Diamond Solitaire (30 page)

"I get the picture," said Diamond gravely. "He's got minders." "They were under surveillance by Customs and their luggage was inspected, but they were clean."

'They can get guns here. They'll have contacts. I thought at one stage he was acting independently, but I was naive. The stakes are too big. This is bad."

"Yamagata-Zeki agrees with you. He is going with you to Yokohama."

This was hard to credit. "He's planning to come with me?"

"He says you can't handle this alone."

Diamond gave a low whistle as he tried to imagine it. "I'm grateful, but doesn't he think he's rather conspicuous? I mean well known," he corrected himself.

"I don't think it would be wise to question his decision," said Nodo.

"Are you coming too?"

"Oh, no."

"Why not? We need a translator."

"It isn't necessary. You are in Japan."

Events moved on with the positiveness of a
basho.
In a matter of minutes, Yamagata, dressed only in a bright-patterned kimono and flip-flop sandals, was squeezing into the back of a taxi. There was no question of Diamond's sharing the seat, so he traveled with the driver. At intervals along the route to the station, whenever the taxi was forced to slow for lights, people reacted with double takes to the sight of the passenger in the back. Whatever the benefits of having a famous sumo in support, secrecy could be forgotten.

The problem was worse at the station. A crowd gathered almost immediately and stayed with them all the way from the ticket booths to the train. Yamagata accepted the attention as his lot in life. He wore a frown that seemed calculated to keep people from actually asking for autographs or striking up a conversation. They chatted excitedly among themselves, but they didn't trouble him, apart from staring and generally obstructing the view. When he moved, no one was unwise enough to stand in the way for long.

The up side of travel with a sumo hero was that seats were instantly offered on a crowded train, a double for each of them. Once settled, Yamagata closed his eyes as if to shut out the attention. Someone spoke something in Japanese to Diamond, so he followed Yamagata's example. There was no risk of falling asleep because the announcements over the public address system came every few moments with a staccato ferocity that would have woken the dead.

In thirty minutes they reached Yokohama station and changed trains. Yamagata led the way, still oblivious of all the attention he was getting. It was fast becoming apparent to Diamond that he would never have fathomed the intricacies of the railway system without help.

Two stations along, they got out again and went for a taxi. Other people were waiting for cabs, but the front of the queue melted away when Yamagata arrived with his entourage of the starstruck and the starers.

They climbed into the first one on the rank and Yamagata gave the driver his instruction.

Next stop, the University, unless I've been totally misled, thought Diamond.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Yokohama University was little different from Tokyo Central Station in the way people reacted to having a sumo celebrity among them. The administrative staff flocked into the reception hall to stare at the illustrious guest, who conducted himself in the same imperious manner, staring into the mid-distance as if to show disdain for an opponent. At the desk, however, he became animated and explained the purpose of the visit in fast, forceful Japanese. Confused and overcome, the young woman on duty didn't appear to take in what he was saying, so he repeated it. There was an embarrassing hiatus until one of the staff, a demure, blushing girl with wide, intelligent eyes and a tiny mouth exquisitely defined in brilliant lipstick, took Diamond aside and asked if he was American.

"English. Is there a problem?"

"We are not accustomed to visits from
sumotori."

"I can understand."

"Of course we are honored. We wish we could have made preparations, arranged a proper tour."

"We don't want a tour, thanks. We just want to speak to someone in the biochemistry department—a research scientist It's very urgent."

"He said something about a missing child."

"That's right. We want to speak to the mother, Dr. Yuko Masuda. Could you find out whether she's on the campus today?"

"I'll ask them."

She came back without an answer, but with an instruction: "Please, they say you should proceed to the science building and to the department of biochemistry."

"What's your name?"

She looked slightly dismayed to have been asked. "Miss Yamamoto."

Diamond tried repeating it exactly as she had spoken. He wasn't being familiar just because she was pretty. "Can you come with us and translate for me?" She lowered her head decorously. "That would be an honor, sir."

"Excellent And one more thing."

"Yes?"

"It would not be wise to let Dr. Masuda know who her visitors are. We don't want to alarm her."

"I shall tell them."

They were escorted through a labyrinth of cloisters to the science blocks, modern precast structures several stories high. The news had traveled. Faces were at most of the windows and there was a garnering of interested students at the entrance, some taking photographs and some ready with pens and paper, but no one went so far as to ask for an autograph. Yamagata's look wasn't inviting.

Biochemistry was on the second floor. Diamond had doubts about sharing the elevator with so much poundage, but their guide didn't hesitate and the machinery survived the test.

As the doors parted, a silver-haired man in a white lab coat stepped forward and greeted them in the traditional Japanese manner.

"This is Dr. Hitomi, principal lecturer in postgraduate studies," the indispensable Miss Yamamoto explained.

