Date: Fri, 22 Feb 2002 20:32:07 -0000
From: Ben Erikson <benerikson17@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Bergman Files No 2 Episode 4

The Bergman Files: No 2: The Japanese Garden

A story by Ben Erikson

Episode 4

Back at the house in Venice. We all three felt whacked out after the trip
to Beverly, the strain of the trip back. When I'd caught up with James
outside the Tedai mansion, he was sitting in the front of the BMW, fretting
about me, what I was up to. Toru was fast asleep on the back seat. I'd told
James briefly what I'd seen in the Japanese garden and instructed him to
follow in the Ford back to his house.

So here we were.

I'd carried Toru straight up to his room and left him sleeping
fully-clothed. It was nearly midnight. Now James lay next to me, leaning
into me, concerned and tender, stroking my face, my hair as if I were a
child. He talked in a low voice, not sex talk this time, not like last
night although it was already beginning to feel like a replay - deja-vu all
over again.

This time when Toru appeared he was still fully clothed, as I had left
him. His eyes were all puffy, his sweet face streaked with tears, his whole
manner subdued. He surprised me by coming directly to my side of the bed, a
little unsteadily.  He tried to look brave and collected but his lower lip
was already beginning to give him away. He took a big breath.

"Grandfathers dead, isn't he?"

It wasn't really a question, didn't really need an answer. Except my
eyes. Toru stood there rooted to the spot, it seemed, not making any noise
but starting to shake, his arms and shoulders first and then all
over. Suddenly, all at once, the tears came.

I swung myself out of bed and reached out to the boy. He let himself be
pulled towards me and wrapped himself as best he could around my naked
form. He was openly sobbing now and I knew enough to let him get on with
it, get it over with, this first stage of grief and fright and shock and
wonder at the world, its strangeness, its sudden shifts. I held him tight
and rubbed the top of his head with my chin. James seemed pretty shocked
himself. He reached over and rubbed my back in support. Like I said, he was
a good kid.

Gradually the crying subsided and was replaced by a kind of snorting
sigh. I lifted Toru upright and began to undress him.

"Come on" I said. "Help me out here."

Numbly, he obeyed and helped me shrug off his coat, left it where it
fell. I turned him round and sat him on my knee, reached down, got his
shoes off, undid the clasp of his trousers and standing him up, slid them
to his ankles. He was entirely passive now; wanting, needing to feel for
one last time perhaps the controlling hands of adult care, attention and
security in his new world of strangness, sudden shifts. He visibly
regressed, even to the point of sucking his thumb in a vacant, automatic
way while I lifted his feet one at a time out of his trousers. His other
hand reached down and clasped his tiny cock through the fabric of his
underwear, comforting himself as best he could.

When he was naked, I sat him on my knee and cuddled him, rubbed his thighs,
ran the end of my fingertips over the tear tracks on his cheeks, kissed him
lightly on the head, brought him half to sleep. With one last effort of
will he roused himself and pulled away slightly.

"I want my Dad."

"I know, love." I said. "I know."

Tedai had explained to me on the Sunday how Toru's mother had been killed
in a car accident when the boy was barely two years old; explained just how
close he was to the father, to the old man himself.

"I want my Dad. Where is he?"

It was my turn to sigh now, sigh deeply.

"I won't lie to you Toru." I said. "I don't know where your Dad is. Right
now, I just don't know. But I know someone who does and tomorrow I'm going
to go see him and he'll tell me. Believe me, kid, one way or another, he'll
tell me and then I'll take you home. Take you to your Dad. OK?"

"Promise."

This wasn't a question; was a command. Definitely.

My turn now to take a deep breath.

"I promise, Toru. I promise."

Now he let me lay him down, more or less on top of me at first. I held the
orbs of his backside in my hands and kneaded them gently, stroked them,
then just held them there. James had listened carefully and now leaned
over, stroked Toru's head and whispered to him:

"Go to sleep now. Try to go to sleep."

Toru shifted round to look boldly at James.

"I'm still not talking to you." he said and turned his face back into me,
my chest. He was almost instantly asleep but mumbled something as he
drifted off, already in dream. It was hard to tell but I thought I heard
the single word "hippopotamus".

**********************************************

I woke at 7.20, late for me and lay back listening to James and Toru
breathing almost in synch, then out of synch, in synch again. I felt very
warm towards them both.  Somewhere in the night the duvet had been kicked
away, was keeping us decent, not much more. Toru was turned into James'
back, had an arm splayed out across his shoulder. I thought about the day
ahead.  I didn't anticipate any problems. After the messiness and blood of
yesterday, the nerves and shock, a kind of clear-eyed calm had re-imposed
itself overnight. Today would be the day. I'd hand Toru back, wash my hands
of him and his family and walk away, $200,000 to the good. OK, so maybe I
wouldn't find the man I needed to talk to, maybe he wouldn't know, wouldn't
tell me; maybe Toru's dad was dead, was one of the twelve, maybe...

"Mike. You OK?"

James in a low voice.

