Just Needs Killin

by Jinx Schwartz

  "Because I have information I want to give to Tadassan personally, not the least of which is that his grandsons are not only missing, but maybe drowned. And then, when Fujikawa later learns the honorable Dickless is safe and sound, Luján might finally face his day of reckoning. And when the Japanese mob is involved, that ain't going to be a pretty day. Oh, yeah, we're heading straight for that house."

  I gave Fabio the slip by running a red light, then cutting through our love hotel. This fight was personal for me and Jan, and we didn't want anyone else in danger. We'd had enough of that. By the time Chino and Fabio got together and found us, we planned to have the whole thing under control. Hey, it could happen.

  Chino called us on Granny Yee's cell and told us the Navigator had pulled into a gas station, so I told him to forget about trying to raise a cop. What I didn't say was that the delay gave us the time we needed to set our trap.

  The rusty bus across the street from Lujan's lair gave us cover once again. And, as before, his house was lit up, but when I peeked through the gates, it looked as though no one was around. I was trying to figure out how to scale the wall when the gates started sliding open. Evidently someone had opened them remotely from a block or so away.

  We scooted through, and around back, just as headlights swept into the drive. From behind a bush, I saw it was a large SUV, not the Navigator.

  "Jan, turn off the phone. We can't have Chino calling again now."

  "Roger."

  Doors on the SUV flew open, Luján and the other dicks stepped out, and went into the house. Luján was not a happy pendejo. He was deriding his minions, cursing a blue streak, and I swear, somewhere in his diatribe, I heard my name.

  The black Navigator roared down the block and turned into the drive a little too fast and, way too late, Lava Lava saw the SUV. He hit the Dicklessmobile with a satisfying Wham! The alarms on both cars went off, and dogs all over the neighborhood sounded off, as well. The airbags exploded in the Navigator, and the back doors sprang open.

  Unfortunately, Po Thang vaulted from the car and headed straight for me.

  I was really glad to see him, but timing is everything.

  So they say.

  Mine is almost always a mite off.

  Fujikawa was unharmed, Lava Lava had a bump on his head, and they, along with Jan and me, were being held at gunpoint in the living room.

  It was obvious by the actions of our captors that they were pissed off, but not exactly sure what they were going to do about it. I helped things along by recanting for Fujikawa my version of the night's events, leaving out some minor details, like I was the one who sank the ship. For some reason Dickless didn't object to my tale, probably because he was curious as to my side of events. Or because he was going to kill us anyhow?

  As I recounted Moto's act of defiance by tossing us a life raft, two of Luján's men exchanged surprised glances, but the significance of later seeing it on the old fisherman's boat evidently didn't register on the boss.

  Po Thang had obviously grown fond of the old man, who blinked back a tear when hearing of Moto. He put his head into Fujikawa's lap for an ear rub, and I'm not sure who was comforting who. Whom.

  Undaunted by the gun barrel pointed our way, the old Japanese man hissed at Luján, "You have lost the ship, the gold, and both of my grandsons? How could this happen? We trusted you."

  "That'll learn you, dern you," I growled. I still hadn't completely forgiven him for taking my dog. And then stealing his affections.

  Dickless's face went reddish, and he yelled, "You shut up, Hetta Coffey. I am certain you had more to do with the loss of that ship than you admit. And by the way, how did you find my house?"

  "I followed a trail of crap. And you might not believe it, but yours stinks."

  Fujikawa grunted approval. Lava Lava actually smiled. Jan drew in a sharp breath, no doubt expecting the top of my head to disappear.

  I tried catching Lava Lava's eye to bring his attention to something very important I'd spotted. When the big guy looked my way, I held my index finger horizontally in a "Bang! You're dead" gesture and indicated the gun-toting Mexican punk. Lava Lava didn't have an index finger, but his eyes followed where mine pointed. A look of realization crossed his face, and gave me a blink and an almost imperceptible nod.

  I nodded back, then shouted, "Hey, Dickless! One, two, THREE!"

  Lava Lava mowed down all three Mexican henchmen, including the one holding the gun, while I tackled Luján. Jeez, the little hijo de puta rata was solid. However, I had surprise on my side, and Jan for back up. If you're going to get into a brawl, make sure your best friend is an old rodeo hand. Preferably a hawg wrestler.

