hotel, they had discovered that Mr. Cornwall and his party had

checked out the previous night, when the limousine arrived to pick

them up. The bill had been paid in cash. There had not yet been

time to follow up on the address that Mr. Cornwall had given the

hotel, but it would probably turn out to be a false one. He had given

his occupation as “management consultant.”

“But the hotel staff remembered Cornwall and his party very

well, ” Kitano said. “They described him as being tall, well built,

good-looking, in his forties, very elegantly dressed, blond hair and

beard, tinted glasses, and a British accent. He was traveling with a

party of three. A young girl, American, in her late teens or early

twenties, dark and very pretty. Gave her name as Kira. No last

name. There was a young boy, perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old,

also British, but cockney, working class, not like Mr. Cornwall. One

of those punks with an outlandish hairstyle, short on the sides and

like a horse’s mane in the center, a ponytail down to the middle of

his back. He gave his name as Billy Slade. And the other member of

the party was a young adept who used the magename Wyrdrune.

Mid-twenties, long, curly blond hair, headband, warlock’s cassock.

And he was traveling with an interesting familiar. A talking

broom.”

“A talking broom?” said Akiro.

“Yes, like a kitchen broom, only with arms. But that isn’t the

most interesting part. Guess who was with them when they left?”

“All right, who?”

“Fugisawa.”

Akiro frowned. “Lt. Fugisawa?”

“The very same.”

“Are you certain?”

“He identified himself to the desk clerk. It seems he came to the

hotel to make inquiries about Cornwall and his party and went up

to their rooms. He stayed for perhaps an hour or more then left

with them when they checked out.”

“What the hell? Does Sakahara know this?”

“Not yet. I just got off the phone with the hotel I was about to