“Yes. He doesn’t know the legend.”

“What about where we’re going? Did he tell him?”

“He did,” Victoria said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I should be apologising, not you. This is because of Sakura. Please—tell Jean-Michel I feel awful about it and I hope he’s okay.”

“I will. What are you going to do?”

“I’m not sure. I need to think.”

Victoria told him to be careful and ended the call. Milton stared at the display, lost in thought, until it switched itself off. He had hoped to be able to sail all the way to Tokyo without detection, but that seemed unlikely now. He was going to have to improvise a little.

63

Milton went back into the room and sat down on the bed next to Sakura. He put his hand on her shoulder and gently shook her awake.

“What is it?” she mumbled sleepily.

“I need to ask you something,” he said.

“Come back to bed.”

“Once we’ve spoken.”

She scrunched up her eyes and settled back down against the pillow.

Milton shook her again. “Wake up, Sakura. It’s important.”

She sighed, but, this time, she opened her eyes and raised herself up on her elbow so that she could look up at him. “Is everything okay?”

“The man who you were supposed to meet in Bali. The man Takashi sends to chaperone you—can you describe him?”

“Why?”

“Please.”

She swallowed. “He’s shorter than you, but bigger. Muscular. Dark hair and dark eyes. Cruel eyes.”

“Tattoos?”

She nodded. “All over his body. It’s irezumi—it means inserting ink. It’s a yakuza tradition.”

“Including on his neck?”

She nodded. “A dragon.” She reached up and held her finger against the skin just below her ear. “The tail,” she added, tracing the finger down her neck to her breast. “It runs from his face to here, above his heart. Why?” She stopped, her mouth falling open as she realised the possible reason for the questions. “Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t, but I just heard from Victoria. He threatened Jean-Michel.”

“Oh, God,” she said. “Is he okay?”

There was no need to give her the details. “He’s fine,” he said. “A little shaken up, but nothing to be worried about.”

She slumped back against the mattress. “I knew it. I knew he’d find me.”

“You need to tell me everything about him. What’s his name?”

“Katsuro.”

“Miyasato’s brother?”

She nodded. “He comes to make sure I do what I’m told.”

“But he’s Takashi’s son—why does it have to be him? Surely there’s someone less senior?”

“It was Katsuro’s idea. He insisted.”

“Why? You’re not telling me everything.”

“He thinks…” She stopped, trying to find the words. “He thinks we’re having some sort of relationship. We’re not. I mean—nothing you’d say was normal.”

“I don’t know what that means.”