Return from the Shadows-Ivan Dunn the Final Chapter

by Frank A. Perdue

  He was engaged to a beautiful girl of eighteen. Her name was Ioki Shimaru. They had made plans to marry in the next year when the war was over. There was no doubt in either of their minds the Americans would be defeated swiftly.

  Even after Isaru was sent to Guadalcanal they knew in their hearts he would return to her within the year.

  It was a year that changed Isaru forever, but not the way he expected. Shortly after he left for the island jungle Tokyo was bombed by Doolittle and his men. Ioki was critically injured as an industrial building where she’d been working collapsed after being struck by one of the bombs. The beautiful civilian was buried in rubble for two days before being found and hospitalized. She was barely alive. A letter sent by her parents describing the disaster didn’t arrive on the embattled island until nearly nine months later. Ioki died from her wounds, but that notice too came very late. It was in mid 1943 before Isaru learned the whole truth.

  The lovely girl he had planned to marry, have three children with, and grow old watching them age, was lost to him forever. Almost immediately the boy was transformed into a battle-hardened killer. He no longer cared whether he lived or died, so the fear of death was lifted from his conscience. It was bad news for the Americans. He volunteered for special missions into the jungle alone, where he cut the throats of many unsuspecting soldiers and marines.

  He was pulled from Guadalcanal just before the island fell to the Allies. He was a hero to the Japanese people, and he was paraded from city to city in the Empire to show all was not lost, and to gain physical and monetary support for the war effort. Isaru hated his assignment and when he finally was sent to the camp at Hiroshima he was both happy and a little disappointed that he would again be within sight of the mortal enemy who had taken his Ioki from him. He wouldn’t be able to kill any of them, unless they tried to escape, but he could inflict pain in other ways.

  It was inevitable the embittered soldier would take his frustration for being discarded, as he thought of it, out on one of the American prisoners. That prisoner was the officer known as James Priestley. He seemed to be a leader looked up to by the others who were incarcerated, so to put him in his place Isaru took to using the butt of his rifle to Jeb’s lower back. It wasn’t long before the beatings took their toll. Jeb complained of pain in his right kidney, and he was taken to the infirmary.

  After three days he was returned to the prison compound, minus one very banged up kidney. The operation was performed by a town doctor who was very proficient. The scar from the surgeon’s knife was reasonably small. Jeb was given no pain medication after the operation, and his discomfort was excruciating for another three days and nights.

  He knew then, if he wanted to survive, he must escape. The opportunity presented itself sooner than he expected when a laundry truck pulled up near to where he was working outside doing some landscaping. When he seemed to have no lingering effects from the operation he had been given light duty outside.

  Undetected, he wedged himself over the crankshaft beneath the vehicle. His arms bracing himself were becoming weary when he heard the engine of the big truck. Gradually, as the truck began moving, he felt the heat of the metal touching him. The truck stopped at the gate and he was sure the guards would find him, but in a few seconds the big vehicle was again on its way.

  About ten minutes later, as the truck labored up a hill, Jeb dropped to the dirt covered road, flattening himself in such a way the rear tires would miss him.As the enemy truck disappeared over the top of the hill he quickly ran into the trees surrounding the road. He was free! He took a deep breath, inhaling the air that suddenly smelled and tasted different. Free air is better than captive air, that’s for sure.

  He’d made no plans beyond getting away from the camp. Suddenly the realization came to him that there was no place to run. He wasn’t familiar with the area. He thought if he could make his way to the sea, he might be picked up by sympathetic fishermen, but that wasn’t realistic. And it wasn’t as if he could blend in with the townspeople. Of course there was a distinct difference in their looks. He wondered how far he was from the strait separating Japan from Korea. He began walking west, guided by the position of the Sun.

  It was inevitable that he would be detected. He tried his best to remain hidden from sight, using the trees and shrubs. After walking what seemed like ten miles, as the daylight was beginning to fade he came upon a highway. There was traffic, but it was not heavy. He decided to wait until dark had completely settled in before attempting to cross. Of all things, time was not a factor. He had no deadline.

  It would have been much easier had he been in Europe, and captured by the Nazis. They at least looked similar, and there would be a chance he could make it to an Allied outpost after escaping. There was no such sanctuary in Japan.

  There was a lull in traffic, and Jeb sprinted across the highway to the trees lining the other side. No one saw him. He continued walking, glad he had shoes with good soles. The land was sprinkled with thorny bushes. He remembered when his shoes had been replaced. It was on Okinawa just before he’d been transferred. He had holes in both soles, and, in just about the only act of sympathy he’d seen since his capture at sea, other than Yasmin Shigehara, a guard gave him the shoes of a prisoner who had died the day before. The deceased had not been captive long, so his shoes were still useable.

  It was nearly midnight, though Jeb didn’t know it, when he came upon a farm. He’d had nothing to eat or drink since his escape, and he thought perhaps there’d be something there. He was sure he could find some fruit or vegetables in the surrounding ground, or on the trees, but he really needed water. Perhaps there was a well.

