Samurai Code, page 27
part #4 of A Jack Taggart Mystery Series
At four o’clock, Jack and Laura were hustled into a hotel room. Inside were four more men. The man who let them in was Japanese and was dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt and a black tie.
The other three men seated in the room looked to be Thai, except their skin was slightly darker. Perhaps Burmese or Cambodian, guessed Jack. Two of them were dressed in long khaki-coloured cargo pants and wore dark blue golf shirts that weren’t tucked in.
The third man wore black slacks and a white golf shirt. He stood up and the other two quickly followed suit, both of them standing erect, like they were at attention. It was obvious that they worked for the man in the white golf shirt. Something about him seemed odd. Jack returned his cold, hard stare. He knew he was looking at the man with the dead eyes.
“You will accompany Mister Sato into the bedroom,” said Lee. “A table has been set up in there. He has some questions to ask you.”
“I would like to meet your boss first,” said Jack. “There are some things I would like to discuss with him.”
“Please do not delay,” replied Lee nervously. “You must answer Mister Sato’s questions first. I beg you.”
“Laura,” said Jack, “I am sure you do not wish to sit in a bedroom with a bunch of men you don’t know. Go find the lounge and we’ll meet you there for a drink after.”
“No,” replied the man with the dead eyes. “Nobody is to leave this room until we are finished.”
“And you are?” asked Jack.
“Da Khlot. You would be wise to obey.”
Laura took a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders indifferently. “I’ll be okay, honey.” She smiled at Lee while Jack and Sato went into the bedroom and closed the door.
Two of the men took their chairs and moved them between the bedroom door and the entrance door to the room. The third man remained by the window, seated beside Da Khlot.
Laura moved toward the man sitting with Da Khlot and smiled. “May I sit there?” she asked, gesturing with her hand.
The man started to rise.
“No!” ordered Da Khlot, closing the drapes. “You sit on the floor.”
“Up yours,” replied Laura. “I’ll sit where I damn well feel like.”
“Please,” interrupted Lee, looking at Da Khlot. “Do not treat her like a prisoner. Western women are not accustomed to taking orders.” He looked at Laura and said, “Please, sit on the bed with me. We can watch television.”
Da Khlot’s impassive face did not change, but a slight nod of his head gave Laura permission and she sat on the end of the bed between Lee and the man with the yellow T-shirt.
Lee leaned toward the television remote, but Da Khlot said, “Mister Sato said there was to be no television, no radio, and no talking. We just wait.”
Laura waited as the seconds ticked past to eventually become minutes. She strained to listen, but could only hear the murmur of voices from the next room. She could smell the sweat and feel the dampness from the arms and legs of the two men she sat between.
From his chair by the window, Da Khlot continued to stare at her, his face blank as to what he was thinking. It was his eyes that portrayed a sense that he was lacking in any human emotion. What could cause a person to become like that?
Laura did not know about children swinging pickaxes, or screaming people turning into corpses in muddy ditches sodden with blood. If she had, perhaps she would have understood. It would not have eased her fear, but she would have understood the true nature of the man she faced.
At five-thirty, the bedroom door opened quietly and Sato appeared. He shook his head, a sign that caused Laura to speculate on her chances of running and diving into the drapes and through a glass window.
“We are not finished,” said Sato, looking at Lee. “Only the first part. I need to go to the bathroom and then he will be hooked to the polygraph.”
“Is it going well?” asked Lee.
Sato paused, appearing to be in deep thought, but replied, “I do not have an answer for you yet. Nothing definitive. Inconclusive about — well, let me say that we have reached a stage where I can elicit more penetrating questions. You will soon know.”
At six o’clock, Sato abruptly flung open the door and everyone leaped to their feet. He strode across the floor to Lee and pointing his finger back toward the bedroom he said, “That man is either a police officer or is working for the police!”
“No!” cried Lee, as the panic swept across his face. “Maybe you made a mistake?”
“No mistake and no doubt,” replied Sato.
Laura felt like she was drugged. Life appeared in slow motion. She rose from the bed and stepped forward, catching a glimpse of Jack in the bedroom, still sitting in a chair, with a strap around his chest and wires dangling from his fingers.
The two men in front of her pulled pistols from under their shirt and pointed them at Jack. Laura felt Da Khlot’s hand slip over her mouth and the sharp point of a knife on the back of her neck.
35
At four o’clock that afternoon, Sammy realized something had gone wrong. He sent one car racing north while he took the road south, back to Lamai. The van was not located until five o’clock, parked at the Pavilion resort.
Another tense meeting took place in Sammy’s room.
“Goddamn it! Goddamn it! Goddamn it!” Sammy cursed as he paced back and forth. “I knew I shouldn’t have let them do it! It’s my fucking fault!”
“What are —”
“Shut the fuck up,” muttered Sammy to his subordinate. “I’m thinking.” He turned to the Thai policemen and said, “Is there a local police officer you trust completely?”
“Yes, several,” replied the men.
“I want the driver of the van questioned. Find out what he knows.”
“I understood from Jack,” said the LO, “that the driver doesn’t really know anything. If Jack is wrong, then grabbing him would alert the bad guys. Jack and Laura could be killed.”