"Hi. Yeah, I'm good. I think so anyway. Sleep OK?"

I nodded towards Toru, a silent comment on how he clung again to James. He
bagan to stir himself now, sat up a bit. His expression was all sweetness
and innocence though God knows what that hid, what strange ideas and
fantasies were playing out in his little mind. I'd tried to shield him
these past two days from what was going on but he always seemed to know
somehow, how much down to intuition, how much from pre-knowledge I never
did find out. Maybe I'm just a lousy liar. James stroked the hair out of
his eyes for him and brushed his forehead tenderly.

"I'll get us some breakfast, get you in the shower, yeah?"

Toru reached over, cupping his hands to James' ear and whispered
theatrically then giggled when James gave him that smile of his.

"OK, you little tiger." he said. "Let's go!"

What was that all about? I never did find out. Before they left to freshen
up or whatever it was they left to do, Toru wriggled round on the bed and
straddled me, actually pinned me down. His face became all serious as he
gazed into mine.

"Remember what you promised!"

He waited, unwilling to let me go until the contract was complete.

"I remember, Toru. I won't forget, OK?"

The magic words said, the ceremony over, he bent his face towards mine and
kissed me hard and passionately on the lips and went off with James with a
big smile on his face. The pressure of his little body on top of mine had
left my cock sticking straight up in the air just covered by the duvet. I
don't think he'd noticed but by the sly grin on his face, I rather think
that James had.

******************************************************

I'd planned to go it alone; this last stage it made sense. Why drag the two
of them with me all this way, especially if I struck out. Alone, I could
track down Toru's Dad, arrange a meet and get the business side of things
sorted and not have to worry about them, leave them safely stashed away in
the house. On the other hand, Toru was my responsibility, not James' and
anyway I'd asked enough of him already. In the end I had no choice; they
both kicked up such as stink about my plan that it soon became simpler to
bring them along. One car though, this time. James didn't complain, he'd
been fixing to get behind the wheel of the BMW since he'd first set eyes on
it.

I got him to park on 7th street near Macy's Plaza and now we were standing
outside the entrance to the Home Savings Tower on 7th & Figueroa, above the
Metro Center. It was a short walk from here and I was determined to do this
bit alone. I figured James could entertain Toru for half an hour, maybe
show him the Schoonhoven ceiling mural just the other side of the Home
Savings door. A bit of culture might do them both some good. I'd left them
with strict instructions, told James I'd call his mobile in 20 minutes and
headed off to the discreet offices occupied by the late Mr Tedai's
lawyers. Whether or not they'd witnessed what went down in Beverly Hills
last night they ought to be expecting me; if they were thinking straight,
doing their job, they would be expecting me, expecting someone at least.

I was thinking hard how to play it, what I might have to say. I didn't
expect James and Toru to follow me so I didn't check. OK, so I should have
checked anyway. Maybe I'm getting too old for this shit after all. Old
man. Motherfucker.

And now I was being careful, on red alert since getting no response to the
buzzer, having to bullshit my way past Heidi, the receptionist to the
shipping insurance firm downstairs, (James, as it turned out, had to do
exactly the same, God-bless-him) and finding the door to Mr Mitusake's 4th
floor offices busted open. I'd pocketed my Smith & Wesson before leaving
the house and got it out now, checked it briefly.

I only had to follow my nose; the stink of sweat and fear and vomit. He was
trussed to a chair in a corner, half-hidden; they'd used up about three
rolls of packing tape, his eyes and mouth secured as well. He'd been given
quite a seeing-to, both eyes blackened, his whole face split open; blood
congealed, all that. His hair was matted with sweat and he'd shit his pants
somewhere along the line, between beatings, between 1.00am and 2.00 or 4.00
and 5.00. what did it matter, what time? He'd been alone, all alone in a
deep, black hole maybe all night. Maybe longer. He made a strange animal
noise on sensing my approach.

I pocketed my gun again and found a pair of office scissors in a drawer and
started working on the tape. Part of his face around an eye began to peel
away as I pulled it free so I gently replaced it, left it for the
paramedics; might be something there that they could sew back on. His
breathing was very shallow. He was in deep shock and I had to repeat myself
to make him understand. But this was crucial.

"Mr Mitusake, I'm getting you help, OK. It's all over now. You'll be OK
now. My name's Bergman. You know that name, yes? From Mr Tedai? I work for
him, you understand?"

He gave a little moan, could have been yes, could have been
yankee-doodle-fucking-dandy.

"You have to tell me. It's very important you tell me where I can find Mr
Tedai's son. You understand? I very much need to talk to him."

"Ber...man..." he mumbled this spitting teeth and blood but he seemed to
know the name.

"Tell me..."

I had to gamble here, gamble on going too hard on the poor fucker, gamble
on going too soft.  He moaned again and I bent my ears to his battered lips
and held my breath. Then I asked him one more thing - just as crucial, more
so even.

"Did you tell them? Tell me the truth. It's important. Did you give them
that address."

