My Yakuza by A.J. Llewellyn (books for 6 year olds to read themselves TXT) 📕

dust settles down, we’ll transfer Shiro out to Long Island again, only this time I go with him and stay there. That way I can protect him and myself at the same time.”

“What about the funeral? You know there’s always a big funeral when a cop gets it in this city. What about that?”

“We can say that my wishes previously expressed were for no hoopla and that my body was to be cremated. You all can make a big deal about putting my ashes on my desk or someplace like that. I have no family here so that’s not an issue.”

“Don’t you have someone that’ll need to know the truth? I’m not talking about people like the D.A., but personal friends or family.”

“Not at the moment, no,” Kono replied with a slight catch in his voice. He couldn’t even tell Gen.

“Okay, where?”

Kono had to think for a moment on that. It had to be some place public but somewhere that a panic wouldn’t ensue during or after the shooting. The perfect place came to Kono’s mind and he smiled.

“Well genius, where’d you come up with?” Jerrell asked.

“There’s a picnic table in one of those little parks that separate two directions of traffic about nine blocks from here. We put one of the police women dressed in civvies with a camera who can just happen to be videoing the architecture in the area when the shooting goes down. Shiro will shoot me and then drop the gun and run like hell, just as a squad car comes around the corner. The beat guys nail Shiro, make the arrest, all on camera of course, and haul his ass away as the ambulance pulls up to tend to me. When they put me on the stretcher, they need to pull the sheet over my face to indicate that I’m dead. How’s all that sound?”

“Good. But we need to clear the park on some pretext beforehand so that no one thinks it’s real and drops from a heart attack or some hero pulls out a gun he isn’t suppose to have and shoots your guy. You know how trigger-happy all the local clowns are.” He paused. “We’ll get it cleared before lunchtime tomorrow, since Shiro has a deadline.”

“He does.”

“I want him to take a lie detector test.”

“Okay.” Kono didn’t care. He just wanted this thing over with. “I just thought of a way to clear out the park.”

“Hit me.”

“I’m the jumper guy, right? We get a jumper on one of the apartment buildings and—”

“That’s great! We clear the surrounding area.” Jerrell looked impressed. He checked his watch. “I gotta go. I have a lady waiting for me and it’s rude to make a lady wait.”

Chapter Six

Great. Jerrell had a hot date and Kono had to track down some blank ammo for the nine.

“Lock-up should have something. I’ll get Stevens out of there long enough for you to rummage. We don’t want anyone suspicious about you getting bullets for a non-issue weapon. You know what, I’m gonna miss you when you’re dead, Kono.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, Loo.”

After finding what he needed in the precinct armory, Kono went to his office and called Shiro. When he answered the phone, Shiro sounded excited that it was Kono.

“You okay?” Kono asked.

“Yeah, thanks to you.”

“Well, I’m calling to tell you we think we’ve got this thing figured out, and it looks like you’re going to kill me tomorrow.”

Shiro inhaled sharply on the other end of the phone.

Kono explained the entire plan to Shiro who couldn’t find any holes in it. He explained they needed to be able to clear the park. He was concerned that a bystander would shoot him thinking that he’d just shot someone.

“My Lieutenant is working on a plan to take care of that. Now, get some rest.”

“Alone?” Shiro asked, his voice a whisper.

For now, Kono almost said. “Yes, but I’m just a phone call away.”

“Did you call my grandma?”

“I’m gonna do that now. Get some sleep because somebody is picking you up at nine o’clock in the morning.”

“Okay,” Shiro said.

Kono looked up to see Jerrell walking past him with his tie neatly tied. Lucky son of a gun, having a hot date in the middle of the night.

* * * *

Honolulu, Oahu.

Alia Kennon shuffled down the east side of Puakalani Street in her plastic slippahs bought on sale in Chinatown, struggling with her heavy shopping bags. She wasn’t as old as she looked, or so she liked to think. Weighed down by many worries, and her shopping bags, she felt older than her sixty years as she crossed Prince Kuhio Avenue, just making the lights. She’d scored some good deals at Love’s Bakery. She’d snapped up a ton of two-for-one specials and she was anxious to get home before it got dark. She was afraid of being on the streets when it was dark. She couldn’t run so fast anymore. She could sure beat up somebody with her sack of potatoes, but she was a little tired.

“Hey, grandma,” a man said, falling in step beside her. “Let me help you with those.”

“Okay, thanks.” She glanced at him. He was a handsome young Japanese man. He wasn’t local, judging by his business suit. If he was a tourist, he was in the less showy part of Waikiki. She let him carry the heaviest bags.

“What do you have in here?” he griped. “Potatoes?”

“Yes,” she said.

He seemed sullen. Why did he offer to help her if it was such a big deal? She moved a bit faster, only half a block from her little house. Something about the guy made her want to get away from him.

“What’s the hurry, grandma?”

He kept pace with her, switching the bags from one hand to the other.

“Potty time,” she said. “I’m an old lady. When I gotta go, I gotta go.”

Her heart sank when they reached the old iron gate of her small cottage. Another man in a suit was waiting for them. He was also Japanese. She