Sharky's Machine

by William Diehl

  “His enemy was T’un Hai, the two-headed blood snake of the dark world, for it was believed that the snake tore the souls of the dead to pieces and scattered them to the sea. Only Chiang-Yuan could save them and lead them to everlasting peace in the kingdom of the Jade Emperor.

  “And so it was in the time of the boy emperor Ping, eight hundred years ago. The young king loved Chiang-Yuan and believed that when an emperor died his soul lived on in the body of the dragon. And he believed also that in the eight mountain peaks surrounding Hong Kong there lived eight dragons, each with the soul of one of Ping’s ancestors. His prime minister told Ping that there would be another dragon when Ping died and it would live in the high mountain on the western side of the island of Hong Kong and it would be called Kow-Loon, which means ‘ninth dragon,’ and Ping’s soul would live in its great body and would protect the harbor and the souls of the dead from T’un Hai.

  “When Ping passed on, the dragon Kow-Loon appeared on the western peak and its soul was the soul of Ping and Kow-Loon went forth on the island in search of T’un Hai and in the place now known as Tiger Balm Gardens he found the snake of lost souls in a cave. T’un Hai came from the cave and attacked Kow-Loon and they fought for twenty-three days and nights until the earth was scorched from Kow-Loon’s fiery breath and the earth was scarred from their battle and the hills fell into the sea. The earth trembled. A great earthquake shook the island and the people escaped to the sea in their sampans and waited until the battle was over and T’un Hai slid into the sea and was never seen again.

  “And since that time Kow-Loon has protected Hong Kong and many people still live on sampans so they will be safe if T’un Hai ever returns and there is another great battle and the earth trembles again.”

  Heida closed her eyes and bowed her head. The story was over.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Lowenthal sat back and stared at the young lady, entranced by the story and by her visual interpretation. “No,” he said, “it is I who thank you. I’m very touched by your story. You tell it with great passion.”

  “It is only because my father told it to me with passion, for he believed the story, just as he believed that when he died he would ride on the back of the dragon horse to the place where the August Supreme Emperor of Jade resides.”

  “And do you believe the story?” Lowenthal asked.

  A smile touched her lips. “Hai. Of course. I believe it because it is a legend that sings with truth.” She reached inside her blouse and took out a thin gold chain with a gold pendant hanging from it. On the pendant in bas relief was the tiny figure of a dragon, grinning ferociously, his head crouching between his five-toed feet. “It is always around my neck,” she said, “even when I sleep. It protects me from T’un Hai.”

  DeLaroza thanked her and she bowed and was gone.

  “I must say, you make all of this very real,” Lowenthal said. “I wonder why it is that Easterners have much more interesting and dramatic gods than we Westerners.”

  “You Westerners,” DeLaroza said with a smile. “I am a Buddhist. But enough of that. Let us talk about the campaign. Needless to say, I am delighted you have joined us.”

  “So far you seem to be doing just fine without me.”

  “So far we have played in our own territory.”

  Wan Shu arrived with the first of many dishes, what appeared to be tiny chicken wings covered with a clear sauce. “This looks delicious,” Lowenthal said. “What is it?”

  “Well, it is hardly what we would call chia-ch’ang-pien-fan—everyday food—in China. You eat the whole thing, the bones and all. Just chew it well. They are sparrow wings.”

  Lowenthal paused in mid-bite and there was a moment when he seemed to be wondering whether to go on or not.

  “Please, do not stop,” DeLaroza said. “Heida mentioned the Feast of the Dragon Door. What Wan Shu is preparing is a meal based on that feast. There will be some rare delicacies, such as these sparrow wings. Also quail, elephant trunk, sturgeon intestines, bear paw, and deer tail, along with more traditional fare. The meal for two hundred guests will cost one hundred thousand dollars.”

  “That’s five hundred dollars a meal!”

  “Exactly. The banquet originated during the time of the Emperor Tsi Tzu of the Sung Dynasty, about seven hundred years ago. It usually went on for days. I have eliminated some of the more exotic dishes. Peacock tongues, monkey brains, gorilla lips.”

