“I am not a fool, John. My daughter is an attractive woman. What do you hope to achieve by helping her? You must have an agenda.”

Milton shrugged. “I don’t. Do I think she’s attractive? Yes—I do. Has that influenced my wanting to help her? No—it hasn’t. She needed me. I think she still needs me. And I would have helped her regardless of what she looks like.”

“And so when this is done? What? You will walk away from her?”

“I don’t know,” he said, thinking back to what she had asked him.

Hachirō watched him, his eyes still cold. Milton looked down and noticed a tattoo that was just visible above the collar of his shirt. Not enough of it was visible for him to be able to say what it was, but Milton guessed that there were other tattoos across the older man’s body. Hachirō noticed that Milton had seen the tattoo and, without speaking, he reached up and undid the top two buttons of his shirt, then opened it just enough for Milton to see a koi carp that leapt from an azure-blue pool to the side of a snake’s tail. The serpent was wound around a cherry blossom tree.

“You know what this means?”

“You were yakuza. I know—she told me.”

“Takashi is not to be trifled with—and neither am I. Let me ask you a question—your job solving ‘problems’: did it occasion you to kill?”

“It did.”

Hachirō nodded. “I thought so. I have, too. Many years ago, but you should be in no doubt that I will kill again if that is what I need to do to protect my daughter and my grandson. Do you understand?”

Milton held Hachirō’s eye and nodded. It was a shot across the bow, and Milton understood why he had seen it necessary to deliver it. He suspected, too, that they were the words of a father who was ashamed that he had abandoned his daughter, and was determined to atone for his absence in her life. Perhaps he blamed himself for what had happened to her. Milton knew all about blame and could see that the old man held himself responsible for the situation in which Sakura had found herself.

“I understand,” Milton said.

79

The tiny restaurant became full to capacity and, with more people pressed into the restricted space, it became loud and stuffy. Hachirō suggested that they go for a walk to continue their discussion. Milton would have preferred to stay off the street, but persuaded himself that the chance of them being seen and recognised in a busy district like this was minimal.

They wandered until they reached Fukagawa Park and found a bench that overlooked the Fudōdō temple.

Milton sat down next to Hachirō. “Where can I find Takashi?”

“He owns an apartment block in Sanya. He has the top two floors for himself. He rarely leaves.”