Shallow Graves - Jeremiah Healy (20 page)

"And she says, can I go out and get some wine
before Larry Shin comes by."

"Larry Shinkawa."

"Yeah. Larry Shin, he's supposed to be there
already, but he's late. Sinead, she says Mau Tim's in the shower, she
can hear the water coming down the pipes in the kitchen, 'Go on out
and get the wine, willya?' "

"So you do?"

"Right. Takes me a while, I don't know the
neighborhood, but I find a shitbox liquor store with something decent
in it, buy a couple bottles, come back."

"And?"

"And I go in and I'm in the kitchen working the
corkscrew when Larry comes in."

"He rings the doorbell?"

"Right, right. So Sinead, she goes over, buzzes
him in."

"Go on."

"Larry, he says, 'Mau Tim's not down yet?' And
Sinead, she says, 'No, but she's out of the shower! And then Larry,
he says, 'Well, why don't we go up to surprise her, the birthday girl
in her birthday suit! "

"And then what?"

"Then I say to Larry, 'You go ahead, you want
to. I'll open the wine.' "

"How come you didn't want to go up with him?"

"Aw, man. A dozen reasons. First thing, he's
hosing her now, not me. Second thing, I don't like her family knowing
I'm in the same building with her, let alone me seeing her buck naked
after a shower."

I said, "Why didn't Sinead go up with him?"

"She thought it was shitty, busting in on her
like that."

"Shinkawa had a key to get into Mau Tim's
apartment?"

"I don't know." Puriefoy thought for a
minute. "No, he didn't have a key, account of Larry, he come
down the stairs a couple minutes later, saying he can't get in and
can't get her to answer the door."

"You remember his exact words?"

"Larry Shin's?"

"Yes."

"Larry, he said something like, 'I knocked and
knocked and yelled to her, but she ain't answering.' "

"So he didn't say anything about a key."

"No, not like that. You just got me thinking
about keys, all the questions you're asking about them."

"Sorry. Go ahead."

"So then Sinead, she says, 'Christ, I hope
nothing's weird up there. I got a key.' "

"Sinead had a key to Mau Tim's apartment?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't know why. Water her plants, maybe."

"Couldn't the super do that?"

"Cousin Ooch? I'll tell you, I'm not sure Ooch
could go to the store for bread and come back with a whole loaf."

"Go ahead."

"Where was I now?"

"Sinead said, 'I have a key.' "

"Oh, right. Right, Sinead, she says, ‘I got a
key, let's check, see if Mau's okay.' So she gets it from her
pocketbook and we all go up there. Larry Shin hammers on the door
some more, and Sinead gets the key in and turns it and the door
opens, but not all the way account of the chain's on it from the
inside."

"Mau Tim usually use the chain?"

Puriefoy looked at me. "How would I know, man? I
stopped seeing her before she moved in there."

"Go on."

"So we can push the door open only so far, but
Larry Shin, he like wedges his head in and says, 'I can see her,
she's on the floor.' "

"Shinkawa did that, not Sinead."

"Right. Then he says, ‘She's not moving. We
got to break it down.' "

"Break the chain?"

"Right. So he tries twice and can't do it.
Thought all those guys knew karate, you know? But he's just not big
enough to bust through it, so I hit the door with a shoulder and the
chain goes and we're in there."

"And?"

Puriefoy's voice dropped. "And Mau's on the
floor, all right. Laid out, eyes half-open, face blue. She's dead,
and Sinead starts screaming."

"You remember anything else?"

"Larry Shin, he said he thought he heard
somebody on the fire escape — the window to it in the bedroom was
open, but I didn't hear nothing. Anyway, he ran over to it, but he
said he didn't see nobody."

"Did you look out the window, too?"

"Shit, no. Sinead, she's screaming at me to do
something, I tell her, 'Call an ambulance,' and she says, ‘How,'
and I say 'Fucking shit you ever learn about anything?' and tell her
911. And then 1 go to work on Mau, with Larry trying to help."

"Go to work on her?"

"CPR. Took a course on it once."

"What did you do?"

"Tried to breathe for her, work the chest, you
know."

"Anything?"

"No. I never done CPR outside that class, but
she was gone. They say, sometimes you can bring them back, but I'm
working on her, and I'm starting to see these bruises — more like
little cuts around her neck — " Puriefoy stopped and shook his
head. "Enough about that shit, okay?"

"Did you hear anything else?"

"No, man. Sinead was on the phone, screaming at
whoever she got. Larry and I were working on Mau."

I stopped and thought it through. Pretty consistent
with Fagan's version, as far as she went.

Puriefoy said, "Look, man, can I get back to
work now?"

"Yeah. Just one more question."

"What?"

"The guy who came to warn you off."

"The cheech?"

"He have a toothpick in his mouth?"

Puriefoy didn't answer right away. "The fuck did
you know that?"

"Ethnic stereotype."
 
 

-15-

THE BERRY/RYDER ADVERTISING AGENCY WAS LOCATED ON
LOWER Newbury Street. The bay window in the reception area provided a
panorama of the Ritz Carlton Hotel and a pie slice of Public Garden.
I was watching a giddy Hispanic couple walk hand-in-hand toward the
Swan Pond when the stunning receptionist told me that Larry Shinkawa
could see me now.

I was guided by her to an office that just missed a
view of the Garden. The furnishing was stark, a lot of chrome and
white interspersed with black surfaces in lacquer or leather. A
portable cassette player took up most of the windowsill. The desk
consisted of a thick Plexiglas sheet laid over double filing
cabinets, a snake lamp with a long neck clamped to one end of it.

