Snakeskin Shamisen Read Online Free Page B

paid off, but at least it’d gone down a couple of notches.
    Mas took the Pasadena Freeway until it ended and merged into Arroyo Parkway. Within fifteen minutes, he was pulling the Ford into his cracked driveway. He retrieved his mail—all bills and slick advertisements—from his battered, graffiti-tagged mailbox and went inside. He was too full to eat a real meal, so instead he sucked on a Tootsie Roll while opening envelopes and writing checks. By the time he was on his fifth Tootsie Roll, he had finished his bills and returned to his easy chair. Sleep soon followed until he was awakened by the ringing of the phone.
    “Hallo?”
    “Is this Mr. Arai?”
    Mas’s ears perked up. A young woman calling him “Mr. Arai” meant only two things—a telephone solicitor or bad news. He sensed it was the latter when the caller identified herself. “It’s Juanita. Juanita Gushiken, G. I.’s girlfriend. The police want you back here at the restaurant. Something’s happened.”

chapter two
    Juanita had specifically asked Mas to bring over his screwdriver. Mas couldn’t imagine why anyone, much less the police, would know or care about the screwdriver he used to lock the door of his Ford pickup. Juanita wouldn’t explain what was going on over the phone. “I can’t talk anymore,” she said. “Just get over here, please.”
    Mas called Haruo but just got his answering machine. Next he tried Tug and Lil Yamada’s house.
    “Hello.” A male voice, low and distinguished.
    “Tug. Itsu Mas.”
    “Mas, we missed you today. It was quite a spread. Haruo mentioned that you’d be coming, so we were expecting to see you.”
    “Yah, yah.” Mas could only take so much Japanese guilt right now. “Went ova late. Did you hear about some kind of trouble ova there?”
    “Trouble? No. After we left? What happened?”
    Tug wasn’t accepting the boredom of retirement well, and Mas quickly realized that his phone call was throwing more fuel onto Tug’s simmering fire.
    “Itsu
orai
, Tug. I take care. I see youzu later.”
    “Monday night, right? Dinner at our house. Give us a full report.”
    Mas grunted. He hoped the news was the type that could be shared at the Yamada dinner table.
    As he drove back to Torrance, Mas’s head began to pound. He didn’t know if those three Sapporo beers were finally kicking in. More likely, it was
shinpai
, worry that something had gone terribly wrong at G. I.’s party.
    Once he arrived at the intersection half a block away from the restaurant, Mas saw that it was much worse than he expected. Parked police cars lined the boulevard, their red lights blinking like bloodshot demon eyes. He passed the restaurant and contemplated driving back home.
    But he remembered the urgency of Juanita’s voice. He had to follow through, whatever the situation was. He parked in a deserted bank lot three doors down. He cradled his screwdriver in his windbreaker pocket and didn’t bother to lock the door. A
dorobo
would be crazy to steal something with the blinking police cars a few feet away. Before Mas reached the Mahalo’s door, he noticed a CLOSED sign in the front window.
    A young Asian man with a shaven head was walking from the restaurant toward his friends standing on the sidewalk.
    “What’s happening?” they asked.
    “Somebody got killed in there.”
    “For reals?” “Dang.” “What else is open?” They hopped into a car stopped at the curb and took off.
    Mas wished his reaction could be so carefree. Who had been killed at Mahalo? Surely not G. I.? Was that why Juanita had called, instead of G. I.? Mas fingered the screwdriver in his pocket and wished this whole business were over. It was one thing for old men to die, but someone in their fifties? G. I. was still in his prime. He could still become a father, albeit an old one. He could still make a bundle of money and maybe help a few more people in the meantime.
    Mas tried the front door, and it opened in spite of the CLOSED sign. But instead