41. Kenzo
CHAPTER 41
KENZO
As soon as I’m done with Niko, I call Jay, telling him to meet me at John’s Town, the place where I killed Patrick. Inside, it’s smoky. Bulbed lights line each card table from above, and the carpet is covered in angular shapes, like a shit-brown kaleidoscope. I spot Jay at the bar.
“Son,” Jay says.
He hugs me, and I force a smile. Son. How irritating.
“Let me buy you a drink,” I say.
“Please.”
Once we get our drinks, me a whisky and Jay a long island, I click through my phone, activating the recording app. I turn off the screen so he doesn’t know it’s still in use, and I sit the device beside us. He’s going to say something I can use against him; all it takes is a little time. I’m not a patient man, but for Vi, I’m willing to try. With some truth in my arsenal, Vi won’t be able to deny it. And once I get the truth out of her, everything will become clear. It has to.
“So what do I owe the pleasure?” Jay asks.
“Vi mentioned you’ve been feeling nervous about our family. Yakuza and all.”
“But the yakuza is one of the least violent crime groups. That’s what they say, right?” He beams like a wolf baring his teeth, as if he’s mocking us. “I’ve been reading up on it. Apparently, the yakuza likes to brag about that. Lack of violence. Peaceful criminality.”
I grit my teeth. There may be groups like that in Japan, but out here, in the United States, it’s fight or die, and the Endo-kai will never die.
I ignore his comments and move on. “Your son worked for us for a while, but what about you? Are you looking for work with us too?”
A vicious excitement bubbles in his eyes, and he bobs his head. “I thought you’d never ask. I was thinking guns?—”
“Do you have any smuggling experience?”
He rubs his forehead, bashfulness reddening his cheeks as if he’s actually embarrassed. If I didn’t know better, I would have believed Jay right now. This fucker is good.
“Shit. I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I don’t have any. But I’m good at negotiations. Amazing, actually.” He gives a fake nervous laugh. My lips pull back into a smile; I can play the game and pretend to be friendly too. “But you transport firearms, right? I’ve got contacts all over the country, and?—”
I wave a hand to stop his rambling. “We’ve got that side of the business covered, but I’m looking to expand. What kind of business can you bring to the Endo-kai? Something we don’t already have?”
He scratches his chin. “My own business?”
“Think of this like an interview,” I say. I sip my whisky, then rest my elbow on the bar counter, right by my phone. “Why should we choose you?”
His nostrils flare. “You guys ever done insurance fraud?”
I wrinkle my nose. Some crime groups do that, especially in Japan, but we’ve always stayed away from it. Shabu-8 and gun smuggling are all we need. The casino cleans the money, and with a few protection rackets and corporate blackmail, we’re content and thriving.
But I indulge. If that’s what he wants to ramble about, then fine. He can talk himself into a corner, and I can use his own words against him.
“What’s that like?” I ask.
“Here’s your lesson in insurance fraud: You find some rich couple or a rich loner. I don’t know, but someone who’s got it all, right? But they’re lonely. Childless. Something like that. You become their long-lost relative and get them to take out a life insurance policy and put everything in your name. Sounds hard to believe, right?”
I angle my head to the side. I don’t care either way.
“But it works! ” he shouts, pleased with himself. “You gotta split the payout with a contract killer, but you guys have muscle, right?” He grins like an idiot as he grabs his long island, the brown liquid sloshing over the side. “Those fuckers die, and you move on with cash in hand. Let their ashes rot in the funeral parlor. No one gives a damn. Easy as apple pie.”
I lick my teeth. “Do you still do insurance fraud?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. Is that what this is? He can’t possibly think he can pull that off on me or any of the Endo-kai.
“No,” he says as he shakes his head solemnly. “One of those deals went poorly. I made a mistake and went with an actual family. Didn’t work out as planned.”
“How’d you handle it?” I ask.
He leans forward. “Man to man? None of this leaves us?”
I keep my eyes on him. Luckily, my phone is still recording.
“How’d you handle it?” I repeat.
“Life gives you lemons, you squeeze the shit out of them until they’re nothing but sour pulp, right?” He lifts his shoulders. “The kid was supposed to go with them, but she didn’t. So I ended up taking care of her.”
Taking care of her. Shit.
“Vivian,” I say.
