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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 blasting from the karaoke's speakers。 They stood； transfixed for a moment by the shimmering atmosphere； tangible as the cacophony of a construction site at full bore。 The bination of dark colors and chrome rails and seatbacks； all lit by a thousand pin…spots； gave the room its own outré form of shadow and light。 Beyond the main room was a smaller counterpart lit with black light。 Shades of the seventies。
Ningyo…ro； the Doll Pavilion； was crowded； filled with smoke and gimlet…eyed Japanese all cross…referencing their contacts in industry； government； the bureaucracy； and the Yakuza。 All these sectors were inextricably entwined in an elaborate institutional dance of favors met and payoffs proffered； intimidation exerted and face saved； that invariably bewildered any Westerner exposed to even a small part of it。
Nicholas and Tachi moved slowly through the crowd； making their way to the bar at the far end of the room。 It was constructed of frosted glass； lit from below by tubes of fluorescent light； which threw into high relief the carvings of female figures seen through a forest of bubbles not unlike those in old…fashioned Christmas lights or sixties Wurlitzer jukeboxes。
As they neared this deliberate film…noir artifact； Nicholas watched a slender waitress as she delivered drinks to a table of thickset Japanese businessmen。 She looked like a doll in traditional white makeup。 They turned their sweat…streaked faces toward her briefly； laughing among themselves。 One reached for a beer； and Nicholas saw a thick swath of elaborate irizumi； the tattoos favored by Yakuza。
Nicholas and Tachi ordered Sapporo beers。 Another foolish Japanese businessman was trying out his awful Elvis impersonation singing 〃Viva Las Vegas。〃 Try as he might； he couldn't get the hip swivel。 It was really quite laughable。
Tachi grunted。 〃It's a big 'if' as to whether this Zao is here at all。〃
〃I don't think so；〃 Nicholas said。 〃The Russian was fastidious with his accounting。 He kept a receipt for this place。 That means if he stayed overnight in Kyoto； he didn't pay for it。〃
〃Maybe Zao put him up。〃
Nicholas nodded。 〃Right。 It makes sense。〃
〃But how are we going to find him in this din？ It would be like looking in a haystack for a plastic needle。 Not even a metal detector would help。〃
He gave Tachi a grin。 〃We're not going to find him； we're going to let him find us。〃 Nicholas signaled to the bartender and； when he came over； leaned in so that he could be heard。 〃Tell Zao that Pavlov sent us。 The deal didn't go through and Pavlov's unhappy。 Very unhappy。〃
〃I don't know anyone named Zao；〃 the bartender said。
〃Be that as it may； Pavlov's sent us with a message for him。〃 Nicholas tapped the spot beneath his jacket where a gun would have hung in a shoulder holster。 〃I think you understand。〃
The bartender shrugged； slid away from them as if he were on roller skates。 He poured three whiskeys； a couple of sakes； filled some beer glasses。
〃What do you think？〃 Tachi asked。
Nicholas shrugged。 〃Toss…up。 But if Zao's a regular here； the bartender's sure to know him。〃
The businessman was into a truly awful rendition of 〃Feelings。〃 Uptempo karaoke were bad enough； but ballads should be banned altogether； Nicholas thought。
Tachi finished his Sapporo； and Nicholas looked around to order refills。 The bartender had disappeared。 That might be a good sign； or the guy might just have had to take a leak。
A Yakuza strode into the main section of the nightclub from the black…lighted interior。 By the size and quality of his retinue of kobun … toot soldiers … he was something less than an oyabun。 He was wearing the uniform typical of such men： wraparound sunglasses； black sharkskin suit； white shirt with an embroidered crest on the breast pocket； striped tie； polished loafers。
〃He's ing this way；〃 Nicholas said； and when Tachi began to turn； added； 〃You'd better let me handle this。 We don't want to start a clan war。〃
By the time the Yakuza was three paces from the bar； Nicholas could sense his intent and he prepared himself for it。 The man； who was broad…shouldered and narrow…hipped； with an angry； closed face full of pockmarks； pushed his way to the bar； brushing up against Nicholas and overturning what was left of his beer。
He said nothing； did not even turn his head in Nicholas's direction； but proceeded to order a Kirin from the newly returned bartender。 Nicholas waited for the bartender to place the tall glass of beer in front of the Yakuza； then reached over； plucked it up； and drained it。 When he was finished； he smacked his lips loudly； set the empty glass back down in front of the man。
Nicholas began to turn away when he felt an iron grip clamp his right arm just below the biceps。 He turned just in time to see the surprise register for a fleeting instant on the man's face as his fingers took the measure of the muscles in Nicholas's arm。
〃You have no manners； iteki；〃 the man said in Japanese； his face dark with his loss of face。
Nicholas shook the man's hand from him； then bent his knees； extending his right hand palm upward toward the man。
〃I beg you to countenance my words；〃 Nicholas said； beginning the ritual Yakuza introduction exchange。
The Yakuza's face again registered surprise； then renewed anger。 〃Do you mock our traditions； iteki？〃
Nicholas ignored the question； repeated his introduction。
The Yakuza assumed the responding pose。 〃I have words of my own。〃
〃I beg you； since your position is higher； to hear mine first。〃
The Yakuza nodded； straightened up； and Nicholas did the same。
〃Speak； then； iteki〃
〃My name is Nicholas Linnear。 I was born in Singapore。 I have no clan affiliation。〃 The Yakuza smirked at this。 〃You have been deliberately insulting to me； knocking over my drink； pushing me； using epithets。 I wish redress。〃
The smirk on the Yakuza's face widened； and he thrust out his chest so that his jacket opened enough for Nicholas to see the butt of a pistol snug in its shoulder holster。 〃And what form would you propose this redress take？〃
〃I have been polite。 I have told you my name； birthplace； and clan affiliation；〃
The Yakuza； taken aback； was silent for a moment。
〃My name is Kine Oto。 I am also known as Zao。 I was born in Kyoto； and I am an underboss of the Dokudokushii clan。〃 He stuck out his chin。 〃You bring a message for me from the Russian。〃
〃Now we understand one another。〃 Nicholas bowed。 〃I propose we play a game of karuta。〃
Again； there was a hesitation on Zao's part。 Karuta was a card game originally played by the elite families of Japan。
When these families turned to other； more modern diversions； it had been championed by the Yakuza as their main form of gambling。
〃Oh； this should be good；〃 Zao said with a half…stifled laugh。 He gestured to a free table。 〃By all means； let us play karuta。〃
Karuta was based on seasonal flowers and was won or lost on certain number binations。 A deck of cards was produced from behind the bar and placed on the table。 Nicholas asked the bartender if he knew ho