Kasigi’s face closed. “Were you present at this meeting?” “No - but he told me what he had said, that Gyokotomo-sama accepted the report and said that he himself would take it up to the highest level, in Tehran and at home in Japan. But nothing happened, Kasigi-san. Nothing.”
“Where is the copy of the report?”
“There isn’t one. The next day, before he left for Tehran, Gyokotomo ordered them destroyed.” Again the older man shrugged. “Chief Engineer Kasusaka’s job, and mine, was and is to get the refinery built, whatever the problems, and not to interfere with the working of the Syndicate.” Watanabe lit a fresh cigarette from the half-smoked cigarette, inhaled deeply, stubbed the other out delicately, wanting to smash it and the ashtray and the desk and the building and the plant to smithereens - along with this interloper Kasigi who dared to question him, who knew nothing, had never worked in Iran, and had his position in the company because he was kinsman to the Todas. “Unlike Chief Engineer Kasusaka” he added oh so gently, “over the years I have kept copies of my monthly reports.”
“So ka?” Kasigi said, trying to sound matter-of-fact.
“Yes,” Watanabe said. And copies of these copies in a very safe place, he thought grimly in his most secret heart, taking a thick file from his briefcase and putting it on the desk, just in case you’ll try to make me responsible for the failures. “You may read them if you wish.” “Thank you.” With an effort Kasigi resisted the temptation to grab the file at once.
Watanabe rubbed his face tiredly. He had been up most of the night preparing for this meeting. “Once we’re back to normal, work will progress quickly. We are 80 percent complete. I’m confident we can complete with the right planning - it’s all in my reports, including the matter of the Kasusaka meeting with the partners, and then with Gyokotomo-sama.” “What do you suggest as an overall solution to Iran-Toda?” “There isn’t one until we’re back to normal.”
“We are now. You heard the broadcast.”
“I heard it, Kasigi-san, but normal for me means when the Bazargan government’s in full control.”
“That will happen within days. Your solution?”
“The solution is simple: get fresh partners who cooperate, arrange the financing we need, and within a year, less than a year, we’ll be producing.” “Can the partners be changed?”
Watanabe’s voice became as thin as his lips. “The old ones were all court-appointed, or approved, therefore Shah men, therefore suspect and enemies. We haven’t seen one since Khomeini returned, or heard from one. We’ve heard rumors they’ve all fled but…” Watanabe shrugged his great shoulders. “I’ve no way of checking with no telex, no phones, no transport. I doubt if the new ‘partners’ will be different in attitude.”
Kasigi nodded and glanced back out the window, seeing nothing. Easy to blame Iranians and dead men and secret meetings and destroyed reports. Never had Chairman Yoshi Gyokotomo mentioned any meeting with Kasusaka or any written report. Why should Gyokotomo bury such a vital report? Ridiculous because he and his company are equally at risk as ours. Why? If Watanabe’s telling the truth and his own reports could prove it, why?
Then, for an instant that Watanabe noticed, Kasigi’s face fell to pieces as the answer came to him: because the immense overrun and management failure of the Iran-Toda complex, added to the disastrous slump in world shipping, will break Toda Shipping Industries, will break Hiro Toda personally and lay us open to a takeover! Takeover by whom? Of course by Yoshi Gyokotomo. Of course by that jumped-up peasant family who has hated us who are highborn, samurai-descended from ancient tim - Then again Kasigi felt as though his brain was going to explode: Of course by Yoshi Gyokotomo but aided and abetted of course by our arch rivals, Mitsuwari Industries! Oh, Gyokotomo’ll lose a fortune but they can sustain their portion of the loss while they grease the correct palms suggesting that they will jointly absorb Toda’s losses, dismember it, and with the benevolence of MITI put it under proper management. With the Todas will go their kinsmen: the Kasigis and the Kayamas. I might as well be dead. Ohko!
And now I am the one who has to bring back the terrible news. Watanabe’s reports will prove nothing, for of course Gyokotomo will deny everything, damning me for trying to accuse him and will shout from the rooftops that the Watanabe reports prove conclusively Hiro Toda’s mismanagement for years. So I’m in trouble either way. Perhaps it was Hiro Toda’s plan to put me in the middle of this mess! Perhaps he wants to replace me with one of his brothers or neph - At that moment there was a knock and the door burst open. Watanabe’s distraught young assistant came in hurriedly, apologizing profusely for disturbing them. “Oh, so sorry, Watanabe-san, oh, yes, so sorr - ” “What is it?” Watanabe said, bringing him up short.
“A komiteh is arriving in strength, Watanabe-san, Kasigi-sama! Look!” The white-faced young man pointed at the other windows that fronted the building.
Kasigi was there first. In front of the main door was a truck filled with revolutionaries, other trucks and cars following. Men jumped out of them, began to collect in haphazard groups.
Scragger was approaching and they saw him stop, then go on again toward the main door, but he was waved away as a big Mercedes drove up. Out of its back came a heavyset man in black robes and a black turban with a white beard, accompanied by another much younger man, mustached, dressed in light clothes with an open-neck shirt. Both wore glasses. Watanabe sucked in his breath. “Who are they?” Kasigi asked.
“I don’t know, but an ayatollah means trouble. Mullahs wear white turbans, ayatollahs wear black.” Surrounded by half a dozen guards the two men strode into the building. “Bring them up here, Takeo, ceremoniously.” The young man rushed off at once. “We’ve only had one visit by an ayatollah, last year, just after the Abadan fire. He called a meeting of all our Iranian staff, harangued them for three minutes, then in the name of Khomeini ordered them to strike.” His face settled into a mask. “That was the beginning of our trouble here - we expatriates have carried on as best we could ever since.” “What now?” Kasigi asked.
Watanabe shrugged, strode over to a bureau, and lifted up a framed photo of Khomeini that Kasigi had not noticed and hung it on the wall. “Just for politeness,” he said with a sardonic smile. “Shall we sit down? They expect formality from us - please take the head of the table.”
“No, Watanabe-san. Please, you are in charge. I am only a visitor.” “As you wish.” Watanabe took his usual seat, and faced the door. Kasigi broke the silence. “What was that about the Abadan fire?” “Ah, sorry,” Watanabe said apologetically, actually disgusted that Kasigi did not know about that most important event. “It was last August, during their holy month of Ramadan when no Believer may take food or drink from sunup to sunset and tempers are normally thin. At that time there was only a small amount of national protest against the Shah, mostly in Tehran and Qom, but nothing serious then and the clashes easily contained by police and SAVAK. On August fifteenth arsonists set fire to a movie house, the Rex Cinema in Abadan. All the doors ‘happened’ to be locked or jammed, firemen and police ‘happened’ to be slow arriving, and in the panic almost five hundred died, mostly women and children.”
“How terrible!”
“Yes. The whole nation was outraged. Instantly SAVAK was blamed, and therefore the Shah, the Shah blamed leftists and swore the police and SAVAK had nothing to do with it. Of course he set up an inquiry which went on for weeks. Unfortunately it left the question of responsibility unresolved.” Watanabe was listening for the sound of footsteps. “That was the spark that united the warring opposing factions under Khomeini and tore the Pahlavis from their throne.”