They were taken to the departmental office and offered seats. Yamagata looked dubiously at the plastic chair mat was expected to support him and shook his head, so Diamond tactfully remained standing also. Anyway, he expected to meet Dr. Masuda shortly, which would mean hoisting himself upright again.

A crushing disappointment followed. It emerged that Naomi's mother was not based at this campus after all. She had last worked here some seven years ago, researching into a drug for the treatment of comas.

"Jantac?" said Diamond when this had been translated.

Dr. Hitomi nodded.

"But we heard that she is still carrying out research here, with a grant from Manflex Pharmaceuticals," Diamond said.

This created some uncertainty.

"He repeats that Dr. Masuda is not working here," Miss Yamamoto told him. "Her research here terminated in 1985."

'Terminated? Definitely terminated?"

"Definitely."

Dr. Hitomi spoke some more.

"He says he knew Dr. Masuda personally. She was a good scientist. Her work came to an end when Manflex took a decision to stop further experimentation with Jantac."

"Why? Why was it stopped?"

When this was put to Dr. Hitomi, he shrugged before giving his answer.

"He says Dr. Masuda had worked with Jantac for more than two years and was getting good results in reversing coma symptoms, but about this time she detected side effects from the drag."

"Side effects?" Diamond's antennae were out.

Dr. Hitomi had taken a Japanese/English dictionary from the shelf behind him. He pointed out a word.

"Cirrhosis?" said Diamond. "Liver disease?" His brain darted through the implications.

After another explanation, Miss Yamamoto translated, "The side effect of this drug was difficult to detect, because the coma patients were alcoholic and alcoholism is a major cause of what is that word?"

"Cirrhosis."

"He says alcoholism causes cirrhosis anyway. However, Dr. Masuda discovered that Jantac also caused an increase in liver enzymes, producing cirrhosis. A small side effect is acceptable, but this was too much. When she reported her findings to Manflex, they terminated the program."

Dr. Hitomi added something.

"He says Mr. Manny Rexner, is that correct?"

"Manny Flexner, yes."

"Manny Flexner himself took the decision to stop working with Jantac. Mr. Rexner always put the safety of patients first."

Diamond gave a nod while he wrestled with the implications. What he had just heard conflicted with the computer records he'd seen at Manflex headquarters in New York, yet confirmed and expanded on the information he'd seen on the record card in the basement. Jantac had proved to be a dangerous drug and as a result Yuko Masuda's research had been axed.

"Would you ask Dr. Hitomi if the department has copies of any correspondence dealing with this matter?"

This, it seemed, was doubtful. Dr. Hitomi picked up a phone.

It emerged that the correspondence had been returned to Manflex some months ago at their request.

Suspicious.

"This year?"

"Yes."

Someone in New York had gone to unusual lengths in covering tracks. Diamond sighed and folded his arms. It was a strange situation, being surrounded by a group of people so willing to help and watching him intently, but without understanding the problem. It was down to him, and he was far from certain what to suggest next.

"Does the University possess copies of the papers Dr. Masuda published?"

Almost certainly they did, in the library.

"In English as well as Japanese?"

It was likely.

The entire circus struck tents and removed to the library, where the by now predictable excitement and confusion prevented anything useful happening for several minutes. At length, Diamond was presented with copy in English of Yuko Masuda's research paper on the treatment of alcoholic coma presented to the Japanese Pharmacological Conference in Tokyo in 1983. He sat down to see what he could discover in it, while everyone waited.

Inwardly he groaned. The text was way beyond his comprehension. He stared at the first page for some time before turning to see how many pages like this there were. Thirteen.

Then his attention focused on a paragraph toward the end of the last page:

"The research continues. Present studies are concentrated
on a compound patented by Manflex Pharmaceuticals and
given the proprietary name Jantac, and early results are encouraging."

He looked for the footnote and found that it gave a chemical formula.

Ideas rarely come as inspirations. More usually they develop in levels of the brain just above the subconscious, over hours, days or years, and most of them never come to anything. He had kept a vague idea on hold ever since he had stood in the basement of the Manflex building with Molly Docherty and looked at Yuko Masuda's record card.

"May 1 use a phone? I want to call New York."

They took him into the chief librarian's office. Fortunately he could remember the number he wanted.

"Police," said a weary American voice.

"Is this the Twenty-sixth Precinct? Lieutenant Eastland, please."

"Who is this?"

"Peter Diamond, Superintendent Diamond, speaking from Yokohama."

"Lieutenant Eastland isn't here just now, sir."

"In that case, would you give me his home number. It's extremely urgent."

"We can't disturb him right now, sir. Do you know what time it is here?"

Diamond erupted. He didn't care what the sodding time was in New York. A child's life was at stake and he needed to speak to Eastland right now.

She took the number and promised that she would insure mat the lieutenant called right back within the next few minutes.

The promise was kept.

