said, ‘Yes I am.’
Aziz’s voice hardened. ‘Mac’s man, Kairul, has been attacked. He was stabbed after he gave me a bag which had some papers for Mac’s lawyers. They are in my safe now. Can you take your phone to Mac? I need to ask him about them. I must speak with him. It is urgent.’
‘I will call you back, sir,’ Yoshiro answered. He dressed quickly and five minutes later he was at Mac’s door. Ah Keat sat just inside it reading a newspaper. He looked up and said, ‘I think he is sleeping.’ He put down the newspaper and opened the door wider before he looked to see if the old man was asleep. He was. Shaking his head, Ah Keat went to the bed and gently touched Mac’s shoulder. His eyes opened immediately. Ah Keat helped him to sit up and offered him a drink which he took. After swallowing, he looked at Yoshiro’s face and asked, ‘Trouble?’
Yoshiro said, ‘Yes,’ and dialled the number. When Aziz answered, he passed the phone to Mac then walked to the French doors and looked at the huge bougainvillea that covered the low walls surrounding the patio. Three of the plants mingled their glory, deep crimson, yellow and orange. The colours clashed yet enhanced each other’s richness in a primal savagery that made his heart beat faster. The orchids sitting around the balcony nestled in their ornate pots bloomed in gay profusion adding to the almost riotous feeling of something not quite real. Yoshiro had been feeling this other worldliness in varying degrees since he’d arrived in Kuala Lipis. It was brought about by the decayed splendour of the old residency. A nearby hill called ‘Bius,’ meaning unconscious or anesthetized, the mishmash of house styles and the garments worn by the people with such panache. Then, there was Boise, with his ruined appearance, along with this splendid house in the middle of the jungle with its deceptive serenity and voluptuous garden! It made his senses do cartwheels. Mac’s voice recalled him to the room. He returned to the bedside and Mac held out the mobile phone. He took it, said ‘Hello,’ and heard Aziz’s voice again.
‘Mr Kawaguchi, I am coming to Kuala Lipis today. I will drive and should get there at about five or six this evening. I am afraid that the people your father was worried about are in Malaysia and may have already arrived in Kuala Lipis. Please, don’t leave Mac alone for even one minute. You, Boise, Kim Seng or Ah Keat must be with him in his room at all times. Oh, and close the french doors, put the air conditioner on in the room. I know Mac doesn’t like it. Do it anyway. Hang on, I think the whole house is air-conditioned with a great compressor somewhere close by. Ask Ah Keat to send two men to find it and then watch it. It would be easy to put something in the compressor to knock out all those in the house.’
‘Only Ah Mee, the cook, Kim Seng and Ah Keat must touch his food and medicine. Open a new bottle of morphine and keep all syringes in the room with him. If you think of anything I have missed, add it to the list. I will see you later today.’ He ended the call by saying, ‘Watch yourself, as well,’ and rang off.
Yoshiro froze. What on earth was going on? Who was this Aziz who had his mobile phone number? And how did he know Yoshiro was there in the first place? He had a sudden longing for his father’s calm voice, and whatever it was that Akiro should have told him, but either hadn’t wanted, or had not had the courage to. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. He did what he had been asked to do, then went to his room, lay down on the bed, and waited until Ah Keat came to say that Mac was awake again.
Mac, sitting up in bed looked like a very old fuzzy owl. His curling, grey, unbrushed hair stood on end and with his wire-rimmed spectacles perched upon his long straight nose he resembled a mad wizard from Yoshiro’s most beloved children’s book. Yoshiro had a sudden urge to hug him. The deep blue eyes peering at him were however keen and very much alive with intelligence and Yoshiro readjusted his feelings to say, ‘Are you feeling better, Mac sama?’
‘I am not in pain just now, Yoshiro, I thank ye. I want to wait for Raja Aziz to arrive before explaining anything, so I have asked Boise to force himself to be patient and good-mannered and to play cards with us while we wait. You do play cards, I hope? It’s the last thing I have left to enjoy, d’ye see?’
Raja Aziz arrived at five pm. His driver, Alex, carried his bag into the house and he was taken to a room upstairs next door to Yoshiro. After he settled, he went with Ah Keat directly to Mac’s room where Yoshiro was playing gin rummy with the old man and Boise who was obviously winning.
‘Cheating again, Boise?’ Aziz asked, and leaned over to take Mac’s hand, asking, ‘How is it?’
Mac smiled at him saying, ‘Bleedy, but better for seeing you. Kairul, is he alright?’ His face was bleak.
‘Yes, Mac, luckily, it was a slipshod attack. No way to tell who. I was not expecting it. Those papers. They were nothing to do with our business, were they?’
‘No. It was about something else. My will, in fact. You have it safe? I can’t understand why they would target Kairul. He always takes my papers and banking to KL. He’s a bright lad. He must have spotted them to make him call you in such a way. I didna tell him what the papers were, there wasna any need. But he knew we were expecting trouble of some sort. Poor wee laddie.’
‘I am so sorry, Mac. His family are devastated. I will see them later.’ He made a quick grab at Boise’s hand and two cards fell out. ‘Gotcha!’ he cried.
‘This man cheats at everything he does,’ Mac said. ‘Never ever play with him for money. He will take you for every penny you have.’
‘Gotta practise,’ Boise said grinning. ‘Do you really think I would skin you?’
‘No son. I know you wouldna, for real.’ Mac patted his hand, his face soft and, Aziz thought, melted with love. He shuddered thinking of his own two and what children did to those who loved them.
Boise looked at Mac with a soft light in his eyes, though he smiled. He stood up and said. ‘Right then. I will leave you to it. Call, if you need me.’ He closed the door as he left.
‘Tell me, how much do you know about this business?’ Raja Aziz asked Yoshiro when the door closed.
Yoshiro leaned back in his chair and looked at the man in front of him, He was surprisingly tall, a little over a hundred and eighty centimetres. Lean aquiline features, clean crisp eyebrows and a wide mobile mouth. His eyes were his best feature, being deep brown, large and, surprisingly beautiful. They missed nothing and as Yoshiro’s eyes met them, he was suddenly aware of a sharp intelligence.
Aziz waited, knowing the Japanese man was assessing him. He would have done the same had the positions been different. Finally, Yoshiro spoke. ‘Very little I’m afraid. You are also involved, it seems. I know that the Yamaguchi-gumi were strongly represented in the army before the second world war, and that some of the high command looted – and a blind eye was turned by everyone from the government to the senior members of the forces. There are wastrels in any group and they were no exception to this rule. Four men, my father tells me, acted for and by themselves secretly outside of the Yakuza. Two of them eventually became extremely powerful men in Japan. They are dead now, but their sons, are not.’
‘Was your father a member?’ Aziz asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Yoshiro answered. ‘Mac may know, if he will tell us.’ He looked across at the old Scot leaning heavily against his pillows. ‘Will you tell us?’ he asked. ‘From the beginning. From when you met my father? He said it was in 1941. He said you helped him.’ He felt his heart squeeze. He did not know what these men thought of his father.
Ah Keat adjusted the pillows. Mac moved his head and smiled up at him. ‘It’s almost done. I have waited a long time now. I’ve tried hard to put the past behind me.
