Hang on, everybody, this is very out of line.

That's when I decided

to slip it into my briefcase.
When Mori saw Tam come in, she quickly stacked the printouts she
was reviewing into a neat pile, then beckoned her toward the far corner
of the floor. Tam noticed that Mori's new office was at the opposite end
of the building from Noda's.
"I understand Noda-san has appointed you director of this
division." Mori was ushering Tam into the office, all the while running
her fingers nervously through her sculptured black hair.
"Congratulations."
Not exactly a great opener. It sounded even harsher in Japanese,
since it was so at odds with the usual polite greetings.
"I've been hired to do a job, Mori-san, and I intend to do
it."
"So desu ne," Mori concurred in Japanese, her voice a trifle strained.
Tam thought she looked a bit bleary-eyed after her flight in from Tokyo,
but there were no half measures about the woman. She was all business
in a prim silk suit shading to gray with a bright blue scarf tied at the
neck. She wore high heels, but they didn't slow her brisk stride as she
paced around her desk. "I am sure you will do it well. I would like you
to know I am prepared to assist you at every step."
Well, Tam had a pretty clear idea of how she intended to proceed,
which didn't really include a lot of assistance from Akira Mori. What
exactly had Noda been telling this woman? Maybe, she mused, Mori-san
just hadn't been fully brought up to speed.
"I noticed that you're reviewing our analytical sheets." Tam
continued, "Those are the firms we're going to start restructuring first."
"And if you do not receive the desired cooperation? What will you
do then?" Mori asked evenly, as though she didn't already know the
answer.
"We'll just keep up stock acquisition till we have whatever we need.
Also, I intend to appoint a representative to sit on the board of directors,
to monitor performance and make sure our program is implemented."
"That is my understanding as well." Mori went on, "And concerning
the matter of who will be assigned—"
"I've just finished putting together a list of management experts.
They're dedicated people. Most of them will probably help us for a small
honorarium instead of their usual consulting fees."
"These personnel are an area I wish to discuss with you," Mori
pushed ahead, almost as though not listening. That was when Tam
realized she was finally getting around to the real agenda of the meeting.
"It is our opinion that, at this stage, the heavy involvement of Americans
in that capacity would be counterproductive."
"'Our opinion'?" Tam didn't like the sound of this. "Who exactly is
'our'?"
"I have reviewed Dai Nippon's program in some detail with . . . the
interested parties in Tokyo." Mori appeared to be making an
announcement. "They have concurred that at this stage it would be
more efficient if we assigned our own specialists to assist in the
management of these companies."
"Your own specialists?" Now Tam was starting to bristle. "Just
whom do you have in mind?"
"Industrial experts such as Kenji Asano, for example, may be
involved." She continued, "We have a great reservoir of talent to choose
from, particularly within the Ministry of International Trade and
Industry."
"MITI?" Tarn stared at her, dumbfounded. She couldn't believe her
own ears. That was like calling in a fox to fortify your henhouse. "You've
got to be joking."
"The decision was made last week." Mori fixed her coldly. "Noda-
san has been informed, and he finds the suggestion . . . acceptable."
"Well, I don't," Tam flared. "It's outrageous."
"There is something you must understand, Dr. Richardson," Mori
continued in Japanese. "The management of a company should
represent its ownership. Since Dai Nippon will be holding what
amounts to a controlling interest in these firms, we are obliged to assist
them using whatever international specialists we feel are most qualified
to contribute. For now we believe that the expertise in our Ministry of
International Trade and Industry is most appropriate since it has guided
corporate growth in Japan for many years with undeniable success."
"That's irrelevant." Tam steamed. "First, most MITI executives don't
necessarily understand American business. And second, MITI has no
right involving itself in the operation of our industry. It's a flagrant
conflict of interest."
"There I must disagree with you. On your first point, many Japanese
firms have been manufacturing here and have an excellent record of
labor relations and management success. As to your second point, using
specialists trained by MITI is simply the most efficient way to transfer
Japanese expertise."
"It won't be allowed."
 "Why shouldn't it be? Any people we bring here will be on leave of
absence. Hence they will no longer have any official ties to the Japanese
government. No law prevents us from appointing whomever we wish."
Ouch, Tam thought. She's right. Nothing could stop Dai Nippon
from restructuring the boards of directors of the companies in which it
held a voting majority of shares. In fact, several Japanese firms had
already taken over and reopened the manufacturing facilities of some of
the very companies MITI's "targeting" had decked only a few years
before, bringing in Japanese board members as part of the deal. What's
more, Americans loved it. Governors were falling over themselves to
attract Japanese joint ventures to their states.
"Does Noda-san understand the significance of bringing in MITI
personnel?"
"There are many interests to be addressed . . ."
