Linnear 01 - The Ninja (25 page)

Frank led them into the innards of the structure, through the enormous atrium lobby, then along a corridor where bare light bulbs hung on flex threads and the damp smell of raw concrete filled their nostrils.

Olive-green mats still hung on the walls of the elevator. They took it to the top. In the hall a man as big across as Frank but slightly shorter met them. They went silently down the corridor.

The ceiling was finished, as was the interior wall, in a deep blue fabric, slightly nubby, giving the effect of raw silk. To their right, the outer wall was glass down to the level of their shins, or at least it would be when all the plates were in. Mostly it was a latticework of thin-seeming metal, stained orange by the rust proofing. Beyond was the breathtaking panorama of Manhattan, west and north. First the thick buildings on the opposite side of the avenue, then onward, marching in square cut rows towards the Hudson. River. Looking north, he could make out the depression in the elevated surface of Manhattan that was the south end of Central Park.

The corridor gave onto metal-facaded double doors with ostentatious brass doorknobs in the centre of each. To the left, bare wooden doors opened on small offices, floored at this stage only with rough concrete. In several Nicholas could see the huge rolls of carpet, ready to be stapled down.

A warm wind whipped at them, intermittently. It was still hot up here; one could not so easily escape the heat of a summer’s day in Manhattan. Soot and grime raced along the bare floor like spindrift, borne on the breeze. The corridor seemed very exposed at this point.

Tomkin paused before the metal doors and looked outward. His arm lifted as if he were about to begin an aria. ‘Do you see what I see, Nicholas?” He turned for a moment. ‘I may call you Nicholas.’ But it was a rhetorical question and he continued apace. ‘That used to be a big world out there. Used to be something for everyone - at least for anyone with guts enough to go out and get it.’ His arm came down, the fingers curled at his side. ‘Now it’s nothing but a goddamned industrial farmyard. There’s no space any more and no time. Do you know what that means, hmm? I’ll tell you. There’s not enough out there any more. We’re all strangling each other in an effort to survive. Oho, yes, you heard me right. It’s survival now, not just a matter of making a profit. And the world’s homogenized.’ He squinted sideways at Nicholas. ‘You know what I mean? No? How’d you have liked to’ve been Marco Polo, eh? Travelling for two and a half years across the endless deadly expanse of Asia; to come at last upon Cathay, a land where no Western man had ever dreamed of, let alone set foot in? Could there be anything in this world to equal such an extraordinary experience? No, I’ll tell you a thousand times. No.’

He moved forward as if in a trance, put his hands on the spider-web tracery of the steel superstructure. ‘Do you know,’ he whispered, ‘that I don’t know how much money I have. Oh, I could hire a staff to figure it out, except by the time they did me figure’d be totally out of date. Anyway, the sum’s far too big to think about comfortably.’ His face glistened now with a thin film of sweat. ‘There is virtually nothing in this world I can’t have if I wish it. Do you believe that?’ He turned on Nicholas. His tone of voice had turned savage and the veins stood out on the sides of his temples, pulsing. ‘I could have you heaved over the side of this building. Now. Just like that. I could do it with complete immunity. Oh, I might have to suffer through a cursory investigation but that’s all.’ He waved a hand. ‘But I wouldn’t.’

‘I’m relieved,’ Nicholas said, but Tomkin went on as though he hadn’t heard him.

‘That would be a rather despotic way to act. A flaunting of my power. It doesn’t interest me.”

‘You sound disappointed.’

‘What?’ He came back from his reverie slowly. ‘Oh, of course not. But let-me tell you, like all great men before me I am concerned by mortality - my mortality.’ He hesitated. ‘I want the best for Justine - for both my daughters.’

For some reason, Nicholas had the distinct impression that Tomkin had been about to say something else entirely. ‘Then I’m sure they’ll get it,’ he said.

‘Don’t patronize me,’ Tomkin said harshly ‘I am well aware of my failings as a father. Justine has problems relating to men and Gelda just divorced her fourth husband and I can’t hire enough men to keep her away from the liquor. I keep jumping into their lives. In and out. That’s the way it is. If it’s hard for either of them to bear, too bad.’

‘Justine, at least, doesn’t seem to want you jumping at all,’ Nicholas pointed out.

‘She’s got no choice,’ Tomkin snarled. ‘I’m still her father whatever she cares to say to others. I still love her. I love them both. We’re all fucked up, one way or another; their problems are just more visible than most, that’s all.’

