My Yakuza

by A. J. Llewellyn

  He pulled Shiro to his feet.

  “Don’t try that again,” he said, but his cock was in the guy’s hand.

  “Don’t worry, I will.”

  Shiro’s smile stirred something deep and primal within Kono.

  Fuck…I want to stay here and…

  He shook his head, allowing Shiro a small kiss.

  “I’m an old man,” he said. “This could kill me.”

  “A lot more fun than bullets, though, huh?”

  Kono had no response to that. He still felt high from the mind-numbing orgasm.

  “I’ll be back.”

  Shiro smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Kono left him alone with fresh snacks from the vending machine down the hall, a few more bottles of spring water and the remote control for the TV.

  “Don’t answer anything but the cell phone and don’t open the door to anyone but me.”

  “Okay,” Shiro said. “Can I have another kiss?”

  “You will, if you eat up all your fruit.”

  Kono headed back out to Far Rockaway. He radioed ahead asking dispatch to let the Loo know that he was coming in and needed to see him right away. To expedite his return, he reached for his mobile light unit from the console beside him. Gone. Someone had stolen it. He was in his off-duty car, so no siren, either. Shit. It would have cut the time in half on his return. He floored it, running several red lights, parking the car beside Jerrell’s gleaming black Avalon. It was the only car that even the dumbest criminals declared off-limits.

  Jerrell was in his office, re-tying a tie over his crisp, white shirt.

  “Was just about to leave, I got me a hot date, so this better be good.”

  Kono closed the office door and sat down. “I just met a man who was sent here from Tokyo to kill me so that I couldn’t testify in the Harada case.”

  Jerrell gave up fighting with the tie and walked over to his bookshelf. He lifted a coffee pot and poured a cup of coffee.

  “Want one?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” How the hell had Jerrell gotten the coffee pot back? It was the same one, Kono was convinced of it. Outside the window, under the newly installed bright lights in the parking lot, he caught sight of a snivelling teenager soaping down Jerrell’s car. Ah, the plot thickened.

  Jerrell handed him a cup. “This ought to be real good. Give me everything.”

  Kono laid out the entire operation and ended with where he’d stashed Shiro. The Loo took a sip of his coffee, then exploded.

  “You mean to tell me that you met with a guy tonight who’s been given the job of killing you and you had no backup? Is that what you’re fucking telling me? Are you serious? Did you just get out of the academy or something? You fucking bonehead!”

  “Calm down, Loo, I knew what I was doing. I told the guy to meet me at eleven o’clock at this bar and I arrived two hours earlier than that and had the bar under surveillance. I saw him go into the bar about an hour before the meet. He had no one with him or waiting outside the bar. He walked and it looked like he was local. I felt it was safe and when I went into the bar, I took every precaution including removing the weapon he’d been given to do the job.”

  Kono placed the empty nine-millimetre on Jerrell’s desk, along with the clip.

  “They filed the number off but maybe forensics can raise it with acid.”

  Jerrell looked stunned. He glanced down at the weapon and back up at Kono. “You met an armed suspect alone, with no backup in a dark bar. A suspect that was carrying a handgun with the fucking serial number filed off, which means it’s probably been used in a couple other murders. Kono, I outta put you on a desk until after the Harada trial. Maybe then you’d be safer.”

  “Come on, Loo, it’s not that bad. I had a feeling the guy was on the level and my instincts proved me right. This guy is in one tough spot and if the Yaks are holding his mother, he’ll never see her again.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “That we make it look like Shiro carried out the hit. We’ll stage it in a public place so that there are witnesses, arrest him before he can leave the scene so we can put him into protective custody, which might save his mother’s life if they think he’s on the level, and I stay hidden until the morning of the trial where my testimony is needed. In the meantime, we get the cops in Tokyo to sniff around and see if they can get a lead on the two women they’re holding.”

  “Two women? I thought it was his mother?”