“I thought I had it in the bag since her parents were so fucking loaded, but maybe it’s better this way. I don’t think I could have lived with a kid’s death hanging in my conscience. Plus, she was listed before me, which means if she was living, then I had to take care of her. I stopped working with that contract killer after that. The piece of shit. He was clumsy as fuck.”
He never confirms her name, but I know it’s her. Blood pounds in my ears.
“I don’t blame you,” I say coldly.
“But she’s like family now, you know? And it’s not like you can forge that paperwork. I had to go through all of that government bullshit,” Jay says. He finishes his drink, his eyes bloodshot. “The money dried up fast, but I don’t regret it. She’s a good girl, you know? Always does what I say.” He laughs. “Even if you have to get her drunk before you fuck her.”
Images flash before my mind: my fist crashing with Jay’s teeth; a cut on his neck oozing as he bleeds out on the floor; tying a cheese wire around his balls and pulling until they’re sliced from his body. I don’t know if he’s talking about Patrick fucking her, or if he’s talking about himself, but I want him dead.
This is why I don’t make promises. Jay is just as bad as Patrick, if not worse. Vi thinks he was there to save her from the back seat of the car, but he was there to make sure his contract killer finished the job and killed her too.
He’s let Vi believe these lies for most of her life.
But I made a promise not to kill him, and for some fucked-up reason, I still want to win Vi’s loyalty. To show her that her precious uncle isn’t who she thinks he is, but I can still be good to her. I can keep my word. I’ll be the home she’s always wanted.
And that means letting Jay live. For now. Only for now.
“What does she think?” I ask. I want to hear it from him and get it on this recording.
“Burglary gone wrong,” he says. “But I never let her focus on that. We’re family now, you know? Even if Patrick went on vacation.”
His eyes are bleary, but it’s not sadness. It’s the alcohol and his acting mixed together with a hint of anger leaking through his performance.
His fingers tap the bar, the kanji scar gleaming in the dim light. He’s still trying to play us, but it’s more personal now. It’s not just about the guns or his client. It’s about the scar. About Patrick. About what he knows I’m doing to Vi.
“Vi thinks he’s dead,” I say, as a warning, but Jay doesn’t take the bait.
“If I know my kid, he did what he thought was best.”
I force myself to pretend like none of this bothers me, but inside, I imagine shooting Jay in the head just like I did to his son. His brains would splatter on the casino’s ceiling, his body melting into the kaleidoscope carpet until the wakashu came to clean him up.
I’ll give him a few more days, enough time so I can talk to Vi and make her see the truth. After that, Jay will be gone.
“Patrick is one thing, but Vi? She’s a good girl,” Jay says absentmindedly. He hits the bar, and the bartender brings him a shot of vodka, like he’s been drinking here long before I showed up. “I knew it wasn’t a good idea to make a deal with the yakuza, but if anyone can survive, it’s her. She’s a fighter. She’s been through so much.”
Those words sink into me. Jay kept Vi alive to get the life insurance money, but now, she’s disposable, an offering he’s willing to sacrifice to the yakuza, a way to get closer to what he wants. He’s still using her. He probably used Patrick in the same exact way. If Vi died for this deal, it wouldn’t matter to Jay. And yet, Vi thinks he’s doing this for their family.
What fucking family?
“You raised a good one.” I smack his back, my jaw clenched tight. “I’m glad you found her.”
Because now, she’s mine.
“Does that mean I can get the job? Negotiate and everything?” he asks.
I nod, knowing this may be a mistake, but it is the only option I’ve got right now. I can’t kill him, which means I’ve got to find another way to get rid of him. I need to keep him close to me until I don’t need him anymore. Once I’ve convinced Vi that Jay doesn’t deserve her loyalty, he’ll be desert trash, roasting under the sun.
“I’ll meet you in Red Rock Canyon in a few days,” I say. An idea pops into my head; maybe I can get another enforcer to kill him instead, that way, Vi can’t hate me for it. “We’ve got a stash there. I’ll have you handle it, and when you’re done, we can discuss other options.”
“You keep your guns out in the desert?” he asks.
The desert is vast, so I don’t give him a direct answer. I tilt my head to the side.
“We’ll see if you’ve got what it takes,” I say.
He offers me his hand. “You’re a good man, Ken.”
I snicker, holding in a scoff. “Kenzo,” I correct.
I shake hands with the traitor, and then I leave.