Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers)

by Nick Stephenson

  “Even if they are rebuilding operations back in Japan, they could be expanding here on the west coast of America also,” Jerome said.

  “And you think they might’ve sent someone to kill me?” June asked. “A grudge killing?”

  “Why would you think that, honey?” Jack asked quietly.

  June was a little surprised at the term of endearment, but she ignored it. “The Yakuza doesn’t let people off that easily,” she said. “I think the only thing that’s kept me alive was the alias I used last time we ran into each other.”

  “Aiko Murata,” Leopold said.

  June looked up at him. “How the hell do you know that name? Everything associated with that name has been completely deleted from my life.”

  “Like I said, courtesy of Special Agent Harper,” Leopold took a step forward. “And if the Secret Service know about it, chances are others do too.”

  June got up and went to the kitchenette for a bottle of water. Jack watched her the whole time with a knitted brow, but remained silent. She set aside the water and took a bottle of wine from the bar. Pulling the cork out, she splashed some into her glass and drank it. Pouring more, she abandoned the bottle and took the glass back to a chair.

  “Let me ask you this. Who else are you concerned about?” she asked Leopold.

  “One Los Angeles Police Department Patrol Officer James Burkins.”

  June felt three sets on eyes focusing on her. “Oh, him. That would be ex-police officer.”

  “What happened?” Jack asked.

  “Several years ago there was a homicide at my home, and he was the first officer on the scene. For whatever reason he became obsessed with me, convinced that I was the murderer, even before collecting any evidence.”

  She went on to tell the story of how she had found a young woman in her back garden, what looked to her an obvious suicide. The truth had turned out more sinister. Blaming June, Burkins had turned on her. It didn’t end well for him.

  “And you think he might have it in for me still, even though it’s been a few years?” said June. “Is he even bright enough to get past you?”

  Jerome shook his head. “He doesn’t have to get past us. He doesn’t even have to be present here at the hotel, at least not right now. But for safety sake, the two of you can’t go out together again. We’re now officially on lockdown.”

  June felt her stomach sink. She turned to Jack. “I guess the romance is over, huh?”

  Chapter 39

  KANEZAKI FELT HIS phone vibrate. He checked the incoming message. Kato had arrived back at her suite, looking like she and Melendez were staying put for now. He frowned and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

  Parked just around the corner from the convention center, the black pickup sat idling. Kanezaki turned to Isa and Kimura, still sitting in the back, and outlined the situation. The news reports would put extra eyes on the hotel, he said. Yamada wasn’t a guest. He would need to get out before the police put the place on lockdown and checked everyone’s reservations. There would be too many awkward questions, especially once they checked his ID. Searches would be run. Names would crop up in the database, linking him to Kato and the Oguchi family. Yamada would be hung out to dry, and Kanezaki needed to make sure that didn’t happen. Isa and Kimura nodded in agreement.

  “Keep watch here,” Kanezaki said. “I’m going in before they start guarding the doors. Once it’s done, I’ll get Yamada out. We can deal with him later, somewhere quiet.”

  “We’ll be here,” Isa said.

  Kimura kept quiet.

  Kanezaki stowed his handgun in the glove box. It didn’t make sense to carry if there would be searches. Instead, a ceramic folding knife stuffed down a sock would have to suffice. It wouldn’t show up if there were metal detectors, and it was sharper than its steel counterparts. Didn’t blunt as easily, either.

  “Keep the engine running,” Kanezaki said, climbing out of the car. “In case you need to move quickly.”

  He stalked off toward the hotel, glancing right and left. The sound of sirens was getting louder, the crowds growing thicker. Secret Service detail would be tripled inside the convention center, and all eyes would be on the bomb scare at the park. Even if Yamada got away without leaving any trace evidence, the police would catch up with him eventually, through Mariel. It was inevitable.

  He smiled. Everything was working out perfectly.

