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"That is unfortunate, Congresswoman Smith. Speaking for my people, I do not condone such interference as you imply. We merely wish to turn a profit without stepping on toes."
"Yes, we're well aware of Japanese business's blatant selfinterest. The selling of strategic military and computer technology to the Soviet Bloc. To corporate executives like yourself, the Soviet Union, East Germany, Cuba, Iran, and Libya are merely customers."
"International ideological and moral issues do not concern us. To put them ahead of practical matters concerning economic trade makes little sense to our way of thinking."
"One more question," said Loren. "Is it true you have proposed that your government buy the entire State of Hawaii so they can balance United States trade deficits with Japan?"
Tsuboi did not consult with his aides but fired right back. "Yes, I proposed that measure. Japanese people make up the majority of the population of Hawaii, and our business interests now own sixty-two percent of the real estate. I've also suggested that California be turned into a combined economic community shared by Japan and America. We have a vast labor pool we can export, and our capital can build hundreds of manufacturing facilities."
"I find your concepts most distasteful," said Loren, fighting back a rising anger. "The rape of California by the Japanese business community will never happen. Unfortunately, many of Hawaii's residential neighborhoods are already for Japanese only, and a number of resort and golf clubs are off limits to American citizens." Loren paused to stare Tsuboi in the eye, before continuing through tight lips. "I for one am going to fight further encroachment with every means of my office."
A murmur of approval ran through the room. A few hands clapped as Diaz smiled and lightly tapped his gavel for quiet.
"Who is to say what lies in the future." Tsuboi smiled patronizingly. "We do not have a secret plan to take over your government. You have lost the economic game by forfeit."
"If we have lost, it is to corporate body snatchers backed by Kanoya Securities," snapped Loren.
"You Americans must learn to accept the facts. If we buy America, it's because you're selling it."
The few spectators allowed in the session and the numerous congressional aides shuddered at the veiled threat, hostility growing in their eyes. Tsuboi's strange mixture of arrogance and humility, politeness and strength, gave a disturbing and frightening atmosphere to the room.
Diaz's eyes were hard as he leaned over the desk counter toward Tsuboi. "At least there are two benefits for our side in this unhappy situation."
For the first time Tsuboi's expression turned puzzled. "What benefits are you speaking of, Senator?"
"One, step too far and your investments, which are mostly words on paper and computer monitors, will be erased. Two, the ugly American is no more," Diaz said, his voice cold as an Arctic wind. "He's been replaced by the ugly Japanese."
After he le
ft Pitt at the Federal Headquarters Building, Giordino took a cab to the Department of Commerce on Constitution Avenue. Leaning on a friend, who was Assistant Secretary of Domestic and International Business, he borrowed a file on Murmoto auto import inventories. Then he taxied to Alexandria, Virginia. He stopped once to check an address in a phone book. The building he was looking for housed the distributing network of the Murmoto Motor Corporation for a five-state district.
He called the number and asked the operator for directions.
It was late afternoon, and already a chilly breeze of early fall swept through the trees and began tearing away the leaves. The cab stopped at the curb in front of a modern redbrick building with large bronze glass windows. A sign with copper letters on the lawn identified it as the Murmoto Motor Distribution Corp.
Giordino paid off the cabbie and stood for a moment studying the parking lot. It was filled entirely with Murmoto cars. Not one American or European make was in sight. He walked through the double front doors and stopped before a very pretty Japanese receptionist.
"May I help you?" she asked sweetly.
"Albert Giordino, Commerce Department," he answered. "I'd like to talk to someone regarding new car shipments."
She thought for a moment, and then checked a book of personnel. "That would be Mr. Dennis Suhaka, our director of transportation. I'll tell him you wish to see him, Mr. Giordano."
"Giordino, Albert Giordino."
"I'm sorry, thank you."
Less than a minute later a tall, attractive secretary of Asian parentage but with a surgical job to remove the eye folds came out to the lobby and escorted Giordino to Suhaka's office. As he walked down a long, richly carpeted hallway, Giordino was amused at the titles on the doors. No manager, no superintendents, no vice presidents, everyone was a director of something or other.
Suhaka was round and jolly. He wore a grand smile as he came from behind his desk and shook Giordino's hand. "Dennis Suhaka, Mr. Giordino. What can I do for the Commerce Department?"
To Giordino's relief, Suhaka didn't question his unshaven appearance or ask him for identification. "No big deal. Typical bureaucratic paper shuffling for statistical records. My supervisor asked me to stop by on my way home and check the number of cars imported and shipped to your dealers against the figures given by your headquarters in Tokyo."
"For what period of time? We bring in an enormous number of cars."
"The past ninety days."