  “Gorilla lips?”

  “A truly rare delicacy in China. But I don’t want to discourage any of the guests.”

  “Elephant trunk and deer tails may take care of that.”

  DeLaroza leaned forward and winked. “We won’t tell them until after they’ve eaten.”

  The sparrow wings actually were quite delicious and Lowenthal finished them with relish. He sat back and said, “Tell me, what took you from Brazil to Hong Kong?”

  “I see you have been checking up on me.”

  Lowenthal shrugged. “There’s not much to check up on, actually.”

  “I have always avoided publicity. A quirk of mine.”

  “Modesty hardly becomes you,” Lowenthal said, motioning to the spectacle of Pachinko!

  “I am about to change my image.”

  He chuckled and then the chuckle became a hearty laugh.

  “Fate dictated the move to Hong Kong,” he said. “I was on holiday in the Orient and visited the plant of a gentleman named Loo who manufactured radios, which also happened to be my business. Mr. Loo was in trouble. His company was undercapitalized and a British concern was about to buy him out. But the British were stupid. They would have engulfed him, eaten him up. Loo’s strength was his ability to produce components cheaply. His weakness was assembly and marketing. So I formed a partnership with him. He produced the parts; I assembled and sold them. We were highly competitive and the merger was quite successful. Had I bought Loo out, as the British proposed to do, I would have lost his expertise. A man always works better for himself than for others.”

  “And how did you get into the toy business?”

  “Fate again. This time an accident of nature. Loo had a side venture, producing toys for the tourist trade, cheap little items. Our electronics plant was seriously damaged in the 1961 typhoon, but the toy company was hardly touched. While we were undergoing repairs I decided to concentrate on toys. Before long it was—how do you put it?”

  “The tail wagging the dog?”

  “Yes. The Chinese might express it more poetically, but the Americans are more to the point. It was soon after that I met Nikos Arcurius. Now the tail wags many dogs.”

  “Where does Hotchins come into the scenario?”

  “I decided to move to the United States. This is the marketplace. Also the place to assemble and sell products. My company was the first to make that move. At the time Donald was in the state—Congress?”

  “Legislature,” said Lowenthal.

  “Right. He was about to run for governor. He sponsored a law that made it advantageous for us to come to his state. We became friends and I offered my business knowledge to the campaign.”

  “You are really quite savvy to American politics for a …” He hesitated, letting the sentence hang.

  “Foreigner?” DeLaroza said. “The word does not offend me, although I am now an American citizen. I have studied politics all my life. It is not a hobby, it is an avocation. Not only American. British, French, Chinese, German.”

  “And what attracted you to Hotchins?”

  DeLaroza considered the question for a few moments. “Aristotle once wrote that law is reason without passion. Hotch is a man of law and a man of passion. I found the combination irresistible. He is also quite honest. In fact blunt at times.”

  “Pretty good answer.”

  “And how would you answer the question?”

  Lowenthal toyed with his wine glass, making small circles on the table top. “A lot of things. He’s a winner. I guess that must be number one. We need a
winner badly. He’s a self-made man. A lawyer and a businessman. And he’s tough. Anybody who can survive four years in a Korean prison camp with his foot blown off is tough. So far he doesn’t seem to owe anybody. Somebody once said, ‘Capitalism gives all of us a great opportunity if we seize it with both hands and hang on to it.’ I think the man on the street wants to believe that again.”

  “An interesting comment. Who said that?”

  “Al Capone,” Lowenthal said and they both laughed.

  “There are some things I want to make sure of,” Lowenthal went on. “Anything.”

  “Is he clean, Victor? I mean is he really clean?”

  A vision of Domino flashed before DeLaroza and then it vanished. A danger he hoped no longer existed.

  “Is anybody that clean, Mr. Lowenthal? Richelieu told one of his bishops once, ‘Give me six sentences written by the most innocent man and I will find something in them to hang him.’ I assure you, Donald can withstand any scrutiny.”

  “Excellent. Will his wife make a good campaigner?”