‘Look, Mr Tomkin -‘

‘Don’t screw up now, Nicholas. Not when we’re getting along so well.’ He spat the words out now as if they were burning the lining of his mouth. ‘Sure she hated it when I jumped in two years ago. But what did she know? Christ, she was up to her armpits in shit.’ He made a quick violent motion with his head. ‘She was following that bastard around like he was God himself.’

‘She told me -‘ Nicholas began.

‘Did she tell you that he ran a male stud service? That he was a speed freak? That he liked men more than women? Did she tell you that he tied her up and beat her before laying her? Did she tell you any of that?’ His face was mottled with anger and shame and spittle flew uncontrollably from his lips.

‘No,’ Nicholas said softly. ‘She didn’t.’

Tomkin laughed harshly, humourlessly, an animal-like sound. ‘I’ll just bet she didn’t.’ His head was thrust forward and in that position he looked remarkably like a hunting dog on point. Nicholas found himself wondering if he were the prey. If so, Tomkin had bitten off more than he could chew this time.

‘You had no business telling me all this,’ he said. His voice rose dangerously.

‘What’s the matter? Is your stomach turning at the thought?” He smirked. ‘Does she disgust you now that you know what kind of woman she really is? Do you hate yourself for ever getting involved with her?’

‘It doesn’t matter what she did in the past,’ Nicholas said slowly. ‘And unless she’s living in the past, it has no bearing on either of us.’ He stared at Tomkin, at the sweating face hovering close in front of him. ‘I know what kind of person Justine is, Tomkin. I just wonder whether you do.”

For just a moment, Tomkin’s eyes seemed to bulge. Then, abruptly, he seemed in total control of himself once again and all signs of anger slipped away from him. He smiled, clapped Nicholas on the back. ‘I don’t suppose I can be condemned for making certain, can I?’

Nicholas realized just how weak Tomkin was. That was why he made such an overt show of disfranchising his daughters, because they were so important to him - his immortality. Nicholas wondered whether he was reconciled to not having a son to carry on the line.

Oddly, it was this weakness which prevented Nicholas from disliking the man. He had been taught, at the Itto ryu, to seize upon an opponent’s weakness and thereby bring him crashing down. But outside the dojo, Nicholas had learned that people often lived their lives, or at least a good part of them, out of weakness. It was what made them human, what made them vulnerable; what made them interesting. Take Musashi, for example. If one believed entirely the Go Rin No Sho, one saw not a man but a steel monument, invincible and emotionless. However, there were many stories concerning Musashi. The one Nicholas never forgot was the one where Musashi was defeated by a ninja using a paper fan. Ninja were notorious for their harnessing of odylic forces and this, it was commonly believed, was what made Musashi’s defeat so effortless. Nicholas, of course, knew that there was more to it than that. Still, it warmed him to know that the great Musashi, the Sword Saint, had after all tasted defeat.

It would be all too easy, Nicholas knew, to dismiss Tomkin as villainous and have nothing more to do with him. But people’s facades were all too often just that. He had touched a nerve and had glimpsed for an instant something else in the man, a spark that humbled him, made him human. Moreover, Tomkin was intelligent enough to realize that he had given away this advantage to Nicholas and now Nicholas was intrigued enough to try to find out why. He did not have long to wait.

‘I want you to work for me,’ Tomkin said easily. ‘I want you to find out what’s going on. I know all about the Yakuza! I’ve even had a brush with Shoto. You’ve heard of him, no doubt?’ Nicholas nodded and he went on. ‘Tough cookie, that one. But I managed.’ He put his finger and thumb up, pinched his lower lip thoughtfully. ‘Don’t know anything about ninja, though, and what I-don’t know about myself I give over to experts.” He stabbed a forefinger. ‘You’re an expert on these bastards, isn’t that right?”

‘You could say that.”

‘Well, I want to hire you, then. Find out what this is all about.’ He produced the folded sheet of rice paper with the ninja crest painted on it, waved it. ‘Take the goddamned thing. I don’t want it.”

Nicholas did not move. ‘When did you get it?’ he said.

‘Like I said, came in the Japan pouch, let me see, oh, about a week ago.”

A week, Nicholas thought. It could not be a coincidence. Barry’s body had been found about that time. Then he had been right. Tomkin was the target. ‘I think you’ve been marked for assassination,’ he said.

