Devil's Gate (NUMA Files 9)

Over Ren’s phone, a voice. “Ren, this is the security team. Do you need something? We’re right outside.”

Ren looked at his father, who stared once more at the piece of metal.

“If not for this man,” Takagawa said, “I would have burned to death thirty years ago when my ship went down. I would never have seen your face. Your mother gave birth to you while I was at sea, and there were no pictures yet.”

Takagawa studied the carbon-charred metal placard. He’d given it to Dirk in thanks for saving his life and others on the crew. He looked at his right hand. Poking out from beneath the cuff was an area of burned and scarred skin, which Dirk knew ran halfway up Takagawa’s arm.

“Is everything okay?”

Ren brought the phone up to his mouth. “Yes,” he said finally. “A false alarm.”

He hung up. Glared at Pitt for a moment, took a breath, and nodded in a bow of respect. “I apologize,” he said.

“A son defending his father is nothing to apologize for,” Dirk said.

Ren Takagawa stood back and pulled out his chair, offering the seat beside his father to Dirk.

“Arigato,” Dirk said, sitting down.

The hedge fund managers and the other members of the party still appeared confused.

“This is highly irregular,” one of them said.

“Please leave us,” Takagawa said gravely. “We have something more important than business to discuss.”

“Look, Haruto,” one of them began. “I don’t know what this is—”

A glance from Takagawa stopped him, and then one by one the group stood and left, some of them muttering under their breaths as they went.

“I’ll talk to them,” Ren said. He followed them out, and the two old acquaintances were left alone.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way,” Dirk said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Takagawa replied.

“You know what I want,” Dirk said.

Takagawa nodded.

“Then why didn’t you just give it to my people?”

For the first time, the wizened old man looked into Dirk’s eyes.

“They came for the manifest,” he said. “I could have given it to them. But I would not do it because it would have misled you. And I was not willing to lie to you.”

“So you gave them nothing,” Dirk said.

Takagawa nodded. “There seemed to me some honor in not being overtly deceptive. If I said nothing, I have not lied. At least you would know to be concerned. But to tell you a falsehood after what you have done for me… I could not do such a thing and face you.”

“Why not just tell me the truth?” Dirk asked.

“My position in Shokara is not absolute,” Takagawa said. “Always there is palace intrigue to be dealt with. To tell you the truth would offend others. Perhaps even expose Shokara to liability. Or sanctions by your government.”

Pitt didn’t blink. He needed answers. At this point the cost to Shokara Shipping did not concern him.

“Haruto,” Dirk said, “three of my people were injured trying to stop the hijacking of your ship. Two more have been attacked since we began investigating, and one of them is now in a coma while his wife prays for him to come back to her. So forgive me for being blunt, but I don’t care what kind of problems it brings. If you’re the man I think you are, then you know it’s time to speak.”

Takagawa looked at the twisted metal nameplate in front of him and then into Dirk’s eyes. He stared long and hard before speaking. “Perhaps you have saved me twice,” he whispered.