  DeLaroza nodded. “And a find First Lady.”

  Lowenthal nodded, but there was still doubt in his expression.

  “What else?” DeLaroza asked.

  “I am concerned about opening the campaign this soon. I know that you have very carefully designed his strategy, but it is contradictory to the normal campaign strategy, coming out this soon. For one thing the cost will be staggering to keep a bandwagon rolling that long.”

  “Cost is not a factor. We can afford it.”

  “Also it makes him a public target for that much longer.”

  DeLaroza’s eyebrows rose. “At this point he is virtually an unknown quantity. We are not selling a dark horse, we are selling an unknown horse. That is why we plan to open the campaign here, Monday night. We have some political supporters already on hand. We have tremendous press exposure. Hotch must have a chance to become not only a household word but a face to go with it.”

  “I agree with that. But to go on the campaign trail for ten months? It’s scary.”

  “Just think. Monday he makes his announcement. Tuesday you make yours. Wednesday he will be in Dallas for the opening of the new Merchandise Mart there.”

  Lowenthal smiled. “It’ll knock Fitz on his Irish blueblood ass.”

  “And send the competition into a panic. Who will throw down the gauntlet first? Which one will try to follow his lead? The old-timers cannot afford the public exposure for too long. They have already made their views known. They will become boring and die of attrition.”

  “There’s still Fitzgerald.”

  “We have some surprises for him, too. How do you think this Fitzgerald will react when he discovers we do not need his money?”

  “He won’t believe us.”

  “Good. When he finds out it will be too late.” DeLaroza leaned forward and lowered his voice. “The planning is done already. It is totally computerized. Every state, every county, every city, demographically charted. Voting histories recorded. Voting records of party leaders recorded. Complete dossiers on prospective competitors. We can tell you how much it will cost to have a barbecue in Topeka, Kansas, next year. Availability of assembly halls. Key political dates. Everything you need to know, available with a press of the finger.”

  Lowenthal was impressed. “Well …” he started and then stopped.

  “And now about you, sir. The Chinese have a proverb—’The beginning of wisdom is calling a thing by its right name.’”

  “In other words, let’s be blunt?”

  “Yes, let us be blunt.”

  Here it comes, thought Lowenthal. Now it’s his turn.

  “What do you want out of all this?” DeLaroza said.

  I’ll outlast him, Lowenthal thought, with word games.

  “I’m an idealist,” Lowenthal said. “Idealists never want anything for themselves.”

  “Hmm. I have always thought that an effective idealist is one who gets what he wants in such a way that the public thinks he is doing them a favor by taking it.”

  Lowenthal laughed. He held up his glass to DeLaroza. “Good shot.”

  “We were going to be blunt.”

  All right, Lowenthal said to himself, what the hell.

  “I want to be attorney general.”

  DeLaroza settled back in his chair and slapped his hands together. “Well, sir, that is what I call the beginning of wisdom. And what is the problem?”

  “I don’t think there is any. I’d make one hell of an attorney general.”

  “No question about it. And as I see it, no competition. So, will you think about our plan to announce here on Monday? Sleep on it. We can talk in the morning, over breakfast. Donald should be back late tomorrow afternoon, hopefully with Senator Thurston’s endorsement, and I am sure it will be the first thing he will want to know.”

  Lowenthal nodded and lifted his glass again. “To sleeping on it,” he said with a smile.

  “No, sir. To victory.”

  _____________________

  On the sixteenth floor of the Mirror Towers, DeLaroza’s holding company, Internaco, maintained a guest apartment, a handsomely decorated suite, its silk-draped windows overlooking the city. There were two keys to the suite. One was given to the guest, the other was kept by the guard. After sending Lowenthal back to his hotel in his private limousine, DeLaroza took an elevator to the apartment. He stood outside the door listening for several moments and then very quietly slipped the guard’s key into the lock and opened the door.

