　returned　the　smile　with　more　warmth　than　he　felt。　'No。　You　were　right。　Neither　of　us　has　forgotten　the　importance　of　obligation　and　duty。'
　'Listen；　Croaker's　invited　me　to　dinner。　Why　don't　you　join　us？　At　the　place。'
　'All　right。'　Nicholas　nodded。　Td　like　that。'
　Vincent　glanced　at　his　watch。　'Back　to　the　salt…mines。　See　you　later。'
　Nicholas　searched　through　the　park　for　a　phone；　finally　went　out　on　Fifth　Avenue。　He　called　Justine。　Doc　Deerforth　answered。
　'What's　the　matter？'　Nicholas　said。　His　heart　was　racing。
　'A　slight　accident。　Nothing　to　worry　about。　But　I　think　you　ought　to　e　out　if　your　work　permits。'
　'What　happened？'

　'Justine　was　caught　in　the　undertow。　She's　all　right。'
　'Are　you　certain　that's　what　it　was？'
　'Reasonably。　What　do　you　mean？'
　'Were　there　other　people　around？　Did　anyone　see　anything　suspicious？'
　'There　were　plenty　of　people。　A　neighbour　helped　drag　her　out　of　the　surf。　No　one　mentioned　anything　else。'
　'Can　you　stay　with　her　until　I　get　there？　I'll　take　the　first　train　out。'　He　looked　at　his　watch。
　'Sure。　There's　nothing　pressing。　My　service　knows　where　I　am。　But　if　there's　an　emergency　…'
　'I　understand。　Doc　…　tell　her　I'll　be　there。'
　'When　she　wakes　up。　Don't　worry。'
　He　hung　up　and　hailed　a　cab；　took　it　to　Penn　Station。　Downstairs　at　the　Long　Island　Rail　Road　counter　he　bought　a　ticket；　found　that　he　had　twenty…five　minutes　to　spare。　He　called　Tomkin。　There　was　a　considerable　delay。　He　stared　out　at　the　passing　parade　of　people；　scanning　unconsciously。　A　pair　of　teenagers　struggled　with　enormous　knapsacks　and；　just　behind　them；　a　young　woman　stood　against　a　pillar　waiting　impatiently　to　be　met。　He　wondered　whether　it　was　her　boss　who　was　late。
　'Nicholas？'　The　voice　came　crisply　into　his　car。
　'Tomkin。'
　'I'm　glad　you　called。　Have　you　thought　about　my　offer？'
　Bastard；　he　thought。　Bastard　to　bring　Justine　into　it。　But　now　he　knew　that　Justine　was　a　part　of　it。　He　hated　to　be　in　this　position。　Methodically；　he　calmed　himself。　'I've　thought　about　it。　I'll　start　work　for　you　today。'
　'Good。　Why　don't　you　e　up　to　the　tower　and　…'
　〃No。　I'm　at　Penn　Station。　I'm　taking　the　next　train　out　to　the　Island。'

　〃I　don't　understand　…'
　'There's　work　to　do　out　there。　Justine's　out　there。'
　'I　see。'
　'I'm　sure　you　do；'　Nicholas　said　savagely。　'I'll　be　in　touch　tomorrow。'
　'Nick　…'
　The　voice　was　cut　off　as　he　cradled　the　receiver。
　The　man　was　on　the　job。　He　had　e　to　work　for　Lubin　Bros　over　a　week　ago。　He　had　been　assigned　to　a　construction　site　on　Ralph　Avenue　in　Brooklyn　until　Edwards　had　turned　up　sick　and　he　had　been　transferred　to　the　Park　Avenue　job。　Tomkin　was　paying　extra　to　make　certain　construction　did　not　fall　behind　schedule　and　the　management　of　Lubin　Bros　was　doing　everything　in　its　power　to　keep　things　moving　along。　That　included　making　sure　there　was　always　a　full　plement　of　workers。
　The　man　worked　tirelessly　at　every　assignment　he　was　given。　He　was　a　good　worker　and　spoke　very　little；　no　one　noticed　him。　When　he　reported　that　day；　his　mind　had　been　filled　with　his　work　of　the　night　before：　early　morning；　that　is。　It　was　a　way　of　thinking　about　today's　assignment。　Some　new　wrinkles　were　needed；　and　while　his　forebrain　was　recounting　last　night's　work；　the　subconscious　dissected　the　present　problem。