“Yeah, and maybe they’re already dead or dying,” said Sammy, turning to the Thai policemen. “Use a hit-and-run scenario.”
“Hit and run?” they asked in unison.
“Have the driver interrogated and tell him his licence plate was taken as the result of a hit-and-run accident. Find out everywhere he went today. Please hurry.”
It was six o’clock when the Thai police reported back. The driver had been interrogated.
“He swears he was not in any accident and the only trip he made was to pick up two men from the Pavilion and a man and woman from Bill Resort and drop them all off at the Cliff Bar and Grill a couple of kilometres north of Lamai. He thinks they were getting in another van when he left to return to the Pavilion, but cannot recall anything about it. The police officer who questioned him believes he is telling the truth.”
“Would you like us to have him question the people at the Cliff Bar and Grill?” suggested the other Thai policeman. “He could pretend to be checking the driver’s story that he was not in an accident.”
“Yeah, good idea,” said Sammy quietly. “Other than that, where would you go to dump some bodies?”
***
“Hey! What’s the fuss?” yelled Jack, still sitting in the chair.
“You lied!” shouted Lee. “You are working for the police!”
“I didn’t lie,” said Jack. “Sato! Do you think I lied?”
“No,” replied Sato, “I could tell that you weren’t lying,” he said, adamantly.
“What?” yelled Lee, grabbing Sato by his arm. “You told me Jack worked for the police?”
“That’s right,” said Jack. “I told him I did. I wasn’t lying.”
“You work for the police!” said Lee, astounded.
“Of course I work with them. You know that,” he chuckled. “So do you. How do you think I learned about Goldie becoming a rat if I didn’t have friends on the inside?”
“Oh, my friend,” replied Lee, shaking his head. “That is not what we were thinking.”
“Jesus! You mean you thought I was really working for them? Christ, what kind of guy do you take me for? Sure, sometimes we have to scratch each other’s back a little, but come on! If you’re trying to find out if I really work for the police, let me prepare a few questions of my own that you can have Sato ask me. They should alleviate any doubt.”
Jack was brought a pen and paper and quickly jotted down four questions:
Have you ever purposely lied to, or deceived the police?
Have you ever committed crimes that you could be jailed for?
Have you ever disposed of and hidden a body of a murdered man?
Have you ever orchestrated or committed murder?
Sato soon appeared in the bedroom doorway again and motioned for Lee to come over before whispering the results of his findings.
“You are certain?” asked Lee.
“He answered yes to all four questions. With some of the earlier questions, my findings were inconclusive, but with these questions I am positive he is telling the truth. I also asked him how many murders he had been responsible for. He told me he had lost count. I believe him.”
“Which questions were inconclusive?” asked Lee. “Anything significant?”
“His answer to transferring money. He believes it to be available, but has some hesitation about his colleagues delivering it. It could be a simple control issue. He likes to have absolute control and lacks faith in others.”
“That, or he doubts our ability to deliver,” replied Lee. “He did not climb to the top by completely relying on others. What else was inconclusive?”
“The first question when I asked him his name brought an inconclusive result. I asked him if he has used other names. He admitted he had, but refused to say what they were.”
Lee smiled and said, “In his business that is not unusual. The important thing is he sounds like he is suited to work with our organization. Come, it is time to leave.”
Moments later, Jack gave Laura a heartfelt hug and looked over her shoulder at Lee and said, “Satisfied? Can we meet the boss now?”
“Your suitcases are still in the van,” said Lee. “All we need is you.”
***
At seven-thirty that night, Jack and Laura looked out the passenger window of a Falcon 50EX private jet as it lifted off the runway, leaving the twinkling lights of Koh Samui far behind. They were not told their destination and were still not being allowed to use their cellphones.
Laura felt Jack’s reassuring squeeze on her hand. She looked across at Sato and Da Khlot who were both staring at them. Oh, man …
In a seat toward the front of the cabin, Lee relaxed while sipping on a Grand Marnier. Tomorrow Jack will complete his final test. That will not be a problem. He has obviously murdered many times before.
36
They were in the air seven hours, but with the time difference, it was actually five-thirty Saturday morning when the jet touched down on a foggy, wet runway.
Lee came to the back of the plane, grinning like a Shakespearian theatre mask. He bowed deeply before Jack and Laura and with a flourish of his arm he said, “Welcome to Osaka!”
“We’re in Japan?” asked Laura, giving Jack a look like she was accusing him.
“Kon-ni-chi-wa,” said Lee, carefully annunciating the word. “It means hello.”
“Really?” replied Laura. “How about sayonara instead?”
“Come on, sweetie,” said Jack. He looked up at Lee and said, “She’s tired.”
A van picked them up and took them to a private room where a customs official quickly stamped their passports. Moments later, they boarded a chauffeured stretch limousine. Once more, Jack and Laura found themselves sitting across from Da Khlot and Sato.
“How long before we’re there?” asked Jack.
“About three hours,” replied Lee, smiling understandingly at Laura’s tired groan.
