Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers) (34 page)

JONNY YAMADA GRIPPED the steering wheel a little tighter. He had parked his car a block from his home, on the opposite side of the road. It offered him a clear view of his front yard. He couldn’t make out any unfamiliar vehicles in the vicinity. There was no movement inside the house that he could see. 

He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. It was risky heading back home, but unavoidable. His fake IDs and his cash were all stashed in his bedroom. No way he’d make it without either. It was also the first place Kanezaki and his thugs would think to look. Jonny only prayed he’d made it out of the hotel in time to beat them there. His life depended on it. 

The skies had darkened, a thick cover of gray clouds blocking out the sun. Evening was fast approaching, and the street lamps had started to come on, glowing dull orange. He stepped out of the car, taking care to shut the door as quietly as possible, and headed for his back door. He used the bushes and shrubs lining the street as cover, vaulting the knee-high fence that wrapped around his back yard before fumbling for his keys. 

Jonny held his breath as he approached the door, listening for any signs of movement. A slight rustling in the trees made him jump. He whirled around, eyes wide. A pair of birds flew out of the branches, disappearing into the sky. 

He calmed himself down.
No need to get paranoid. Keep it together.
 

The back door opened with a groan and Jonny stepped inside, stuffing the keys back into his pocket. Switched the lights on. He noticed Mariel’s coat hanging up in the hallway, the one she’d been wearing on a few days ago when it had been colder. He gritted his teeth. Wherever the bitch had gone, he’d track her down eventually. When all this had blown over he’d find her. Make her pay. 

But, for now, more pressings matters to attend to. 

He took the stairs quietly, heading for the bedroom. The floorboards creaked under his step, as they always did. He pushed open the door, headed for the dresser. 

The smell hit him first. 

A thick, musky odor, like meat left out in the sun. Rich, sickly, and metallic. Jonny knew the smell. He froze. 

“Welcome home,” a voice said.

Jonny spun around. Two men stood in the far corner of the room. He recognized them from the restaurant. Kanezaki’s men. His eyes flicked between them before settling onto the bed. 

His stomach wound itself into a knot. Splayed out on the bed, Mariel had been stripped naked, her clothes torn from her body. A thick, red gash ran the length of her stomach and chest. The sheets were stained dark, almost black, with blood. Mariel stared ahead, unblinking. Her once-brown skin a pale white, lips tinged blue.

“We’ve been here a little while,” one of the men said. “It was starting to stink. You took your time.”

Jonny backed up against the dresser. Opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

“You don’t need to say anything,” the man continued. “You knew what would happen if you didn’t come through for us.” The voice sounded jovial, almost mocking. “And, guess what? You fucked up big time.”

Jonny looked at Mariel. Couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“We’ve already lost one good man today,” the man said. “We gave him an honorable death. We won’t say the same for you.” He glanced at the mutilated body on the bed. “People gonna think you killed each other. We can make it look that way, no problem.” He smiled. “We know the bitch’s got an international warrant out in her name. Guessing the ID she’s here under isn’t a real one?”

Jonny shook his head.

“Didn’t think so.” He smiled. “Don’t think the police will waste too much time on her. You know, this is one stone-cold woman. Kills her own father in cold blood. Flees the country, comes to America. Shacks up with a
bakayaro
like you. You think she’d have hung around much longer? We did you a favor.” He laughed. “Well, maybe not such a big favor.” 

The two men advanced, grabbing hold of Jonny by the jacket. They flung him onto the bed, right on top of Mariel’s body. He almost slipped off, the slick blood coating his clothes and hands.

“That’s it, get it nice and soaked in,” one of the men said. “We’ll handle the rest. Just keep still and maybe we’ll make this quick.” 

Jonny’s eyes darted from left to right searching for a weapon, anything he could use against his attackers. Instead, his gaze fell upon Mariel, her eyes locked with his in a cold, lifeless stare. For one brief moment, Jonny felt as though maybe he was right where he was supposed to be. 

Then the pain came and nothing else mattered.

Chapter 63

THE SEA-TAC DEPARTURE lounge was crammed full of people, and Leopold was glad for the first-class lounge. A long window stretched the entire length of the far wall looking out over part of the runway. Clouds had gathered, a fine mist of rain drifting across the scene, and the light was fading. Warm and comfortable in a leather recliner, Leopold ignored the dreary view and took another sip of Scotch. 

“Worth the wait?” Jerome asked, sitting nearby. 

“I’d be glad not to go through another weekend like this one,” said Leopold. “Even with whisky involved.” He felt the liquor burn down the back of this throat. “Going through all that stone-cold sober is definitely not recommended.” He looked at Jerome. “You seen the photos Harper emailed through?” 

He nodded. “The atomizers look pretty high-tech. Compared to the detonators, anyway. They figure out what was inside?”

“They’re assuming sarin. But such small quantities, they figure it might have been concentrated somehow. They don’t know for sure yet. Need to run some tests.” He hesitated.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just…” Leopold trailed off. “The canisters looked familiar, somehow. Like I’d seen the design somewhere before.” 

“Don’t start down that road.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re thinking Chemworks, I can tell. You always expect the worst.”

“That’s why you’re in a job.”

Jerome smiled and changed the subject. “They get a statement from Johnson?” 

“I called in a favor,” said Leopold. “A lawyer from Perkins Rives met with her an hour ago. She’s agreed to cooperate in exchange for leniency.”

“You think it’ll work?” 

Leopold sighed. “She was protecting her family. That’s got to mean something.” 

“In a perfect world.” 

“In a perfect world, one wouldn’t need a five-hundred-dollar-an-hour law firm to prepare a defense.” He shook his head. “The Attorney General isn’t going to want to blame a US citizen for this. Opens up far too many questions. My guess, they’ll focus on the convenient story.”

