Read Online Hard Rain by Barry Eisler - Free Book Online Page A

occasionally
    remember to resist the urge.
    It didn't matter. There were too many oddities surrounding the disk's
    disposition and my disappearance, and she was too smart to miss them.
    I'd spent a lot of time thinking about it over the last year or so, and
    I knew the way she would see it.
    After what had happened between us, the doubts would have started
    small. But there would have been nothing to check their growth. After
    all, she would think, the contents of the disk were never published.
    That was Tatsu's doing, not mine, but she would have no way of knowing
    that. All she would know was that her father's last wishes were never
    carried out, that his death was ultimately futile. She would wonder
    again how I had known where to find that disk in Shibuya, go over my
    previous explanations, find them wanting. That would have led her to
    start thinking about the timing of my appearance, so soon after her
    father's death.
    And she knew I was part of something subterranean, although she never
    knew exactly what. The CIA? One of the Japanese political factions?
    Regardless, an organization that had the resources to fake a death and
    backstop it reasonably effectively.
    Yeah, with all these loose threads, and without me there to reassure
    her that what happened between us had been real, I knew that,
    eventually, she would conclude that she had been used. That's how I
    would see it, in her shoes.
    Maybe the sex was just opportunistic for him, she would think. Sure,
    why not, might as well have a little fun while I'm using her to get the
    disk. And then "I'll just disappear afterward, after I've tricked her
    into cooperating. She wouldn't want to believe all this, but she
    wouldn't be able to shake the feeling. And she wouldn't want to
    believe that I might actually have been involved in some way in her
    father's death, but she wouldn't be able to let that suspicion go,
    either.
    "Did I handle it right?" Harry asked.
    I shrugged. "You couldn't have handled it any better than you did. But
    she's still not buying it."
    "You think she'll let it go?"
    That was the question I was always left with. I hadn't managed to
    answer it. "I don't know," I told him.
    And there was something else I didn't know, something I wouldn't share
    with Harry. I didn't know if I wanted her to let it go.
    What had I just told him? You can't live with one foot in daylight and
    the other in shadows. I needed to take my own damn advice.
    Four.
    I saw Harry off around one. The subways were already closed and he
    caught a cab. He told me he was going home to wait for Yukiko.
    I tried to picture a beautiful young hostess, pulling down the yen
    equivalent of a thousand dollars a night in tips in one of Tokyo's
    exclusive establishments, with her pick of wealthy businessmen and
    politicians for paramours, hurrying home to Harry's apartment after
    work. I just couldn't see it.
    Don't be so cynical, I thought.
    But my gut wasn't buying it, and I've learned to trust my gut.
    It's still early. Just take a look. It's practically on the way to
    the hotel.
    If Harry had changed his mind about going home and had gone to Damask
    Rose instead, though, he'd know I was checking up on him. He might not
    be surprised, but he wouldn't like it, either.
    But the chances that Harry would stop by there on his own dime, when
    Yukiko was due to come to his place in just a few hours anyway, were
    slim. The risk was worth taking.
    And Nogizaka was only a few kilometers away. What the hell.
    I tried directory assistance from a public phone, but there was no
    listing for a Damask Rose. Well, Harry had said they didn't
    advertise.
    Still, I could just go and have a look.
    I walked the short distance to Nogizaka, then strolled up and down
    Gaienhigashi-dori until I found the club. It took a while, but I
    finally spotted it. There was no sign, only a small red rose on a
    black awning.
    The entrance was flanked by two black men, each of sufficient bulk to
    have, been at home in the sumo pit.