  “Yeah, her and a female friend who they sent a picture of showing her stashed in a cage. I saw the picture and to me, it was no fake.”

  Jerrell picked up the phone and placed a call to the precinct’s watch commander. After several rings, the sleepy supervisor picked up the phone. Jerrell put him on speakerphone.

  “Sorry to wake you, sir, but I need your okay. We need to stage a fake hit on Kono Takumi in order to save his life and possibly the lives of three others…”

  After going over the entire scenario, the Lieutenant got his okay. Jerrell told Kono and the watch commander that he would take care of alerting the chain of command in the morning and securing their authority to proceed. The District Attorney, himself, would have to be notified of the plan since he was personally prosecuting Harada. The Yakuza had decimated parts of New York City where they operated and Saunders wanted the credit for personally putting their leader in jail for a long time. Besides, the race for Governor was only a year away, and Saunders wanted the top job in Albany come hell or high water.

  When he finished the conversation he hung up and looked at Kono. “He wants a plan on his desk by morning so that he can brief the brass. Got something in mind for your demise?”

  “It’s gotta be public and Shiro Kanake needs to be taken into custody right away. I figure he can gun me down while I’m eating lunch somewhere. We’ll use a nine filled with blanks. The ambulance will haul me away and the department can hold a news conference about my death. Once the dust settles down, we’ll transfer Shiro out to Long Island again, only this time I go with him and stay there. That way I can protect him and myself at the same time.”

  “What about the funeral? You know there’s always a big funeral when a cop gets it in this city. What about that?”

  “We can say that my wishes previously expressed were for no hoopla and that my body was to be cremated. You all can make a big deal about putting my ashes on my desk or someplace like that. I have no family here so that’s not an issue.”

  “Don’t you have someone that’ll need to know the truth? I’m not talking about people like the D.A., but personal friends or family.”

  “Not at the moment, no,” Kono replied with a slight catch in his voice. He couldn’t even tell Gen.

  “Okay, where?”

  Kono had to think for a moment on that. It had to be some place public but somewhere that a panic wouldn’t ensue during or after the shooting. The perfect place came to Kono’s mind and he smiled.

  “Well genius, where’d you come up with?” Jerrell asked.

  “There’s a picnic table in one of those little parks that separate two directions of traffic about nine blocks from here. We put one of the police women dressed in civvies with a camera who can just happen to be videoing the architecture in the area when the shooting goes down. Shiro will shoot me and then drop the gun and run like hell, just as a squad car comes around the corner. The beat guys nail Shiro, make the arrest, all on camera of course, and haul his ass away as the ambulance pulls up to tend to me. When they put me on the stretcher, they need to pull the sheet over my face to indicate that I’m dead. How’s all that sound?”

  “Good. But we need to clear the park on some pretext beforehand so that no one thinks it’s real and drops from a heart attack or some hero pulls out a gun he isn’t suppose to have and shoots your guy. You know how trigger-happy all the local clowns are.” He paused. “We’ll get it cleared before lunchtime tomorrow, since Shiro has a deadline.”

  “He does.”

  “
I want him to take a lie detector test.”

  “Okay.” Kono didn’t care. He just wanted this thing over with. “I just thought of a way to clear out the park.”

  “Hit me.”

  “I’m the jumper guy, right? We get a jumper on one of the apartment buildings and—”

  “That’s great! We clear the surrounding area.” Jerrell looked impressed. He checked his watch. “I gotta go. I have a lady waiting for me and it’s rude to make a lady wait.”

  Chapter Six

  Great. Jerrell had a hot date and Kono had to track down some blank ammo for the nine.

  “Lock-up should have something. I’ll get Stevens out of there long enough for you to rummage. We don’t want anyone suspicious about you getting bullets for a non-issue weapon. You know what, I’m gonna miss you when you’re dead, Kono.”

  “I’m gonna miss you too, Loo.”

  After finding what he needed in the precinct armory, Kono went to his office and called Shiro. When he answered the phone, Shiro sounded excited that it was Kono.

