Atonement for Iwo Page 12

  At ten the following morning, Hiroko was waiting in front of the hotel. Masters eyed her sternly. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he stated brusquely. “No screwing around.”

  “All right, Keith. I think I know what you’re after, so I declare a real truce for the time being.”

  “Another thing,” he continued. “You may know what’s going on, but I don’t want you involved. Get that clear in your mind or you can go back to work and tell them to cancel your leave.”

  She didn’t scare easily. “No dice. It concerns Ichiro. I’ll take my chances the same as you.”

  “Then beat it.”

  “Stop it, Keith. You need me and I can handle my own end. But I’ll do whatever you say. I want to help.”

  His face creased into a smile and he tapped her beautiful jaw lightly with a fist. “Okay, so long as you do exactly what you’re told, no more and no less.” He stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. “Listen, Hiroko, I don’t quite know what we’re going to do, but whatever happens, you’ve got to understand one point - and remember it every second; once a plan is made, you’ve got to follow it to the letter - or it falls apart. Looking around the doorway when you’re told to stand stiff and quiet can be the little thing that ruins everything. Do you get that?”

  “Keith,” she answered steadily. “If you tell me to sit in front of a train, I’ll stay there until you say move or it runs over me.”

  He pressed her arm. “Good. Now let’s go in and get a room. I bet the clerk is getting dizzy with all you women coming up and waiting in the lobby and cars and stuff. I bet he’ll figure your mother has already thrown me out.”

  “I’ll tell him that mother sent us back here for me to teach you the facts of life.”

  “Christ, can’t you ever get your mind off that?”

  “You started it, not me.”

  The clerk thought exactly what Masters said he would. He eyed Hiroko wistfully, leaning over the counter to watch her walk up the steps with Masters. Masters was given a different room from the one he had had before, and it was just as small. Hiroko immediately kicked off her shoes, sat cross-legged on the bed, and drew out the maps. He caught on, took off his shoes, and joined her.

  They were good maps. Masters suddenly snapped his fingers. “Hiroko, go to Mr. Takahashi’s office and find out which countries do not have extradition treaties with Japan. Phrase it coyly. But if you can think of any other way of finding out, do so. Don’t mention your name, though. Your brother may still be remembered.”

  She was off the bed, shoes on her feet, and out of the room in a flash. When the door closed behind her, Masters admitted to himself that he was glad to have her helping him - she would be a valuable accomplice.

  By noon she was back. “The public library has a legal section,” she explained, “and a list of countries with treaties, effective nineteen fifty-four. I charmed the fellow at the counter. He’s a law student and says there have been no changes.” She looked squarely at Masters “He also tried to date me, but I told him I was meeting my lover.”

  “Did you tell him your lover was not in a screwing mood?”

  “He wouldn’t have believed it. He looked down the front of my dress when I leaned over. You should look too, then you’d understand.”

  Masters shook his head and chuckled. They studied the list of countries together. “There’s none with North Korea,” she pointed out. “They don’t like us Japanese, but they know we’re the smartest in Asia. Also they don’t like the U.S., and they know we’re friends.”

  He had already decided on North Korea while she was away, if it did not have an extradition treaty with Japan. He had felt that the odds were against them having one. It was hard to make the next decision, but it had to be made. “Okay, Hiroko, you’ve hit the spot. Now look over the west coastline.” He pointed out a town. “Go there, visit the neighboring villages and find a boat to hire which can travel...” he studied the map more closely, “at least five hundred miles. It must not carry a crew of more than two or three men. Say that you want to rent the boat for a fishing trip for your father and brother.” He suddenly stopped. “Shit,” he said. “You can’t go. They’ll identify you afterwards.”

  Her head rose. “I don’t care.”

  “What did I tell you about obeying orders?” he snapped. “Do as you’re told and shut up. We’re not planning a tea party. Somebody could get killed.”

  Her face paled. “All right, Keith.”

  He thought quietly for a few minutes. “Do you know where the American Army Post Exchange is?”

  “No, but I’ll find out.”

  “Check it over, see who goes in and out, whether they’re in uniform, who inspects identification, everything.”

  “Okay.”

  “Then visit the jail where Ichiro is kept. Make a drawing of everything you can find out, where he is kept, where the guards are stationed, when they change, how he eats, all the details you can think of. But above all, keep as low a profile as possible.” He eyed her beautiful face. “Can’t you make yourself less noticeable? Mess yourself up, flatten those tits you’re throwing around, wear cheap clothing.”

  “All right, Keith, I’ll be careful.”

  “Just a little over three weeks. Christ, there isn’t much time. Let’s go.”

  He left her at the front of the hotel and took a taxi to Kimiko’s building. She brightened when he entered the office, but sobered immediately at the serious expression on his face. Inside, he wasted no time. “Kimiko, I need your help.”

  She felt alarmed but quickly regained control. “In what way, Keith?”

  “I need two things. First, that you trust me implicitly and don’t ask questions. They will all be answered in time.”

  She nodded. “I will trust you.”

