by Sharon Sala
“Thank you, my love. I am ready.”
“The car is waiting downstairs,” he said.
They walked together to the elevator, then together across the hotel lobby and out to their waiting car—a new black Lexus, shining like a mirror in the morning sun.
The driver opened the back door as they approached.
“Mr. Ito?”
Ken nodded.
“My name is William. I will be your driver today.”
“This car is beautiful,” Kaho said, as she and Ken were seated.
“Only the best for you,” Ken said, then gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Stay strong for me. Today will not be easy.”
“I am prepared,” Kaho said, but her voice was trembling. “Where do we go first?”
“To the police station to sign papers for Yuki’s body to be shipped home.”
Ken handed the driver the address.
“Please buckle up,” the driver said. “Traffic is bad.”
Kaho reached for her belt with shaking hands, but Ken fastened it for her, buckled his own, then, for privacy’s sake, spoke quietly to her in Japanese.
“We are together.”
She nodded but threaded her fingers through his, just as a reminder.
* * *
When Detective Trotter received the text that Ken Ito and his wife were on their way to his office, he sent a quick text back to let them know the message was received, and that there would be an officer in the lobby who would bring them to his office.
But then he looked around at his office, realized what it really looked like and grabbed a handful of paper towels and began dusting off his desk, then dusted off the guest chairs.
Then he noticed the dust on the floor, cursed beneath his breath and stepped outside his office and yelled across the room at the other detectives.
“I need a dust mop! Anyone?”
One of the detectives looked up from her desk and grinned.
“Who’s coming, the Queen of England?”
“No, grieving parents from Japan,” he said.
The smirk died on her face. “I’ll find one. Be right back,” she said, and left the office at a lope.
Less than five minutes later she was back with a dust mop and a can of air freshener. “Get out! I’ll do it, but keep in mind I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for the parents.”
A second detective got up. “I’ll help you,” he said. She handed him the dust mop. “Sweep behind me as we go.”
“Will do,” he said.
Trotter exited without arguing.
It didn’t take them long to clean up, then she sprayed the room with air freshener before they exited.
“There, and it smells better, too,” she said, as Trotter started back inside his office “What the hell is in your desk? Last week’s tuna fish?”
Trotter’s eyes widened, and then he loped into the office to check his drawers. He didn’t see or smell anything, and when he turned around and looked back across the room at the detective, she was grinning.
He resisted the urge to flip her off and yelled, “Thank you,” instead.
Within minutes, he got a call from the lobby that the officer was on his way up with the parents, then smoothed his hair down and straightened his tie. The file on Yuki Ito was in front of him, along with the release papers they would need to sign. He had already gathered up all the information they would need to get his body out of the country.
Adam Ito had given up the temporary address of the apartment where they’d been staying to the Feds, so they could recover Yuki’s personal belongings.
Trotter had to admit this had been one of the more gruesome cases he’d worked. Between the kill shot and the rats, it wasn’t something he would easily forget.
Then he looked up and saw the officer coming with the family in tow, and got up to meet them at the door.
The officer paused.
“Detective Trotter, Mr. and Mrs. Ito are here to see you.”
“Thank you,” Trotter said, and then stepped aside. “Please come in. Have a seat. Can I get either of you anything to drink?”
Kaho glanced at her husband and shook her head.
“Nothing for us, but thank you,” Ken Ito said, as they sat down. “We want to get this over with. I’m sure you understand.”
“Yes, of course,” Trotter said, then got down to business, explaining the process of releasing a body for transport to another country. Ken signed his name on a variety of papers, then received a file with instructions as to how to proceed.
“I’m sorry this is so complicated, especially in a time of grief,” Trotter said. “I have one other thing for you,” he said, and picked up a large manila envelope. “These are Yuki’s personal belongings. They were retrieved from the apartment where they had been staying.”
For the first time since the whole conversation began, Ken seemed shaken by the offer. Because he hesitated, his wife, who had not uttered a word since their arrival, suddenly made her presence known.
“My son,” she said firmly, and extended her hand.
Trotter gave her the envelope, which she clutched firmly against her breasts. He was beginning to think they were unmoved by the whole process, until he saw a tear rolling down her cheek. He started to offer a tissue and then feared she would not appreciate him calling attention to her grief, so he did nothing.
“That finishes up my part,” Trotter said. “Do you have any questions?”
“Yes. How do we get to the prison hospital where Adam is being held, and what do we need to be allowed to visit?” Ken asked.
Trotter blinked. He hadn’t thought about them wanting to see the murderer, then realized from their point of view, he was another son. One who had committed an unforgivable sin, but their son, just the same.
“I’ll give you the address and will call the warden myself to clear your arrival. Be prepared to have your person and your belongings checked. It is a prison, after all.”
Ken nodded once. “Understood. The address, if you please?” And this time, he had no trouble holding out his hand.
Detective Trotter double-checked the address to make sure he wasn’t sending them to the wrong location and then wrote down the warden’s name, as well.
