ericlustbader.the ninja-第37部分

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　'Would　you　care　for　a　drink？'　The　man　beside　him　had　spoken　in　his　manding　voice　but　it　was　blue…business…suit　who　moved；　turning　his　body　part…way　around　on　the　front　seat　so　that　his　left　arm　lay　along　the　velvet　top　like　an　implied　threat。　Nicholas　found　himself　wondering　what　had　happened　to　delay　Lieutenant　Croaker。
　'Bacardi　and　bitter　lemon；　if　you　have　it。'　Immediately　the　blue　business　suit　opened　a　small　door　in　the　centre　of　the　front　seat。　Nicholas　heard　the　clink　of　ice　against　glass。　He　remained　calm；　though　he　still　had　no　idea　who　these　people　were。　He　wanted　to　keep　the　man　talking。　The　longer　he　did　that；　the　sooner　he　would　know　who　he　was。
　'You　don't　look　much　like　your　photographs；'　the　man　said　almost　disgustedly。
　As　blue…suit　stretched　to　pour　the　rum；　Nicholas　caught　a　glimpse　of　the　butt　of　a　revolver　slung　with　a　chamois　holster　under　the　man's　right　armpit。　He　turned　his　gaze　away；　to　the　city　outside。　It　seemed　a　thousand　miles　away。　'That's　perfectly　understandable；'　he　said。　'I've　never　taken　a　good　picture；　not　to　my　knowledge；　anyway。'
　'Your　drink；'　the　man　in　the　dark　blue　suit　said。
　Nicholas　reached　forward　through　the　open　partition　and；　as　he　did　so；　he　saw　from　certain　minute　changes　in　the　other　precisely　what　was　ing。　Curious；　he　allowed　it　to　happen。　As　soon　as　his　hand　was　through　the　partition；　the　man　lifted　the　drink　away　and　grabbed　at　Nicholas's　wrist　with　his　other　hand。　It　was　a　very　swift　motion　yet；　from　Nicholas's　point　of　view；　slow　and　clumsy。　He　could　have　counteracted　it　in　any　number　of　different　ways。　Instead；　he　watched　passively　as　the　other　gripped　his　wrist；　exerting　pressure　to　turn　the　hand　over。　The　man　peered　closely　at　the　edge　of　Nicholas's　hand；　which　was　as　hard　and　calloused　as　horn。　The　man　lifted　his　gaze；　nodded　to　the　man　beside　Nicholas；　then　handed　Nicholas　his　drink。
　Nicholas　sipped　at　the　Bacardi　and　bitter　lemon；　found　it　quite　good。　Swallowing；　he　said；　'Are　you　satisfied？'
　'As　to　your　identity；〃　said　the　man　beside　him；　'yes。'
　'You　know　more　about　me　than　I　do　about　you；'　Nicholas　observed。
　The　man　shrugged。　〃That　is　as　it　should　be。'
　'By　your　standards　perhaps。'　No　one　wore　sunglasses　or　any　kind　of　glasses；　for　that　matter；　no　one　smoked。
　'Those　are　the　only　standards　that　count；　Mr　Linnear。〃
　'Mind　if　I　light　up？'　Nicholas's　right　hand　moved　towards　his　trouser　pocket　and；　at　the　same　time；　blue…suit's　left　arm　stiffened；　moving。　He　shook　his　head　from　side　to　side。
　'You　don't　want　to　do　that；　Mr　Linnear；'　said　the　man　beside　him。　'You　gave　up　smoking　more　than　six　months　ago。'　He　grunted。　'Just　as　well。　Those　black…tobaccoed　cigarettes　are　certain　killers。'
　Nicholas　was　impressed　by　the　depth　of　their　information　on　him。　Whoever　this　man　was；　he　was　not　an　amateur。
　'Did　you　know；　Mr　Linnear；　that　an　accumulation　of　high…nicotine　smoke　can　destroy　the　taste　buds？'　He　nodded　as　if　this　statement　needed　physical　confirmation。　'It's　quite　true。　A　group　at　the　University　of　North　Carolina　pleted　the　study。'　He　smiled。　'Ironic；　isn't　it？　The　campus　is　virtually　surrounded　by　tobacco　fields。'
