Part 42 (1/2)
Lady, he thought, moving pictures were designed to record things that move. That's why they call them ”movies.”
Jack picked up the top envelope, reached inside the open flap, and pulled out a pile of negatives and three-by-five photos. He let the negatives drop back in and checked out the prints.
His stomach turned.
”Oh, jeez.”
Children... naked children... having s.e.x with each other.
He dropped them onto his lap, then picked them up again for a closer look at the little girl.
”Aw, no.”
Alicia... no question about it... seven years old, maybe eight, the face was pudgy, but it was she. And the boy she was with looked about twelve, and he was unquestionably Thomas.
He let his head drop back and closed his eyes. He swallowed hard, afraid he'd lose his morning coffee.
When was the last time he'd cried? He couldn't remember. But he felt like crying now.
That innocent little face looking out at him as her brother...
The sheer monstrousness of it, the utter evil, the mind-numbing rottenness of a soul that could besmirch the innocence of any child like that... but your own daughter... someone who trusts you, looks up to you, depends on you for guidance and protection from the nastiness of the world... to take that trust, that responsibility and do... this this...
Jack had run across the sc.u.m of the earth in his day, but Ronald Clayton took the prize. If he weren't already dead, Jack might consider correcting that situation.
This confirmed what he'd suspected about Alicia. Now he understood why she wanted nothing to do with her father or her brother or that house, why she'd looked ready to jump out of her skin last night.
What a thing to have trailing after you all your life.
”Are they all like this?”
”Yes,” said the gunman.
”Poor Alicia.”
”And these are all that you found?”
”Every last thing.” He sure as h.e.l.l wasn't going to tell him about the weird little Rover, even if it meant nothing.
”You would not lie to me?”
Jack fished the key out of his s.h.i.+rt pocket and tossed it onto the backseat.
”Go back and check yourself.”
The gunman sighed. ”No. That will not be necessary.”
He's as frustrated as I am, Jack thought. And he knows more, d.a.m.n it.
Which gave him a crazy idea.
”All right,” Jack said. ”Tell me what this is all about. What's so G.o.dd.a.m.n important about that house?”
What the h.e.l.l? he thought. Can't shoot me for asking. Can he?
”I do not know.”
”Come on. You've got to know more than me. How come it's a j.a.panese guy against the Arabs and not someone from Mossad? Tell me what you do do know.” know.”
He watched the gunman's eyes as he stared back at Jack.
I'll be d.a.m.ned, Jack thought. I do believe he's going to tell me.
Yos.h.i.+o considered this ronin ronin, this Jack-san.
Tell me what this is all about.
He immediately had dismissed the request as ludicrous. But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether it might be to his advantage to give this man some some information. Not everything, of course, but Jack-san's purposes did seem to run contrary to Muhallal's, and that made him an ally... of sorts. A little information might make him a more irksome nettle against Kemel Muhallal's hide than he already was. information. Not everything, of course, but Jack-san's purposes did seem to run contrary to Muhallal's, and that made him an ally... of sorts. A little information might make him a more irksome nettle against Kemel Muhallal's hide than he already was.
Above all, the important thing was to keep the Clayton technology out of Muhallal's hands.
”Very well,” Yos.h.i.+o said. ”I will tell you. From what I have been told, it all began a few months ago with a most happy message to my employer from a trade delegate working with my country's mission to the United Nations.”
”You mean the j.a.panese government, right?”
Yos.h.i.+o hesitated. The answer should be no... but it could be yes... in a way.
What should he reveal? Certainly nothing about his employer. Kaze Group was a corporate ent.i.ty with a shadowy board of directors that produced nothing under that name, yet had a hand in the manufacture of every part that went into every product produced in j.a.pan.
Officially a holding company, Kaze Group had been founded shortly after the war and began buying shares in the companies that were leading the battered nation's economic recovery. As new companies came to the fore, it invested in those. It bought only the best. Kaze Group thrived during the economic booms, but it made good use of down times as well. It vastly increased its holdings during the recent economic slump, taking advantage of the tumbling Nikkei prices to snap up bargains. Through a web of dummy corporations it now owned controlling interest in j.a.pan's ”Big Six” keiretsus keiretsus and most of the major corporations. and most of the major corporations.
Kaze, Yos.h.i.+o thought. The Wind. Such a fitting name. Keiretsus Keiretsus, the giant vertical and horizontal conglomerates that ostensibly ruled j.a.pan's economy, were often compared to icebergs-a very small portion visible, the vast bulk hidden. But what determines the path of icebergs through the sea? The currents. And what dictates the currents? The wind... Kaze.
No, Kaze was not the government, but when Kaze Group spoke-always a discreet whisper directly into the ear-the government listened.
”Yes,” Yos.h.i.+o said. ”That is correct.” Better to let Jack-san believe he worked for the government. ”And this trade minister was most excited. He said he had been contacted by a man who was most surely a messenger from G.o.d Himself, a man whose technology would make”-he stopped himself... he'd almost said Kaze Group-”make j.a.pan first among nations. He claimed that the details were so astounding, so explosive explosive-yes, that was his word-that he did not dare explain the details, even by diplomatic pouch. He said he was bringing this man directly to Tokyo to explain to the board in person.”
”The board?” Jack-san said.
”Yes. The... National Board of Trade. But the plane carrying the trade minister and this mysterious man to j.a.pan exploded in midair, killing all aboard.”
”JAL 27,” Jack-san said.
”Correct.”
Yos.h.i.+o was not surprised he knew. Alicia Clayton must have told him about her father's death.
”But what makes you think this messenger 'from G.o.d Himself' was Ronald Clayton?”
”We know from pa.s.senger records that he was seated next to our trade minister on the flight.”