Jack tried to pay attention to the roads and signs they passed, but had little success, due to his lack of familiarity with Japanese characters. The only two signs he recognized were NISSAN and TOYOTA. He felt uncomfortable under Sato’s constant gaze and decided to feign sleeping. But minutes later, he wasn’t feigning.
Jack and Laura each awoke about two hours later. The limo was driving through a mountainous area on switchback roads. Sato and Lee were asleep, but Da Khlot sat silently, staring blankly at them.
Eventually the limo arrived at a resort and slowed down, waking those who had been sleeping.
“It is an onsen,” explained Lee. “A resort that incorporates a mineral hot spring to soak in. Extremely popular in Japan. The food served is also exquisite. Multiple courses, including a wide variety of dishes. Later, you both must try it.”
The limo drove past a public parking area and took a small lane up a steep incline behind the resort. The area they drove through looked like an immaculately kept park, dotted with a selection of both bonsai and cherry trees.
“I’ve heard of onsens,” replied Jack. “You bath nude in public hot springs, correct?”
Lee pursed his lips in a grin and then said, “I understand that Westerners dislike bathing naked in public. I should tell you, that for the most part, men and women are separated, each with their own private facility to bathe in.”
“For the most part?” asked Laura.
Lee pointed to a small structure of wooden screens and clumps of bamboo strategically located halfway up the hill from the resort. A small stream that billowed steam bubbled out from the ground higher up the hill, flowed down through the structure, then disappeared into the ground again before reaching the resort below.
“There,” said Lee, “is a private location for a man and a woman. Popular with honeymooners, but perhaps we can reserve some time for the both of you.”
“I would really like that,” said Jack, ignoring Laura’s heel as she stepped on his toes.
At the top of the incline, the limo parked in front of a four-storey mansion built in traditional Japanese style with an intricate gabled roof and tiled ends.
“This is the home of Mister Fukushima,” said Lee. “He owns the onsen that you see down the hill. He is the man we refer to secretly as The Shaman.”
“And how should I address Mister Fukushima?” asked Jack.
“You should refer to him as Fukushima-san.
“I have heard of the title sensei following a name in regard to a teacher,” said Laura, “or someone teaching karate simply being referred to as sensei. I am not familiar with San.”
“San is used in Japan to show respect,” replied Lee. “Sort of like Mister or Missus, except with the Japanese it can also be used after either the first or last name. San is not gender specific. You are also right about sensei being used in regard to someone like a teacher or perhaps a lawyer. Actually Fukushima-san is a master of kenjutsu, a form of Japanese martial art involving sword fighting. He does not teach kenjutsu, so the use of sensei with his name would be inappropriate.”
“Handy guy to have in the kitchen,” suggested Jack.
“Be careful, Jack,” warned Lee. “He is familiar with Western culture, but he is old school when it comes to honour and respect. What may be humour in your culture, may be considered a slap in the face here. If you insult Fukushima-san it would be a … fatal mistake.”
They were ushered inside into an elevator and brought directly to a bedroom on the third floor. Here, two futons were laid out on bamboo mats, and there were two silk kimonos and slippers at the entranceway. An ensuite off the bedroom offered a bath and shower.
“When do we meet Fukushima-san?” asked Jack.
“At twelve-thirty for lunch, after you have bathed and had a chance to rest,” replied Lee. “Leave your clothes by the door and they will be taken and cleaned. It will be appropriate to wear the kimonos around the building. Laura, the pale green kimono is yours. Jack, the blue.”
“Our cellphones?” asked Laura.
“I am sorry. They will be provided to you later, after you meet with Fukushima-san. Should you need anything, there will be two attendants outside your door.”
Jack smiled and gave a short bow to the squat, burly-looking attendants wearing kimonos who stood in the hallway. They politely bowed back and Jack caught a partial glimpse of tattoos rising toward the backs of their necks as they bowed. He noticed one of the men was missing his little finger, as was their chauffeur earlier. A self-mutilation he knew, made by some of the Japanese mafia, or the yakuza as they are called in Japan, as a symbol of their loyalty. Tattoos are generally seen as anti-social in Japan and are also strongly associated with the yakuza. Attendants my ass. Thugs is what you mean.
As soon as they were alone, Laura sat on one of the futons and said, “Ouch, I think a bug bit me.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised,” said Jack, nodding in agreement. “You should get out of those clothes. Lots of bugs in Thailand. Hope you didn’t bring any hitchhikers.”
Laura then went to the washroom and closed the door.
“It will certainly be nice to meet Fukushima-san,” said Jack, loud enough, ostensibly for Laura to hear. “From what I have seen, I am suitably impressed with what he has accomplished. I am looking forward to doing business with him.”
“That’s nice, honey, but I’d respect him a lot more if we could use a phone. I promised my sister I would call her last night. She’ll be worried.”
“You’re right,” replied Jack. “Rose isn’t the type to sit back and wait. She’s liable to end up calling the authorities. Hopefully this afternoon we can rectify that.”
Jack walked to a window and looked out. Directly on the ground below, another “attendant” sat staring back at him on a small bench amongst a clump of cherry trees.