Shinkawa introduced himself by coming around the
desk. He was about five seven in a tailored pin-striped shirt,
flowered tie, and the slacks to an Armani suit. The hair was longish
and combed sideways over the head, thick but graying in streaks. He
had laughing eyes behind red-rimmed aviators and a pug nose over a
yearbook smile. The smile was cranked up high, like he'd been eagerly
anticipating my visit all morning.

I said, "I appreciate your seeing me on such
short notice, Mr. Shinkawa."

"Call me Larry, please. Or Larry Shin, if you'll
be here long enough."

I must have looked at him oddly.

"
You see, Mr. Cuddy — "

"John, please."

"Thanks. You see, John, when I got here, there
was already a guy named Larry — Larry Ryder, one of the founders of
the agency. So people had to call me Larry Shinkawa, which got
shortened over time to just Larry Shin. Sit, please."

He returned to his desk. I took one of two chrome
chairs with black leather slings as seat and back.

Shinkawa said, "What's this about?"

"I'm investigating Mau Tim Dani's death for an
insurance company. Erica Lindqvist didn't tell you that?"

The smile distorted for just a second, then broke
into a wider grin. "Shouldn't try to fool you, huh? Sure, Erica
called, said a private eye might be by to see me."

In other words, trust me now because I'm finished
lying. Shinkawa toned back down to a smile. "I thought I'd just
play along."

"Sort of take things as they come?"

He acted like I found him engaging. "The only
way. You ever hear of karoshi, John?"

"No."

"It's Japanese for 'dying from overwork.' A real
problem in the old country. Guys in their forties, like me, dropping
like flies. The ones who get enough money or corporate bennies to
join a tennis club are in the worst shape. They got high blood
pressure, stress enough to make the tennis court a minefield for
their hearts. Me, I take things in stride, don't let life get me
down."

I cut in before hearing that he bent with the breeze.
"It would help if you could tell me about Mau Tim as you knew
her."

"Professionally or personally?"

"Start with professionally."

"George — George Yulin — introduced us, I
think. At one of their parties at the Cactus Club, a good way for a
modeling agency to get its new girls seen by ad people. Well, I had
this great concept for a furrier here. We're a small agency, John, so
we can put together some of the strongest print ads around for
clients that haven't got the bucks or the volume to benefit from
television product. I pitched the campaign to the furrier. Most
concepts get rejected by the client. This one said, 'Go for it.' "

"What was the campaign?"

"A series of young models, instead of the older,
'Martha, you've raised our children and you deserve a mink' types.
Only these were going to be exotic girls, not cheerleaders, follow?"

"And Mau Tim was exotic."

"Oh, John, you have no idea. Honestly. One of
the few girls who never took a bad photo. Every shot a piece of art.
Anyway, I met her as we were executing that campaign. She was just
breaking in, and I was able to give her career a boost."

"And you started seeing her personally?"

The smile wavered a little this time. "Yes."

"How long did you see her?"

"Six, eight months I guess. It wasn't the
usual."

"The usual?"

"Yeah. In this business, John, you get all sorts
of opportunities. You look like you're about my age?"

"Probably."

"Well, I'll tell you, the younger ones do keep
you younger. But you get tired of them after a while. They don't have
any depth."

"But Mau Tim did."

"Some." Shinkawa swayed back in his desk
chair. "She was interested in the sixties, for example. Made me
tell her all the expressions, like 'too much' and 'far out.'
Remember?"

"
Most of them."

"Well, she'd change them to suit herself. Like
in bed, she'd say things like ‘too, too much' or 'far, far out.'
Her way of showing that she understood me but could still personalize
things for herself."

"Adapting to a culture she never experienced."

Shinkawa stopped for a second. "You know, that's
a nice turn of phrase, John. Very nice. She was like that about my
being Japanese-American, too."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she was always asking me what it was like
to grow up Asian in America. Maybe because she had a Vietnamese
mother and I think an Italian — Italian-American, I mean —
father."

He thought. "You never met her family, then?"

"No. No, but she was always asking about mine.
Japanese customs and relationships. I wasn't born till forty-eight,
but before World War II my parents lived in California. They were
Nisei
. Know what that
means?"

"Born in this country of parents from Japan?"

Shinkawa gave me the "nice-turn-of-phrase"
look. "Basically. My mom and dad met when they were being
interned. You know about that, too?"

"Not much."

"Well, let me tell you a little then. Right
after Pearl Harbor, the authorities started rounding us up. By the
time they were finished, over a hundred thousand men, women, and
children of Japanese descent were herded into ‘relocation' camps,
John. Two thirds of us were American citizens, but that didn't
matter. No charges, no trials, no convictions. Everybody just lost
their jobs and property and got locked away in the desert. You
remember all the uproar over that Judge Bork being nominated for the
Supreme Court?"

"Sure."

"Well, they went after him because of his record
on civil liberties, right? Let me tell you, when I was in college, I
decided to do my senior thesis on the
Nisei
.
In early 1942, one of the strongest voices calling for the internment
testified before a Congressional committee that we Japanese
immigrants and citizens had settled intentionally in strategic areas
on the West Coast, that we were racially and psychologically tied to
the Emperor, and that we were just awaiting the order from Tokyo to
strike treacherously at the heart of the American defense industry.
You know who that voice belonged to?"

"No."

"The then attorney general of the state of
California. The honorable Earl Warren, future Chief Justice of the
United States Supreme Court"