  Chapter 40

  JUNE FINISHED HER glass of wine, her first glass in a year. Not that she had quit drinking, she had simply lost her taste for it. The alcohol helped, taking the edge off a difficult conversation. Leopold hadn’t been impressed with June’s checkered history, and he wasn’t mincing words.

  “We’ve already arranged it with Secret Service,” he said. “Jack will return to D.C. on the earliest flight we can get him to. You will be heading back to LA a day early.”

  “Wait a minute, here,” Jack said. “We want the time together.”

  “It’s on the recommendations of the Service that we get you back to D.C. and into more controlled surroundings,” Leopold said again.

  “This hotel is not cut out for the level of protection we need,” Jerome said. “Everyone we talk to from reception to housekeeping to plant operations is third rate, at best. They just aren’t geared up to top-level VIP standards, which is hardly surprising. Seattle isn’t exactly a hotspot for major political players. For the next few hours, we’ll all have to make do on our own.”

  “Oh, come on, you can’t keep us trapped in here,” said June. “You don’t even know there’s a threat.”

  “We know there’s a bomb,” Leopold said. “And we now know you’ve got half the Yakuza baying for blood. These two pieces of information are enough to make me edgy. Throw in unfamiliar surroundings and a high-profile politician,” he looked at Jack, “and I’m damn sure not taking any risks.”

  “Would you rather hit the exit door now, without giving the talk at all?” Jerome added. “Because that is about the only other option.”

  June balled her fists. “I can easily get a room somewhere else. Just remember, you don’t control my life.”

  “It’s not your life we’re concerned about. We’re here for Jack,” Leopold said. “That’s the job we’re here for. As far as Jerome and I are concerned, the safest thing to do is vacate.” He sighed. “Look, I know you wanted to stay away from a big team, after what happened before. But a job like this requires a much bigger security presence than just the two of us. It’s only going to get worse for you once the campaigns start in earnest. You’ll need a bigger advance team, plus an interior team and exterior, just to sit on the toilet. But Jack explicitly wanted just us this time. For better or for worse, all in all, things have gone quite well. Considering.”

  “So far,” Jerome added.

  June and Jack sat in silence for a moment, trying to absorb their predicament.

  “Have you scanned the suites and floors again?” Jack asked, breaking the silence.

  “All suites, hallway, elevator, and stairwell landings,” Jerome said. “As long as we all stay put on the seventh floor, we’re safe for now.”

  “The biggest risk is getting Doctor Kato to her speech and back again, and then both of you to the airport.”

  “Just be glad you have a little time before they clear the roadblocks,” Jerome added.

  June went back to the minibar where she left the bottle of wine she opened. Instead of pouring more, she got a cold bottle of water from the fridge and cracked it open for a drink. She tried to smile at Leopold. “Well, you can count on me leaving a very poor rating card when I check out.” She hoped the humor would defuse some of the tension, but it fell on deaf ears.

  “How about we find something to eat?” Jack said. “No sense in starving to death.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Jerome dug through the contents of the refrigerator. He found some fruit and vegetables, and some pasta in one of the cupboards. After a few minutes of
fussing with the stove, he produced four steaming bowls. He saved the fruit for dessert.

  “It’s not much,” he said. “But it’ll keep you energized.”

  They ate. Afterwards, Leopold offered to leave June and Jack alone for a while. They hastily accepted.

  “Which suite do you want us to use?” Jack asked.

  Leopold rubbed his face.

  “Our primary is Mister Melendez,” Jerome said. “We have to consider threats against him first. If our security measures are breached, intruders would go to his suite. I say we shift him to the doctor’s room.”

  “Okay with the two of you?” Leopold asked.

  June and Jack looked at each other, then back at Leopold.

  “You’ll leave us alone?” June asked squarely.

  Leopold crossed his heart. “Until it’s time to move out.”

  “No interruptions for scans or bed checks?”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Leopold asked, cracking a rare smile. “But one of us will be outside the door.”

  “No rest for the wicked,” June said. “I guess we can make the most of it.” She let her hand drift down to Jack’s thigh. She felt him quiver a little.