The familiar voice, husky with sleep, protested angrily, "Diamond? For Chrissake—"

"Listen. That conference at the Sheraton. Are you with me?"

"Yeah," said Eastland, already capitulating. He
must
have been tired.

"Do you still have the literature?"

"Literature?"

"The press pack. The stuff about PDM3."

"I don't know. I could have thrown it out. It may be downstairs. Do you want me to look?"

"Oh, come on. Would I be phoning you?"

"Hold the line. I'll be right back."

Through the door he could just see Yamagata doing an exercise that involved propping his left leg on a bookshelf. It looked liable to cause a disaster.

"Peter, you there?"

"Of course. Have you got it?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now, turn to the first page of that blue leaflet, the one that introduces PDM3. Somewhere, there's a chemical formula. Know what I mean?"

"Hold on Okay. You want me to read it out?"

"No, let me try. Listen carefully. Check every figure, would you? C
_18?
"

"Correct."

"H
_13?
"

"Check."

Diamond's pulse beat more strongly. He was reading out the formula for Jantac. "NOC."

"Yeah."

It
had
to be the same now. His voice breaking up with tension, he completed the formula. It was precisely the same. Jantac, the drug dumped by Manny Flexner in 1985, had been resurrected as Prodermolate—the miraculous PDM3.

"Is that all you wanted?" said Eastland in a less than cordial tone.

"That's all I wanted—unless you can give me the form on a couple of hatchet men called Lanzi and Frizzoni."

"Never heard of them. Can I go back to bed now?"

Diamond thanked him and put down the phone. He gestured to Yamagata to come into the office and the big fellow thoughtfully grasped Miss Yamamoto's wrist and brought her in as well. Blushing as only a Japanese girl can, but not displeased— for his grip was gentle—she remained standing beside him when he released her.

It was vital that Yamagata understood the significance of this discovery. Others, including Dr. Hitomi and a couple of librarians, had followed him in, but Diamond couched his explanation in terms meant for the wrestler. "Do you see what I'm driving at?" he said when he'd given the gist of the phone call. "Jantac was discredited here. It's dangerous, and shouldn't have been used again. We now know that another team of researchers, headed by Professor Churchward, worked independently with the same compound and came up with sensational results in the treatment of Alzheimer's disease. I'm not going to speculate whether Churchward knew that he was working with a dangerous drug, but someone at Manflex headquarters certainly knew, which is why all mention of Jantac was erased from Yuko Masuda's computer record." He waited for mis to be translated, and he had to repeat it more slowly. In his eagerness he'd strung too many sentences together. Also he suspected that Miss Yamamoto was distracted by Yamagata.

Yamagata said recognizably, "Leapman."

"Yes, it had to be Leapman. All his actions confirm that he's responsible. And something else was altered on the computer. Dr. Masuda's project was stopped in 1985, but the computer record was falsified to make it appear that her research continues. Some other group of drugs is mentioned, but that's just a smoke screen. On second thought," he said quickly, "don't try translating that last bit."

After Miss Yamamoto had filled in, Diamond resumed, "It isn't just a matter of falsifying the records. Leapman is in deep with organized criminals, who are set to make big profits out of PDM3. Manflex was on the slide at the beginning of this year." He mimed the downward slope of a sales graph. "Before Manny Hexner committed suicide, there was a big fire at one of their plants in Europe. Milan. Manflex dropped even lower on the stock markets. There's a police investigation still going on into a possible arson attack. To me, that suggests this plot was being hatched many months ago."

He paused for the translation. Yamagata nodded gravely. He seemed to be following what was said.

"If they're capable of doing that, they're capable of murdering Yuko Masuda, who could have exposed them. I can't say for certain yet, but I very much fear that she is dead. I believe her little daughter—the child I know as Naomi—was given to Mrs. Tanaka, a woman desperate to adopt. Maybe they drew the line at killing a child. Mrs. Tanaka was ordered to get the child out of Japan, to Europe. She was horrified to discover that Naomi was autistic. She couldn't cope and she abandoned her. I'm sorry, I'm not giving you a chance," he admitted to Miss Yamamoto.

"It's all right," she said, launching into a translation directly, looking up earnestly at the wrestler.

"As you know," Diamond picked up his thread again, "in England we did all we could to publicize Naomi's plight. After I went on television, Mrs. Tanaka panicked and snatched Naomi back. She was in trouble now. She couldn't possibly stay in Britain, so she phoned her contact for orders. They told her to fly to New York, and she obeyed, a fatal move, if only she'd realized. Obviously the people behind this scam had decided Mrs. Tanaka was unreliable and dispensable, and they hired a man to meet her and murder her."

He stopped. He'd told most of it now. It all hung together so well. And yet...

Yamagata listened to the Japanese version and then spoke a few words that, translated into English, pinpointed the problem. "If Dr. Masuda is dead, why has Leapman come to Japan with Naomi and two American strongmen?"