Hachirō nodded at the glove box of the van.

Milton opened it, reached inside and took out an object wrapped in a dirty rag. He unfolded the rag to reveal a Glock 23. It was a little over seven inches long, nice and compact. He turned the gun over in his hand, feeling the weight of it, before popping out the magazine and pulling the slide back. He pressed the rounds out of the magazine and dropped them into his pocket before replacing the magazine.

“Any problems?”

“No.”

Milton had asked whether Hachirō would be able to find a weapon. The old man had said that he could, and Milton had not probed for any other information. He suspected that he still maintained contacts with the underworld. The weapon’s serial number had been filed off; Milton did not intend to fire it, especially given he had no idea in which crimes it had been used before.

Milton put the gun away.

“What about the masks?”

Hachirō reached down and passed over a plastic carrier bag. There was a half-length menpō mask inside. It was of a design that would have been worn by a samurai, intended to protect the face while also intimidating the enemy. This one had a dark russet finish, a bulbous nose and extravagantly arched eyebrows.

“You have one, too?”

Hachirō nodded.

“The cable ties?”

“In the bag.”

Milton reached in again and took out a bunch of plastic cable ties, still with the price tag attached.

“Good,” Milton said. “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” the old man said. “It would be fairer to ask how much I owe you. You still don’t have to do this.”

Milton didn’t answer, and they were both quiet as Hachirō navigated the streets toward Yoyogi Park. It was early, yet the streets of a city as vast as Tokyo were never really quiet.

“It’s not far,” Hachirō said. “You still think we should do it at the park? Outside?”

“Nothing has changed.”

“There might be witnesses.”

“I imagine so.”

“So we go to her apartment, perhaps?”

“Too hard to get her out without being stopped. Did you buy the van with cash?”

“Yes,” Hachirō said.

“And you gave a false name?”

“I did.”

“So it won’t matter if we’re seen. We’ll be out of the way before anyone can stop us. What about the restaurant?”

“It is ready.”

“It’ll be fine,” Milton said. “This is the best way.”

93