  “You okay?” Kono asked.

  “Yeah, thanks to you.”

  “Well, I’m calling to tell you we think we’ve got this thing figured out, and it looks like you’re going to kill me tomorrow.”

  Shiro inhaled sharply on the other end of the phone.

  Kono explained the entire plan to Shiro who couldn’t find any holes in it. He explained they needed to be able to clear the park. He was concerned that a bystander would shoot him thinking that he’d just shot someone.

  “My Lieutenant is working on a plan to take care of that. Now, get some rest.”

  “Alone?” Shiro asked, his voice a whisper.

  For now, Kono almost said. “Yes, but I’m just a phone call away.”

  “Did you call my grandma?”

  “I’m gonna do that now. Get some sleep because somebody is picking you up at nine o’clock in the morning.”

  “Okay,” Shiro said.

  Kono looked up to see Jerrell walking past him with his tie neatly tied. Lucky son of a gun, having a hot date in the middle of the night.

  * * * *

  Honolulu, Oahu.

  Alia Kennon shuffled down the east side of Puakalani Street in her plastic slippahs bought on sale in Chinatown, struggling with her heavy shopping bags. She wasn’t as old as she looked, or so she liked to think. Weighed down by many worries, and her shopping bags, she felt older than her sixty years as she crossed Prince Kuhio Avenue, just making the lights. She’d scored some good deals at Love’s Bakery. She’d snapped up a ton of two-for-one specials and she was anxious to get home before it got dark. She was afraid of being on the streets when it was dark. She couldn’t run so fast anymore. She could sure beat up somebody with her sack of potatoes, but she was a little tired.

  “Hey, grandma,” a man said, falling in step beside her. “Let me help you with those.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She glanced at him. He was a handsome young Japanese man. He wasn’t local, judging by his business suit. If he was a tourist, he was in the less showy part of Waikiki. She let him carry the heaviest bags.

  “What do you have in here?” he griped. “Potatoes?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  He seemed sullen. Why did he offer to help her if it was such a big deal? She moved a bit faster, only half a block from her little house. Something about the guy made her want to get away from him.

  “What’s the hurry, grandma?”

  He kept pace with her, switching the bags from one hand to the other.

  “Potty time,” she said. “I’m an old lady. When I gotta go, I gotta go.”

  Her heart sank when they reached the old iron gate of her small cottage. Another man in a suit was waiting for them. He was also Japanese. She smelled trouble. Especially when he smiled.

  “No problems, grandma,” said the one beside her. “We just want to have a little talk with you, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, knowing she didn’t have a choice. She cursed the day she gave birth to Siono. This had to be her fault. And now she might have lost Shiro. She’d tried a couple of times to return his call from the other night but always got his voicemail.

  “Take your shoes off,” she said, a little surprised at her own forcefulness.

  The two men glanced at one another. They did as they were told, leaving their shoes lined up outside the door.

  “Nice socks,” she said. “You can tell a lot about a man by his socks.”

  “Thanks,” the second one said.

  They followed her inside and the second man closed the door. They seemed to be appraising her home. She knew it probably seemed stuffed to the brim with Hawaiiana but she’d never been to a yard sale yet where she hadn’t found something she liked.

  “You mind if I make tea?” she asked. “I’m an old lady and I need to pee, then I need a cup of tea.”

  “Go ahead,” said the second man. “We’ll wait.”

  The two men talked quietly, pacing the hallway of her house. Alia listened at the bathroom door.

  “I will be very nice…until she doesn’t tell me what I want to hear,” the second man said.

  “She’s an old lady,” the first one said.

  The nasty chuckle on the other side gave her pause. The old lady washed her face and hands, sending a prayer to the volcano goddess, Pele, to help her in her hour of need.

  * * * *

  When Kono got to the part about how they would be together after the “shooting,” Shiro smiled.

  “It makes sense to keep us together. Easier to keep track of us. Unlike movies and TV shows, real police resources are limited. Plus I can protect you if I have to.”

