Colton Banyon Mysteries 1-3: Colton Banyon Mysteries (Colton Banyon Mystery Book 20)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  “They soon finished with her and left the woman spread-eagled on the floor. One of the men pronounced us all dead and proceeded to set fire to the dungeon. The floor and one wall were rock, but the other three walls and ceiling were built of old wood. It was clear that they wanted to burn the entire compound and had been given orders to set the lower floors on fire. I was truly trapped.”

  “They left the way that they had come and I heard a door slam. The fire pit provided fuel for the fire. Flames covered the far wall and were moving towards me at an alarming speed. I was also struck with a moral dilemma. As I shed my chains, I realized that the woman on the floor was still alive, but I had no way to unlock her shackles. I crawled over to her and attempted to free her. She was in very bad shape and I doubted if anything could save either of us. The fire was already overhead. She tried to say something as I bent towards her mouth.

  “‘Pull both chains at the same time,’ she said. She then died in my arms.

  “I ran to the wall, yanked on both shackles with all my remaining strength, and the wall opened into a narrow doorway. I never found out who she was or how she knew about the passageway, but she was responsible for allowing me to live. Later, as I thought about it, she probably moaned to distract the man from me. She had sacrificed her life and her dignity to save a white woman during a war in China.”

  “There are many unsung heroes during a war,” Banyon commented.

  “You must have been terrified,” Loni whispered.

  Sofia nodded. “The tunnel was very scary and dark. The only light was from the fire that raged behind me. The path was straight and steep, probably cut from the mountain by hundreds of workers over a long period of time. I found myself wondering if the woman or a relative of the woman who saved me had spent time digging in the small passage. When I finally stumbled out of a cave at the bottom of the mountain, it was near dark. I didn’t know which way to go, but reasoned that I could not stay there. As I looked back up the hill, I saw a huge fire blazing on top of the mountain peak. All traces of General Ho were gone except for the diamonds and me. But the air that I breathed was free.”

  “What did you do?” Loni asked. She had now moved to the very front of her seat and only a portion of her small bottom rested on it. Colt was ready to catch her if she fell.

  “Why, I became a monk, of course,” Sofia replied with a tilt of her head as if it was totally logical.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  “How could you become a monk?” Loni was skeptical.

  “It wasn’t that difficult. When the sun finally rose, I started walking east. I knew I was hundreds of miles from the coast and it would take me a long time to reach Shanghai. I could hide in Shanghai, especially with my newfound wealth. All I had to do was pretend to be anything but Jewish. I was getting good at disguises.

  “Anyway, as I crossed rice paddies and open fields, I was constantly assaulted by the smells and sights of war. The scent of cordite and the throat-gagging odor of decaying flesh permeated the air. Large birds circled over the dead bodies which littered the valley. By the afternoon, I was very hungry and decided that I had to search some of the bodies for food. I resolved to keep moving east, but to investigate any opportunities which presented themselves. That was when I met the monk.”

  “What kind of monk?” asked Banyon.

  “He was a Buddhist monk and sat in the lotus position under a tree. At first, I thought he was dead, as he didn’t react as I closed in on him. As my body blocked out the sun, his eyes flicked open.

  “‘You will not reach your destination dressed like that,’ he said as if he already knew where I was going.

  “‘What do you mean?’ I replied with defiance in my voice.

  “‘You are not Chinese,’ he answered in an even tone.

  “‘I have survived so far,’ I retorted in a defiant tone.

  “‘The war is not over. It will follow you.’ His dead eyes were directed towards the bright sun.

  “‘And you can help me?’ I asked.

  “‘I am a man of religion. I must help you or die trying.’ The fatalism in his answer was evident.

  “‘What are you doing here?’ I asked as I surveyed the area around us. There were several dead bodies, none were soldiers.

  “‘I am praying for the lost souls around you.’ He spread his arms with his palms facing up.

  “‘But what about your own safety?’ I asked the monk.

  “‘I reached my own peace a long time ago,’ he said. ‘I serve a higher calling.’

  “‘So, will you help me? I need to get to Shanghai.’

  “‘It is a very long journey and you are ill equipped. I can prepare you.’”

  “‘How?’ I asked.

  “‘You will become a monk,’ he said.

  “He told me that a Buddhist monk could travel freely throughout most of China. Many Chinese and many Japanese were Buddhists. Only the Communists were to be feared. They believed in no religion. He said the Communists had not captured the roads south of where we were, and the Japanese were only three day’s walk away.”

  “‘You will need to pass through their lines,’ he said.

  “‘But, monks are all men,’ I protested.

  “‘Then we must make you a man, too.’ He then produced another monks black frock from a bag by his feet. ‘We must shave your head and also tie down your breasts. The sun will darken your skin. You will pass.’

  “‘And what is your price for helping me?’ I asked.

  “‘You will pray for all these lost souls that you find along the way,’ he said. ‘And I will have saved at least one soul. You.’