  We threw the rat pack into a bathroom and I was wedging a chair under the door handle when Chino, with Fabio on his heels, crashed through the door.

  "Ya know, Chino," Jan said, "I think it was unlocked."

  He opened his arms wide, "Preciosa, you are safe!" He grabbed her in a bear hug and gave her a long kiss.

  Jan went all starry-eyed, and I wondered when she was going to realize he'd just called her by Abuela's pet goat's name.

  Fabio, on the other hand, was not so pleasant. Turns out the love hotel's night clerk, alerted when I flew through the driveway and out the back, recognized Abuela Yee's van following me, and closed the barrier in front of and behind the van. They wouldn't let him leave until he paid for three porno flicks he'd watched during a previous stay. As he told the story, Fabio gave me a suspicious look.

  Poor Mr. Fujikawa, once he got over the shock of what Lava Lava and I did, was despondent. "What have I done? I only wanted to recover the gold for Japan, and I have caused the deaths of Ishikawa and my grandsons." He looked around the room, probably for a sword to fall upon, so I tried distracting him.

  "Tadassan, we don't know Kazoo and Moto are dead. Ishikawa? I can pretty well confirm he's gone. Do you know who killed him?"

  He shook his head. "I now suspect it was the pig, Luján."

  "I think I can help you out with that. But what did Ishikawa do to warrant such violence?"

  "I do not know, but I was to meet with Ishikawa the day after the luau. He said maybe we were making a mistake, but he would explain later. There was no later. He disappeared and our friends back in Japan feared him dead, but we were not certain."

  "Oh, he is," Jan chirped. "We saw him the night of the luau. He was beheaded. And Hetta took pictures."

  "What luau?" Chino asked. "Beheaded? Ishikawa? I thought he was on that Malaysian airliner."

  "Jan, I think you'd better take Chino outside. You got some 'splainin' to do."

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  We left Luján and his men in the tender care of Lava Lava. Actually, I was now calling him Dojo, since we were best buds. We forged a bond following our joint flying tackle takedown, which he gave me full credit for. He said I was a velly smaht gul to realize the bore size of that gun was way too small for a real 9mm Glock, and was most likely an air pistol.

  Fujikawa made some calls before we left, and three guys with missing fingers showed up at the house. And to make absolutely sure Dickless wasn't going to have a nice night, I borrowed Dojo's Smart Phone, accessed my email account, and forwarded to him an email I'd sent to myself after the luau. Yep, the one with those damning pictures attached. I'd wiped then from My Photos in my computer, but not before sending myself that email.

  I also LIKED Dojo on Facebook. You never know when you're gonna need a friend like him.

  Fabio wanted to stay around and join the Japanese dudes in the fun, but we talked him out of it.

  Since Po Thang was unwelcome at Abuela Yee's, I went to Rosa's to see if, by some wild chance, I could get some food and sleep before dawn, when we had agreed to go look for any sign of Nao de Chino.

  Rosa made me some scrambled eggs as she sobbed over the loss of both our ship and her job.

  My eggs were a mite on the salty side.

  It was a somber group that left the Puerto San Carlos pier at
dawn.

  One of Chino's cousins had located the dual-engined panga Luján used to escape the stricken Nao de Chino so Jan, Chino, Fabio, Po Thang, and I took that one, while Dojo, Fujikawa, and a rather mean looking, short-fingered Japanese man rode with Chino's cousin.

  Using the GPS doggie tracker I'd zipped into my waterproof pouch before we jumped ship, when I was still hoping to later locate the Nao de Chino and all that gold, I led the search party. We soon got a reading for the chip in Moto's crotch. Well, not in his crotch, but his drysuit's crotch. I picked up the signal two miles past the entrance to the bay, but when we zeroed in, we found nothing but an oil slick and some debris.

  Fujikawa sobbed inconsolably, so Jan and I changed pangas and held his hands, telling him how brave and generous Moto was to try saving our lives, which he probably would have had the old fisherman not come along to pick us up.