Tomkin did not even blink. ‘All right. It’s happened before.’

‘Not with a ninja.’

‘No,’ Tomkin admitted. ‘But I told you I’ve had a spot of Yakuza trouble. Nothing I couldn’t handle.’

‘This is different.’

‘How so? He’ll never get to me.’

‘There are a thousand ways he could do it but don’t waste your time trying to figure out how. You’ll never do it.’

‘Is this a sales pitch?’ Tomkin’s eyes had gone hard. ‘A little something you just dreamed up to give yourself a raise before you’ve even started work?’

‘I never said I’d take the job.’

Tomkin shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. I’ve got Frank and Whistle there. I’m not worried.’

Nicholas did not even look at them. ‘Tomkin, if indeed a ninja has been contracted to assassinate you, he’ll go right through those two as if they were stalks of wheat.’

‘Like I said, that’s some sweet sales pitch you’ve got.’

‘It’s no pitch at all. You’ve made me late for an important appointment. I’m not inter -‘

He missed the signal but they were on him, one on each side. Frank’s hands hung loosely at his sides, the fingers slightly curled. Whistle’s gun was already out. It was a snub-nosed .38 not so good at long range but brutal within fifteen yards. They were way inside that now.

Nicholas was in the classic first position of yoroi kumi-uchi, originally grappling in armour but today used quite effectively when one was dressed in Western street clothes.

Whistle’s revolver was at the horizontal, his forefinger beginning to squeeze inwards on the trigger. Nicholas stepped forward, jammed his right foot into the man’s left instep while at the same time slamming the muzzle of the gun away with the edge of his left hand. There was an explosion and the bullet whined off the inner wall, leaving a grey scar against the blue.

Whistle dropped the useless gun, bringing his right hand upward towards Nicholas’s abdomen. He watched it, wide-eyed, as it was halted in mid-flight as if it had come up against a concrete barrier. He winced in pain as it was twisted hard round, felt a hot tearing and then a whip like snap. At the same instant, Nicholas’s left hand smashed into his collarbone and he went down, unconscious.

Frank moved in. He made no move towards the gun under his armpit. His fingers were as straight as boards as he whipped forward.

Nicholas stood motionless, watching the unfolding of the assault. There was plenty of time. He is left-handed, Nicholas thought, and he’s expecting karate.

At the point of Frank’s attack, Nicholas moved almost languidly, separating the deadly hands. To Tomkin, watching interestedly from the sidelines, it appeared as if he had not moved at all, merely pushed his elbows into Frank’s rib cage almost gently. Frank collapsed onto the concrete floor.

‘I knew you were good,’ Tomkin said excitedly. ‘I knew it. The reports said so, but you often can’t trust them. Take other people’s work for granted and you find yourself in a hole. Happens all the goddamned time.’ He stared down at his two incapacitated bodyguards. ‘Fucking great, that’s all.’ He looked up, extended a hand. ‘Glad to have you aboard, Nick.’

Nicholas stared at Tomkin’s face as he moved away down the corridor towards the elevator. ‘I told you, I’m not interested in working for you.” He pressed the button and it glowed. The elevator began its ascent. ‘You have no respect for people.’ Tomkin came towards him, stepping over the fallen bodies.

‘It’s not like that.’

‘Sure it is. I don’t like being manipulated. Any more than I imagine Justine does. I don’t owe you a thing, Tomkin. You have no claim over me.’

Behind him the elevator doors opened. He stepped inside.

‘Wait a minute, Nick.’ Tomkin reached out a hand.

‘Don’t call me. I’ll call you.’

The doors began to close as Nicholas pressed the ground button but Tomkin lunged forward, holding back the doors with his hands. His face was as hard as granite and there was a peculiar feral light in his eyes. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ he spat. ‘It’s not only my life that’s at stake but my daughters’, too. You wouldn’t want this sonovabitch to get his hands on Justine. Would you? Think about that,’ he said savagely and let the doors sigh shut.

On the way down, Nicholas recalled the night he and Justine were together, when that thing came through the kitchen window. Red blood and black fur. The Kuji-kiri ninja calling card, meant to create terror, one of the ninja’s most useful weapons. The Kuji-kiri, most feared of all the ninja ryu. Whose crest was the komuso ideogram, circled, surrounded by nine diamonds.

Justine! his mind cried out. He looked up, watching in impatience as the floor numbers flickered by. He wanted to get to a phone immediately.