  The only light was emanating from a large house nearby. He was maybe fifty feet from there, and it was extremely dark. He was standing next to an outbuilding, perhaps an outhouse. It was very small, and only about six feet high. It had even occurred to him to drink urine if he couldn’t find something more suitable.

  Suddenly the door to the big house opened, and a woman was silhouetted in the light escaping. “Is someone out there?” She asked, plaintively, in Japanese. He must have been heard when he opened the door to what was in fact an outhouse.

  The woman stepped out on her porch, after turning on an outside light. She was definitely Japanese, and young, under thirty he estimated. She looked vaguely familiar. It was Yasmin Shigehara!

  Chapter Nineteen

  I was surprised to see Everett Paulsen on my doorstep. I wondered to what I owed the pleasure of his company. It didn’t occur to me he might be assigned to the murder case next door. The detective I’d been interviewed by the first time seemed to be in charge of the investigation. If Paulsen had indeed taken over the case, that would be a welcome addition. Our history together was amicable if not pleasant.

  “Hello Ivan, long time no see.”

  “Detective Paulsen, it’s good to see you.” That wasn’t entirely correct, but I felt he was an improvement over the last guy.

  “I don’t need to go over what you’ve already deposed, but I wanted to touch base with you regarding what you know about your neighbor, any secrets he might have divulged to you for instance.”

  The blonde Norwegian was very articulate. I remembered that from our last meeting. “No, no secrets. He was a very private guy. The only time we talked at all was when he drove me to the hospital to see Rachel. That was four years ago. We haven’t spoken since, except to wave hello when we both were out by the curb at the same time. I’m sorry to say I didn’t even know his name until yesterday, after he was killed.”

  “Then maybe we’ll have to go on the assumption that he was a model citizen, and this is all about you. What do you think?”

  I was tempted to tell him about Harold Lambright, and the chance he might be here in town, but I thought that was a stretch. The guy could hide in a whole lot of country, and maybe start a new life. It would be ridiculous to think he would jeopardize that by coming after me, or Rachel. I got a chill thinking about her bei
ng in danger.

  I tried to make light of it. “Why would anyone want to hurt me? I’m such a lovable character.”

  “Funny. I need you to give me a list of anyone you put in jail, or antagonized while you were a private investigator.” It wouldn’t have occurred to him to use the word “dick.” He was that proper.

  “I can do that. It’s a short list. I wasn’t in that profession long.”

  “You need to be straight with me Ivan. I’m on your side. I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything. You are not licensed to practice in this state. Use me. I’m paid to do this.”

  “Okay.” He was right. He had much better access to information and facilities than I did.“There was one guy. His name is Harold Lambright. We have a long history and he could be holding a grudge. He disappeared from Richmond, Virginia a few days ago, and he could be out here. He would have had time to make the trip, and he’s been violent before.”

  “That’s better. What does he look like?”

  “He’s a tall kid, maybe six-one. I say kid but I think he’s under twenty-five, with a slim build, at least the last time I saw him. He probably only weighs one sixty.”

  “What color is his hair?”

  “Blonde. He wore it combed straight back the last time we met.”

  “That’s pretty good information. I’ll put out an APB on him as a material witness. Maybe we’ll get lucky and bring him in. At worst we can eliminate him as a suspect.” He had another thought, “Do you think you can remember him well enough for a sketch artist to do a picture? That way we can put out a flyer too.”

  “I can try.”

  When Paulsen left I went looking for Joe. I found him in our study. He was looking at the books I’d accumulated over the years, detective stories mostly. I did have Psycho though. That didn’t really fall into the sleuth category. It was kind of in a class by itself.

  “You’ve got some collection here.” Joe said as I walked in.

  “Yeah, but I want to talk about something else.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Are you going to be around for a while? I mean, as a houseguest?”

  Joe screwed up his face, not really understanding what I was getting at. “Are you tired of us already?”

  “No, I didn’t mean to imply you should leave, just the opposite really. If you don’t have any plans to go house-hunting, or going out of town, you could really help me.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I think Rachel may be in danger.”

  “How come? You mean maybe the guy who killed your neighbor was after Rachel?”

  “Exactly. Maybe me too, but I can watch out for myself.”

  “So do you want me to shadow her? Should I tell her what’s going on?”

  I answered, “I think she has a pretty good idea about that.” And I added, “She’s pretty quick on the uptake. Just don’t let her go to town by herself, or just the girls. I doubt you could register a gun, even if you had one, but I’m going to buy one, and keep it here in the house. You’ll know where it is.”

  “The way you put it, I’m worried about Ariel and the kids. I think I’ll stash them in an apartment or rental house, just until we get this guy.”

  I liked the way he included himself. I was thinking it might not go too well for Harold Lambright if he messed with Joe. I said, “That’s probably a good idea. And thanks.”

  “No problemo. Didn’t know I spoke Spanish did you?” He said it with a big grin.

  I smiled. I hoped I didn’t put Joe in a position to be looking down the barrel of a gun from the wrong side.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jeb wanted to call out to her, but he was afraid. Maybe her father would hear. He knew from what she had told him that the older man was a staunch supporter of the Japanese Empire and all it stood for. He would not hesitate to turn Jeb over to the authorities.