  “Second, I need money.”

  “How much?”

  “The equivalent of ten thousand dollars. Do you have it, or even a part of it?”

  She didn’t bat an eye. “Do you want cash?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have time to eat first? It’s after noon.”

  “No, I don’t have time. Another thing. I will be leaving for a few days.”

  She could not prevent shock and uncertainty from showing in her face. She tightened her lips. “All right, Keith, we’ll go to the bank now. It’s just around the corner.”

  He could not remember a time when he wanted to take her in his arms more than he did at that instant. He stood quietly while she took a bankbook out of a locked drawer of her desk and slipped on her jacket. Without speaking, they left the store, walked down a block and around the corner to a large, modern bank. An official immediately came over and greeted her with a politeness denoting deep respect. Within minutes, she placed a thick bundle of notes in her handbag and they walked out into the street. In silence, she handed the money to him.

  She was a proud person, but transcending the pride was her womanliness. “Do you want me to pack for you?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss her, ignoring the fact that it was not the custom to kiss on the street in Japan. She raised her lips to meet his. Then she turned and walked stiff]y back towards her office.

  He caught the first taxi he could find, returned to the house, ordered the driver to wait, then hurriedly packed his bag, slipped a small Japanese-English dictionary into his pocket, and rushed back out. “The railroad station,” he said.

  At the station, he learned that all his rushing was for nothing: the train to the west coast did not leave for another two hours.

  Friday evening was another lonely night for Kimiko. She sat with Hiroko, watching television, but the programs could not hold her interest. She rose frequently to walk in the garden, then to her room to look again at the few articles Masters had left behind. She went into the kitchen and ran a cloth over the spotless sink and stove and refrigerator that the old servant had cleaned thoroughly just an hour before. She decided to polish her nails, went in
to the bedroom, sat in front of her vanity, and arranged the bottles. Then she placed them back into the drawer and returned to the garden, sitting on a stool near the chaise lounge,

  She was sitting there when she heard a car drive up and stop. Her heart began to pound and she gripped the seat of the stool, waiting with bated breath, imagining the opening of the car door, the paying of the taxi driver, the unlocking of the gate into the front yard, the short walk to the door, the searching for the key, the placing of the key in the lock.

  Then she heard his voice and was able to breathe again. She hesitated no longer but rushed into the living room and into his arms, leaning her head against his chest, hoping he could not hear the terrible hammering inside her.

  “I’m hungry,” he said and it was the most beautiful command she had ever heard.

  Later in the night, she took the tired man in her arms, rocking him as he had once rocked her, and when he turned on his side to sleep, she took off her night dress and snuggled up to his back, molding her body so that she could get as close to him as possible. In his sleep, he reached out for her arm and drew it around him, holding it tightly. Then she went to sleep.”

  Masters met Hiroko in the hotel at ten the following morning. “How did you get these?” he asked wonderingly, when he saw the detailed drawings of the prison and the list of interior information.

  She was very proud of herself. “I went to the city architect’s office and told them I was writing a thesis for my economics work and wanted to check on housing. It took me a day to work my way to the plans of the prison, and I could make only brief sketches. Then yesterday I went to the prison itself and asked to see Ichiro. They refused, as it wasn’t visiting day, so I got lost a few times and wandered around. The police were very polite and helpful - they didn’t want me to go.” She was tempted to explain why they wanted her to stay around, but decided not to harass Masters at that time. He should be able to see why.

  He studied the drawings. “My God, it’s like a fortress.”

  Hiroko’s slim finger pointed to one side. “If you could get over this part of the wall and out through the bars of this window, you would be inside Ichiro’s cellblock.”

  “What are the cells like?”

  “A guard said that each cell holds from four to ten prisoners. There are fifteen to twenty cells in a cellblock, then a steel door and a passage, then another steel door and the next cellblock.” She opened her purse and took out a pencil and pad to make a swift sketch.

  “Where do the passageways go?” asked Masters

  “I don’t know. I imagine they lead to the offices.”

  He shook his head. “It would take a commando raid to break it open.” He looked again at her neat drawing. “How do you know that getting through this window will put you in Ichiro’s cellblock?”

  “One of the guards insisted on showing me the way out, then tried to date me when we got outside. He pointed to the right-hand side of the prison and said that Ichiro’s cell was there - on the second floor.”

  “It would never work,” he said. “First, the outer wall must be scaled, then I’d have to cross twenty feet to the prison and up to the wall.” He took out the package of cigarettes, lit one, and felt his head swimming as he inhaled the raw smoke.

  “You shouldn’t smoke,” said Hiroko.

  “All right.” He put out the cigarette. “What about the Post Exchange?”

  “There’s a woman at the doorway who looks at cards the people have to show her.”

  “ID cards,” explained Masters.

  “What are they?”

  “Identification cards, containing the person’s picture and fingerprints. Were the men in uniform?”

  “Some of them were. But most of them were in civilian clothes.”

  “Are there any military police at the door?”

