Pacific Poison

by David Liscio

  Krill returned to the kitchen to serve the next course of fish soup and rice porridge. She left the door open and listened to Tanaka enthusiastically answering questions. She wondered if the man realized he was being pumped for information or whether his ego had clouded his senses. Tanaka had poured more wine. Krill thought she heard him slurring his words.

  “The United States thinks their FBI and CIA are unstoppable, that they can go wherever and whenever they want without fear. Well, the yakuza have shown them differently.”

  “What do you mean? Who could possibly touch the CIA? In Argentina we have secret police, but only to keep order in our country.”

  “There was a rumor circulating only a few months ago that two CIA agents were killed by the yakuza in Tokyo.”

  “Was it true?”

  “Who can say? Perhaps it was just a tale that others found worth repeating, the bragging of some kobun who drank too much sake.”

  “In the tale you were told, what were those agents doing that was so offensive?”

  “Again, only rumor. I heard they were meddling in affairs that should not have concerned them,” said Tanaka, his thoughts wandering back to the night the CIA officers were caught off guard. He could still hear the woman’s screams as they boarded the speedboat tied to the darkened dock.

  “Can you give me an example?”

  “You ask a lot of questions,” he said with a sparkle in his eyes. “Maybe that’s what they were doing. Asking too many questions.”

  Hannah pretended she felt threatened, slightly parting her lips and opening her eyes widely. “I guess I should stop asking you questions. I don’t want to end up like those CIA agents.”

  Tanaka chuckled. “No harm will ever come to you as long as you are a guest in my home.”

  Hannah smiled. “That’s reassuring. I was starting to imagine you murdering people.”

  Tanaka guzzled his glass of champagne. “It would require good reason, such as violating the bushido.”

  “Have people done that? I mean, dishonored you or been disloyal?”

  “Unfortunately, yes, it has happened.”

  “What did you do?”

  Tanaka momentarily became lost in thought, the champagne coursing through his bloodstream. He gazed at Hannah as though contemplating how much he should tell her. He wanted her to know he was a killer, capable of taking a life at any moment, but the warning lights were going off in his head. Be careful what you tell her. She may be beautiful, but she’s a stranger.

  “When you are betrayed by close friends, that is the worst kind of disloyalty.”

  “And that’s what happened?”

  “Yes, on two occasions. One of the men was like a brother, and the other a trusted, longtime business associate.”

  “Did this happen when you first became a yakuza?”

  “No. Those days were simpler. There was no need for killing because little offended me and I had nothing others would want to steal.”

  “These two people were thieves?”

  “They took what was not theirs and it dishonored me in the eyes of those who hold much higher rank among the yakuza.”

  “So you felt shamed?”

  “I was shamed and belittled.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “If someone chooses to steal from our family, the consequences are unbendable. It is no longer a matter of yubitsume.”

  “But these two people are dead because you gave the order. That must weigh heavily on you.”

  “When you are a leader, that unpleasant task is something you must do yourself. It sets an example for others so that they fear you.”

  “And it’s important that you be feared?”

  Tanaka laughed heartily. “In my world, very much so. Many people fear me. One of my business partners stole millions from our enterprises. That was a very big mistake. He would have benefitted from some fear.”

  “Hotels and casinos?”

  “You have a good memory.”

  Hannah carefully sipped her wine as Tanaka downed what remained in his glass and again poured both to the brim. “Thank you. My mother taught me to listen when people are speaking because it’s the polite thing to do. But how did you find out he was stealing? Millions sounds like a lot of money.”

  “I became suspect over time because the profit margins began to decline, though the number of customers had not.”

  “I see. And you confronted him, I assume?”

  “I did. At first he denied it, but under pressure he confessed.”

  “And that’s when you killed him?”

  Again the warning buzzers sounded inside Tanaka’s brain. He clinked his champagne glass to Hannah’s. “I didn’t say that.”

  “And the man who was like a brother? What happened to him?”

