ericlustbader.the ninja-第42部分

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anite；　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　this　very　plain　to　you；　Croaker；'　the　Captain　had　said。　'The　Didion　case　is　a　closed　book。'　He　raised　his　pudgy　hands　in　front　of　his　face；　warding　off　Croaker's　expected　protests。　'I　know；　I　know；　I　put　you　on　it　myself。　But　that　was　when　I　thought　we　could　see　some　quick　results。　Everyone　from　the　mayor　down　was　howling　for　a　quick　arrest。　Then　the　media　jumped　all　over　it；　you　know　what　they　can　do。'　His　hands　came　down；　lying　flat　on　his　desktop。　Croaker　thought　they　looked　like　hams　ripe　for　roasting。　'You　know　as　well　as　I　do　the　kind　of　people　who　live　at　the　Actium　House。　People　like　Cardin　and　Calvin　Klein　don't　like　that　kind　of　thing　happening　where　they　live。　There　was　an　awful　lot　of　pressure。'
　Croaker　closed　his　eyes　for　a　moment；　counting　slowly；　one…Mississippi；　two…Mississippi；　just　as　he　had　done　when　playing　football　on　the　streets　of　Manhattan's　Hell's　Kitchen　when　he　was　a　kid。　It　was　either　that　or　belt　Finnigan　on　his　fat　red　nose。　His　eyes　snapped　open；　they　saw　the　Captain　leaning　back　in　his　high…backed　chair；　his　hands；　fingers　interlaced；　sitting　atop　his　ample　stomach。　Croaker　wondered　how　many　whiskies　the　old　man　had　already　downed。　Inadvertently；　he　glanced　at　the　spot　where　the　lower　right…hand　drawer　was；　where　the　bottle　always　lay　within　easy　reach。　His　gaze　swung　back　to　Finnigan's　red…veined　face。　His　eyes　seemed　even　more　faded　in　the　soft　early　morning　light　filtering　through　the　closed　shades。　Outside；　the　towers　of　lower　Manhattan　rose　like　blocky　giants。
　'I　know　all　about　that　pressure；　Captain。'　His　tone　revealed　none　of　his　hidden　emotion。　'I've　lived　with　that　ever　since　I　joined　the　force　ten　years　ago。　What　I　don't　understand　is　this　sudden　switch；　this　about…face。'
　'You　weren't　getting　anywhere；'　Finnigan　said　equably。　'I　pulled　the　plug；　that's　all。'
　'Bull！　That's　a　load　of…'
　'Don't　start　this　with　me；　Lieutenant。'　Finnigan's　eyes　blazed　and　a　thin　line　of　spittle　glistened　on　his　protruding　lower　lip。　'I'm　in　no　mood　for　any　of　your　grandstanding。'　He　sat　up；　leaning　forward；　and　now　his　small　eyes　seemed　mean　and　bitter　and　altogether　merciless。　'You　may　enjoy　a　great　reputation　with　the　press。　I　allow　that　because　it's　good　for　the　department　as　a　whole；　the　public　responds　well　to　one　name；　one　face。　But　don't　you　ever　think　that　that　gives　you　any　special　privileges　in　here　or　out　there。'　His　enormous　thumb　hooked　back　over　his　shoulder；　indicating　the　streets　of　the　city。　'I'm　onto　your　little　game　and　it　gets　no　points　with　me。　You　love　that　attention；　the　media　play。　You　eat　it　up　like　a　glutton。　But　that's　okay；　that　I　can　handle。　What　I　won't　tolerate　is　you　treating　me　as　if　I'm　some　kind　of　idiot；　some　kind　of　moral　defective。'　He　saw　the　look　on　the　other's　face；　jumped　on　it。　'Yeah；　that's　right：　moral　defective。　You　been　on　the　force　more　than　long　enough　to　know　the　reason　why　some　investigation　or　other　gets　snuffed。　Someone　high　up　〃requested〃　it。　Okay？　So　now　I've　spelled　it　out　for　you。'　His　face　was　red　now　and　the　wattles　beside　his　mouth　were　quivering。　'Believe　me；　I　have　tho