Ryūki pushed his hair back and exhaled, “I saw Joji during a wardrobe change. His tattoos are tebori style, the Japanese way, no gun, only wood and metal rods. I saw the designs, one is an Oni Mask, the demon.” Ira handed Ryūki some water.
“What does this all mean Ryūki?”
Ryūki finished his water in a single gulp, “Joji is Yakuza.”
“The Japanese Mafia?” Ira asked.
“Keep your voice down.” Ryūki said, “Yes. They’re horrible people.”
“Where is he now?” Grigsby asked.
“On the rear deck. They’re filming the Dolphin, ping-pong and banana obstacle course.”
Grigsby pounded the table, “Dammit, that’s my favorite obstacle.”
Ryūki walked over toward the small bar Grigsby setup. He opened the humidor and removed a false floor from the bottom. It contained a silver sub-compact revolver.
“Jesus, do you have guns hidden everywhere?” Grigsby asked.
“Take this,” Ryūki said, handing Grigsby the gun.
“I’m not John Wilkes Booth,”
Grigsby pocketed the gun and looked at Ira. “I thought you vetted this guy?”
Ira was staring at the small TV screen watching the contestants catch ping pong balls shot out by Dolphins.
“Sorry, yes we vetted him. Clearly it’s a pseudonym. And the Tokyo investors we’re tied up with must also be connected with the Yakuza.”
“Terrific, I got a flamboyant Tony Soprano running my game show.” Grigsby stood and looked at the TV. The contestants were now inside a plastic tank that was gushing with seawater and they’re trying to stuff bananas in the holes to prevent themselves from drowning. “What a mess.”
Ira looked at Ryūki, “What should we do?”
Ryūki considered this in silence for a long time, “We wait. Study him and when the time’s right, we’ll strike.”