22
Smith rose early, taking a moment to soak in the Tokyo skyline. It was just before dawn, which meant that everything was still lit up, the whole city drenched in neon light.
He stretched, then left the bedroom. He went to the foyer, intent on catching the Wall Street Journal as it was delivered to the hotel room. The paper was already on the hallway table, though.
He made to pick it up, then saw the folded piece of white paper on top. He picked it up, curious. His name was neatly written on the front. He unfolded it, and smiled.
Smith —
If you have some time today, I would like to have your company. I’ll be up until dark.
With admiration,
Sir Charles DuPointer
Smith put the letter aside and picked up the paper, scanning the front page. Charles was an old family friend, had been
