The Miko - 02 Read Online Free PDF

fingernails, lifting the Shinjuku District of downtown Tokyo into the dome of the heavens.
    Tomkin grimaced as he stopped them and, pulling Nicholas close beside him, whispered, “Coming here always reminds me of cod liver oil. When I was a kid my father insisted I take two spoonfuls every morning. He kept telling me it was for my own good, just like he did when he beat me if he found me dumping the stuff down the toilet. Then I’d have to gag on that vile stuff anyway.” He grunted heavily. “Huh, you can eat your raw fish with these barbarians, Nick. I’ve still got the taste of cod liver oil in my mouth.”
    Miss Yoshida led them through a set of wood-paneled doors, the oversized knobs carved into the Sato crest. Down a corridor softly lit by indirect lighting. Edo period ukiyo-e prints by Hiroshige, the master of rain, Hokusai, the master of the countryside, and Kuniyoshi, the master of Japanese myth, hung on the walls. A dove gray carpet was beneath their feet, acting as a damper for the bustle of work going on all around them, drifting out from a multitude of office doorways. Teletypes chattered softly, and in another section a battery of electronic typewriters were going full speed.
    Miss Yoshida stopped them before another set of doors. These were of thick slabs of ash burl fitted together with wide wooden pegs in the traditional Japanese manner. The handles were of roughly worked black wrought iron, reminding Nicholas of the riakon —the inns of the countryside—he had stayed in.
    “Mr. Sato knew you would have a strenuous trip,” Miss Yoshida said. “Such a journey is fatiguing even to the strongest of constitutions. That is why Junior has gone on to the Okura with your luggage. He will see to your rooms.” Her arm raised, her hand held palm upward. It was a simple gesture, yet elegant for all that. “Here you may relax without concern or worry.” Now her cherry blossom lips pursed in a smile. “If you will be so kind as to follow me.”
    Tomkin’s angry voice checked her. “What the hell’s going on here?” His eyes were belligerent. “I didn’t come halfway round the world to scorch my flesh in some sitz bath while the big man goes about his business.” He tapped his black crocodile attach case. “I’ve got a merger to consummate.” He snorted. “This other stuff can wait as far as I’m concerned.”
    Miss Yoshida’s face showed nothing of what she must be feeling. The smile was still on her face and to her credit it had not frozen there. “Mr. Tomkin.” she began, “let me assure you that—”
    “Sato!” Tomkin’s strident voice overrode her quiet controlled tones. “I want to see Sato now. He can’t keep me cooling my heels like some goddamned functionary. Raphael Tomkin waits for no one!”
    “I assure you, Mr. Tomkin, no disrespect is intended,” Miss Yoshida pressed on, struggling to contend with this irrational outburst. “My task is to serve you, to help you relax, to put your mind into the proper frame of—”
    “I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me what my frame of mind is!” Tomkin thundered, taking a step toward her. “Now you get Sato in here or—”
    Nicholas stepped forward, coming between them. He could see that despite herself Miss Yoshida’s face had gone ashen beneath the artful cosmetics. Her hands were shaking.
    “What d’you think you’re doing, Nick?”
    Nicholas ignored Tomkin, using his own powerful frame to move his employer back. At the same time he composed his face, smiling easily, projecting his own relaxation in order to short-circuit the woman’s obvious alarm.
    “Please excuse the gaijin ,” he said in Japanese, not wanting to use Tomkin’s name. “He’s had a long, uncomfortable trip.” He lowered his voice and went on, keeping the pressure on Tomkin as he did so. “The truth is, Miss Yoshida, his piles are bothering him and he’s like a dog who’s sat on a warrior anthill. He snaps at anyone and everyone.” He