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anite； the difference was appalling。 'What do you want with my daughter； Mr Linnear？' His voice was like the crack of a whip。 Nicholas wondered what it would be like growing up under that fierce domination； he did not envy Justine。
'What does any man want with a woman？' he said。 'Only that； Mr Tomkin。 Nothing more。'
Out of the corner of his eye he felt the movement of blue…suit even before it came into his line of vision。 He relaxed； now was not the time。 The big beefy hands were at his shirtfront。 Some of the drink slopped over the side of the glass； ran down his trouser leg； Nicholas supposed that this man would have little trouble in picking up his side of a grand piano。 While the man held him from in front； Tomkin leaned over。 That's not very smart；' he said。 His tone had changed again； as quickly and pletely as a chameleon switches colour。 It was now steel covered thinly by velvet。 'In any event； Justine is no ordinary woman。 She's my daughter。'
'Is this how you handled Chris in San Francisco？' Nicholas said。
Tomkin was quite still for a moment； it was a breathless time。 Then； without turning his head from Nicholas； he made a small gesture and blue…suit let go his grip。 Without a backward glance he pulled himself into the front of the limo and closed the partition。 He turned to look through the windshield。
'So that's how it is；' Tomkin said when they were alone。 'Interesting。' He eyed Nicholas。 'My daughter must like you。' Then his tone turned acid。 'Either that or you're a hell of a good lay。 She hasn't been with any man for more than two hours since I brought her back。 That's a long time for a girl of her age。' Then； as an afterthought； he said； 'She's got problems。'
'Everyone's got problems； Mr Tomkin；' Nicholas said drily。 'Even you。' As soon as he had said it； he regretted opening his mouth。 His anger had caused that： not a good sign。
Tomkin sat back； sinking into the cushions。 He squinted at Nicholas。 'You're an odd one。 I do a hell of a lot of business with the Japs； even go over there three； four times a year。
Never met anyone there like you。'
'I imagine that's a pliment。'
Tomkin shrugged。 'Take it any way you like。' He leaned forward； depressed a hidden stud； and a small desk swivelled out on his side； plete with a miniature gooseneck lamp。 Behind the desk was an accordion partment built into the seat。 Tomkin dipped a hand into this； extracted a sheet of paper。 It was folded once across its width。 He handed it to Nicholas。 'Here；' he said； 'what do you make of this？'
It was a sheet of Japanese rice paper； very fine。 Nicholas unfolded it carefully。 On it was a symbol； brushed on the centre with black ink。 There were nine'small diamonds surrounding a large circle like satellites about a sun。 Inside the centre circle was the Japanese ideogram for tymuso； the beggar…ascetic。
'Well？' Tomkin demanded。 'Do you know what it is？'
'Tell me how you got this。' Nicholas lifted his gaze from the crest； saw that those cold blue eyes were clouded with a kind of held…in anxiety。
'It came in the pouch。' And when he saw Nicholas looking at him unprehendingly； he added； somewhat irritably； 'The pouch from Japan。 Each of our foreign offices has a daily pouch for important messages； when phones are inconvenient or insufficient for relaying data。 At first I thought it was some kind of a joke but now 。。。〃 He shrugged。 'Tell me what it is。'
'It's a crest；' Nicholas said simply。 He handed the sheet back to Tomkin； but he would not take it so Nicholas slid it onto the desk。 'A crest for a ninja ryu … a school。' He took a deep breath； weighing his next words carefully； but before he could open his mouth Tomkin was hammering at the smoked…glass partition。 Blue…suit turned his head and a part of the glass opened。 'Frank； I want to go to the tower。'
'But； Mr Tomkin …'
'Now； Frank。'
Frank nodded； closed the partition。 Nicholas could see him talking to the driver。 The limo turned at the next corner； heading east。 When they came to Park Avenue South； they made a left； headed north。
Next to Nicholas； Tomkin eyed the folded rice paper as if something inside it had e to startling life。
Detective Lieutenant Croaker was not happy as he left Captain Finnigan's office early that morning。 In point of fact he was on the verge of boiling over。 He strode down the fluorescent…lighted corridor； crowded with officers and clerks； in long athletic strides。
'Hey； Lew； wait till I …' But Croaker had already brushed past the sergeant without noticing him and the man shrugged； turned away。 Croaker could be like that sometimes and it was best then to stay out of his way。
Reaching his frosted…glass…fronted office； Croaker swung in and pounded his fists against the laminated Formica desktop。 Many was the time he had tried to burn holes in the thing with the end of his cigarette。 To no avail。 That was modern science for you。
He crashed down into the dark green swivel chair。 He stared fixedly at the frosted…glass partition but what he was really seeing was Finnigan's fat mick face； those soft dewy blue eyes staring up at him blankly。
'I want to make this very plain to you； Croaker；' the Captain had said。 'The Didion case is a closed book。' He raised his pudgy hands in front of his face； warding off Croaker's expected protests。 'I know； I know； I put you on it myself。 But that was when I thought we could see some quick results。 Everyone from the mayor down was howling for a quick arrest。 Then the media jumped all over it； you know what they can do。' His hands came down； lying flat on his desktop。 Croaker thought they looked like hams ripe for roasting。 'You know as well as I do the kind of people who live at the Actium House。 People like Cardin and Calvin Klein don't like that kind of thing happening where they live。 There was an awful lot of pressure。'
Croaker closed his eyes for a moment； counting slowly； one…Mississippi； two…Mississippi； just as he had done when playing football on the streets of Manhattan's Hell's Kitchen when he was a kid。 It was either that or belt Finnigan on his fat red nose。 His eyes snapped open； they saw the Captain leaning back in his high…backed chair； his hands； fingers interlaced； sitting atop his ample stomach。 Croaker wondered how many whiskies the old man had already downed。 Inadvertently； he glanced at the spot where the lower right…hand drawer was； where the bottle always lay within easy reach。 His gaze swung back to Finnigan's red…veined face。 His eyes seemed even more faded in the soft early morning light filtering through the closed shades。 Outside； the towers of lower Manhattan rose like blocky giants。
'I know all about that pressure； Captain。' His tone revealed none of his hidden emotion。 'I've lived with that ever since I joined the force ten years ago。 What I don't understand is this sudden switch； this about…face。'
'You weren't getting anywhere；' Finnigan said equably。 'I pulled the plug； that's all。'
'Bull！ That's a load of…'
'Don't start this with me； Lieutenant。' Finnigan's eyes blazed and a thin line of spittle glistened on his protruding lower lip。 'I'm in no mood for any of your grandstanding。' He sat up； leaning forward； and now his small eyes seemed mean and bitter and altogether merciless。 'You may enjoy a great reputation with the press。 I allow that because it's good for the department as a whole； the public responds well to one name； one face。 But don't you ever think that that gives you any special privileges in here or out there。' His enormous thumb hooked back over his shoulder； indicating the streets of the city。 'I'm onto your little game and it gets no points with me。 You love that attention； the media play。 You eat it up like a glutton。 But that's okay； that I can handle。 What I won't tolerate is you treating me as if I'm some kind of idiot； some kind of moral defective。' He saw the look on the other's face； jumped on it。 'Yeah； that's right： moral defective。 You been on the force more than long enough to know the reason why some investigation or other gets snuffed。 Someone high up 〃requested〃 it。 Okay？ So now I've spelled it out for you。' His face was red now and the wattles beside his mouth were quivering。 'Believe me； I have tho