He pushed it open, setting off the tinkling of a bell overhead. Purple curtains hung just inside the door, and Milton parted them and stepped inside.

The restaurant was tiny. Four wooden seats with leather tops were positioned before a counter that looked to have been made from a single piece of blackened oak. There was a fridge to the right and a large tank of water to the left. There was a block of knives on the counter, and traditional Japanese art had been hung on the wall. Openings in the wall behind the counter looked to offer access to the kitchen.

“Hello,” Milton called out.

Hachirō came out from the kitchen, wiping his hands with a cloth that hung from the belt of his trousers.

“Milton-san,” he said.

“Call me John, please.”

“John.”

“This is a nice place.”

“Thank you.”

“I looked online before I came over. Award-winning?”

Hachirō waved a hand dismissively, although Milton could see that he was pleased that it had been brought up. “It is for my saltwater uni,” he said. “Most restaurants that serve sea urchin use preservatives to make sure they keep their shape. Mine are natural. My uni stays as it is because I store it in saltwater that is the same temperature as the ocean. The taste is the same as if it was just fished out of the water.”

Milton sat down on one of the chairs.

Hachirō cocked an eyebrow. “Where is my daughter?”

“At the hotel. I think it’s safer for her there.”

“On her own?”

“No one knows that she’s there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” Milton said. “But your brother is looking for her. We were followed after we left you last night.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid your brother has been watching you. He either has someone at your house, or he’s bugged it, or he has a way to intercept your phone calls. There were two of them. I was trained to notice unwelcome attention when I worked for the government, and these two were obvious.”

“What happened? You’re sure they didn’t follow you to the hotel?”

“Quite sure. I led them in the wrong direction and then I had a little discussion with them. I gave them a message to deliver to your brother. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

Hachirō nodded. “Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Then I will make breakfast and then you can tell me what I need to know. Do you like sushi?”

“Of course,” Milton said. He couldn’t really say no.

“Good.”

Hachirō took a bamboo mat from beneath the counter and spread it out, placing a nori sheet atop it. He moistened his fingers in a bowl of water and took a small ball of sushi rice, layering it over the nori sheet.

“I did a little research this morning,” Milton said.

“Into Furokawa?”

“Yes. He’s not shy about publicity.”