　'I've　never　heard　of　that　study；'　Nicholas　said。
　'Well；　of　course　you　haven't。　The　results　are　quite　secret　at　the　moment。　They're　being　timed　for　release　during　the　annual　tobacco　growers'　convention　in　Dallas　next　October。〃
　'You　seem　to　know　a　great　deal　about　this　study。'
　'I　should；〃　the　man　said；　laughing。　'It　was　funded　with　my　money。〃　He　turned　his　head　away；　letting　that　sink　in　for　several　moments。
　'How　much　do　you　really　know　about　me？'　Nicholas　prompted。　He　was　almost　certain　now；　the　face　remained　vaguely　familiar；　at　least　parts　of　it。
　The　man　swung　around；　impaling　him　on　an　icy　stare。　'Enough　to　want　to　talk　to　you　face　to　face。'
　It　was　the　piece　he　needed。　'I　didn't　recognize　you　at　first；'　Nicholas　said。　Td　never　seen　you　without　the　beard。〃
　The　man　smiled；　rubbed　at　his　clean…shaven　chin。　'It　does　make　quite　a　difference；　I'll　admit。'　Then　his　face　lost　all　its　warmth　and　it　seemed　as　if　the　flesh　were　carved　out　of　granite；　the　difference　was　appalling。　'What　do　you　want　with　my　daughter；　Mr　Linnear？'　His　voice　was　like　the　crack　of　a　whip。　Nicholas　wondered　what　it　would　be　like　growing　up　under　that　fierce　domination；　he　did　not　envy　Justine。
　'What　does　any　man　want　with　a　woman？'　he　said。　'Only　that；　Mr　Tomkin。　Nothing　more。'
　Out　of　the　corner　of　his　eye　he　felt　the　movement　of　blue…suit　even　before　it　came　into　his　line　of　vision。　He　relaxed；　now　was　not　the　time。　The　big　beefy　hands　were　at　his　shirtfront。　Some　of　the　drink　slopped　over　the　side　of　the　glass；　ran　down　his　trouser　leg；　Nicholas　supposed　that　this　man　would　have　little　trouble　in　picking　up　his　side　of　a　grand　piano。　While　the　man　held　him　from　in　front；　Tomkin　leaned　over。　That's　not　very　smart；'　he　said。　His　tone　had　changed　again；　as　quickly　and　pletely　as　a　chameleon　switches　colour。　It　was　now　steel　covered　thinly　by　velvet。　'In　any　event；　Justine　is　no　ordinary　woman。　She's　my　daughter。'
　'Is　this　how　you　handled　Chris　in　San　Francisco？'　Nicholas　said。
　Tomkin　was　quite　still　for　a　moment；　it　was　a　breathless　time。　Then；　without　turning　his　head　from　Nicholas；　he　made　a　small　gesture　and　blue…suit　let　go　his　grip。　Without　a　backward　glance　he　pulled　himself　into　the　front　of　the　limo　and　closed　the　partition。　He　turned　to　look　through　the　windshield。
　'So　that's　how　it　is；'　Tomkin　said　when　they　were　alone。　'Interesting。'　He　eyed　Nicholas。　'My　daughter　must　like　you。'　Then　his　tone　turned　acid。　'Either　that　or　you're　a　hell　of　a　good　lay。　She　hasn't　been　with　any　man　for　more　than　two　hours　since　I　brought　her　back。　That's　a　long　time　for　a　girl　of　her　age。'　Then；　as　an　afterthought；　he　said；　'She's　got　problems。'
　'Everyone's　got　problems；　Mr　Tomkin；'　Nicholas　said　drily。　'Even　you。'　As　soon　as　he　had　said　it；　he　regretted　opening　his　mouth。　His　anger　had　caused　that：　not　a　good　sign。
　Tomkin　sat　back；　sinking　into　the　cushions。　He　squinted　at　Nicholas。　'You're　an　odd　one。　I　do　a　hell　of　a　lot　of　business　with　the　Japs；　even　go　over　there　three；　four　times　a　year。