At this point I wandered in, together with Noda, to talk about
setting up a meeting that afternoon. We'd been reviewing DNI's plans
for a new program of real estate investment and construction, part of
expanding the research or manufacturing facilities of the firms it was
now in the process of absorbing.
I passed a pleasantry with Tam, then studied her, puzzled. "You
look a little distressed this morning."
"I'm receiving an update on a change in our program." Tam glared
back at Mori, then turned to Noda. "What's this about bringing in
people from MITI?"
Noda smiled, but he looked a trifle uncomfortable. "Think of it as a
temporary measure." He nodded toward Mori, then looked back at Tam.
"We always like to operate by consensus. And that consensus among the
fund managers who have joined us appears to be that our investments
should initially be monitored by our own people."
"I thought this office was going to be in charge of determining who
our people would be, not somebody in MITI." Tam fixed him coldly,
then turned on me. "Did you know anything about this?"
"Bringing in honchos from MITI? News to me." I examined Noda. "I
understood the management end of this was going to be directed by Dr.
Richardson."
He was smiling again. "But it will be. She will continue to meet with
the CEOs of the firms we intend to assist to provide our preliminary
analysis of their operations, and she will be with us every step we take."
 "It hardly sounds that way." Tam was boiling. "The way it looks
now, I set up a reorganization plan, then MITI's people come in and
take over."
"Merely for consultation, Dr. Richardson. I assure you." He glanced
uncomfortably at Mori-san. Both Tam and I had the same hunch at that
point: Noda's backers had started to get a little edgy about his
investments, so they'd decided to send in some brass from the Delta
Force to keep an eye on things. But you'd never have suspected that as
he continued, "Dr. Richardson, surely you must be aware that MITI
personnel are not in the habit of, as you phrase it, 'taking over.' At most
MITI merely recommends policies to enhance competitiveness.
Furthermore, the individuals we will engage will no longer be associated
with MITI. They will merely be specialists in our hire. Their
participation will be extremely beneficial, please believe me."
"If making decisions like this is your idea of consensus, then I don't
think much of it." Tam was getting increasingly wound up. "And I'll tell
you something else. I intend to review the government connections of
anyone you bring in. I'm going to have final say."
"We all want to work together," Noda continued smoothly. "Our
plans are continuing to evolve. Of course I will insist on full American-
Japanese coordination and cooperation at every stage." He looked
squarely at Tam. "You have my word."
She glanced over at me, trying her best to keep cool. I was toying
with my papers, still posing as a neutral observer, but I was equally
puzzled. Why would Japan's Ministry of International Trade and
Industry let its people be used to assist American companies? Okay,
MITI's elite technocrats were probably the cream of Japan's management
talent, but they already had their hands full.
More to the point, given MITI's sorry history of rule bending and
economic guerrilla warfare, why would it now cooperate in Dai
Nippon's plan to restructure the high-tech segment of U.S.
manufacturing? I asked Noda point-blank.
"Mr. Walton, if you choose to see Japan and the U.S. as
competitors, then I suppose you could regard this as our ancient
tradition of 'giving salt to the enemy.'" He smiled awkwardly.
Bullshit. That's what I thought, not what I said, which was nothing.
Tam in the meantime had her own question to chew on. Mori had
mentioned Ken Asano. Was he involved too? Since Mori had specifically
named him as being on the MITI team that she or somebody now
planned to enlist, was this a tip-off that Ken was in with them up to his
neck? Was this the "trust" he'd talked about?
Since Tam looked as if she was getting ready to resign on the spot, I
figured a little cooling-off time for everybody might be in order.
"Dr. Richardson, if we're about through here, could you help me a
minute?" I thumbed toward the open door. "Tanaka wants you to
approve the final setup for the partitions."
I quickly discovered I was wrong about the idea she would quit. As
we worked our way past the computer terminals and stacks of printouts,
retreating toward the center of the floor, she declared war. "MITI or
Mori or whoever's behind this is going to have a fight on their hands.
We don't need them involved."
"Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think we're being kept in
the dark about a lot of what's cooking." I kept my voice low, scarcely
above a whisper, as the Japanese staff milled in and out. "There's a sheet
of paper in my briefcase that I'd like to go over with you. Yet another
example of the curious new developments around this place."
She poured herself a cup of green tea from the large urn stationed in
the middle of the floor. "What do you mean?"
"We'll talk about it later." I poured some tea for myself. "I think
something's gone haywire."
That startled her, and she began to tune in. "Things are pretty
haywire now."
"This may be even worse. I came across something a while ago that
doesn't add up." I looked at her. "I think we ought to talk about it."
"Now?"
"Not here. How about tonight?"
"Can't. There's a damned faculty dinner I have to attend."
"Then tomorrow night?"
"Where?"
"What would you say to my place downtown? I think you live right
around the corner from me."
