Hull’s violent exhale misted in the cold air. He sidestepped the issue, like a do-si-do in a square dance. “Look, Mr. Ambassador, we don’t want war with Japan. And we don’t believe your Emperor truly wants war with us.”
A few pigeons landed by the men’s feet, flapping their dun-colored wings before tucking them under. They began to peck for crumbs. Looking down, Hull smiled.
Nomura smiled, too. “If, Secretary Hull, you would make a concession—even a small one—one I can give to General Tōjō … Even if we can’t get what we want, we Japanese need to—how do you say?—save face.”
“I know this is very hard for you, Mr. Ambassador. I know you’ve offered your resignation many times.”
“Tokyo won’t let me quit.” Nomura watched as the plump pigeons pecked away, squabbling over the biggest pieces. “And today a second ambassador to the U.S. will arrive—Saburō Kurusu. A ‘special envoy.’ ” Nomura’s tone conveyed his distaste.
“Kurusu—he’s the one who signed the Axis Treaty with Italy and Germany.” Hull raised a bushy white eyebrow. “Not a great choice for a country that allegedly wants to avoid war.”
The two men continued to drop crumbs, watching even more birds arrive. “Do you think Kurusu can offer us anything new?” Hull asked.
“I would like to say yes.”
“Always trying to look on the bright side, eh?”
“Sometimes it seems as if it is all that I can do.”
The men sat in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. As the pigeons pecked at the crumbs, tiny black-masked sparrows landed, stealing crumbs out from under the larger, slower birds. Hull chuckled at the pigeons’ indignation.
Nomura stood, brushing crumbs from his coat. “I will see you this afternoon, Mr. Secretary—for the arrival of ‘Special Envoy’ Kurusu?”
Hull rose as well and nodded. “See you this afternoon, Mr. Ambassador.” He smiled and held out a gloved hand. Nomura bowed deeply, then extended his hand. The men shook.
A cold wind picked up, causing the bare tree branches to rustle. Both men pulled down on their hats as they walked away.
Hull turned, calling over his shoulder, “Next time you bring the doughnuts!”
Ambassador Nomura returned directly to his office after his outdoor meeting with Secretary Hull and was drinking tea in his office at the Japanese Embassy—Darjeeling, with both milk and sugar, from a porcelain cup and saucer. He’d eaten most of the still-warm cookies that had also been sent up—chocolate chip, his favorite American sweet.
Although the building was a lavish mansion, furnished with dark, sturdy Victorian furnishings, and the entire staff wore Western-style clothing, there were nods here and there to Japan: paintings, ceremonial swords, and ceramics. There was even a carved wooden turtle from the fifteenth century that Namura kept on his desk and had named Masayoshi—meaning “righteous government and shining goodness.”
Teatime was something he loved—one of the only things in his day he looked forward to anymore—but today he was displeased. The portly man usually had sparkling eyes and a quick grin. But today his eyes were weary; there was no life in his expression.
He took off his round black glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned in to the wireless radio—according to the announcer, his countryman Saburō Kurusu had left San Francisco and would soon be arriving in Washington. The “Special Envoy” mission was seen as a last-ditch chance for peace between the two countries. Nomura turned the wireless off with a loud click.
He picked up the decrypted message that had been sent to him by General Tōjō. He’d read it so many times, the paper had become worn and creased, with a grease stain from a dropped chocolate chip cookie crumb. Conditions both within and without Japan are so tense that no longer is procrastination possible. This is our final effort. The success or failure of the pending discussions will have an immense effect on the destiny of our Empire.
This missive had been followed immediately by two others: Our internal situation makes it impossible for us to make any further compromise … And: Because of various circumstances, it is imperative that all arrangements for the signing of this agreement be completed as soon as possible.
Nomura looked at the calendar on his desk; it was already the end of November. He finished reading the communiqué. I realize that this is a difficult order, but it is unavoidable under the circumstances. Please understand this fully and do your utmost to save Japanese-American relations from falling into a chaotic condition. Do so with great resolve and unstinted labor, I beg of you. This information is to be kept strictly to yourself.