  "Tadassan, can you tell me how you knew about the gold your grandsons found?" I asked. Jan shot me a dirty look for intruding on his grief, but, hey, I wanted to hear the story. I also wanted to know if they'd recovered all that bullion from the wreck site.

  He told a tale straight out of a Clive Cussler novel.

  "It was 1943, and I was a twenty-two-year-old sailor in the Japanese navy. I was young and foolish, and actually believed we could win a war against what Admiral Yamamoto called a sleeping giant." He sighed deeply and dabbed tears with the hand I'd let go of.

  "That was you in the photograph on Kazoo's screen saver?"

  "How did you see it? He should never have taken such a chance."

  Since I wasn't about to tell the man I was skulking around, spying on his kin, I was glad Jan diverted him with a shoulder pat. "He loved you and wanted a reminder."

  The old man nodded. I did the math and realized he was ninety-three years old, and looked every minute of it in his grief. We waited for him to continue. As we did so, a large air bubble rose to the surface and rocked our pangas.

  When we settled out, I prompted Fujikawa. "I lived in Japan, and can understand how your people believed they would win. They are very, uh, patriotic." I actually consider Japan, because of its homogeneous population, the most intolerant, racist place I'd ever lived, but figured this was not the time to debate social mores.

  "Yes, and we were more so back then. One would say, in today's terms, fanatical. The military had a plan to buy Mexico, or at least Magdalena Bay, so when we won the war, we would be in place to invade the American mainland, and Mexico as well. Baja would be easy, as we brought enough gold to pay off every official with any influence.

  "But what we had not counted on," he gave a slight smile, "were the Texas Rangers."

  Chino, who had been listening with fascination, asked, "The baseball team?"

  "Van Zandt," I said. "He was a former Texas Ranger, and an American spy during WWII."

  Fujikawa nodded. "We learned his name later, after he blew up our ship. There are some in Japan who consider him a great war hero. He was, of course, not our war hero, but his bravery is unmistakable."

  "Many in Texas never believed him when he said he blew up some Japanese vessels. He said he sank two submarines, but didn't mention a war ship."

  "We were disguised as a fishing vessel."

  "So the rumor is true? You were on the Tama Maru?"

  He looked startled. "You know about that?"

  "Found something on the Internet, but again, it was considered a rumor. So, why did it take seventy years for someone to come looking for the gold?"

  "I'm sure they did, but without any success. I was the only survivor, and considered the ship lost for all time. I have lived long, but when I was told my time is almost up, I decided to try and regain the gold for my country. We hired Ishikawa, because of his ties to the Baja, to track down the wreck. The problem was, I could not recall where the Tama Maru went down."

  "But you finally did?"

  He raised his shoulders. "I had mistakenly thought we were near Scammon's Lagoon, not Magdalena Bay. Remember, I was only a deckhand. We all knew of our secret mission, but not every detail."

  Jan chimed in. "So, you sent Ishikawa to Chino's fish camp to see if he could locate the wreck site."

  "Yes. But, in the meanwhile, we had a team researching documentation during that era, and found Van Zandt's story, so Ishikawa surmised we were searching in the wrong area."

  "So he hooked up with his former partner in crime, Ricardo Luján."

  Chino's cousin spat and said, "Hijo de Puta, Luján!"

  Everyone in the panga nodded in agreement.

  I suppose Dickless should not consider ever running for man of the year.

  "And, it unfortunately cost him his life. And ultimately, the lives of my grandsons." He teared up again.

  "But how did Luján locate the wreck?"

  "I underwent hypnosis. I had drifted in a lifeboat for days before I ended up on a beach, but I vividly recalled the topography of where the ship went down. I was able to literally have a map maker and artist recreate the location, and the rest was a matter of divers scouring the coast."

  "Mexican divers?"

  "No, we sent our own divers in on cargo vessels, and it did not take long for them to locate the wreck. We arranged for my grandsons to retrieve the gold under the cover of Chino's expedition, and the plan was to have the Nao de Chino rendezvous with our own ship, transfer the gold, then leave the research vessel adrift. Kazuto and Mototada insisted we report the Nao's location so it could be saved."

  Jan said, "But Lujan double crossed all of you. He was going to take the ship, and the gold, and throw your grandsons overboard. The dirty skunk wasn't counting on Hetta, though."

