Alibi by Sydney Bauer Read Free Book Online Page A

time to attack and time to walk away. Know this, magomusuko , respect all beings around you, and you shall be rewarded.”
    And his grandfather had been right. Observing, respecting and most importantly timing the push for growth was paramount to achieving your goals.
    And that was why the next few months were so important.
    While Nagoshi Inc. had established itself as a world leader in the area of household appliances, home entertainment products, technology software and hardware, and more recently telecommunications, it did not go unnoticed that Japan’s most successful manufacturers were in the business of making cars. John Nagoshi had done what his grandfather had advised—stopped, listened, felt, observed, and now he knew in his heart that this was the time to push forward into the multibillion-dollar world of automobile production. The company was strong, the overheads down, the market ripe for a new alternative—and John Nagoshi, who had spent the past four years waiting for this moment, was on the verge of announcing to the world Nagoshi Inc.’s far-reaching expansion plans.
    He wanted his grandfather’s name emblazoned on the finest automobiles Japan, or indeed the world, had ever produced. He wanted to hand his children—his child —an empire born out of devotion but run with intelligence and sensitivity to both the strengths of capitalism and the basics of solidarity. He also felt it was time he gave the Toyotas, Hondas and Nissans a run for their yen. And so . . .
    If they were to launch their new initiative at the beginning of the year, less than three months from now, they needed to rid themselves of burdens and consolidate their strengths—in matters of business, in matters of life and, in their case, in matters of death. This last thought crossed John Nagoshi’s mind and with it came a wave of disappointment. Jessica’s life had not gone as he planned. The Japanese had always seen mourning as an integral part of life, but he had not had time to grieve his daughter’s passing, and now this acknowledgment of incomple tion sat inside him like a boulder in the middle of a stream. He knew he must allow his spirit to recognize her death, but this was difficult given the demands of his work and the inability of the authorities to identify her killer. His grandfather had taught him patience, but his soul was demanding answers with an ever-increasing fervor.
    “Crookshank was a mistake,” said Peter, refocusing his father’s thoughts on the situation at hand. And in that moment Nagoshi wondered if Peter had not just postponed his own process of grief, but forgotten the obligation to do so.
    “Yes,” said his father, perhaps sensing that applying himself to work was the only way Peter knew of mourning his sister. When his mother passed away, Peter responded by achieving the highest marks possible in his university entrance exams—marks high enough to gain him entry to the highly respected Todai or Tokyo University—an institution he attended briefly before transferring to Deane.
    “Appointing Mr. Crookshank was an error of judgment,” Nagoshi went on, raising his voice over the customary din of honking horns and emergency vehicle sirens as he gazed out upon the sea of yellow taxis, private cars and pedestrians that negotiated the minefield that was midtown Manhattan. “But we agreed at the time that cultural sensitivities warranted us considering a local leader.”
    “We were wrong,” said Peter, gazing out the opposite window at the standstill traffic, a look of pure intolerance on his smooth-skinned face.
    “Yes, segare . But it bought us time. You have graduated magna cum laude. You have my support and my knowledge is yours as always. We keep no secrets, my son. That is how it should be.”
    Peter said nothing, just nodded. “Consolidation has begun then,” he said a few moments later, and John Nagoshi took pride in knowing that he and his offspring breathed as one.
    “Not just