  “I spent the rest of the day with the monk. He never told his name or asked me mine. It did not matter to him. He was serving Buddha, that was all that counted. He shaved my head with the same razor he used on his own bald dome. He told me to take off the peasant clothes. He didn’t seem to notice that I was a woman, except that he stared at my breasts. He pressed both of them hard into my body and then nodded. When he produced a rope from his bag, I was a little nervous, but he told me the rope was to tie my breasts down. He said that monks didn’t have breasts. It seemed funny to him.

  “After winding the rope around my chest several times, he draped the frock over my shoulders and stood back to admire his work. He told me to wear the hood which was part of the robe when I was around people. It would help to hide my face, but otherwise, to let the sun darken my now bald white crown. We ate small bits of food that he produced from his bottomless bag and I slept on the ground next to him that night. I had stealthily transferred the diamonds to the pocket in the robe when he wasn’t looking.

  “Shortly after dawn the next morning, I left. He once again sat in the lotus position, as if to catch another soul. That is how I remember him.”

  “He asked for nothing in return?” Loni could not believe that.

  “I put two diamonds in his razor box when he went to relieve himself. But he never asked anything of me. He requested that I pray for the lost souls, that was all,” Sofia replied.

  “Did you pray?” Banyon asked.

  “I had little choice, really.”

  “What do you mean?” Loni asked.

  “Devastation and death were everywhere. Every few miles there were people begging me to give peace to their dead loved ones. I think the monk knew I would be besieged by needy people. He sent me out as one more emissary to help heal the spiritual needs of the people.”

  “Were you able to help?” Banyon asked.

  “I never spoke, but would stand over dead bodies and look solemn. The people seemed to be content and at peace after my non-ceremony. I didn’t mean to, but eventually, I started to say silent prayers in Hebrew. After a few weeks, I found myself praying all the time, even while walking on an open road with no one else around.”

  “How long did it take you to reach Shanghai?” Loni inquired.

  “I reached the French Quarter in January of 1945. I traded in some diamonds and
found an apartment. I soon learned the Japanese were getting pushed back all over Asia and the Pacific. But they still had a stranglehold on the central part of eastern China where Shanghai was located. I realized that if I returned to my European image, I would become too noticeable. My life was now all about staying invisible. I just had to survive until the end of the mind-numbing war. I bought men’s clothes and found a harness to replace the dreaded ropes around my chest. I kept my head shaved and could pass for a young, effeminate man. I became Steve Kerns.

  “I stayed in the gay district of the city. They had the best early warning system and supported each other. My best strategy for survival was to become a gay man.”

  “Did you ever go to the La Boyzzes and look for the man from General Ho?” Banyon asked.

  “It was the main gay club in the entire city. Everyone went there, but I never saw anyone who wore a green scarf on a Monday night. I did meet many interesting men. One even befriended me and came to America with me at the end of the war. Ed Byrnes was his name. He was an American. I don’t think he was really gay. He was just hiding in the gay section, like me. But he also never touched me.”

  “Did you ever go back to the ghetto?” Banyon asked.

  “I went there just before I was to leave for America. The Japanese were gone then and many people had already left. Most people didn’t have fond memories of the ghetto. I had true sadness. The storefront was now a food store, but one thing was still the same: Constable Cho. He had gained considerable weight and waddled down the street in his official uniform. I called out to him, but he didn’t recognize the young man in front of him at first. He stared at me for a few minutes. Then he pulled me into an alley.

  “‘So, you have been hiding in the gay section,’ he said. ‘I have a small business which could use you now that the cursed Japanese are gone. Of course, there will be charges for inspections,’ he added.

  “‘I don’t do that anymore,’ I replied. ‘All I want to know is whether you found the men who killed my sister.’

  “‘Of course,’ he answered indignantly. ‘We captured them that very night. Their commandant carried out their punishment immediately. I helped to track them down.’

  “‘Were any of my belongings recovered?’ I asked.

  “‘Nothing, I’m afraid. If you need money, I could help, for a price.’

  “‘Forget it Cho,’ I said. ‘I’m leaving for America as soon as I can get papers.’

  “‘Then I will bring you a parting gift when you leave. You and your sister were special to me. You were my first supporters. Please let me know when you are leaving.’

  “He was true to his word and brought me a small present. I never understood why he did that,” Sofia mused.

  “Maybe he felt guilty for the way he had treated you. Or maybe he was in love with you.” Banyon suggested.

  “What did Ed Byrnes say when he found out that you were a woman? I mean, he must have seen you on the boat?” Loni asked.

  “I never really had a chance to tell him. We finally got papers to go to America in early 1946. I bought us two tickets for separate cabins on a ship bound for Los Angeles. We were at sea for three days before I got up enough nerve to tell him the truth. But by that time, he had gotten into a fight and was arrested aboard ship. He was not allowed visitors, as the captain said they discovered that Ed was actually a deserter from the army. I was not very shocked. He was uncontrollable, as if he held secrets which could not be touched.”

  “Did you ever see him again?” Loni inquired.

  “He was sent to military prison. I have no idea how long his sentence was, but I never saw him again. It was sad, though. I wished he could have seen me as Sofia. It might have made a difference for him.”

