Chapter Eighteen #2
Jiro did as he was told. Both the armchair and the couch faced a large floor to ceiling picture window, through which they could view the Hollywood Hills and beyond.
As he sipped his own tea, he contemplated the amazing vista of the hills bathed in the soft orange light of a California sunset.
Kenichi’s LA house wasn’t exactly a mansion, but it was pretty damn nice.
Filled mainly with Japanese antiques—Kenichi wasn’t an antique dealer for nothing—it was the epitome of grace and luxury.
Jiro’s mother had been the one to decorate the house, but Kenichi had changed nothing since her death.
Jiro had grown up here, taking most of it for granted, until he’d become old enough to realize that most people didn’t live this way, and he was one of the lucky few.
That’s when he’d also begun to perceive how much his father coveted status, and from that power, and he’d rebelled against the whole idea of the importance of social standing, finally moving to San Diego when he was old enough to escape his father’s oppressive ideals.
He hadn’t visited his father in over two years, and he’d suffered some trepidation about coming back to this place.
But this time, things were different. Kenichi’s attitude towards his youngest son had softened considerably since they’d returned home.
He no longer criticized every little thing Jiro did; instead, he’d become almost excessive in his approval.
Although Kenichi never said the words out loud, it was becoming clear that he understood how much he owed his life to Jiro.
He’d also stopped comparing Jiro to his older brother.
Indeed, their roles now seemed to be reversed; Jiro was the golden child now that Taro had fallen from grace.
It’d been a week since Jiro and his father had returned to the US.
He was staying at Kenichi’s house in LA, caring for the old man as he recuperated.
The Swedish police had handed Jiro back his passport after five long, torturous days of endless rounds of questioning when they could find no reason to keep him in the country any longer.
By that time, Kenichi had been declared fit to travel, and so they’d left in a hurry before anyone could change their mind.
Christmas would be here in two days, but Jiro was barely aware of the upcoming holy day; he’d been so focused on getting his father repatriated home.
This would not be a Christmas they’d want to remember in a hurry, with the specter of serious jail time hanging over Taro’s head, and his brother’s family hidden away in witness protection.
He should do something about getting a tree and decorating it, he supposed, but there was also the shadow of his mother’s death looming in early January.
For the past eight years, Deborah’s passing had cast a pall over the Christmas season.
The year she’d died, he, Taro, and Kenichi had spent the holidays in hospital, watching her slowly slip away, so Christmas had been swept to one side and Jiro had never really had the heart to celebrate ever since.
But maybe this year, he should make the effort.
It might help to lift Kenichi’s spirits and help him recover more quickly.
Perhaps it was time to bring some light back into this family.
And Jiro could definitely do with something a bit fun to look forward to.
His mind drifted back to the beautifully decorated tree in Aurora’s house.
With everything else she’d had on her plate, she’d found the time to bring some festivity into her house, so why couldn’t he?
Yes, he would do it. He would go out and buy a tree today.
The thought lifted his mood, and he sat a little straighter in his chair.
The doctors back in Sweden had warned that Kenichi might suffer some aftereffects from the coma and hypothermia, and would need twenty-four-hour monitoring for a while at least. Mainly cognitive issues, such as memory loss, confusion, difficulty expressing thoughts and emotions, and disruption of sleep cycles.
But there were also physical things to look out for, such as fatigue, higher risk of infections, including pneumonia, and general weakness in the muscles, especially factoring in Kenichi’s age.
Kenichi seemed to be recovering just fine, however.
Stoicism in his generation of Japanese men was a cultural trait, and his father was one of the most unflappable people Jiro had ever met.
It was important to Kenichi that he not lose face, especially in front of his son.
Or that was the way it had been until recently.
In the past week, his papa had opened up more than Jiro had ever seen before; he’d even cried once, when Jiro confirmed Taro would be spending time in jail, possibly a long time—jail sentences for gun smuggling could be up to twenty years in a federal prison.
Even if Taro managed to cut a deal by giving the FBI all the information they needed to bring down the Yakuza gang, his children would still most likely be teenagers by the time he got out.
He and his father had talked a lot about the past and how this had all transpired; about Taro’s bad choices.
Kenichi had not gone so far as to accept blame for Taro’s ceaseless need to increase his social status or the way he coveted money, always needing more.
But he had admitted that he’d sometimes been worried about Taro’s business ethics, as well as the lack of consideration he gave to the products that he sold.
Kenichi might be a hard-nosed businessman, but he also respected the old furniture and held it in esteem, keeping back the most special items for the people who deserved them, and would care for them appropriately, rather than whoever could pay the most.
Soon, Jiro would take Kenichi into the city to visit his older son in jail.
He was being held at the Metropolitan Detention Center in the centre of town while he awaited his trial.
Kenichi had only seen his older son once since he’d woken from his coma.
Again, it’d been Inspector Viskten who had engineered the visit.
allowing Kenichi to be taken in a wheelchair to visit Taro in hospital before they deported him.
Jiro had accompanied him, and this time there’d been a police officer in the room with them.
Jiro’s only regret was that the officer hadn’t been Aurora.
She had returned to her duties and had been reassigned to a new case, Inspector Viskten had told him.
He hadn’t known it then, but he wasn’t to see Aurora again before he left Sweden.
If he had, he would’ve tried harder to get in touch with her. Much harder.
During the short meeting with his father, Taro had begged for forgiveness, would’ve even got down on his knees and prostrated himself on the floor if his handcuffs had allowed it.
Kenichi’s stony countenance had been shattered then, his face lined with grief when his son had broken down in front of him.
Even though he shed no tears and told Taro that he was the biggest disappointment of his life, eventually Kenichi had forgiven his oldest son.
Because what choice did he have? He either disowned him completely or accepted his failings and moved on.
The meeting had been emotionally charged, and his father had been clearly drained by the whole thing, his face pale and drawn as Jiro wheeled him back to his room.
Now they were back in the US, they talked about how best they could help to support Taro.
Kenichi desperately wanted to see Thalia and the two children, but they weren’t allowed to visit the small family, as they were being kept in witness protection, and they might not be able to see them for many, many months yet to come.
Kenichi raged at the injustice of it, but Jiro understood the reasons behind the embargo.
The FBI was working behind the scenes to quietly build a case against Hiroshi Kiyota, Taro’s conduit to the Yakuza gang.
Viskten had kept news of Taro’s arrest as quiet as possible, hoping to keep the Kyodo-kai gang in the dark until they came up with a scheme to bring them to justice.
Even though Jiro wasn’t privy to the FBI’s plan, he understood it must be a highly delicate undertaking as they attempted to collaborate together with Japanese authorities and keep the gang under surveillance without giving away their presence.
Taro’s trial date had not been set yet, but Agent Utsi had intimated these things often took many months, and it all hinged on how swiftly they could get the evidence they needed to bring down the gang.
Jiro wondered exactly what swiftly meant in FBI terms, but decided not to dwell on it as he had no authority in that capacity.
Kenichi would most likely be a key witness at the trial.
And his testimony regarding his kidnapping by Liam Kenzo would hopefully help to demonstrate the link back to Taro’s dealings with the Kyodo-kai.
In the days after his father had awakened from his coma, Jiro had helped him to piece his memories back together so they could trace the story of his abduction.