Ken took the information and slipped the paper into the pocket of his suit coat.
“Thank you for your help,” Ken said, as he and his wife stood in unison.
“Of course,” Trotter said. “I’ll walk you to the door. The officer who brought you up is waiting to escort you down, and again, my sympathies for your loss.”
As he’d promised, the officer was just outside the door. They were on their way to the elevator when Trotter hurried back to his office to call the warden.
* * *
Adam Ito was shaking and crying from the pain as the doctor on duty peeled back bandages to check the surgery areas. The gauze had stuck to the stitches and staples, and to the bolts holding the bones in his feet together, and at this point, there wasn’t an easy way to do it.
Adam was also handcuffed to the bed with chains long enough for him to feed himself, but not long enough to do anyone damage, including himself.
Dr. Grimley had seen frightening men with far worse injuries than these, but there was one thing they all had in common. Without drugs and the weapons that made them feel tough—that gave them what they perceived as a “license to kill”—they all bled the same, and they all cried from the pain, and most of them cried for their mothers when they were dying. This one was doing enough crying, but he had yet to cry for Mama.
“Stop! Stop!” Adam wailed. “Can’t you see that’s stuck? Isn’t there a way to remove that gauze without taking scabs with it?”
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Grimley said. “It’s unfortunate that you are in this condition, but healing from
injuries is not a painless process.”
“Then give me some drugs to dull the pain!” Adam begged.
“I’m almost through here,” Grimley said. “And as soon as I confirm there’s no infections, we’ll bandage you back up again.”
“This is torture. Is it because it’s a prison? That’s it, isn’t it?” Adam shouted. “We’re not good enough for humane treatment.”
Dr. Grimley’s eyes narrowed. “I know how you got here. Do not utter the word humane in my presence again, understand?”
Adam thought about what this man could do to him, and without anyone being the wiser. So he entertained himself by thinking of how many ways he could kill this man without anyone knowing it was a murder, and pretended he was not lying in a prison ward with at least a dozen other men.
He was still plotting the deed when he heard voices, and then he saw the warden entering the ward, talking to the people walking behind him.
Now what? Adam wondered, as the warden stopped at the foot of his bed.
“Dr. Grimley, this is Mr. and Mrs. Ito. They have come to visit their son Adam. Since they came all the way from Japan, I have given them permission to visit for an hour...if they wish to stay that long.”
Adam’s heart almost stopped when he saw his father’s face and his mother standing beside him.
“No! I don’t want them here!” Adam shouted. “Make them leave!”
The warden frowned. “First, you don’t shout at me. You got yourself in here, and since there’s no likelihood that you will ever get yourself out, and they have come such a long way, surely you can spare a few moments to hear them out, don’t you think?”
“My father hates me! He’ll kill me,” Adam said.
“Nobody is dying in here today,” the warden said. Then he looked down at the couple standing by in silence. “Do you still wish to visit? It’s understandable if you want to change your mind.”
“We have things to say. It will not take an hour. We will notify your guard when we are ready to leave.”
The warden nodded and then shook Ken Ito’s hand. “If you have any further questions, the guard will bring you to my office. Otherwise, have a safe journey home.” He bowed awkwardly to Kaho Ito and walked away.
Ken looked at his son, and then the doctor. “Please finish your work quickly. We wish to speak to him in private. We won’t take long.”
Grimley was happy to accommodate. “Yes, sir. Give me five minutes.”
For the next five minutes, Ken never took his eyes off Adam’s face, and Adam was finally silent, paralyzed with fear.
As promised, Dr. Grimley finished and then even helped the nurse replace bandages. “We’re through here, and my apologies for keeping you waiting.”
“What about my pain pills?” Adam asked.
“I’ll write the order on your chart,” Grimley said, and left the ward.
The closest patient was three beds away, which was all the privacy they needed, but when Ken moved to the side of Adam’s bed, Kaho stayed at the foot of it, her gaze fixed on her son’s face.
Adam was pissed at being at a disadvantage. Being flat on his back in front of them was disconcerting. “After disowning Yuki and me, I’m curious as to what the fuck you two are doing here.”
“We were summoned,” Ken said. “We came to claim Yuki’s body.”
Adam’s face was flushed, first with guilt, then with anger. “Well, obviously Yuki isn’t here. And I am no longer your son, so that doesn’t answer my question.”
As Ken watched the rage moving across his son’s face and coloring the timbre of his voice, it occurred to him that if he was not incapacitated by wounds and handcuffed to his bed, he and Kaho could both be dead by their own son’s hands.
This, too, was his fault. What he should have done was refuse the cartel’s offer to get involved and shot Adam himself. Ken took a deep breath and glanced down at Kaho. It was for her. He’d taken their offer for her.
“Well, I’m waiting!” Adam said.
“You’re not going anywhere and we have an hour,” Ken snapped. “I have nothing to say to you, but we are here because of your mother. She is the one who has grieved her sons being banished.”