"This has to be strictly business, Matt."
"Guaranteed." I raised my palm.
"Well, I've got a lot of work—"
"Shall we make it for seven?" I was handing her my card, address
and number thereon. "The cocktail hour?"
She was still glaring at Mori's office as she absently took it. "Well . .
. all right." She glanced back. "Seven."
"See you there."
 . . . Jack O'Donnell's speech, to be delivered to the Senate that
Tuesday, sort of slipped to the back of my mind. Maybe it shouldn't
have. After getting back to his office that afternoon he dictated about
three versions before he had it the way he wanted it. Friday morning he
messengered a copy down to my office, and I can tell you it was a
beauty. He'd got it all, and he'd got it right.
Later Friday, however, he received a phone call from Matsuo Noda.
After the usual preliminaries, saying how much he'd enjoyed their
meeting, Mr. Noda confided he was calling as a personal favor to the
senator, since they'd hit it off so well the previous day. Turns out he'd
just been talking to the CEOs of various Japanese outfits scheduled to
set up manufacturing operations in some of the "rust-belt" mill towns in
upstate New York. Here was the distressing development: seems they
were all of a sudden taking another look at sunny Tennessee. The
problem was, they were upset by the anti-Japanese tone a lot of New
York publications were taking these days—Japan bashing in the Times
editorial pages, things like that. Noda, however, felt all this was very
shortsighted of those Japanese investors; and he wondered if Senator
O'Donnell would like him to put in a word for the Empire State. Pause.
He hated to mention this, but people were even talking of closing
certain Japanese-operated factories already in place, such as that big one
in Elmira, Jack's hometown, and moving them south. But he thought
threats such as that were very impolite and he was hoping he could find
time to straighten the whole thing out.
Like I said, it would have been a hell of a speech.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN

That Saturday turned out to be the day when winter descended

abruptly and with rare vengeance. Remember we're only talking mid-
December, still a dozen full shopping days till you know what, but it
could have been the depths of January. After things kicked off with what
seemed a foot of snow around three, the elements really started to
unload. Everything from sleet in historic proportions to a wind-chill that
would have frosted the horns off a Bexar County billy goat.
While I waited for Tam, I battened down the garden, covered the
outdoor furniture, and prudently provisioned the larder with a flagon of
Remy antifreeze. Ben in the meantime was lumbering around
downstairs, eyeing the snow-covered garden with an air of
disgruntlement. The universe had turned unacceptable, something he
never greeted with equanimity. I decided to try and divert his misery by
hauling him up on the long Country French dining table and combing
some of the knots out of his shag. When that merely reinforced his
overall gloom, however, I called it quits, located a consoling rawhide
stick for him to gnaw, and poured a brandy. It was along about then,
shortly after nightfall, that Tam finally appeared.
A cab with snow chains dropped her off (she'd come directly from
the office, which Noda had just shut down for the weekend), and I
helped her navigate the sleet-covered steps. I got the immediate sense
that her first impression of my living quarters was unchanged from the
old days. In spite of all the art, armor, and antiques, the place had a
poignant rootlessness about it. Boys like toys; they just get more
expensive as the bank account grows. Also, since she'd been in the man
game long enough to spot a divorce-rebound case a mile off, she
probably had me figured from the start: part of that army of emotional
paraplegics in our feckless day and age.
After the MITI twist, however, I suppose she was ready to consult
with somebody concerning the direction things were headed. I warmly
invited her downstairs to the sisal-carpeted den just off the garden and
dumped some logs in the fireplace. Next I pulled out a few discs—
Mendelssohn seemed about right for some reason—and offered to whip
up a batch of margaritas. 'Twould be, I dared to hope, a long winter's
eve. Alas, she said no thanks, a club soda and lime would do fine.
Looked as if I would be working barehanded, without aid of that
universal socializer, distilled spirit, so I rustled up a Perrier, then poured
another snifter of brandy for myself.
Since she appeared exhausted, my first suggestion was she kick off
her shoes and get comfortable. No argument.
After settling in, shoes off and feet to the fire, she announced she
was ready to hear what I'd come up with.
Before an awkward silence could grow, I snapped open my
briefcase.
"Dr. Richardson, in keeping with the ground rule that this is a
formal business meeting, let me introduce my first agenda item." I
flashed her my best smile, then pulled out the purloined page. "This is
part of the paperwork Mori seems to have brought with her. I don't
understand too well what it's all about, but my first impression is that
somebody has decided to do some major tinkering with your program.
Take a look at this and give me an opinion." I passed it over.
She glanced down, then back at me. "Are you supposed to be
bringing DNI documents home?"
That was her first reaction, swear to God.
"Look, this just accidentally got in with some of my photocopies.
All it is is a list of companies. And I didn't want to talk about it there in