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t the fuck are you doing following Vesper Arkham around？ You spend any more time with her； you're gonna need my help bad。〃
〃That kind of help I don't need。〃
〃No？ Right now； I'm your magic godfather … pun intended。 And where you're goin'； I do believe you're gonna need all the help you can get； even from this goombah。〃 Bad Clams sneered。 〃Fuck you； buddy。 I know just what you think of me； that I'm one small step above a gorilla in a zoo。〃 He pointed his forefinger at Croaker's chest。 〃Fact is； I don't give a rat's ass what you think of me； okay？ Just so we got that straight。 You got your right to be an asshole just like everybody else； I won't lose sleep over it。
〃The only thing you gotta keep in mind from now on is I got my eye on you； okay？ Just 'cause you're flying the pond don't mean I won't know where you go and what you do。 Don't try to cross me in London or wherever the fuck you wind up with this thing； because I'll e down on you with both my hobnailed boots strapped on and it won't be a pretty picture； all right？〃
〃I'm reading you loud and clear。〃
Bad Clams laughed。 〃Yeah； you even sound like a pilot。 What did you do； wave your fed badge in front of the airline's nose？〃
〃Something like that。 They loaned me this pilot's uniform and I'm deadheading with a couple of flight attendants on the second London run of the day。〃 He watched Leonforte carefully。 〃Are you done intimidating me？ Can I go now？〃
Bad Clams waved a hand in the air。 〃Do whatever the fuck you want； Lew。 Just remember that every action has an equal and opposite reaction。 Think of the consequences before you leap； not after。 I take no prisoners。〃
The giant aircraft was late in taking off； and sitting in the back of the plane； Croaker wondered whether it had anything to do with him。 He had been the last person boarding； checking on Vesper from the doorway area。 She was seated in first class； along with all the other millionaires。
He didn't want to think about Bad Clams Leonforte； but the madman just would not go away。 How had he known when and where Croaker would show up unless he was having him followed？ And if he could be believed； he was able to keep an international flight on hold while he psychologically twisted Croaker's arm。
It was beginning to look as if Bad Clams was as unusual in his way as Dominic Goldoni had been in his。 What kind of world had he fallen into where underworld figures wormed their way into a highly clandestine bureau of the federal government； engaged in international economic warfare with Japanese Yakuza； and pretty much had the run of legitimate businesses？ These people were not your normal gavones from Sicily who broke heads to intimidate their enemies and indiscriminately spilled blood when they didn't get their way。 These were not crude men； but rather calculated thinkers with the kind of prescience that allowed them audacious leaps of deduction that went beyond mere canny business sense。 Goldoni's successes had entered the realm of legerdemain； but he seriously doubted that Bad Clams； the egotist； the pseudophilosopher with the hair…trigger temper； was in the league of either Goldoni or his own father； the brilliant Leon Waxman。
Waxman； the man of a thousand faces and identities； had been known as Jonathan Leonard when he served in the U。S。 Army during the occupation of Japan in the midforties； but he had been born John Leonforte。
Johnny had had three children： Bad Clams； Michael； and a daughter； Jaqui； who had died in a car accident when she was twenty。 Michael was the real mystery。 A genuine rebel who could not deal with authority on any level； he had been put to work in Special Forces in Vietnam。 Soon thereafter； he went AWOL somewhere in the Laotian backcountry where even the superspooks in Special Forces had not been able to find him。 Whether he was dead or alive was anyone's guess。
As for his father； Mikio Okami believed he had killed Jonathan Leonard when they had clashed in Tokyo in the spring of 1947； but Leonard had survived； had made his way to a hospital； and had had reconstructive surgery on his face after having his wounds patched up。 When he recovered； he had bee Leon Waxman。 How he had e to the attention of the spymaster Sen。 Richard Dedalus was a mystery for another day； but the fact remained that he had bee the head of Dedalus's agency until his unmasking and death late last year。
Croaker had learned most of what he knew about Bad Clams's father from Faith Goldoni； Dominic's mother； who had known him in Tokyo。 She also had changed names freely。 Now known in Washington power circles as Renata Loti； she was a lobbyist of extraordinary influence。 Margarite had taken Croaker to meet Faith； and he had seen what an extraordinary woman she was。 She had been responsible for bringing Leon Waxman down。
Curiously； Faith had made no mention of Senator Dedalus。 But what interested Croaker most now was Dedalus's relationship with DARPA； the Pentagon's Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency。 He wondered if anyone there knew of Torch 315； whether they knew where it was going to be detonated on the ides of March； or whether he was making an interesting fiction out of a stew of disparate clues。 He hoped this next step backward along Mikio Okami's Nishiki network would provide some answers because be had a distinct premonition that Okami and the late lamented Dominic Goldoni were tied up with Dedalus。 At the very least； they had been involved with Morgana； Inc。； the shadow corporation that dealt in illegal arms trading。
The merry…go…round was getting filled up； Croaker thought： Dominic introduces his sister Margarite to Senator Dedalus； who oversees DARPA。 Margarite； it turns out； is also cozy with Vesper； who is working for Morgana； Inc。 And Vesper was also a member of Mikio Okami's Nishiki network。 All the players were there； it was now up to Croaker to figure out their roles。
He closed his eyes； and in a moment he was asleep。 That was a mistake。 He awoke with a start； a thin film of sweat riming his upper lip。 His underarms were damp。 He was still half in the dream； where like a magnificent stage drama； his worst fear had e to life： Two women moving on a shadowed stage； intimate whispers； the erotic slide of satin against skin。 And then； like the sudden advent of a key light； a familiar voice piercing the semidarkness as Margarite orders Vesper to kill him。
Blue smoke like mist。
Copper shadows curling toward the ceiling； stirred by music from the semicircle of matte black speakers surmounting a mammoth karaoke machine。 The puterized machine was fitted with a chromium grille so that it looked like the front end of an old American car。 Its aggressively retro look was currently the rage in Japan。 In three months that all…important look would change； out would go this karaoke machine； in would e a new one。
A small man in a business suit was attempting to sing 〃Be My Love〃 as he ran the flat of his hand along his temples to sleek his silver…streaked hair back like that of the moving image of Jerry Vale behind him。
As Nicholas and Taehi entered Ningyo…ro； the ultramodern nightclub in Kyoto that V。 I。 Pavlov had visited； they were engulfed by the tremoloed sounds b