Dentists and doctors and lawyers and . . .
An import-export company, which the Mandarin characters translated to “Out of This World LLC,” he found out with the aid of a phone app.
He took the stairs up to the eighth floor, opened the door, and peered out.
There was no one walking down the hall. Following the descending office numbers he made his way around a corner and peered down it. Halfway along the corridor he saw a set of wooden doors with the name of the company on a square of metal next to it.
He quickly walked toward it and noted that there was a button to ring if one wanted to be admitted. So they kept the door locked, he thought.
He took a picture of the doorway and sign. Then he rode the elevator back down and got into the car. He texted the picture to Reed Morris and asked him to find out what he could about the company.
He sat there and wondered why Masuyo would be visiting such a place. What did she have to import or export?
A half hour later, through the glass doors, he saw her exit the elevator. He got out of the car and held the building’s door open for her and then helped Masuyo into the car.
As they drove off he said, “Back home or somewhere else, Mrs. Steers?”
She stared at him in the mirror with more intensity than his simple question warranted, he thought. Something else was clearly going on here.
“Let’s go get a drink. And talk, Dillon.”
“Yes, ma’am. Any place in particular?”
“You pick.”
He drove them to a downtown restaurant that had an outdoor section. At this hour it was pretty much empty. They sat at a table and ordered their drinks. Masuyo had a martini while Nash opted for a tonic and lime.
“Still on duty,” he said to Masuyo, who looked at him with contempt.
“I would think a man as large as you could hold his liquor.”
After their drinks came and they had each taken a sip, Masuyo, who had not taken her eyes off Nash the whole time said, “For some odd reason my daughter has taken a fancy to you. I’m sure you are aware of this, Dillon-san. After all, you are the only one she refers to in that way.”
“Except for Hiroko-san,” he corrected. “And it is an honor for me,” he said casually and he hoped disarmingly. “And keep in mind that I saved her from an assassination attempt. It’s perfectly reasonable that she would be grateful.”
“Why? Because you simply managed to do your job?” she said derisively.
“Gratitude can take many forms.”
“I see that you have chosen to be both evasiveanddeceptive in your responses.”
“I wasn’t aware I was being either,” he replied quietly.
“A man visited my daughter. A very powerful man. The same man that had imprisoned me for all those years.”
“I was aware of his visit. I was not aware that he was connected to the prison.”
“Well, now you are. My daughter made an arrangement with him. I would like to know the details.”
“Surely, you can ask her.”
“You do not know?”
“That is something that your daughter, in her boundless wisdom, would not confide in someone like me, Mrs. Steers.”
Masuyo stared at him for so long that Nash barely managed to maintain eye contact. It was a withering look that seemed to drain all the energy and resolve out of him. He could not imagine having such apersonas a mother.
Or as an enemy. But she surely is an enemy. For both me and her daughter.