  “Well that’s the first part of this plan I really like,” Shiro said.

  “Keep your mind on the plan and not your dick! We’ve got to make this look good. You’re gonna walk up behind me while I’m sitting at the picnic table, and you’re gonna fire three shots while pointing the gun at my back. When you do, make sure you are no closer than five feet. If you get much closer, I’ll be hit with the wads that are going to come out of your weapon along with powder burns. Make sure you drop the gun and run back the way you walked in from so that the beat car can time it right to make the arrest. They’ll know this is a setup, so don’t panic thinking they think you just shot someone or shot a cop, okay?”

  “I understand. I’ll be glad when this is over. I’m not much of an actor you know.”

  “There really isn’t much acting to this. You just walk up, shoot me, and run. The rest will unfold as planned.”

  “Okay. Can we stay someplace nicer than this place?”

  “We’re going to be staying at a Sheraton out on Long Island so that we can have room service. Once my funeral is over, we’ll have to move once more. But I’ll take care of all those arrangements, Shiro. Don’t worry about anything. All you have to do is get rest tonight and be ready for an unmarked car to pick you up in the morning.”

  “Once they pick me up, where will I be taken to?”

  “There’s an empty warehouse not far from the little park where I’ll be. You’ll stay there with the detectives that pick you up, and then you’ll walk from there to the park. This will work, just do your part.”

  “Okay, I trust you for some reason. Maybe because you’re cute,” Shiro said flirting a little.

  “You are too much. Our lives are on the line tomorrow and your head is in your pants. You really do need to get laid.”

  With that, Kono hung up.

  The phone rang a couple of seconds later. He recognised his grandma’s voice.

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “I’m in…” he almost said Long Island, but realised secrecy was essential.

  “New York,” he said.

  “What are you doing there?”

  Her total lack of surprise was shocking. She’d flipped out about Tokyo. Now he was back on US soil, albeit, the mainland, she should have been praising her favourite deity,
Pele.

  Something’s wrong. Shit…I just know it is.

  “Grandma…I have something to do. Tomorrow I have something to do. It will all be over soon. Have you heard from mom?”

  “No, I haven’t.” she paused. “You mean she’s alive?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He had to know if she was okay. Maybe she had…company.

  “I love you, grandma,” he said.

  “I love you too, son. “

  Shit. She’s in trouble. She never, ever says things like that.

  “Aloha oe,” grandma said. Love forever? Man, she was in some deep shit!

  He put a call through to Kono, but got his voice mail. He left a message outlining his concerns. He lay down on the bed, firing up the remote. On TV, was an old Robert Mitchum movie, The Yakuza. He’d had enough Yakuza to last a lifetime. He changed the channel and found that crazy-assed TV chef Andrew Zimmern eating a giant grilled spider and declaring it to be tasty. He changed the channel again and hunted for something that, just for a little while, would make him feel as if the world was a beautiful place.

  * * * *

  Kono bunked down in the station. There were four single-bed bunks, camp-style in a room wedged between the two main interview rooms. It was a great place to catch some Z’s when you were pulling double shifts, or when you just didn’t want to go home. It was alarming how many guys in Far Rockaway didn’t want to go home. Sometimes, you could hear intense interrogations going on in the interview rooms. Kono was always intrigued by different cops’ interviewing techniques. Now, it was quiet. Most of the squad cars were patrolling the beaches and parks, which became hot zones at night without heavy police presence. The rotating pairs of homicide and violent crime units were off doing their thing. Two drunks lolled in holding cells and the front desk crew was watching a UFC fight on TV.

  All was quiet on the Far Rockaway front.

  He lay back on the narrow bed staring at the blank walls. He was safer here than anywhere, besides there was coffee here and, thanks to the Loo’s thoughtfulness, Chinese food. He ran over everything in his mind. The D.A. in charge of the Harada trial had been informed of the sting operation. Shiro had been briefed.