Poitras steered the car out onto the lawn around Frank's body and stopped by the front door. The front door was open.
Poitras and Griggs went around the side past the garage, and Ito and I went in through the front. No one tried to shoot us. There wasn't anyone around to try.
Cabinets had been emptied and furniture upended and Asano's paintings torn from the walls in every room. Poitras and Griggs came in from the back and said they'd found a guy who was probably Bobby with two bullets in his chest out by the little fruit trees. They'd seen no sign of the girl or anyone else.
We found Asano in his office. He was lying on the floor in front of his desk, clutching the grip of a samurai sword. He had been shot once in the chest and once in the side of the neck. The sword was bloodied. There was a short, muscular man sitting on Asano's couch. The man and the couch were sprayed with blood, and the man's eyes were slightly crossed and sightless. There was a slash along the top of his left shoulder and two puncture marks in his abdomen and a black automatic pistol in his right hand as if Asano had attacked him with the sword and he had killed Asano and then staggered to the couch to finish dying. The little finger was missing from his left hand. Somebody said, "Sonofabitch." I think it was Griggs.
Ito looked at the left hand and then at me. "You say Asano had the book."
"Yeah."
Ito looked at the left hand again. "Yakuza."
We looked through the rest of the house. In an upstairs bedroom we found two girls holding each other under some rags in a closet. They screamed when we opened the door and begged us not to kill them and it was quite a while before they believed that we would not. One of them was Kerri.
We went through every room and every closet. There was no sign of either the Hagakure or Mimi Warren. When we had made the complete circuit and were back at the front of the house again, Ito shook his head. "So," he said. "You left her here because she was safe, huh?"
I didn't bother to look at him.
Chapter 31
We brought Kerri and the other girl down to the big open room with the French doors and put them on a couch beneath an enormous watercolor of an old woman sharpening a sword. The old woman was sitting in the snow, and was barefoot, but did not look cold.
The girls were scared and the smaller one had red puffy eyes from crying. We offered them blankets even though it was eighty degrees outside. Kerri kept sneaking glances at me, probably because she had seen me before. She said, "Are you a policeman?"
"Private eye," I said. I gave her a little eyebrow wiggle. Elvis Cole, Master of Instant Rapport.
"You're the guy who came here looking for Mimi."
"Yeah. You know where she is?"
"They took her."
Poitras said, "Who's they?"
The other girl pulled her knees up to her chin and locked her arms around her shins. She squeezed her eyes shut. Kerri said, "These four men came. They just came in and started yelling and shooting and tearing up the house. I saw them shoot Bobby, and then I ran."
Terry Ito said, "All Japanese men?"
Kerri nodded.
Poitras asked her when.
Kerri looked at the other girl but the other girl's chin was between her knees and her eyes were still clamped shut. Kerri said, "I dunno. Maybe seven. I had just got up. I dunno. I ran into the bedroom with Joan and we hid." Joan was the quiet one.
Poitras looked at me. "That was before she called Bradley?"
"Yeah." I said, "Kerri, was Eddie Tang one of the men?"
"Uh-uh." She shook her head.
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh."
Ito said, "You know what they were after?"
"They wanted this book."
Ito gave me a look, then he and Griggs went out to the car. Pretty soon the same uniforms who had been at Bradley's murder site came, along with a couple of dicks from Beverly Hills and three more guys from Asian Task Force. The uniforms got the girls' names and parents' phone numbers and made some calls to try to get them picked up. The ATF guys brought in big photo albums with known yakuza members and had each of the girls look through them. One of the uniforms and I made instant coffee in the kitchen. I put three cups of coffee on a plate and brought it out and sat by the girls while they turned the pages. I said, "Kerri, did Mimi say anything to you about leaving here?"
"No."
"I was supposed to come get her this morning. She and I had talked about it and she said okay."
Kerri turned each page slowly, lifting the next page and scanning the pictures at the same time. "I think she changed her mind."
"Why?"
"Eddie came over last night." Eddie. Great.
"What happened?"
"They had this big fight. She said he didn't really love her. She said all he wanted was the book and that he didn't care about her and that no one cared about her. Then he left." Joan finished one album and started another. She hadn't said a word in hours.
"But he didn't come back?"
"Uh-uh."
In a little bit a couple of the ATF cops came over and Kerri and Joan identified three of the four men who had raided the house. One of the three was the stiff in Asano's office.
A short ATF cop with a puckered scar running along his right jawline said, "You think this is connected with the torture-murder down in Little Tokyo?" He got a kick out of saying torture-murder.
Ito said, "Yeah. I think our boy Eddie was making a power grab. He figured Ishida had the book, so he did Ishida to get it. Only Ishida didn't have it. Asano did. So he went after the girl. When she wouldn't come across, he sent in some goons this morning." He looked at me. "Sound good to you?"
I gave it a shrug. "Some of it. Some of it has holes you could put a Cadillac through."
The short cop with the scar smirked.
Ito put his hands in his pockets. "I'm listening."
I said, "Eddie was working the girl a long time before Ishida was done. He'd know Asano had the book."
"Okay. What about this morning?"
"If the yakuza grabbed her, how'd she get away to kill her old man?"
Ito said, "I hear a lot of questions. You got the answers?"
"I don't know. I just know something isn't adding up."
Ito thought about that, and me, then finally shook his head and walked away. "Well, you had her for a little while."
Poitras and Griggs and I stood there and watched Ito and the guy with the scar walk away and nobody said anything. After a while, Poitras told me I looked like I'd been through a Cuisinart and asked me if I was okay. I said sure. He wondered if I needed to see a doctor. I said no. He put a hand the size of a manhole cover on my shoulder, gave me a squeeze, and said if I wanted to call him at home later that it would be fine. I said thanks. Charlie Griggs drove me back to my car. Bradley's body was gone. There were just a couple of newsmen poking around, along with a motorcycle cop who was making out like he'd just busted the Hillside Strangler. We sat there a while, in Griggs's car, and he asked if I wanted to have a couple of drinks. I told him maybe later. When I got home I went in through the garage and took off the bloodstained shirt and pants and washed my hands and face in the kitchen sink. I put the shirt and pants in the sink and rubbed the bloodstains with Clorox Pre-wash and let them sit while I went up and took a shower. I used a cloth and lots of soap and hot water and scrubbed myself pink. I used a small brush to get Bradley Warren's blood from around and beneath my fingernails. When I was finished I threw the brush away. Well, you had her for a little while.
I put on a loose pair of dojo pants, then went downstairs and put the clothes into the washer. Cold water. I opened a Falstaff, drank most of it, and called Jillian Becker at her office. Her secretary was subdued and distracted and told me Ms. Becker wasn't in. Probably with Sheila. I hung up and drank the rest of the Falstaff. It was so good I opened another. I stood with it in the center of my quiet house and thought about Mimi Warren out there wherever she was and whom she might be with and what she might be doing and I drank more beer. I opened the big glass doors to let in the air, then turned on my stereo and put on an old Rolling Stones album. Satisfaction. Great bass. I made a sandwich out of some sliced turkey breast and egg bread and tomato and had another beer. Got family problems? Hire Elvis Cole, The Family Detective. Guaranteed to make things worse or your money back!