"I wonder if you do," Ishiguro said, interrupting me again. "I insist that you appreciate the position of the Nakamoto company tonight. This is a very significant evening for us, a very publicevening. We are naturally distressed by the prospect that our function might be marred by unfounded allegations of a woman's death, especially this, a woman of no importance . . ."

"A woman of no importance?"

Ishiguro made a dismissing wave. He seemed to be tired of talking to me. "It's obvious, just look at her. She's no better than a common prostitute. I can't imagine how she came to be in this building at all. And for this reason, I strongly protest the intention of Detective Graham to interrogate the guests at the reception downstairs. That's entirely unreasonable. We have many senators, congressmen, and officials of Los Angeles among our guests. Surely you agree that such prominent people will find it awkward—"

I said, "Just a minute. Detective Graham told you he was going to interrogate everybody at the reception?"

"That is what he said to me. Yes."

Now, at last, I began to understand why I'd been called. Graham didn't like the Japanese and he had threatened to spoil their evening. Of course it was never going to happen. There was no way Graham was going to interrogate United States senators, let alone the district attorney or the mayor. Not if he expected to come to work tomorrow. But the Japanese annoyed him, and Graham had decided to annoy them back.

I said to Ishiguro, "We can set up a registration desk downstairs, and your guests can sign out as they leave."

"I am afraid that will be difficult," Ishiguro began, "because surely you will admit– "

"Mr. Ishiguro, that's what we're going to do."