Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers) (21 page)

IT WAS GOOD to hit the fresh air. Mid morning by then, the sun was warming up. June and Jack watched as a helicopter flew overhead. Looked like a local network news station. It was followed by another, then by the sound of sirens in the distance. June turned her head and saw Leopold and Jerome behind them. They were looking up into the sky. 

“Must be an accident somewhere,” June said. “Got to be first to get it on the news.” She took Jack’s hand.

“God, I hope they get it fixed, whatever it is. Traffic can be bad enough.” He looked at her. “I meant to ask; you said something this morning about, what was it called?
Goro
-something.” 

“
Goro-awase
,” June said. “Japanese puns and plays on words and numbers. What about it?”

“Just want to hear more about it,” he said. 

They headed straight downhill and walked quickly. The Washington State Convention Center was next to downtown, and for some reason had been built directly over the major freeway through the city. The first thing that greeted them while walking was the echoing noise of heavy traffic.

“So, what’s the deal here?” June asked. “You’ve got that soccer shirt on. Are we supposed to speak Spanish to each other? Or am I supposed to fake a Japanese accent?”

“Either one, I guess. Whatever is easier. Can you speak English with a Japanese accent?”

She grimaced. “Spanish then.” 

“Might be best when we’re around other people. But maybe try not saying too much. Your Spanish could use a little work.” 

She looked at him as they walked briskly down the hill, wondering if he was joking. She had first started speaking Spanish as a little girl, and continued to use it in her office with patients. In the end, she decided it was best to smile and hold his hand.

“What about those puns?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. Well, there are several ways of using numbers, with different sounds. Often, advertisers will come up with gimmicks for prospective customers to remember using the sounds of a company’s phone number. Maybe by arranging the sounds of a phone number, they can come up with a related word to help the customer remember better, then put it to a jingle. It’s really quite effective. The Japanese have really mastered it.” June listed off several of the jingles she remembered from living in Japan briefly several years before. “They really stick with you.”

Jack laughed. “I bet. What about numbers?” 

“Okay. One example: the eighth day of the eight month, August Eighth, is known as Laughter Day in Japan. The date number for eight is ‘ha,’ so August Eighth is pronounced as
Ha-Ha no Hi
, or
Laughter Day
. And even better than that is the day before, known as Banana Day.”

“Banana Day?”

“The sound
ha
for eight can be changed into
ba
by adding a tiny mark, which is the way the Chinese pronounce the number eight. And the number seven is pronounced
na-na
. Plus, the word for banana in Japanese is actually
banana
. So,
Ba-nana no Hi
, or Banana Day!”

“I guess you learn something new every day.” He grinned and squeezed her hand a little tighter. They reached another busy intersection and waited for the signal to change.

“Yeah, whether you want to or not.” June looked up at him. “Why all the curiosity over numbers?”

“I hate to bring it up…”

“What?”

“That yakuza gang you got tangled up with. What was their name?”

“Oguchi. Why?”

“What’s that mean? Does it have a catchy little number rhyme to go with it?”

“The organization’s name was Oguchi, which generally means ‘big mouth.’ But the boss’s family name was Sandoh.” June’s skin crawled just saying the name out loud. She thought about the numbers, trying to force her brain into working like a computer, sifting through dozens of combinations of sounds and the numbers that might go with them. There wasn’t much that she could think of. She looked at him as they walked. 

“Why?” she asked. 

“Never mind. Just curious.”

They were getting closer to Seattle Center. The Space Needle loomed overhead, crowds of people swarming toward the park’s many entrances. It was still a little noisy, but less vehicle traffic than before, making it easier to talk. June had things she wanted to discuss. She started out easy with him.

“How long has it been since you’ve just gone for a walk like this?” she asked.

Jack thought for a moment. “Unescorted? Years. I don’t drive much anywhere, I don’t play sports, and you’ve seen the kind of dates I’m allowed to have lately.”

“That was kinda weird last night.”

He nodded. “Even though I’m only a candidate right now, I still have little time for myself. And forget about freedom to come and go. Every little detail of my day is planned out by a campaign manager and assistants, from meals to meetings to when and where I can take a crap. This whole weekend is like a vacation for me.”

“Ha!”

“And talking to people is a pain. Everybody is suspected of being a part of the media, or worse. Everything I say has to be carefully measured so I don’t hurt someone’s feelings. It’s impossible to be in favor of anything, because as soon as I am, it means to someone somewhere I’m against them.”

June thought about it for a moment. Speeches were carefully worded. Since he had returned to media attention in the last few months, June had become a bit of a Jack Melendez junkie. She had caught all his speeches on television. Seen the image he wanted to project. There was an entirely different side to Jack that the public would never get to see. 

“Will it always be like that? So much chaperoning of your life?” she asked.

“For the next few years at least,” he said. “Especially if I stay in the public life. If I get elected, I can kiss private life goodbye.”

As quickly as that, she had got to where she wanted in the conversation. The next part would be tricky. “You were a state senator for a while,” June said. “Then ambassador, and now presidential candidate. It must be difficult to stay out of the spotlight once you’ve discovered it.”

“I could get used to it again,” he said. He let go of her hand and put his arm around her back. She did the same, which slowed their pace into a window-shopping stroll. “But there are still a lot of things I can do, things I can help make better. And there will always be the expectation that I never really fall off the map entirely.”

“Like Jimmy Carter.”

“Exactly like him. He’s still expected to make public appearances.”

“And builds houses in his spare time,” June said. This conversation had given her something to think about. “Do you think you’d run again if this campaign doesn’t work out?”