  “I’ll save that story for another day. It might upset your stomach and we’re about to enjoy a lovely dessert.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “Kakigori. It may be 80 degrees outside, but here we serve shaved ice in many flavors. I hope you like pistachio.”

  40

  Setting the Peacock Free

  Saipan

  Northern Mariana Islands

  April 1990

  When Krill again checked on the bodyguards, they were slumped across the floor. One was already dead, an expression of anguish on his face. The other still had a pulse and was gasping for air, his eyes wide, legs pedaling on the cool turquoise tiles.

  Krill found the key in the dead guard’s pocket and unlocked the door. Hiraku was naked and tied face down to the four-poster bed with nylon webbing. She looked frightened. Multiple bruises marked her body but the beauty of her peacock tattoo could not be dismissed. Krill couldn’t take her eyes off it. The peacock spread its wings across the young woman’s back and draped over her shoulders. The feathers, each delicately etched, reached around her rib cage and spread upward to her small breasts. The overall effect made it seem as though Hiraku was a peacock, or at least partially so.

  Krill sensed her fear. “Don’t be scared. I’m here to help.”

  Hiraku wriggled helplessly. “Go away.”

  “I promised your uncle Yoshi that I would look out for you.”

  At the mention of Yoshi’s name, Hiraku burst into tears.

  “No time for crying. I need to tell you some very important things, but I only have a few minutes so you must listen carefully.”

  Hiraku stilled and nervously waited as Krill sliced away the webbing. “I don’t know how much your uncle told you about the design of your tattoo, but it holds the secret to your future.”

  Hiraku seemed surprised and confused.

  Krill quickly explained the tattoo had hidden within its intricate design a Swiss bank account number. More importantly, a chunk of the estimated ninety million dollars siphoned from the heroin-smuggling operation by Yoshi Yamamoto was in the account.

  “It’s all yours. He did this for you. He wanted Tanaka to pay for what he did to you on your eighteenth birthday.”

  Hiraku was stunned this stranger knew about such a private matter. “I don’t want money. I want my uncle alive.”

  Krill helped Hiraku stand, albeit shakily, next to the bed. From a heap of discarded clothing in the corner she grabbed a bright red, off-the-shoulder blouse and a pair of olive green men’s cargo shorts with roomy, bellowed thigh pockets. She cut a length of hemp rope for a belt and handed Hiraku the folding knife.

  “Put this in your pocket and don’t hesitate to use it if you have to.”

  Hiraku opened the knife and ran her fingers cautiously across the blade. “Hopefully that won’t be necessary.”

  “But it might be. If you have to use it, think of your uncle. He was a good and brave man.”

  Tears trickled from Hiraku’s eyes. “I know how he died.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “The videotape. It’s still in the projector on the table.”

  Krill popped the cassette out of th
e machine. “I’m very sorry that you’ve had to suffer. Tanaka was responsible for what happened to Yoshi and for Mikito Asaki as well. I’ll do my best to make sure he pays for those deeds, but right now you need to get out of here. You need to run and hide. The woman having dinner upstairs with Tanaka will help you. I’m sure of it. Her name is Mariel Becker and she’s staying at the Chalan Kanoa Beach Hotel, but don’t go there immediately. Hide up north in the caves. Wait a couple of days. If you can’t find her at the hotel, contact a detective named Hideyo Mashima at the police station in Garapan. Maybe he can help you.”

  “My uncle always said we should not go to the police with our problems. He didn’t trust them.”

  “Well, your options could be limited, so let’s just hope you can contact Mariel Becker.”

  Krill guided Hiraku along a corridor that led to an exterior door on the east wing of the house. “I know you’re tired and groggy. But run and don’t stop. When you can’t run any farther, rest but keep out of sight.”

  Suddenly noticing Hiraku was barefoot, Krill slipped off her sandals. “Quick. Take these. I’ll help you put them on.”

  Krill stuffed the videocassette into one of the front cargo pockets on Hiraku’s shorts and a floppy computer disk in the other. She secured the flap buttons and set her hands gently on Hiraku’s shoulders. “Don’t lose these. You can bargain with them once you’re safely away.”