  “But you settled in Los Angeles. Didn’t you go to see his parents?” Loni kept digging.

  “The address he gave me was an abandoned lot.”

  “So you never knew who he really was, did you?” she asked.

  “So many men came into my life, extracted what they could from me, and then left. I didn’t need any more attention,” Sofia said.

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  “According to your records, you made a lot of money in real estate in California,” Banyon pointed out.

  “At first, after I landed, I didn’t know what to do. I found a diamond dealer and sold off some diamonds. I bought a house and a car. I wanted desperately to be a normal person. For a year, I went to the movies, read magazines, shopped, and hung out in bars. I had no idea what I would do for a living. Real estate came as a natural for me. I already had most of the skills that I needed to succeed.”

  “What skills do you mean?” Banyon inquired.

  “Well, I was tall, blonde, and twenty-one, to start. I already knew how to negotiate from my years in China. I was able to disguise my emotions, knew a lot about men, and knew when to walk away from a deal. I was good at real estate and bought and sold land in California for more than forty-five years.”

  “And then you retired,” Banyon said.

  Sofia nodded. “I have been living on ships since then. Most of the people I knew in L.A. are gone. I’m by myself again.”

  “And you never looked back and thought about your past?” Loni asked.

  “I never wanted to go there. There was too much pain.”

  “So you never thought about the book or the recipe?” Banyon asked.

  “The book had no value to me. It was Eva who kept it. The recipe seemed more like a dream. I thought that many people had the recipe, but it never surfaced and I had no idea how to replicate it. I didn’t want anyone to ask about my past. I have always looked forward.”

  “So you never married or had any children, either?” Loni jumped in with a personal question.

  “Never had time for it and didn’t want to be hurt by another man,” Sofia sadly replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I had plenty of men. They mostly were part of my real estate deals, but I did enjoy them.”

  “So, you did eventually lose your virginity?” Loni cut to the chase.

  “I gave it away gladly when I made my first deal,” Sofia said. “He was a nice young man with a family.”

  Chapter Sixty Eight

  Banyon now took over the conversation. “Sofia, as I told you when we got here, we are looking for the rightful owner of the Mein Kampf book. It seems the book has two important documents inside it. One is a key to secret German bank accounts, and the other is a recipe for tea that could have incredible impact on those afflicted with alcoholism. The book itself also has a high value to many collectors. Do you believe you are the rightful owner?”

  “Well, the book really belonged to George Gerut, but I’m sure he is dead. He would be over a hundred years old now. Anyway, he gave it to Eva, and Eva was my sister. Yes, I’m sure the book is rightfully mine. But I don’t want it.”

  “Why would you not want it,” Banyon asked. “There is so much potential for good and profit.”

  “I am an old woman with no one to inherit my legacy. Let someone else deal with the pressure,” she said. “I am wealthy now. It can do no good for me.”

  “Well, once the book is released from the murder trial in Japan, it will be sent to you.”

  “What murder trial?” Sofia asked suddenly.

  “Two soldiers were found with the book in the Philippines. They were murdered by a young man in the Yakuza. The book is being held as evidence for the trial. When the trial ends, the Japanese have promised to deliver it to the rightful owner. That is why we are here.”

  She was crying again. “It can’t be,” she wailed. “You are telling me that the men who murdered Eva have been free all these years. It can’t be. I was assured they were punished for Eva’s death. I can’t trust anything the Japanese say.”

  Loni got up from the couch and sat next to her. She produced more tissues and attempted to sooth the old woman. Suddenly Sofia stopped crying and grabbed Loni by the hand. “Where did you get this green jade ring?”


  “Do you like it?” Loni was glad the woman was interested in something besides crying. “My father gave it to me,” she said.

  “I’ve seen one like it before,” Sofia replied.

  “Really? I’m told that this ring has been in my family for many generations. It is a good luck charm,” Loni said. “Where did you see one like it?”

  “Master Lee wore one,” Sofia said.

  Both women went quiet as they pondered the coincidence.

  Banyon finally spoke. “Sofia, there is an option.”

  “An option to what may I ask? What do you mean?”

  “There is an option to your dilemma about the book. What to do with it, I mean,” Banyon said.

  “Oh,” a startled Loni exclaimed.

  Banyon turned to Loni, who was always prepared. “Loni, we could write a note that says—”

  But Loni cut him off. “You just have to sign this.” Loni held a piece of paper in her hand. Banyon was amazed. Where did the paper come from, he wondered?

  “What is that?” Sofia pointed to the paper.

  “It is a release and waiver form. It says you are donating the book to the Museum of History in Chicago. They will take possession of the book and the contents. The book will go on display as part of an exhibit, with a plaque honoring your donation. You will also receive a healthy tax deduction for the donation,” Loni added.

  “And I won’t have to be involved in seeing or touching the book?”

  “Only if you want to,” Loni replied. “We can also add a clause which says that any clinics for alcoholism derived from the contents will bear your name. Is that acceptable?”

  “I want the clinics in the name of my dead sister. They should be the Eva Kerns Clinics.”