  He stepped out into a clearing where Yasmin would be able to see him. She was only about forty feet from where he stood by the outhouse.

  When she recognized him, she just stood there for a second, and then she ran to where he was, stopping within an arm’s reach of him. “James san, you are taking a terrible risk being here.” But she made no move to back away. Instead she took his arm and, tugging gently, she pulled him with her to the main house.

  When he was safely inside she released her grip and stepped back. “They are looking everywhere for you. How did you get away?”

  Maybe he was imagining it, but her facial expression showed happiness at seeing him, or perhaps it was relief that he lived. At any rate he felt safe, at least for the moment. “I hid under a laundry truck. I was lucky.”

  “They will kill you when they find you. Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think it out very well. I just saw a chance to get away and I took it.”

  “You will be safe here for a few days. My father will not return from the city until this weekend.”

  “I don’t want to put you in any danger.” He meant it, but he was completely in her hands.

  The next few days were almost like a honeymoon, except for the sex of course. She had a few days off from the hospital. She rose early to complete the chores associated with their farm. He didn’t dare go outside to help, but he washed and dried the dishes, and made the beds, (he slept on a couch in the living room.) She had hesitated to let him use her father’s bed.

  To be sure the father’s return wouldn’t occur before Jeb had exited the premises. He planned to leave late Thursday after dark. He would continue making his way west in hopes of finding a sympathetic fisherman who would take him to Korea. It seemed to be his only hope.

  On Thursday near noon, when they were sitting down to lunch, a knock sounded on the front door. Jeb, alarmed, scurried into a back bedroom, located the window, and was ready to exit hurriedly.

  It was only a few minutes later that Yasmin entered the bedroom. When the door opened Jeb climbed up to the window sill, and he was hanging half in half out when she let out a roar. “You look so funny.” And she continued laughing as he climbed back into the room.

  “I don’t think it’s funny. You scared me to death.”

  “I’m sorry James San, it was just a messenger from town. He gave me a note from my father.” She held out the piece of paper.

  “I can’t read Japanese. What does it say?” “He did not want me to worry. He’s staying in town over the weekend, and he will return sometime August sixth.” And she added, “That’s Monday. We’ll have the entire weekend. Isn’t that wonderful?” She demonstrated her joy at the news by coming into his arms, and kissing him on the cheek.

  Not to miss an opportunity, he pulled her closer, and looked down into her large brown eyes. She made no move to pull away. He kissed her on her waiting lips, softly at first. It was almost a grateful gesture, for he would probably be dead were it not for her. Then the kiss became something else. It sealed the bargain they both felt; that they would become lovers.

  That night he slept in her feather bed, at those times when their embrace was not passionate. He felt a tenderness with Yasmin he couldn’t remember ever experiencing before, except for that one time long ago when he was seventeen years old, and his partner was Rachel Embree.

  Over that weekend they were at times like children, learning about each other, and at other times they were passionate lovers. She was only twenty-four while he was forty-three. That did not matter to her. He was not able to take a chance wandering outside the farmhouse, for fear of being seen, so she had to do all the work of the property while he waited patiently to hold her the minute she reentered the house.

  Temporarily forgotten in the heat of their passion was his predicament, and the reality they would be separated soon. When her father returned on Monday the man she knew as James Priestley would have to leave, on a journey that had little chance of succeeding.

  No one could know what fate had in store for them on Monday, August sixth, 1945, that it would change the live
s of everyone on the planet.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  As usual they awoke early that Monday morning. Though each was reluctant to leave the other’s arms they both knew a part of their lives was ending. They couldn’t know just how much it would change, but that would come quickly.

  After completing the menial work, Yasmin dressed in her nursing uniform. She’d given Jeb some of her father’s clothes, so he wouldn’t be quite so conspicuous. They ate a casual breakfast, sometimes stopping to hold hands.

  It would take her over an hour to reach the prison camp, and she should have left before seven, but she couldn’t make herself leave her lover. It was eight-ten when they both finally walked out onto the farmhouse porch.

  She reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead and he reacted by pulling her close once more. Their embrace was desperate. There was a finality neither was ready to accept. “I love you James.” The words came without thought, but the feeling was genuine.

  He was about to reciprocate, when the ground shook. “Earthquake!” he said instead, as he pulled Yasmin away from the building that might fall on them.

  Once in the yard, they both noticed a huge cloud off to the south. They thought it strange that a thunderstorm would occur in an otherwise clear sky. Before long the cloud took on the appearance of a giant mushroom.

  At that point neither of them knew what happened, but Jeb had a feeling something wasn’t right. “Do you have a radio here?”

  “Yes, but I must go. I am already very late.”

  “I know, but this will just take a minute. If something like an explosion happened, surely it will be on the radio. I can’t understand Japanese, so you’ll have to stay and translate it for me.”

  “All right.” They went back in the house, and Yasmin turned on the radio. There was nothing but static.