LewinskyThe clock on the wall suggested that he should get out and get ready to meet the journalist. He had notions of there being no journalist and that Murtaka had used that as a ruse to get him here, but he had checked, and this was a real media person that he was meeting.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” said the young reporter, with perfect English. Jarrod had met him as planned at the reception and they had settled into a booth in the lobby bar, cocooned in a cane orb, one luxurious seat each side of a beautiful wooden table.
“What can I do for you, Akio?” asked Jarrod, expecting this to be a football interview to cover his short spell in Japan. They had never met, and Jarrod didn’t recognise the name of the publication, nor had taken the time to look it up.
“I would like to run t
