‘Nishizaki is a careful man, Wada. You’ll be searched when you enter the building. So, just in case you see this meeting as an opportunity to take revenge for your husband’s death …’

‘I have said I will try to negotiate with him. That is what I will do.’

‘Good. But be warned. He’s quite capable of telling you one thing and intending to do another. He won’t keep to an agreement simply because he’s said he will. If he accepts my terms, you have to insist on the hostages being released at the same time as I deliver to him the means to access my retirement plan.’

‘How will you make the delivery?’

‘You call me when the deal’s done and I’ll provide the details then: where, when and how.’

‘You will not tell me before?’

‘The less you know of the arrangements I’m going to put in place the better.’

‘In case Nishizaki forces the information out of me shortly before putting a bullet through my head?’

Driscoll pulled up and she stopped as well.

‘You don’t have to do this, Wada-san,’ he said, softly and, she felt, sincerely. ‘I may have exaggerated the risks of refusing to help me. If you run far and fast enough, it’s possible he’ll forget about you.’

‘But I would have to live looking always over my shoulder.’

‘Maybe you could cope with that.’

‘Maybe I do not want such a life.’

‘We can’t always have what we want.’

‘Do you think Nishizaki believes that?’

A few moments passed before Driscoll responded. Then he simply shook his head.

Wada met his gaze decisively. ‘It is time he was made to believe it, I think.’

‘I’ll tell him you’ll be there, then.’

‘Yes. Tomorrow.’

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-FOUR HOURS TO prepare for the meeting with nishizaki was about twenty-three too many, since Wada was already as prepared as she was ever going to be when Driscoll left her outside the entrance of the Lamb Hotel.

She read a couple of chapters of The Makioka Sisters on the train down to London that afternoon. More accurately, her eyes scanned the sentences without transmitting to her brain any of the calm the book normally gave her. Her phone logged several calls from Holgate, seeking news, but she didn’t respond. There was nothing she could safely say to him. She was set on a course of action that was both dangerous and somehow inevitable. Beyond all the doubting and wondering, she sensed there was no alternative. This was the way it had to be.

Driscoll had booked her a room at Claridge’s, where she spent the evening and night in conditions of disorientating luxury. The bath in her room was so big she found herself floating in it, the bed so vast she felt like a child when she laid her head on the enormous pillow.