Wada felt certain Morrisette’s confidence wouldn’t survive first contact with a corporate lawyer at Nishizaki HQ. Maybe that would be the moment when Wada could persuade her to take more drastic action, such as implementing her threat to involve the media. As they’d talked, an idea had formed in Wada’s mind about how to exploit Morrisette’s outrage at what had been done to her. So, yes, she would be happy to come back later.

Morrisette went back into the dining room, retrieved the memory stick and handed it to her. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ve downloaded everything and I’ll back it up on a stick of my own. This evidence isn’t going to disappear. I play for keeps.’

TWENTY-FOUR

MOST OF THE students were away for easter, but swarms of tourists ensured Cambridge was far from quiet. Many were Japanese, so Wada blended in well. She had no interest in King’s College Chapel or Trinity Great Court, but couldn’t help envying those of her fellow countrymen and women who had nothing better to think about than smiling for the camera in front of yet another college.

The envy didn’t cut deep, though. If Wada’s experiences had taught her anything about herself, it was that sightseeing wasn’t her thing. Rest and relaxation weren’t for her. She thrived on purpose. And she had a purpose now.

She headed for the central shopping area and made a beeline for the nearest mobile phone outlet, where she bought a cheap pay-as-you-go model and put a call through to the numbers shown on the card Barry Holgate had insisted on giving her.

He didn’t answer, either on his mobile or the landline. She left a message on both. ‘This is Wada, Mr Holgate. I told you when we met that my name was Takenaga, but actually it is Wada. I have something I think you will find very interesting. Please call me back on this number as soon as possible.’

She sat in a coffee shop waiting for his response. After about half an hour, Holgate called. ‘Mrs Wada, alias Takenaga.’ She’d forgotten the irritating tone of his voice. It was somehow antagonistic and affable at the same time. ‘Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.’

‘Are you quoting Shakespeare, Mr Holgate?’

‘No. The King James Bible. Ecclesiastes eleven. But forget my Sunday school education. What have you been up to? It’s all gone quiet here since you left. Any news of Martin Caldwell?’

There was none Wada had any intention of imparting. Ignoring the question, she said, ‘You told me you still worked freelance as a journalist. Is that true?’

‘Of course. A true hack never retires.’

‘I need to be able to offer someone coverage in a national newspaper.’

‘Who’s the someone?’

‘The source of the story.’

‘And what is the story?’