  I shot her a warning look. Judging by the company the old man kept, I sure as hell didn't want an apparent Japanese crime boss knowing I sank the Nao de Chino, and drowned his grandsons.

  Luckily, at that moment, my GPS pinged.

  "Jan! Moto's crotch is on the move!"

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Jan yelled at Chino, "Moto's crotch is moving!"

  He leaned toward us. "What?"

  "Moto. His crotch is moving away. We have to follow it."

  Chino looked confused, once again, by his seemingly demented Preciosa. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

  "Hetta chipped Moto's crotch, and now it's moving. Oh, never mind, just follow us."

  "And turn on your fishfinder," I added. The old panga we were on didn't have one, but Chino's panga was state of the art.

  As we motored slowly, following a now zigzagging pattern, Chino reported painting two moving targets about fifteen feet under us. We followed for ten minutes, keeping up easily. They were headed directly to the ship wreck site.

  "This cannot be random, like a fish swallowed Moto's suit or something. Mr. Fujikawa, I think your grandsons are swimming down there, and are afraid to surface, thinking Luján is up here in their panga."

  His face lit up, and I saw that seventeen-year-old sailor. "We must alert them. How?"

  "Stop the panga, I have an idea." I rummaged in my pocket, found a dog treat and threw it overboard. After looking at me for approval, Po Thang followed, splashing us all in the process. He paddled around on the surface for a minute, then dove. He was down so long I began to worry, and when he finally surfaced, I could tell he was frustrated to come up empty-mouthed, but the dog treat either sank too deep, or disintegrated.

  Undaunted, he dove again, and this time he came up accompanied by two very tired, but happy divers.

  EPILOGUE

  Jan and I both had a lot of 'splainin' to do.

  But first we had to find that toilet Abuela Yee had one of the cousins toss overboard into the bay. Her generation of Mexicans still don't get the green thing, and use large bodies of water as garbage dumps. Luckily Jan knew where they dumped most of the time, and it was only twenty feet deep.

  Po Thang zeroed in on it pretty fast and we dragged the toilet to shore, retrieved the vase, and I reluctantly turned it over t
o Chino, along with the gold bars I'd snatched from Kazoo's cabin and managed to save from the Nao de Chino. As Jan said, it was the least I could do after sinking the man's ship. And since this gold wasn't from a galleon, he could sell the bars and get a new research vessel.

  I hate it when I do something noble.

  After losing my summer job due to me sinking my work place, I went back to Guaymas and took the Raymond Johnson to La Paz, where it was hot as hell, but my air conditioner worked just fine. Once we were settled in at Marina de la Paz, Po Thang and I drove back north, to spend the rest of the summer at the fish camp.

  My new summer job entails cleaning fish and patting handmade tortillas into perfect rounds. I'm getting pretty good at both, and am considering opening a taco stand.

  Chino came back from Santa Rosalia one day with a newspaper in hand and gave it to me. The article, on page three, was headlined: BAJA REAL ESTATE BROKER FOUND BEHEADED, FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED.

  Jan, who was reading over my shoulder, snorted. "Ya think?"

  It went on to identify the victim as Ricardo Luján, but that was about it. Everyone in Mexico knows when someone gets his head removed, it is at the hands of a cartel. And, everyone in Mexico also suspects it is because the victim either had it coming, or was, at the very least, involved in the drug trade. And besides, some folks just need killin'.

  On another front, Chino's cousins reported spotting a mysterious submarine that surfaced one night near where the Nao de Chino sank, so we figured the Japanese were retrieving their gold. Not that anyone who knows what actually took place that night wants to talk about it for fear of losing fingers, or worse. And since Jan is the only person who knows I sank Chino's boat, I keep a sharp knife handy, just in case she even thinks about ratting me out.

  The missing airliner Ishikawa was reportedly aboard has never been found. However, before Dickless went headless he told Fujikawa's fingerless buds where in the Baja desert they'd dumped Ishikawa's body. Fujikawa must have confessed the sad truth of her husband's demise to his widow, for Chino received a small box of ashes to scatter in the lagoon where Ishikawa learned to commune with whales instead of canning them.