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hadow cast by a large building opposite。 It was too small for a man to get through； but she thought that she might be able to make it。
She took the kyotetsu…shoge； walked to the rear of the roof。 Knotting a length of nylon rope she carried around the center of the weapon's chain； she wrapped the kyotetsu…shoge around a metal flue。 Paying the rope out slowly until she tied the other end around her waist； she went over the side of the house。
When she got level with the pebbled…glass bathroom window； she braced herself by placing her feet on either side of it。 It was partly open； but this was of no help to her； since the metal frame impinged on the space she needed to crawl through。
She spent the next two minutes detaching the window from its hinged brackets。 Then she slid it carefully into the bathroom； followed it in。
It was a tight fit； but she made it。 She untied herself from the nylon cord； stood absolutely still for ten minutes。 While her eyes adjusted to the gloom inside； she accustomed her ears to listen to the natural sounds of the house： creaks； doors opening； closing； footfalls in the hallway； muffled voices。 No TV； no radio； no stereo； no VCR。 No loud sound； no doubt in deference to their sick house guest。
When Koi was certain that she had catalogued every sound； no matter how minute； and that she would pick up the slightest deviation； she opened the bathroom door a crack。
Again she was still for ten minutes； allowing the scents of the house to e to her while the repetition of the tiny sounds reassured her that all was as it should be。
She had e in on the fourth and top floor。 It seemed logical to her for Hitasura to put Tori Nunn as high up as he could。 Also； that he would put her in a room as near to a bathroom as possible。
Koi stepped out into a hallway。 To her right was the landing of the open iron spiral staircase down to the third floor。 Beyond were two rooms； both with their doors open； both dark。 Koi forgot them。 To her left was only one room； the door to which was closed。 A crack of dim light filtered out into the hallway from the far edge； which was not quite fitted into the frame。
Still Koi did not move。 Her peripheral vision had picked up a shadow moving。 It crept up the open stairwell； illuminated by the lamps below。 Someone was ing up the stairs。
She contracted her wa； stilled her breathing to the minimum。 She watched as the top of a man's head came into view。 It stopped； and she could hear voices talking softly。 She craned her neck without otherwise moving； saw the top of a shorter man's head。 He had been guarding the staircase； but because of his lack of height； she had not been able to see him from where she stood。
Koi waited。 Eventually the conversation ceased； the shadow moved down the spiral staircase。 The shorter man remained at his post； but he was concentrated on someone trying to e up the stairs。 Koi slipped down the hallway to her left； out of his field of vision。
She stood by the lone door for a long time。 She could hear nothing from inside the room。 Her fingers on the door； a spider's deft touch。 She pushed it inward。
Koi stepped into the room。 It was a bedroom； furnished in Western style： mahogany bed； masculine dressers； a dark red and black patterned rug covering most of the floor。 A mirror hung on the wall； along with several modern abstract prints。 A lamp glowed on a night table beside the bed。
On Koi's face now spread that singular expression： ecstasy and despair。
In the bed was the sleeping form of a woman。 Koi drank her in； the face beautiful even if her skin was still unhealthily pale。 Her breasts rose and fell evenly from beneath the covers。 Her long cinnamon…colored hair fanned out across the pillowcase。 Very exotic； very American。
Tori Nunn。
ELEVEN
TOKYO
Tori Nunn； lying unconscious in the big bed in the fourth…floor bedroom of Hitasura's safehouse near Hammacho Station； was dreaming of one moment in time； when she was the Wild Child。
It was nine years ago； the year after she had stumbled across Hitasura； who had pulled her out of hiding after she and her brother Greg had been involved in the death of the young Yakuza； three months after she had been recruited into the Mall by Bernard Godwin。
The then…managing director of the Mail…and Godwin's right hand man…was Tom Royce。 Royce was a lanky； rawboned man； a sunravaged Texan who rolled when he walked； and chewed rather than smoked small black cheroots。 It was easy to imagine him in a ten…gallon hat； lassoing a dogie。 Bernard had sent him to Japan to brief Tori on Mall procedure and discipline。
In Tori's opinion； Royce was entirely the wrong man to send to Japan。 After the first interminable week with him； she cabled Bernard this conviction； but all the reply she received was a terse 〃Carry on。 You're under discipline。 Follow orders。〃
In the end； however。 Tori was proved correct。 Japan got to Tom Royce。
Royce fancied himself a real cowboy。 Wyatt Earp。 When Tori found him in the alley behind her apartment shot to death with his own Colt pistol； she was hardly surprised。 But she was angry。 This was Tokyo； her city； and she had been charged with Royce's safety。 Besides； the murder had e on what was the equivalent of her back porch。
She knelt beside Tom Royce's body； pulled the barrel of the Remington out of his throat。 What a way to die。 Yakuza； Tori was willing to bet。 She went to see Hitasura。
The Yakuza oyabun was not forthing。 〃I do not know who killed this American；〃 Hitasura said after they had had green tea and； as civilized protocol demanded； had spoken of many other unimportant matters； 〃but I will shed no tears for him。 And neither will you；〃 he added shrewdly。
''My personal feelings for Royce are unimportant；'' Tori said。 〃I was responsible for him。 Whoever killed him knew that； and threw him up into my face。〃
〃The American was without manners；〃 Hitasura said； as if he had not heard her。 ''He was loud； aggressive； he made passes at our women and insulted our men。 I would think that the suspects in his murder would be many。〃
〃Only one person killed him；〃 Tori said； rising； 〃and that person must answer for the insult。〃
Hitasura had poured more tea。 〃This time； Tori…san； I would think it better if you let the matter drop。〃
〃It is a question of honor；〃 Tori said。 〃If I back away； then I am worth nothing。 To my employers； to myself。〃
Hitasura said nothing； and she left him pouring more tea for himself and for a guest who was no longer there。
Over the next several weeks Tori dived deep into the bowels of Tokyo。 She wheedled； cajoled； threatened； plied her contacts with drink。 Nobody knew a thing about Tom Royce's murder。 Either that or they were involved in a conspiracy of silence。 It could happen。 For all of Tori's fame； and the respect she was given by the Japanese； she was still gaijin； an outsider。 And now； trying to run down Tom Royce's murder； she came to the realization that as much as she wanted…needed…Japan to be her home； it was not。 She was born Caucasian； and here that alone counted too heavily and irrevocably against her。
With a kind of relief she never thought she would feel； she flew back to the States； spent ten days