“The North Koreans?”

Leopold shrugged. “Who knows. All I can tell you for sure, heads are gonna roll.”

“Harper?”

“She did her best. But she’s an obvious scapegoat. Thankfully, she’s smart enough. If the A.G. blames the North Koreans, all eyes will be on the CIA. If he goes after Johnson, the FBI are gonna hang for it. Federal employee, and all. Without any evidence pointing to a third party, the A.G. isn’t going to risk admitting they don’t know who’s behind it. Either way, Secret Service comes out of this looking like they saved the day. They got Melendez and the President out of harm’s way and apprehended those responsible. Can’t ask for much better than that.” 

Jerome smiled. “That’s politics for you. Always more complicated than justice.” 

“Getting justice is never simple. Nothing is.” He took another sip of Scotch. “
Engawa no shita no chikaramochi
.”

“What’s that mean?”

“The last thing our Yakuza friend said before he died. Literally, it means ‘A powerful person underneath the deck.’ Someone helping behind the scenes. I think he meant Johnson.”

Jerome chuckled. “And you thought she just wanted to have dinner? You really know women, Leopold.” 

“What’s to know?” 

“That nothing is ever as it seems.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“How’s Mary?” 

Leopold felt his stomach knot. He ignored it. “How should I know?”

“Admit it,” said Jerome. “You missed having her around.” 

“Ludicrous.” 

“You’ve been moping around ever since we got here. Why do you think you’re so desperate to get home?” 

Leopold drained the last of his drink, but didn’t reply. Admittedly, the weekend hadn’t gone as planned. Mary would have been a valuable asset. She had a knack for forcing him to think differently, act differently. When Mary was around, life just seemed a little…
easier
. Did that mean anything? Leopold shrugged the thought away. 

“I need another drink,” he said, eventually. 

Jerome leaned back in his chair. “What you need is a holiday.”

“We tried that already. Didn’t go well, as far as I remember.” 

“I meant a real vacation. With beaches.”

“You just want an excuse to lie around a pool.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad.” 

“I’d get bored.”

“You could do with a little boredom. We could take Mary.” Jerome grinned. 

“Drop it.” Leopold stood up and looked around. “I’m going to the bar.” 

The lounge was largely deserted. A few travelers huddled together at corner tables in small groups, a few lone businessmen hunched over their laptops. The bar was just across the hallway out of sight of the main lounge. A TV was playing highlights from a Seahawks game, the volume turned right down but still audible. The light cast bright green, blue, and silver through the gloom, reflecting off the brass taps where the barman waited. He looked up as Leopold approached. 

“Same again?” he said.

“I’ll try the Aberlour,” Leopold replied. “No ice.” 

“You got it.” 

Leopold took a seat on the stool, the scent of wood polish and beer drifting up into his nose. The barman returned with an empty glass, poured a measure of whisky and then handed it over. 

“Thanks.” 

“Heading home this evening, sir?”

Leopold sniffed his drink. Sweet and rich, hints of toffee. He took a sip, let the liquid slip down his throat. He looked up. “Back to New York. Not a moment too soon.”

“Not a fan of the Emerald City?”

Leopold paused. “It’s not that. It’s just…” His stomach knotted again. “It’s nothing. Seattle’s a wonderful city. Excuse me.” He got down off the stool, found a quiet corner. He watched the barman return to his spot near the television. Happy nobody could overhear, Leopold took out his phone. 

This doesn’t mean anything.

He dialed Mary’s number from memory. She answered on the sixth ring. 

“Blake?” Her voice was groggy.

“Guilty.”

“It’s past ten.” 

“Early night?”

“Early morning shifts. Where are you?”

“Sea-Tac. Waiting for a flight home.” 

A rustling noise. “I’m kinda trying to grab some shut-eye here. You okay?”

“Had an interesting weekend.”

“I saw the news. Figured you couldn’t be too far away.” She stifled a yawn. “Listen, I have a lead on someone who might be able to give us some dirt on the Chemworks sale. I was going to tell you about it when you got back, but seeing as you’re here…”

“I might have something too. But, let’s not talk about work. I’m not exactly in the mood.”

“One of
those
weekends, huh?”

“Putting it mildly.” 

“So, what’s up?” 

Leopold hesitated. Picked up his drink, studied it. Put it back down on the table. “A good friend of mine thinks I should relax more,” he said. 

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’d like to get some dinner.”

“It’s a little late.”

“I meant, when I get back.” He took a deep breath. “I meant, you and I should get some dinner.” He coughed. “Together. I mean, you and I…”

“Haven’t we already been through this?” said Mary. “You lost the bet.”

“No bets, no games. Just dinner. You eat, right?”

“Yeah…” 

“Me too. So, it kinda makes sense if we both eat. You know, at the same time.”

A pause on the line. “Like a date?” 

“Call it what you want. You can even wear a dress, if you own any.” 

“Whoa, are you asking me out, or trying to insult my wardrobe?”

“No reason I can’t do both.” 

Mary didn’t say anything. 

“Look, maybe this was a bad idea,” said Leopold. “We can always –”

“No, no. I could go for dinner,” Mary said. “But
just
dinner, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. I don’t want anyone shooting at us. I don’t want any dead bodies. At least, not until the third date.”

“No promises.” 

Mary laughed. “Just call me when you get back, okay. And try to stay out of trouble.”

“No promises.” 

Mary hung up. Leopold smiled, stood up to leave, phone still in his hand. Leaving his unfinished drink on the table, he headed back to Jerome in the main lounge, wishing his flight were leaving a little earlier. Suddenly, Seattle didn’t seem quite so bad. He slumped down in his chair and let out a deep, satisfied sigh. Jerome studied him, a quizzical expression on his face.  

“No drink?” he asked.