mc.risingsun-第49部分

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　I　was　driving　north　toward　the　Wilshire　exit；　to　meet　Senator　Morton。　I　said；　〃Why　is　he　an　asshole？〃
　〃Bob　Richmond　was　the　assistant　trade　negotiator　for　Japan　under　Amanda　Marden　until　last　year。　He　was　privy　to　all　the　strategy　meetings　of　the　American　government。　One　year　later；　he　turns　around　and　starts　working　for　the　Japanese。　Who　now　pay　him　five　hundred　thousand　a　year　plus　bonuses　to　close　this　deal。　And　he's　worth　it；　because　he　knows　everything　there　is　to　know。〃
　〃Is　that　legal？〃
　〃Sure。　It's　standard　procedure。　They　all　do　it。　If　Richmond　worked　for　a　high…tech　pany　like　Microsoft；　he'd　have　to　sign　an　agreement　that　he　wouldn't　work　for　a　peting　pany　for　five　years。　Because　you　shouldn't　be　able　to　peddle　trade　secrets　to　the　opposition。　But　our　government　has　easier　rules。〃
　〃Why　is　he　an　asshole？〃
　〃This　racist　stuff。〃　Connor　snorted。　〃He　knows　better。　Richmond　knows　exactly　what　happened　with　the　Fairchild　sale。　And　it　had　nothing　to　do　with　racism。〃
　〃No？〃
　〃And　there's　another　thing　Richmond　knows：　the　Japanese　are　the　most　racist　people　on　earth。〃
　〃They　are？〃
　〃Absolutely。　In　fact；　when　the　Japanese　diplomats…　〃
　The　car　phone　rang。　I　pushed　the　speaker　button　and　said；　〃Lieutenant　Smith。〃
　Over　the　speaker；　a　man　said；　〃Jesus；　finally。　Where　the　hell　have　you　guys　been？　I　want　to　get　to　sleep。〃
　I　recognized　the　voice：　Fred　Hoffmann；　the　watch　mander　from　the　night　before。
　Connor　said；　〃Thanks　for　getting　back　to　us；　Fred。〃
　〃What　is　it　you　wanted？〃
　〃Well；　I'm　curious；〃　Connor　said；　〃about　the　Nakamoto　calls　you　got　last　night。〃
　〃You　and　everybody　else　in　this　town；〃　Hoffmann　said。　〃I　got　half　the　department　on　my　ass　about　this。　Jim　Olson　is　practically　camping　on　my　desk；　going　through　the　paperwork。　Even　though　it　was　all　routine　at　the　time。〃
　〃If　you'd　just　review　what　happened　。　。　。〃
　〃Sure。　First　thing；　I　got　the　transmittal　from　metro。　That　was　the　original　phone…in。　Metro　wasn't　sure　what　it　meant；　because　the　caller　had　an　Asian　accent　and　sounded　confused。　Or　maybe　on　drugs。　He　kept　talking　about　'problems　with　the　disposition　of　the　body。'　They　couldn't　get　it　clear　what　he　was　talking　about。　Anyway；　I　dispatched　a　black　and　white　about　eight…thirty。　Then　when　they　confirmed　a　homicide；　I　assigned　Tom　Graham　and　Roddy　Merino　…　for　which　I　got　all　kinds　of　shit　later。〃
　〃Uh…huh。〃
　〃But　what　the　hell；　they　were　up　on　the　roster　next。　You　know　we're　supposed　to　stay　in　strict　rotation　for　detective　assignments。　To　avoid　the　appearance　of　special　treatment。　That's　policy。　I　was　just　following　it。〃
　〃Uh…huh。〃
　〃Anyway。　Then　Graham　calls　in　at　nine　o'clock；　and　reports　there's　trouble　at　the　scene；　and　there　is　a　request　for　the　Special　Services　liaison。　Again；　I　check　the　list。　Pete　Smith　is　the　SSO　on　call。　So　I　give　Graham　his　number　at　home。　And　I　guess　he　called　you；　Pete。〃
　〃Yes；〃　I　said。　〃He　did。〃
　〃All　right；〃　Connor　said。　〃What　happened　after　that？〃
　〃About　two　minutes　after　Graham　calls；　maybe　nine　oh…five；　I　get　a　call　from　somebody　with　an　accent。　I　would　say　it　sounds　like　an　Asian　accent；　but　I　don't　know　for　sure。　And　the　guy　says　that　on　behalf　of　Nakamoto　he　is　requesting　Captain　Connor　be　assigned　to　the　case。〃
　〃The　caller　didn't　identify　himself？〃
　〃Sure　he　did。　I　made　him　identify　himself。　And　I　wrote　down　the　name。　Koichi　Nishi。〃
　〃And　he　was　from　Nakamoto？〃
　〃That's　what　he　said；〃　Hoffmann　said。　〃I'm　just　sitting　there；　working　the　phone；　what　the　hell　do　I　know。　I　mean；　this　morning　Nakamoto　is　formally　protesting　the　fact　that　Connor　was　assigned　to　the　case　and　saying　they　have　nobody　named　Koichi　Nishi　employed　by　them。　They're　claiming　it's　all　a　fabrication。　But　let　me　tell　you；　somebody　called　me。　I'm　not　making　it　up。〃
　〃I'm　sure　you're　not；〃　Connor　said。　〃You　say　the　caller　had　an　accent？〃
　〃Yeah。　His　English　was　pretty　good；　you　know；　almost　hip；　but　there　was　a　definite　accent。　The　only　thing　I　thought　was　funny　was　that　he　seemed　to　know　a　hell　of　a　lot　about　you。
　〃Oh？〃