　It　had　been　no　trouble　at　all　to　gain　access　to　the　Actium　House　sub…basement　parking　lot；　he　had　e　in　the　empty　back　seat　of　a　Lincoln　Continental　which　had　disgorged　its　passengers　at　the　street…level　entrance。　Then　it　had　simply　been　a　matter　of　waiting。
　Tomkin's　limo　had　e　down　the　ramp　at　ten　minutes　past　three　in　the　morning。　He　was　a　notorious　insomniac　and　spent　the　better　part　of　each　weekday　night　in　his　office　at　the　new　building。
　The　powerful　headlights　had　scored　the　roof　of　the　lot；　then　dipped　as　the　limo　came　down　the　last　part　of　the　ramp。　The　motor　thrummed　quietly　in　the　dark　as　the　chauffeur　rolled　it　to　the　parking　space　and　slid　in。　The　motor　died。
　The　man　knew　by　heart　the　next　movements　of　the　chauffeur；　but　even　so　he　waited　a　full　hour　after　the　other　had　left。　Time　was　one　element　that　he　had　plenty　of　now。　It　could　be　the　best　of　friends　or　the　most　implacable　of　enemies；　thus　he　treated　it　with　respect。　It　never　paid　to　be　hasty。
　At　last　he　uncoiled　himself　and　moved　towards　the　limo。　It　was　like　a　shadow　on　the　prowl。　In　seconds　he　had　the　back　door　of　the　car　open　and　closed　again。　Inside；　he　used　a　pencil　flash　and　a　surgeon's　scalpel。　Where　the　plush　carpet　met　the　edge　of　the　rear　seat；　he　scored　a　line　with　the　scalpel。　He　made　a　second　cut　so　that　the　two　were　in　a　T　shape。　Then　he　peeled　back　the　small　flaps　and　inserted　a　round　object　no　more　than　half　an　inch　in　diameter　and；　using　an　odourless　epoxy　resin；　he　closed　the　flaps　carefully。　Next　he　turned　his　attention　to　the　phone。　He　opened　the　box　and；　ignoring　the　receiver；　placed　a　second　disk　on　the　inside　wall　of　the　box。　He　sat　in　the　back　seat　precisely　where　he　knew　Tomkin　sat　and　opened　the　box；　looking　down　at　the　receiver。　He　could　not　see　the　disk。　Satisfied；　he　closed　the　box。　He　turned　off　the　pencil　flash　and　let　himself　out　of　the　limo。　Within　twenty　seconds　he　was　walking　down　Fifty…first　Street；　hunched　over　in　his　black　nylon　windbreaker。　In　all；　he　had　been　in　the　limo　precisely　nine　minutes。
　Now　as　he　worked　on　the　riveting　in　the　atrium　lobby　of　Tomkin　Industries；　the　man　worked　on　the　problem　of　getting　upstairs。
　At　lunchtime　he　took　the　outside　cage　elevator　up　as　far　as　it　would　go；　one　floor　below　Tomkin's　office。　Here　the　hallways　were　still　raw　plaster。　Pencil　marks　were　strewn　about　like　engineering　graffiti。　The　corridors　were　deserted　but　he　was　careful　enough　and　there　were　numerous　doorways　to　plunge　into。　Every　so　often　he　paused　and；　pletely　still；　listened　to　the　sounds　of　the　building。　He　would　know　instantly　if　there　was　the　slightest　change。
　He　was　not　worried　about　his　face。　There　was　flesh…coloured　putty　on　his　cheeks　and　the　bridge　of　his　nose　had　been　built　up。　Treated　cotton　rolls　were　placed　in　his　mouth　between　gums　and　cheek。　Too；　his　posture　had　changed　from　the　man　who　had　entered　Terry　Tanaka's　dojo。　He　had　bee　slightly　stoop…shouldered　arid　he　walked　with　a　noticeable　limp；　as　if　one　leg　were　shorter　than　the　other。　This　was　due　to　an　inch　lift　in　his　right　shoe。　Disguising　one's　face　was　all　well　and　good　but　there　were　a　myriad　ways　one　could　be　identified　by　an　expert。　One　had　to　be　as　meticulous　about　all　parts　of　the　body　as　one　was　about　the　face　…　the　overall　image。　A　disguise　had　to　be　total。　One　needed　only　the　slightest　alterations；　how