  ***

  “I thought we’d never get rid of them,” June said, sprawling out on the bed.

  “At least they gave us a little time together,” said Jack, joining her. There were extra pillows on the bed, thick cushier ones, a definite improvement over the previous ones. Jack had two behind his back, propped up, and the other two were set up for June to use, also arranged for a reclining position.

  “What’s with all the pillows?” June punched a dent into one before settling back onto it.

  “I got them from the other bed. I thought we could talk for a while.”

  “Another night together would have been better,” June said, snuggling up to him.

  “Better get used to it,” said Jack. “This is the way it’s going to be for now on. And once the Secret Service gets a hold of my schedule, which should be any time now, security will get much tighter.” He stroked her hair for a moment. “Actually, June, these guys have been quite accommodating as far as our personal freedom and privacy goes.”

  “Great. Just what I need, even more scrutiny over my time and with what I do. My sister runs my social life, my clinic manager runs my office schedule, and a nurse runs my surgical schedule. Soon I’ll have the Secret Service telling me what I can and can’t do with my time.” She looked at him, and gave his cheek a peck. The mood for anything more than that was gone. “You’ll wind up President someday. For that I can prepare. Somehow it just seems to make sense, to protect the President and his family. But why bother with me now?”

  Jack turned up on his side to face her. “Family? You and me?”

  “Isn’t that what this is all about?” she asked. She felt startled at his question, but at least they were finally having the talk. She just wished it wasn’t in bed. Nothing reliable was ever determined while two people were lying on a bed together. “Are we just dating? Or is there something more?”

  He caressed her face, wiping hair away from her cheek. “You probably feel like you’ve been lost in all the campaigning.”

  “The trips back and forth across the country, meeting in hotels for weekends…I gotta tell you, Jack, it makes a girl feel like a mistress.”

  “I’m not married, so you’re not my mistress.”

  “A whore, then.”

  “Ha! Maybe that’s the case for some other guys in the White House, not me. Not now, June, not ever. Okay?”

  She smiled and kissed his chest. “Good enough… for now.”

  They kissed, and played. She pushed him over onto his back, shoving pillows aside.

  “Something tells me you’re very Presidential right now,” she said.

  Chapter 41

  SEONG-MIN SAW THE sirens and kept his foot on the gas. Traffic had slowed, forcing him to weave through the backstreets. He glanced in the rear view mirror, checking for any sign of pursuit. Just a couple of minivans, pedestrians on the sidewalk. Nothing to worry about.

  Jun-yeong wound down a window, taking a gulp of fresh air.

  “Keep your head inside the van,” Seong-min said.

  The kid turned, glaring. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he said. “Nobody saw us. This must be about something else.”

  “You got shit for brains? All hell breaks loose the second we head out, you think this is about something else?” He stared ahead, eyes on the road. “I’m calling an abort.”

  Jun-yeong laughed bitterly. “You’re a coward, you know that? Nothing changes. We still have a mission to complete.”

  Seong-min slammed on the brakes, sending Jun-yeong lurching forward. His seat belt kept him from slamming into the dashboard. The minivan behind sounded its horn. Seong-min pulled off to the side of the road.

  “Byong-shin!” Jun-yeong screamed, slamming his palm agains the window. “What the hell are you dong?”

  “Listen up, choding. Someone screwed us. Get this through your thick skull.”

  “You’re insane. Nobody knows about us.”

  “Somebody does. Think clearly. We plant the bombs, nobody sees us. No cameras, nothing. The minute we’re out of there, half the city’s cops charge in. That’s no coincidence. They’ve probably got a full description of us by now.”

  “If you’re so sure, who called it in? I know I didn’t. Did you?”

  “Of course not.” Seong-min rubbed his eyes. “But planting the bombs in the park was a risky move. An unnecessary risk.”

  “I told you that already.”

  “And I told you we had orders. No sense arguing about it now.”