  Hiraku hugged Krill tightly, holding on until she was pushed outside and the door closed behind her.

  When Akumu awakened from her short nap, she cursed herself for such personal weakness. But after spending so much time interrogating and torturing Hiraku at all hours, she felt exhausted. She didn’t want Tanaka to know she had needed rest but if nothing were amiss there would be no reason to mention it.

  Akumu, her eyes still bleary from sleep, was startled to find her door locked and further secured on the outside by a slim wooden wedge. She pounded furiously, smashing a wooden chair against the doorknob until it broke off, but the door remain closed. Mustering her strength, she ran and flung herself against the door. She landed flat on her back. After another try, the door budged enough for her to slip out. Within seconds she realized Krill was missing and frantically began searching the main floor hallways. As she reached the bottom of the cellar stairs, she clutched the icepick in her waistband. Both of Tanaka’s bodyguards lay dead or dying. The door to the room where Hiraku had been held was open but nobody was inside. Akumu instantly noticed the nylon webbing on the floor next to the bed, short lengths that had been cut.

  One of the bodyguards was slightly alive and moaning but unable to speak. Akumu crouched next to him and shouted questions inches from his face.

  “Where is the girl? Did Krill do this?”

  It was obvious the man could barely breathe and would soon be dead. Akumu cursed in Japanese, kicked him in the ribs and ran back up the stairs.

  Krill was standing beside Tanaka and poised as though about to remove the dishes from the table.

  “Why are you barefoot?”

  “I thought it would be quieter and less disturbing when I walk through the house.”

  Hannah smiled, thinking Tanaka’s question odd, something only a control freak would ask. “That’s very considerate of you.”

  Krill moved slightly until she was standing behind Tanaka. “I’ll clear the plates if you’re finished.”

  “Hai.”

  Akumu burst into the dining room just as Krill raised her favorite Damascus-steel chef knife and pressed it against Tanaka’s throat. She did a running dive onto the table, sending the dinnerware crashing to the floor. Krill hesitated, never having killed anyone, which allowed the stunned Tanaka to quickly rebound, clutching the knife by its razor-sharp blade and spattering blood from his fingers onto his dress shirt and the tablecloth.

  Akumu yanked Krill by her spiked hair and pulled her to the floor. Hannah stood and lunged at Akumu in an attempt to break up the fight but it was too late. In a flash, Akumu had disarmed Krill, sending the chef knife skittering across the tiles. She unsheathed the icepick that was tucked into her waistband and jabbed it at Krill’s chest like a short sword. Krill twisted her body, managing to evade the potentially fatal strike but screaming as the icepick found her right shoulder. Blood spurted onto Tanaka’s face as the icepick was withdrawn.

  Tanaka bellowed. “Stop. Enough. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He touched his throat where the knife blade had momentarily rested to see if any blood had been drawn. His fingers were glossy red but he assumed it was from the wounds on his fingers.

  Krill was already on her feet and turning toward where the chef knife lay on the floor. Akumu’s face contorted into an evil smile as she spun with the agility of a practiced martial artist and with amazing speed plunged the icepick into Krill’s chest, leaving the metal point buried to the hilt, the wood handle sticking up straight. Krill gasped and collapsed against Hannah, her electric-blue halter smeared with dark blood. Her startled eyes shifted toward Tanaka. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. “You may have killed Yoshi, but you will never find your money.”

  Hannah kneeled beside Krill and pressed a hand over what she knew was a fatal puncture wound. “Krill. Stay with me. I’ll call for help.”

  Akumu laughed so hard she bent at the waist.

  Hannah sprang into action and kicked Akumu in the face, breaking her nose and toppling her to the floor. She followed up with two precise kicks to the woman’s kidneys. She was about to rip the electrical cord off a table lamp and use it to bind Akumu’s wrists when she felt a gun barrel pressed against her head.