Adam shifted focus from his father to the woman standing at the foot of his bed. She was too quiet. He didn’t want to look at her, but he couldn’t look away. He felt like he had the day she’d caught him strangling their cat.
“Well, then, Mother? What is it you came all this way to say? You are part of the reason I’m here. Part of the reason Yuki’s dead. You chose him—” Adam gestured with his chin to his father “—over us, or you wouldn’t have let him banish us.”
“Stop talking!” Kaho said.
Adam opened his mouth, ready to defy the order, when the floodgates opened. Kaho Ito came at her oldest son with a fist upraised. Ken caught her before she could hit him.
Adam was in shock. She had never raised a hand to either of them. Ever. Then she began to whisper.
“Liar. Evil. Cunning. Soulless. Murderer.”
Adam felt the skin on his face growing hot, pulling taut across his bone structure, as if he’d moved too close to a flame. He tried to respond, but words wouldn’t come. Then she leaned closer.
“You are an abomination. You kill your own blood. I should have thrown you in the river once I’d realized what you were capable of, even as a child. I knew that you were bad, but I thought I could love the evil away.”
Adam heard the words coming out of her mouth as though he were in the bottom of a well. He was growing smaller and smaller and the well was getting deeper and deeper beneath her rage.
“I curse you. What days you have left on this earth, may you spend them in total agony, with fear as your pillow, and pain the blanket that smothers you in your sleep.”
Adam was beginning to shake. Ken Ito was almost as shocked as his son. Never had he heard Kaho utter words like this. Never would he have believed she even had these thoughts. He was staring at her like he’d never seen her before.
Kaho was oblivious to her husband’s shock, but it wouldn’t have stopped her. She’d stayed silent too long. She pointed to her son’s feet. Without touching them, she could see the wounds and the metal pins beneath the bandages. She could see the shattered knee and feel the broken bones beneath the skin as surely as if she’d run her fingers across their surfaces. Her voice grew softer, then softer still.
“Your feet will not heal. They will rot, like bad fruit on a vine. Your knee will fester, like the blackness in your heart. Like the demon in your brain. You no longer have your power. You no longer have your voice.”
Then she took a deep breath. It rattled like chicken bones in a dish as she inhaled. And then she pursed her lips and blew the breath out across the bed, across him, across his face, while the skin tightened even more.
Adam’s heart was racing. It felt like it was going to burst.
“I am done here,” Kaho said, and then walked away from Adam’s bed, leaving her husband to follow as he wished.
Adam started to yell at her. To call her foul names. To deny he ever loved her, but the words wouldn’t come. He took a breath and tried again, and then something inside him gave way. The left side of his face began to sag, as if it no longer had bones. Then he lost feeling in his left arm, all the way down his left leg to the foot.
He tried to cry for help, but the words...his words...his voice. He no longer had his voice. His mother had taken it away. She had neutered him with her curse.
But it was his own grief, his own guilt and shame and anguish that were undoing him.
He was struggling to breathe now, choking on the secretions of his own spit.
Help! Help me!
But no one heard, because the voice was only in his head.
A door slammed.
His eyes rolled frantically toward
the exit, but the guard was gone, walking them back out of the prison. He could hear the nurse in the other room, still talking on the phone. The other patients in the ward were too sick to care, or unaware because they slept.
The first voice that popped up in his head was startling. He’d always known they were there, but they’d only been whispers. This one was talking to him in his native language. Then another joined in, talking back in English, then in French.
Adam shuddered. Go away. Crawl back under the bridge. Go away.
One of them cackled.
Adam closed his eyes, begging in a silent plea. Somebody kill me now.
Then the first voice said, We cannot leave now. We’ve just arrived.
* * *
Ken helped Kaho into the Lexus, then directed their driver to take them back to their hotel.
“Please buckle up,” the driver said.
“Yes, because the traffic is terrible,” Kaho said.
She buckled herself in and then leaned her head against her husband’s shoulder and closed her eyes.
Ken buckled his own seat belt, made sure that Kaho was comfortable and then held her hand as she slept, but his head was spinning. He didn’t know whether he was holding on to her because she’d frightened him, or because he needed her to know he was not the enemy.
The drive was made in silence. Kaho slept. Ken spent the time gazing out the windows into the city that had been his first son’s world. On the surface, it was just another metropolis. But nothing was ever as it seemed. Not even the people you thought you knew.
Kaho mumbled something beneath her breath. He looked back out the window. Part of him wished he had left her at home, but at the same time, he acknowledged that he would have had to bury her upon his return. She needed to face all in order to get through it. To hide from it back in Japan would have meant collapsing underneath all the grief.
He wondered now, as the distance grew between them and Adam, if this was to be his punishment for the life he had led. Losing both sons, and then learning his wife held more power in the breath from her body than he did with his vast fortune and the men and guns at his constant disposal.
