“Ah, yes, always the case.” Meisinger’s drink arrived. He tipped his bulk to raise his glass. “Heil Hitler.”

“Cheers,” said Harry.

“And who would the right people be?” Meisinger asked.

“Anyone but General Tanaka.”

“Who is he?”

Harry tapped Willie’s letter. He laughed, and Meisinger joined in.

“I’m sure we can smooth his feathers,” Meisinger said. “It’s hardly more than a note.”

“That’s a sign.” Harry took his time offering cigarettes. He hummed along with the song. The singing was terrible, but for camaraderie it was hard to beat the Brits. If the piano were a sinking ship, they’d probably still be singing: What’s the use of worrying? It never was worthwhile. It occurred to Harry that if the Japanese were attacking Hawaii, they would attack Singapore at the same time. Alice Beechum was the only person he knew with the intelligence and means to warn Singapore and Pearl.

“A sign of what?” Meisinger finally bit.

“Rank. The higher you are, the less you have to say. Tanaka is at the very top. A letter this brief is polite, but it’s an order. You asked for a check on Iris, and this is your answer.”

“But it’s inadequate. We need much more and in German.”

“You’re in Japan.”

“I will call this Tanaka and explain.”

“A call might settle it, but not from you. It would have to be from someone of equal rank to Tanaka, a German general.”

“The only general at the embassy is Ambassador Ott.”

“Then the ambassador. It looks like Tanaka sent this letter today, Sunday, which is unusual and suggests someone important got to him. That would involve losing face all around. General Tanaka would certainly be very insulted. The army would be offended, too. So, I think you’re right, you should have the ambassador call as soon as possible.”

“Because of this note? Over Oriental rank and face?”

Harry produced a helpless shrug. “It’s Japan.”

“This is preposterous.” Meisinger sank into his chair.

“Is the ambassador busy?”

“On a Sunday evening, Ambassador Ott has recitals of classical music for a few friends. He does not like to be disturbed. I myself have other things to do besides sit and eat cookies with a group of professional dilettantes.”

“You may want to talk to him before the general does. Anyway, I’m sure you’ll come up with a solution.”

Meisinger picked up the letter again, as if he’d suddenly learned Japanese. “This stamp is Tanaka’s?”

“Yes, it’s considered an extension of the general himself. Very important.”

The colonel let the letter drop to the table. “Well, Staub, it seems that you have influential friends.”

“It does,” Willie said.

“So, perhaps this is a matter of ‘when in Rome’…We certainly don’t want to offend our hosts, especially the army, when we are trying to encourage them to cooperate with us. I have no personal objections to Frau Staub joining you. We will even skip the usual procedures. So, everybody’s happy.”

Meisinger pasted on a magnanimous expression; what had just been a vital sticking point was now casually swept away. When the colonel took his leave, Willie and Iris reacted as if a shark had swum around them and moved on.

Harry said, “You’d better go. What you can’t pack in five minutes, leave. Just get to the ship.”

“You knew he was going to let us go?” Willie asked.

“He had to. The man was such an embarrassment in Warsaw that the Gestapo sent him here. If he fouled up in Tokyo, his next stop was the South Pole.”

“When the waiter read the letter, he never mentioned General Tanaka by name, yet you knew it.”

“It’s not a talent I advertise, but I can read upside down. Willie, the Orinoco leaves from Yokohama, and it’s just going to slip into the dark. Go.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Iris said.

“Don’t thank me. You know why else the colonel let you go? He thinks that while he may not be able to stop Iris from boarding the ship, she won’t get past the Gestapo on the other end because of German race laws. That’s after you’ve run fifteen hundred miles of blockade, so don’t thank me, please. If you put in at any neutral ports, say, Lisbon, you might want to let the ship go on without you.”

“We can’t avoid the war. We have to take part.”

“You’re an ant on a dance floor, that’s how you’ll take part.” Harry laid on the letter what looked like two golden calling cards. Tael bars. “Lisbon is a beautiful city.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s something everybody needs.”

“I couldn’t.” Willie pushed the bars toward Harry.

“Willie, we lied and bribed to save people in China. Do you think you’re any better than they were? What do you think, Iris?”

She said, “Maybe it’s a loan.”

“Definitely a loan,” said Harry, who thanked God for women, or else the world would be full of proud men sitting on their thumbs. “I know you’d do the same for me.”

“I am sorry for what I said before.” Willie squeezed Harry’s hand. “Do you have your way out?”

“A smart man always knows where the exit is.”

“You have an exit here?”

“All over.” Harry pulled free. “Don’t play cards with anyone, ever. If you meet anyone who reminds you of me in the least, run the other way. Go.”

As Willie and Iris moved toward the elevator, Harry thought they were just another version of lovers giddily leaping into flames. Sometimes he felt he was the only realist he knew. At the other end of the lobby, Beechum’s party was reaching its own climax of indomitable good cheer, “There’ll always be an England / And England shall be free / If England means as much to you / As England means to me.” No doubt the same words could be heard, Harry thought, in Singapore, Hong Kong and Sydney, wherever Britons shouldered the white man’s burden of ungrateful wogs. The chorus repeated until sentimental tears ran down warm cheeks. Harry wondered how to find Michiko and where to hide from Ishigami. Now that he thought about it, he had needed the gold for himself. And, besides the plane, what exit?

ESPECIALLY AT NIGHT, the hotel looked like an Aztec temple with potted shrubs. As host, Beechum lingered in the driveway by the reflecting pool, making his good-byes of the evening while Alice waited in a car. Harry slid into the dark of the seat behind her.

“Willie and Iris seemed happy when they left,” Alice said.

“I don’t know why. Dodging destroyers to get to Germany is not, to me, a rational decision.”

“Harry, if you were a paragon of reason, you would not be in Beechum’s car nuzzling his wife.”

“But that’s not why I’m here.”

“No?” Alice laughed. “My God, what on earth for, then?”

“The Japanese are raiding Pearl Harbor. I think they’ll attack Singapore at the same time, probably Hong Kong, too.”

“When?”

“Within a day or two.”

Alice twisted the rearview mirror to see Harry. “This is not your area of expertise, is it?”

“No. By the way, did you see any photos in the evening papers?”

“Prime Minister Tojo riding in the park.”

“In tweeds.”

“Jodhpurs.”

“Almost British.”

“Some people at the embassy thought it was a good thing.”

“Did you believe it?” asked Harry.

“No, nor in the tooth fairy. I can’t think of anything more ominous.”

A man ran over to the car to tell Alice that Beechum would be only a minute longer. Harry raised his head when the man was gone. “I hear that the emperor has been studying charts of the Hawaiian Islands.”

“This is all highly circumstantial.” Her eyes fixed him via the mirror. “A Japanese attack may be overdue, but there’s something else, Harry, to make you so sure.”

“There’s been a little pressure on me to verify the missing oil.”

“Not your phony oil?”

“Suddenly it’s an issue. Targets, maybe.”

“How much pressure? Anything physical?”

“Just a touch, but they’re beating an accountant half to death at Sugamo Prison.”