　〃Yeah。　First　thing　he　says　to　me；　do　I　know　your　phone　number　or　should　he　give　it　to　me。　I　say　I　know　the　number。　I'm　thinking；　I　don't　need　some　Japanese　to　tell　me　the　phone　numbers　of　people　on　the　force。　Then　he　says；　you　know；　Captain　Connor　doesn't　always　answer　his　phone。　Be　sure　to　send　somebody　down　there　to　pick　him　up。〃
　〃Interesting；〃　Connor　said。
　〃So　I　called　Pete　Smith；　and　told　him　to　swing　by　and　pick　you　up。　And　that's　all　I　knew。　I　mean；　this　is　all　in　the　context　of　some　political　problem　they're　having　at　Nakamoto。　I　knew　Graham　was　unhappy。　I　figured　other　people　were　unhappy；　too。　And　everybody　knows　Connor　has　special　relationships　with　the　munity；　so　I　put　it　through。　And　now　there　is　all　this　shit　ing　down。　Fucking　beats　me。〃
　〃Tell　me　about　the　shit；〃　Connor　said。
　〃It　starts　maybe　eleven　o'clock　last　night；　when　the　chief　called　me　about　Graham。　Why　did　I　assign　Graham。　I　tell　him　why。　But　he's　still　not　happy。　Then　right　at　the　end　of　my　watch；　maybe　five　a。m。；　there　is　the　business　about　how　Connor　got　brought　in。　How　did　it　happen；　why　did　it　happen。　And　now　there's　a　story　in　the　Times　and　this　whole　thing　about　racism　by　the　police。　I　don't　know　which　way　to　turn　here。　I　keep　explaining　I　did　the　routine　thing。　By　the　book。　Nobody　is　buying　that。　But　it's　true。〃
　〃I'm　sure　it　is；〃　Connor　said。　〃Just　one　more　thing；　Fred。　Did　you　ever　listen　to　the　original　metro　call？〃
　〃Damn　right　I　did。　I　heard　it　about　an　hour　ago。　Why？〃
　〃Did　the　voice　that　called　in　sound　like　Mr。　Nishi？〃
　Hoffmann　laughed。　〃Christ。　Who　knows；　Captain。　Maybe。　You're　asking　me　if　one　Asian　voice　sounds　like　another　Asian　voice　I　heard　earlier。　Honestly；　I　don't　know。　The　original　voice　on　the　call　sounded　pretty　confused。　Maybe　in　shock。　Maybe　on　drugs。　I'm　not　sure。　All　I　know　is；　whoever　Mr。　Nishi　actually　was；　he　knew　a　hell　of　a　lot　about　you。〃
　〃Well；　that's　very　helpful。　Get　some　rest。〃　Connor　thanked　him；　and　hung　up。　I　pulled　off　the　freeway　and　headed　down　Wilshire；　to　our　meeting　with　Senator　Morton。
　
　？
　〃Okay；　Senator；　now　look　this　way；　please　。　。　。　a　little　more　。　。　。　that's　it；　that's　very　strong；　very　masculine；　I　like　it　a　lot。　Yes；　bloody　good。　Now　I　will　need　three　minutes；　please。〃　The　director；　a　tense　man　wearing　a　bomber　jacket　and　a　baseball　cap；　climbed　down　off　the　camera　and　barked　orders　in　a　British　accent。　〃Jerry；　get　a　scrim　there；　the　sun　is　too　bright。　And　can　we　do　something　about　his　eyes？　I　need　a　little　fill　in　the　eyes；　please。　Ellen？　You　see　the　shine　on　his　right　shoulder。　Flag　it；　love。　Pull　the　collar　smooth。　The　microphone　is　visible　on　his　tie。　And　I　can't　see　the　gray　in　his　hair。　Bring　it　up。　And　straighten　out　the　carpeting　on　the　ground　so　he　doesn't　trip　when　he　walks；　people。　Please。　e　on　now。　We're　losing　our　lovely　light。〃
　Connor　and　I　were　standing　to　one　side；　with　a　cute　production　assistant　named　Debbie　who　held　a　clipboard　across　her　breasts　and　said　meaningfully；　〃The　director　is　Edgar　Lynn。〃
　〃Should　we　recognize　that　name？〃　Connor　said。
　〃He's　the　most　expensive　and　most　sought…after　mercial　director　in　the　world。　He　is　a　great　artist。　Edgar　did　the　fantastic　Apple　1984　mercial；　and　。　。　。　oh；　lots　of　others。　And　he　has　directed　famous　movies；　too。　Edgar　is　just　the　best。〃　She　paused。　〃And　not　too　crazy。　Really。〃
　Across　from　the　camera；　Senator　John　Morton　stood　patiently　while　four　people　fussed　with　his　tie；　his　jacket；　his　hair；　his　makeup。　Morton　was　wearing　a　suit。　He　was　standing　under　a　tree　with　the　rolling　golf　course　and　the　skyscrapers　of　Beverly　Hills　in　the　background。　The　production　crew　had　laid　down　a　strip　of　carpet　for　him　to　walk　on　as　he　approached　the　camera。
　I　said；　〃And　how　is　the　senator？〃
　Debbie　nodded。　〃Pretty　good。　I　think　he　has　a　shot。〃
　Connor　said；　〃You　mean　a　chance　for　the　presidency？〃
　〃Yeah。　Especially　if　Edgar　can　do　his　magic。　I　mean；　let's　face　it；　Senator　Morton　is　not　exactly　Mel　Gibson；　you　know　what　I　mean？　He's　got　a　big　nose；　and　he's　a　little　bald；　and　those　freckles　are　a　problem　because　they　photograph　so　prominently。　They　distract　you　from　his　eyes。　And　the　eyes　are　what