“One day at a time.” Jack looked directly at her. “One speech at a time, one primary at a time, one election at a time. I can only view it that way, whatever it might turn out to be.”

June regretted starting the conversation down this road. Amy was right when she said Jack Melendez was riding a cushion of support in the country. His focus had to be on the campaign. But right now, this was a path she had little interest in following. She needed to turn the conversation somewhere else before it got away from her.

“Do I smell something?” she asked, sniffing the air. She caught the scents of meat cooking. Maybe there was a vegetarian option nearby. “I haven’t eaten much yet today.”

His hand went up to her shoulder and caressed her neck. “You’re appetite was certainly healthy this morning.” He nudged her toward an open plaza area filled with people, just a few blocks from Seattle Center park. “Come on. If I remember correctly, that’s a mall of some sort.”

The sound of car horns and the traffic parted. Through the gap, three police cars raced down the road in the direction of the park. From another direction came the wail of fire engines, one right after the other, followed by paramedics. They were all heading for the same place. 

“What the hell?” Jack said. 

Two more police cars joined the rush. June glanced around. She spotted Jerome running toward them. Leopold nowhere to be seen. 

“Do you suppose it has something to do with the helicopters we saw?” she said, turning to Jack. 

“They’re going in that general direction.”

June took him by the hand and tried to lead him away. She was hungry and still wanted lunch. Jack stalled. 

“You know what?” he said, pulling back. “Maybe we should head back to the hotel now.”

Chapter 36

JONNY YAMADA SAT in the hotel bar nursing a whiskey. Some eight-year-old label, he couldn’t remember the brand. It hadn’t seemed important. Beer gave him a light head, but whiskey helped him relax. His jaw still ached, a dark bruise spreading across the skin. He took another drink, hands shaking slightly. The ice clinked against the side of the glass. He set the drink down, looked around. 

Glancing past the restaurant floor, he saw the hotel lobby packed with people, even busier than the day before. Some of them spilled out into the street trying to push their way inside. Travelers, journalists, speakers, academics. Most dressed in casual clothes, a few in suits. No police that he could see. He figured Mariel should have no problems moving through the building unnoticed, swapping out the pillows, and getting the hell out. Kanezaki, the asshole, couldn’t fault the plan. By the end of the day, Kato would be dead and Jonny would start a new life. Maybe even spend one last night with Mariel, for old times’ sake. 

He shook the thought off. Took another drink. Considered his options. After the detcord went off, Jonny would slip out during the ensuing panic. Get lost in the crowds. Go straight home, grab his things, get to the airport. He had the tickets already, a nonstop flight to Narita International, Tokyo. Then a few hours on the train. His uncle had arranged everything. 

The only potential barrier was Kanezaki. There was clearly something he was keeping quiet, something Jonny wasn’t supposed to know. That could cause problems, especially if Kanezaki decided to stick his nose in. Still, no matter. In a few days’ time, Jonny would be a recognized member of the Oguchi family, and nobody would be able to push him around.

Across the bar, a television set bolted to the wall. The sound was muted, running the news. A man with slick hair was talking about local events. A live feed jumped onto the screen and one of the patrons shouted for the barman to turn the volume up. 

Jonny looked up. Stared at the television.
Holy
shit. 

The camera panned left and right, carnage unfolding all around. The screen showed an expanse of park, some trees and grass off in the distance. Long stretches of asphalt, crammed with panicked-looking pedestrians, some holding placards. Jonny couldn’t make out what they said. To the center of the frame, three police cruisers were parked up with lights flashing. Fire trucks just behind, an ambulance holding the perimeter. The camera zoomed, focusing on a man dressed in padded body armor, stomping somewhere off to the side. Jonny spotted the Space Needle in the background and realized what he was looking at.

He checked his watch. Got up fast, almost knocking the remnants of his drink onto the floor. The other patrons glanced over at him before turning their attention back to the television. One of them muttered something. Jonny clenched his fists and looked toward the lobby. There was some kind of commotion going on as one of the crowd held up a cell phone.   

Jonny took a moment, weighing up his options. The newscaster was talking about a bomb scare. Said police were searching the area near the park. 

Shit, shit, shit.
Even if they didn’t search the hotel, this definitely threw a giant wrench in the works. Melendez was Kato’s only reason for being here, and bomb threats don’t tend to go down well with Presidential candidates. No way he’d spend another night. They’d both be on the first flight out of Seattle, no doubt with an armed escort. 

Jonny swore again, out loud this time. A few people looked over at him. His cell phone vibrated. Blocked number. He answered it. 

“
Moshi moshi
.” 

“I’m here.” Kanezaki’s voice, speaking Japanese. 

“Yeah, yeah. Cool. I’m just in the bar.” 

“You seen the news.” It wasn’t a question. 

“What’s going on?” 

Kanezaki ignored him. “Melendez will be confined to his suite. If he’s out of the hotel, he’ll be heading back now. Where he goes, Kato goes. Your timetable just got moved up.”

Jonny felt his stomach clench. “I can’t do anything unless they’re on the beds. It’s all been planned for when they’re asleep.” 

“I don’t care. You had time to plan this. Find another way.” 

“Like how?” 

“Like I don’t give a shit, that’s how,” Kanezaki said. “You had one simple job. You don’t pull this off, you know what my simple job is. Text me when you’ve confirmed Kato is in the building.” He hung up. 

Jonny felt his knees give way. Lightheaded, he leaned against a nearby table for support. He fumbled with his phone, called Mariel. No answer. Swore again. With a final glance around the room, Jonny strode off toward the elevators, key card clutched in his hand.