  “Now and then one would come up and stand around a while, then he’d go away. There are none posted at the entrance.”

  He patted her shoulder. “Well done, Hiroko, you did a good job.”

  She straightened on the bed as if he had given her a present. “How did you make out?”

  He hesitated, then took out his wallet and handed her a folded sheet of paper. “Copy this,” he said. “It’s the name of a boat owner, the location of his boat, and all the details for the escape. If anything happens to me, use it as you see fit.” He glanced at her, self-consciously. “I’m going to spend a great deal of money for expenses. Your mother gave me ten thousand dollars which should see it through. I hope it works - that’s a lot of money to take chances with.”

  She chuckled. “I can see you’re not a gigolo. Mother is pretty wealthy, she won’t miss the money.” Hiroko eyed him with a sparkle in her eyes. “Don’t ever underestimate mother. She’s a sharp businesswoman and a lot more intelligent than she seems. Besides the stores, she has property and companies all over town.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Not in the least. She gave me fifty thousand dollars in stock when I became twenty one.”

  Masters laughed wryly. “What’s that for?” asked Hiroko.

  “I was going to insist that she take a hundred and fifty dollars per month from me for expenses. I can’t live off anyone, least of all a woman.”

  “She would like you for it.” She paused a moment. “Just how are you financial]y?”

  “You’ve got exactly fifty thousand dollars more than me. I get three hundred dollars a month disability pension.”

  She placed her hand on his. “I didn’t know things were that close for you, Keith. Can I help?”

  He patted her hand. “You’re not such a bad kid when you stop fooling around. No, I’ve got all I need. But I didn’t expect to start playing house with a wealthy woman. I figured that she was comfortably off, and that we’d both pitch in to make ends meet. I’m not the kind of person who can tell whether a sofa costs twenty bucks or two hundred dollars.”

  A frown creased her brow. “Is it going to make any difference? About the money?”

  “Hell no. Your mother doesn’t put on a big front, and as long as it stays like that, I don’t mind. But now it will make me a little uncomfortable to have her tear all over the house to serve me a cup of tea when I know she can buy and sell me all day long.”

  “Maybe that makes her happier than buying big houses and cars,” said Hiroko, softly.

  “You’re getting out of character, acting like a true daughter.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll remind you again, I’d do anything if I knew it would help her. I still just don’t think you’re the right one for her.”

  He rose and stretched. “Christ, talking to you is like riding on a merry-go-round.” He thought of something. “Get me the names and addresses of a few car rental agencies in town, and all the newspaper articles about the killing of that union man and subsequent trials.”

  She was out of the room in a second. He stood looking at the closed door, a smile on his face. Then the smile faded, and he took a deep breath. For a moment it reminded him of the deep breath he used to take before charging into the face of the enemy.

  CHAPTER 10

  The officers’ housing area was dimly lit. Masters sat in his rented Toyo Crown sedan and glanced at his watch; it was almost 10 p.m. Across the way from him was an apartment house containing six apartments, two on each floor, and bolted to the front of the building was a row of mail boxes with the names and ranks of the occupants. Most of the tenants were Lieutenant Colonels.

  He sat quietly until he saw the headlights of a car approach the parking area. At once, he slid out of his car, entered the main door of the apartment house, and went up one flight of stairs. He stood there listening. When he heard the vehicle pass the parking area and continue on, he slowly walked down the staircase and back to his car.

  A second car drove towards the area half an hour later, and he got out and repeated his movements. Soon he heard the sounds of several people entering the building. Immediately he started do
wn the staircase. It was a family of five. “Good evening,” he greeted them, then continued on his way back to the car.

  His next alert was also a family, and again he repeated his greeting and resumed his post.

  At midnight, he gave up and drove back to Kimiko’s house.

  The following night he selected a second apartment complex that also housed Lieutenant Colonels, and again it was fruitless.

  He chose still another for the next night, and took up his vigil at 10 p.m. A few minutes after arriving, he saw headlights approaching, and walked to his position on the first floor. The lower door opened and the sound of a man mounting the staircase came to his ears. At once, Masters started down the steps, coming upon a man about his own age. “Good evening,” he said.

  As the man replied and passed him, Masters whipped out a stubby piece of lead pipe and struck!

  The man let out a low moan and sagged to the steps. Masters grabbed the body to break its fall, then ran trembling hands through the pockets. There was a wallet, some coins, car and house keys, personal papers. He pocketed them, then felt the man’s pulse - it was beating steadily. He hesitated a moment, then reached down and took off the wristwatch.

  Quickly descending to the doorway, Masters stepped into his car, started it, and drove out of the parking area. At the main street, he switched on the headlights and raced out of the housing section, then slowed down and drove steadily to Kimiko’s. He parked the car around the corner to conceal it from her.

  Inside the house, he went directly to the bathroom, locked the door, and took out the wallet. He had struck well - in it was the identification card of Lieutenant Colonel Charles Durkin. He sighed as he replaced the wallet in a pocket, then went to the dining room to have a cup of tea.