  “Those were very skillful kicks for a travel agent, Mariel Becker, though I presume that is not your real name. I’d like to know what truly brought you to Saipan. I’m sure Akumu would very much like the opportunity to help me find out.”

  Tanaka waited until Akumu got to her feet, wincing in pain, her face smeared with blood that trickled from her nose to her lips. “You’ll live. Now get me a radio so that I can contact the guards outside.”

  Squeezing her nose with two fingers to halt the bleeding, Akumu limped toward the kitchen and returned with a handheld two-way radio. She gave it to Tanaka, who continued to press the gun barrel against Hannah’s head.

  Akumu smirked at the sight of Hannah being held at gunpoint. She turned to Tanaka, who had raised the radio closer to his mouth. “You won’t reach the guards downstairs. They’re dead and the girl is gone.”

  Tanaka showed no expression. He pushed the radio transmit button and called the two bodyguards outside the house. Yuki, the kobun with the braided ponytail who had tossed Mikito Asaki’s body off Banzai Cliff, responded instantly.

  “Do you see the girl? She has escaped.”

  “Nothing, Tanaka-san. Nobody out here but me and Kira.”

  “Look around the property. She can’t be far. Find her and bring her to me.”

  “Hai. Right away.”

  Hannah felt the gun barrel strike her head seconds before the room went dark. Akumu dragged her down the cellar stairs.

  Hiraku had fled out the east door. She had no sense of direction or where to go, but she began to run as fast as her battered body would carry her. She raced along the edge of the cliff, dodging inland to the high grass whenever the trail became impassable or simply too frightening.

  Reb picked out the red blouse through his spotting scope. He also saw two men who appeared to be shouting and chasing after her.

  “Looks like the man in the lead has some speed. He’s holding some sort of weapon in his right hand. There’s also a second man who’s carrying what looks like a machine pistol and having trouble keeping up.”

  Reb twice clicked the transmit button on his portable radio to signal Carrington. “Female exiting the house in a hurry. Through the east door. Two males in pursuit. At least one armed. Maybe both.”

  Carrington replied. “More description.”

  “Young. Twenties. Thin. Short
dark hair. Maybe Japanese. Running but losing ground.”

  Mashima clenched his teeth. “May I use the radio?”

  Carrington handed the detective the handheld. “That must be Hiraku, the niece of Yoshi Yamamoto. Can you see any tattoos on her body?”

  Decker nudged Reb aside and squinted through the tripod-stabilized spotting scope. “Shoulder tat for sure but it looks like it may wrap around her back. It’s some kind of bird, colorful, a peacock maybe.”

  Mashima’s voice was filled with excitement and hope. “Yes. It’s a peacock. That would be Hiraku. We’re on our way.”

  “Looks like her company is catching up.”

  “How far?”

  “One hundred meters and closing.”

  Decker’s voice suddenly took on new urgency. “Two bursts just fired at the woman. But the shooters are too far away for an accurate aim. Looks more like a spray and pray.”

  Carrington grabbed the radio from Mashima. “If they start to close the distance and keep shooting, take them out!”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Absolutely. We have full authorization from Langley. We need to talk to that woman and we need her alive.”

  Decker rolled toward his rifle and rested its bi-pod on a mound of stone. He dialed in his scope while Reb rattled off the distance and elevation.

  Reb peered through the spotting scope. He described the scene to Decker. The man with the braided ponytail was scampering over the rocks and underbrush like a gazelle.

  “How far now?”

  “Forty meters, maybe less. It’s getting interesting. The woman with the peacock tattoo just fell. She’s on the ground, rubbing her left arm. No, now she’s trying to get up. She’s on her knees. The target in the lead is closing fast. Thirty meters.”

  Decker sighted in on the slower of the two men. A lightning bolt tattoo gave his face a menacing look. The man was bringing up the rear, clumsily attempting to catch up to his agile companion. Decker calculated that shooting the slower man first might afford them a few precious seconds before the bodyguard in the lead realized what was happening.