  Howard Burns, standing in front of the windows, staring out through a cold haze that circled the city in the wind, was captivated by the city lights, which looked like hazy shards in a kaleidoscope. He heard the key enter the lock and the door open. He whirled, crouching as he did. The wine glass clattered off into a corner and the .22 Woodsman appeared in its place, like a coin in a magician’s sleight-of-hand trick.

  “It’s me!” DeLaroza screamed, falling back against the doorjamb.

  Burns stared at him with a flash of white hate, his hands trembling, his trigger finger twitching in the steel guard. He stood that way for a very long time and then slowly bent his elbow and pointed the weapon at the ceiling. The hand was shaking.

  “That’s how close you came,” he said nodding to his hand. “Walk in on me like that, from behind, no knock, no nothin’. Whatsa matter, you crazy?”

  “I thought you’d be asleep. I thought after …”

  “Asleep? Who you shittin’, asleep? I’m high. I’m up there somewhere. I blew a chippie’s head off an hour or two ago. Whadya mean, sleep?”

  “I am sorry, I, uh, I don’t know …”

  “No, that’s right. Somebody always does it for you. No powder burns on your lily whites, is there? Shit, lookit that, I spilled my fuckin’ drink. You don’t walk in behind somebody!”

  “All right, all right.”

  Burns went to the wet bar and poured himself another glass of Bertolucci red wine and plunked an ice cube in it. “I seen that circus downstairs. I sneaked a look on the way up here,” he said.

  DeLaroza stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “You oughta be sweatin’, a dumbass play like that,” Burns said. “Thirty years you stay clean, then all of a sudden you’re gonna walk right out there on the trap door and spring the trap yourself. Whaddya want, me to tie the noose around your neck?”

  “It’s safe now. I have been working for this moment since 1945. The dangers have all been removed.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Listen to me, Howard—”

  “Bullshit. I scratch the colonel in Hong Kong, Corrigon shows up. I scratch Corrigon, there’s the dame. Now she’s outa the way, who’s next, hunh? Who’s gonna pop outa the box next? You think somewhere there ain’t somebody’s gonna look at that face of yours and start thinkin’ and then start rememberin’? Lemme tell ya, partner, I been livin’ like that fo
r seven years. A new name, new business, new place. Had to give up everything and live in Nebraska. Nebraska for Chrissakes. Shit, they don’t even get all the fuckin’ television stations in Nebraska. Took me two years to find a bookie. And with all that, see, with the Feds practically feedin’ me with a spoon, I was waitin’ every time I turned around to see somebody from the old life.”

  “It is thirty years for me,” DeLaroza said, “not nine. Nobody will recognize me. I do not even look like the same man.”

  “I’d spot you in a minute, kiddo. That phony accent, red beard, all that fat, that wouldn’t throw me.” Burns sipped on his wine, then added, “You bring it down, I go down with it, know what I mean?”

  “There is no way to put us together.”

  “Oh no? How about those Chinks on the boat? The gook that picked me up tonight? How about the guard downstairs when we come in?”

  “They have no idea who you are.”

  “Well, they ain’t blind, are they? One picture, pow! I’m made. They’ll dump me, don’t make no difference if I’m in Yokohama, Singapore, or the fuckin’ South Pole, I’m a gone gosling.”

  “Look, what you did with your life, I cannot do anything about that. I did something else. What you were is your business, what I am is mine.”

  Burns turned his back to DeLaroza and stared out the window again. He said, “This Domino, the one I burned, she was a hooker, you said.”

  “A very high class hooker.”

  “She have a pimp?”

  “Well, I suppose you could call …”

  “She had a pimp, right? And he didn’t know about this Hotchins, this pimp didn’t?”

  “No. Nobody knew.”

  “But he knows about you, right? He knows you knew her and he can tie you two together. All it takes is your name, they’ll be knockin’ at the door.”

  “He will not do that. He will put them on to many others before that.”

  “Shi-i-t. I gotta laugh.” He looked over his shoulder at DeLaroza. “I been in the rackets all my life. Had a couple dozen buttons on my payroll at the time. Know what a button is, DeLaroza? A shooter. Very loyal people. But if the need comes up that one of them has to go quiet, there’s only one way.”