　Never　met　anyone　there　like　you。'
　'I　imagine　that's　a　pliment。'
　Tomkin　shrugged。　'Take　it　any　way　you　like。'　He　leaned　forward；　depressed　a　hidden　stud；　and　a　small　desk　swivelled　out　on　his　side；　plete　with　a　miniature　gooseneck　lamp。　Behind　the　desk　was　an　accordion　partment　built　into　the　seat。　Tomkin　dipped　a　hand　into　this；　extracted　a　sheet　of　paper。　It　was　folded　once　across　its　width。　He　handed　it　to　Nicholas。　'Here；'　he　said；　'what　do　you　make　of　this？'
　It　was　a　sheet　of　Japanese　rice　paper；　very　fine。　Nicholas　unfolded　it　carefully。　On　it　was　a　symbol；　brushed　on　the　centre　with　black　ink。　There　were　nine'small　diamonds　surrounding　a　large　circle　like　satellites　about　a　sun。　Inside　the　centre　circle　was　the　Japanese　ideogram　for　tymuso；　the　beggar…ascetic。
　'Well？'　Tomkin　demanded。　'Do　you　know　what　it　is？'
　'Tell　me　how　you　got　this。'　Nicholas　lifted　his　gaze　from　the　crest；　saw　that　those　cold　blue　eyes　were　clouded　with　a　kind　of　held…in　anxiety。
　'It　came　in　the　pouch。'　And　when　he　saw　Nicholas　looking　at　him　unprehendingly；　he　added；　somewhat　irritably；　'The　pouch　from　Japan。　Each　of　our　foreign　offices　has　a　daily　pouch　for　important　messages；　when　phones　are　inconvenient　or　insufficient　for　relaying　data。　At　first　I　thought　it　was　some　kind　of　a　joke　but　now　。。。〃　He　shrugged。　'Tell　me　what　it　is。'
　'It's　a　crest；'　Nicholas　said　simply。　He　handed　the　sheet　back　to　Tomkin；　but　he　would　not　take　it　so　Nicholas　slid　it　onto　the　desk。　'A　crest　for　a　ninja　ryu　…　a　school。'　He　took　a　deep　breath；　weighing　his　next　words　carefully；　but　before　he　could　open　his　mouth　Tomkin　was　hammering　at　the　smoked…glass　partition。　Blue…suit　turned　his　head　and　a　part　of　the　glass　opened。　'Frank；　I　want　to　go　to　the　tower。'
　'But；　Mr　Tomkin　…'
　'Now；　Frank。'
　Frank　nodded；　closed　the　partition。　Nicholas　could　see　him　talking　to　the　driver。　The　limo　turned　at　the　next　corner；　heading　east。　When　they　came　to　Park　Avenue　South；　they　made　a　left；　headed　north。
　Next　to　Nicholas；　Tomkin　eyed　the　folded　rice　paper　as　if　something　inside　it　had　e　to　startling　life。
　Detective　Lieutenant　Croaker　was　not　happy　as　he　left　Captain　Finnigan's　office　early　that　morning。　In　point　of　fact　he　was　on　the　verge　of　boiling　over。　He　strode　down　the　fluorescent…lighted　corridor；　crowded　with　officers　and　clerks；　in　long　athletic　strides。
　'Hey；　Lew；　wait　till　I　…'　But　Croaker　had　already　brushed　past　the　sergeant　without　noticing　him　and　the　man　shrugged；　turned　away。　Croaker　could　be　like　that　sometimes　and　it　was　best　then　to　stay　out　of　his　way。
　Reaching　his　frosted…glass…fronted　office；　Croaker　swung　in　and　pounded　his　fists　against　the　laminated　Formica　desktop。　Many　was　the　time　he　had　tried　to　burn　holes　in　the　thing　with　the　end　of　his　cigarette。　To　no　avail。　That　was　modern　science　for　you。
　He　crashed　down　into　the　dark　green　swivel　chair。　He　stared　fixedly　at　the　frosted…glass　partition　but　what　he　was　really　seeing　was　Finnigan's　fat　mick　face；　those　soft　dewy　blue　eyes　staring　up　at　him　blankly。
　'I　want　to　make