  Jun-yeong bit his tongue. “So, what’s your point?”

  “My point is someone maybe wanted us to get found out.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. “But the devices at the hotel and convention center are still primed. We don’t need to be anywhere near when they go off. If we can stay one step ahead of the police, we might just make it out of here.”

  Jun-yeong shook his head. “And go where? If this was a setup, then where the hell do we go? We can’t go home, that’s the first place people would expect us to try. We can’t stay here. Not with the city out for blood.”

  “I’ll think of something. For now, we lie low. Wait until everybody’s preoccupied with the fallout at the convention center. Then maybe we find a boat out of here.”

  “Fine.”

  “And maybe it’ll give me some time to think about how the police found out about us. Something here doesn’t feel right.”

  “Just shut up and drive, old man. You’re the one got us into this mess.”

  Seong-min considered pushing the kid out the door and leaving him behind, but quickly reconsidered. The police would break him sooner rather than later, and Seong-min didn’t need the aggravation. He dropped the van into drive and rolled out into the road. The safe house was a few miles north, they could hole up there for a few hours until the sun went down. Then head on down to the harbor and find a boat. It shouldn’t be difficult to stow away on one of the larger private vessels, preferably one that wasn’t going to stay moored for too long. It would be easy enough to check the logs for recent arrivals, cross-reference with departure dates. The coast guard wouldn’t look twice at some rich guy’s yacht.

  “What if we get caught?” Jun-yeong said. “Sit in some prison somewhere for the rest of our lives getting tortured? We get neither death with martyrdom nor praise from our comrades. They’d probably deny they’ve ever heard of us, or we get labeled as spies.”

  Seong-min turned down another side road. “Terrorist, spy, what difference would it make to Americans?”

  “As soon as they find out we’re from the north, we’re dead,” Jun-yeong said. “You ever heard of Guantanamo?”

  “You want out of the van? I can let you out. Take your chances without my help.” Seong-min laughed. “You’d last f
ive minutes. At best.” Struggling to keep composed, he tried another side road. Then another. The streets looked unfamiliar. A third attempt and they hit the main road out of town, no way back. A few hundred feet ahead, familiar red and blue lights filled the horizon, a dense row of police cruisers blocking the way through.

  “Gaesaekki dul jokka ra kuh hae!” Jun-yeong swore. “What the hell do we do now? We try to get through, we’ll get caught for sure. I can’t see anywhere to turn off.”

  “Only one thing we can do now.” Seong-min made a U-turn in the middle of the wide road, several cars screeching to a stop behind him, sounding their horns in a haze of burnt rubber. The police must have noticed, two cruisers breaking off from the barricade, racing in their direction. The cars ahead slammed on their brakes, clearing a path.

  “Shipjanseng!” Seong-min joined in the profanities. He mashed his right foot to the carpet, the van’s four-cylinder diesel engine screaming and rattling in protest. The turbo finally kicked in and the van surged forward, heading against traffic. Seong-min wrenched the wheel from side to side, weaving and bobbing through the oncoming cars, flashing his high beams. The other vehicles swerved, a few of them losing control and careening into the central barrier with a deafening crunch of twisting metal.

  “Way to make a quiet getaway, jot dae ga ri,” Jun-yeong said, holding on tight as the van rocked violently from side to side. “Why not just drive us into the damn harbor and get it over with?”

  “So help me I will throw you out of this van,” Seong-min screamed back, taking his eyes off the road.”

  “Shib seki, look out, you - ”

  Seong-min stomped on the brakes, but too late. Ahead, a beat-up SUV had lost control and was headed straight toward them, horn blasting. Jun-yeong screamed something incomprehensible as the older man heaved the wheel to the side, hoping to avoid a direct collision. He caught the turn badly, feeling the van start to lose traction. He felt himself lifted and stared out the side window. Both wheels were off the road, spinning feverishly in the air. The van tilted on its side and Seong-min forced the wheel back the other way, hoping to get the wheels back onto the asphalt.