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Opening his tanjian eye； Nicholas knew that in this； at least； Van Kiet was telling the truth。 He relaxed； sat back in the jeep's rear seat。 Even though he remained unbound； he was now further from freedom than he had been when he had been dumped into the jeep at Cu Chi。
They remained in silence while the driver maneuvered through the cart…clogged outskirts of the city。 Nicholas saw almost at once that Van Kiet had no intention of taking him to the police station。 That was an ominous sign； and Nicholas began to speculate on whose orders Van Kiet was following。 A man like him； in the thick of intrigue in Saigon and its environs； might conceivably be on the payroll of more than one major operator。 If he was sufficiently enterprising and clever enough； Van Kiet could juggle these multiple responsibilities while keeping them separate。 It certainly wouldn't do to let the Shan opium warlord who might be paying him off learn that he was also selling intelligence and protection to an international arms trader in the area。 Such a misstep could only lead to the kind of violent death that overtook Vincent Tinh。
Nicholas knew he had to concentrate on surviving in any way possible。 Van Kiet appeared to be acting on someone else's orders； and in all likelihood someone who was in someway connected to Tinh's murder。 Nicholas had set events in motion along this path。 Tinh had been making money on； among other things； the illegal puter hybrid using the stolen Chi technology； a first…generation neural…net chip。 Now Tinh was gone and so was the illegal puter； and Nicholas had established himself in Saigon with a second…generation neural…net chip。 Surely； he had reasoned； this was the most potent bait for the people with whom Tinh had been in business。
Bay had given him one name； the Russian national Abramanov。 But Abramanov was a techie； not a businessman。 Besides； he would have no influence in Vietnam； Russians were universally reviled here。 Who was behind Abramanov？ Nicholas could not escape the suspicion that whoever it was； was the same person who had ordered Tinh's murder。 Now； it seemed likely that Nicholas was being taken to that man or one of his group。 If he could survive long enough。
At length； they pulled up in front of an anonymous building with only a number affixed to the crumbling stucco fa？ade。
Something about the address seemed familiar。 Bicycles and cyclos passed by as they climbed out of the jeep。 Nicholas could appreciate the element of freedom these passersby had； for the first time separating that freedom from the extreme poverty that was ubiquitous。 These people； poor and miserable as they were； possessed something invaluable he did not。 When he had arrived in Saigon； he would have found it inconceivable to envy anyone here； but now he did； and he felt humbled by it。
Inside； the building appeared deserted。 Then Nicholas turned and； peering back down the hallway； felt his memory engage。 The address。 This building was where Vincent Tinh had rented space to do his illegal business； according to Shindo。 Now Nicholas felt another step closer to solving the riddle of Tinh's murder。
With the driver leading the way and Chief Inspector Van Kiet just behind Nicholas； they mounted a steep flight of metal stairs。 But before they could reach the first landing； their way was blocked by a figure ing down from above。
〃Chief Inspector；〃 a well…modulated voice said。
〃You！〃 Van Kiet was as still as a statue。
〃I'll take charge of this man now；〃 Seiko said。
〃Impossible！ Have you any idea what he's charged with？〃
〃I know everything。〃
〃Even so； I can't just …〃
〃This is me you're talking to； Van Kiet。 You can and you will。〃
Nicholas； listening to this extraordinary exchange； felt his heart skip a beat。 This beautiful Japanese woman； Seiko Ito； had been his assistant。 It had been she who had suggested he hire Vincent Tinh to be the director of Sato…Tomkin's new Saigon office。 Apparently； she had also been involved in the smuggling of the Chi neural…net chip out of Tokyo to Tinh here in Saigon。 In Nicholas's absence； and without solid proof； Tanzan Nangi； Nicholas's partner； had sent her here to take over the operations； hoping that he would give her enough rope to hang herself。 If she was convinced that she was trusted by management in Tokyo； Nangi reasoned； she might bee careless and give herself away。
Now she was here； in the building where Tinh had rented space； and was not only acquainted with the chief inspector of the Saigon police but was apparently also able to exert absolute influence over him。
Seiko took one step down the stairs； where Van Kiet's driver was blocking her path。 She wore a black…and…turquoise raw…silk tank dress that left her shoulders and most of her legs bare。 She was without earrings but wore a wide worked…silver cuff on her left wrist。 She looked beautiful and fit and； at the moment； most determined。 Her expression was one that Nicholas had never seen on her face before。
The driver looked inquiringly at his superior； who gave him a curt nod。 The driver stepped aside。
〃e； Nicholas；〃 Seiko said； brushing against him as she went past 〃You must be exhausted after your long ordeal。〃
He wanted to tell her no； that she should just leave； let him be now that he was so close to his goal。 She thought she was saving him； but ironically； all she was doing was setting back his investigation； perhaps fatally。 But how could be tell her all this with Van Kiet staring at them？
He had no choice。 He went past the glum policeman； following Seiko along the corridor。 Ahead of him； he could see the brilliant oblong of the open doorway to the street； where bicycles and cyclos whizzed past； free as the black birds in the sky。
〃Tony thinks you murdered Dominic Goldoni。〃
〃But you know better； don't you； Mr。 Croaker。〃
〃Yes。 As a matter of fact； I do。〃
Caesare Leonforte poured them both refills from the bottle of Jordan cabernet he had ordered。 〃There are many advantages to living in California； not the least of which is being so dose to the best wine…producing country in America。〃 He sipped the ruby liquid。 〃I was brought up on Italian wines and I still love them； but the wines of Napa and Sonoma。。。'〃 He looked into the glass。 〃A magnificent achievement！ Like the Japanese； really。〃
〃The Japanese？〃
Croaker and Caesare Leonforte were seated in the rear of a trendy TriBeCa restaurant on the west side of downtown Manhattan； just south of Canal Street。 No homey checker…clothed table in Little Italy for Bad Clams。 The long； narrow room had a vaguely industrial air with its factory windows； exposed pipes； and waiters in black trousers and collarless shirts。 The bareness of the cavernous room was mitigated only by a long； sleek cherrywood bar that rose from a polished wood…plank floor that looked old and scarred enough to have once been trod by Herman Melville。 Presumably； the MAC…10…toting bodyguards were skulking somewhere out of sight on the pavement；
〃In the fifties and sixties；〃 Leonforte said； 〃the phrase 'made in Japan' was synonymous with cheap junk。 California wines also； once upon a time。 But now look！〃 He lifted his glass。 〃These wines are the envy of the w