There was no reply. The effort of speaking, of remembering, the shock of
finding himself at least half-alive was too much, it seemed. Then slowly,
but definitely he shook his head three times and let his chin drop.

I caught the movement behind me and swivelled, moving automatically into a
fighting stance. The one on the right, the one with the mean-looking scar
on his chin had more or less levelled his gun, the one on the left, in the
stained red undershirt, who was closer anyway, was only now raising
his. They'd both come way too close for gunplay, should have kept their
distance. My firearms instructor at police school would have had a fit, had
us back for extra training after work. I moved into the one with the
blood-stained shirt - Mitusake's blood, I guessed and used a bong sao
movement to deflect his gun hand downwards and away, keeping hold of his
wrist as I pulled his body between me and Scarface. I drew his arm out and
smashed his elbow with my own, let him fall to his knees. Scarface had move
a step towards us which was, frankly, stupid. He held the gun correctly,
I'll give him that; good stance, both hands in position. Looked like he was
ready to shout "Stop or I shoot" or some such nonsense. My kick caught his
upper jaw and sent him flying into a hatstand before he could pull a face
let alone a trigger.

"Wow!" Toru.

"Jesus!" James.

"Shit!" Me.

We looked at each other a second, maybe more than a second.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?"

I was collecting the guns off the floor where they'd landed, emptying them,
giving the guys a quick once over for any hidden weapons. Neither were out
cold but they weren't exactly looking forward to Round 2 either.

"Call 911"

"For them?"

"No, though they'll both need hospital treatment. For him." I jerked my
head towards Mitusake.

"And you" I said to Toru "go sit over there and stay there. I'll join you
in a minute. And don't look."

"Look at what?"

"Just don't look, OK?" I didn't want him to see the guy in the chair; the
blood, all that.

Scarface and Undershirt were stirring now, doing some moaning of their
own. Suddenly I couldn't be doing with it; I figured it would be easier
having them out of the way in any case. I dragged one then the other to the
office door and unceremoniously booted them down the stairs, half-way
down. One already had a broken arm, the other, a broken jaw; I didn't think
they'd be back in a hurry and they could both walk, could find their own
way to a nurse. I went over to Toru, sat down and fished out my own
mobile. James was giving the address on his; seemed to have things nicely
under control. I dialled in a number and asked for Detective Nat Davis,
talked to him a while, filled him in on some things, stalled on others and
promised to wait here for his arrival.

"Time to go" I said when we were through. I gave Mitusake a final check,
made him as comfortable as possible which wasn't very and dumped the two
guns in the wastepaper basket, found a space in the filing cabinet for the
ammo.

We got a dirty look from Heidi who scuttled halfway out from her little
cubicle.

"I'm calling the police you know" she said.

"That's alright ma'am, I'm a police officer myself." It sounded plausible
enough to give me time - like maybe 20 seconds. She hesitated, clearly not
convinced.

"I'm calling them anyway" she shouted to our retreating backs.

*****************************************************

I walked slowly through the lobby of the New Otani Hotel, working hard to
get my breathing right. I stopped a minute to admire the waterfall
sculpture, check the surroundings as discreetly as I could. Nothing there,
nothing out of place. I'd pondered for some time before deciding to leave
the gun in the car, the glove compartment. I'd pocketed the ammo
though. The address I'd been given by Tedai's beat-up lawyer was right here
in Little Tokyo, not 500 yards from Sunday's bloodbath.  The New Otani
Hotel, 23rd floor; Tedai Jr had a suite of rooms, the entire floor as it
turned out.

Now I was stepping out of the lift at Level 22, an elementary
precaution. What did you expect? The excitement to go to my head? I headed
for the stairs. Got my breathing right.

They were not hotel-trained but whoever trained them, trained them very
well.

"I'm sorry, sir. That floor is restricted to private use, a private party."

He'd got his body between me and the staircase up to 23 and blocked out
even the light from the decorative chandelier. I'd seen sumo wrestlers wear
smaller size jackets although never with smaller size automatic pistols
stuffed down them.

"I think you'll find I'm expected. My name's Bergman and Mr Tedai is
expecting me."

A shadow, a very big shadow appeared from halfway up the stairs and
listened in, the way shadows sometimes do.

"Mr Who? I'm sorry sir. I don't know any...what was the name again?"

Like I said, well-trained. I hope his parents were proud of him. Their
pride and joy.

"It's about Toru. Tell Mr Tedai that it concerns the welfare of his son
Toru. You might just save your balls from being sliced off if you get onto
your walkie-talkie like right now and not in five minutes time."

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know any Mr Tedai. Maybe you're mistaken. Maybe
you got the wrong floor, the wrong ho..."

"OK."  Shadow. "I'll handle this."

They did a little dance on the stairs, swapping position; quite graceful
under the circumstances.

"Mr Bergman"

"Yes"

"You fuck with me you're dead man, you understand?"

"Yes"

"You better not be carrying, you dead man."

With a nod from Shadow, Pride and Joy squeezed past again, pushed me up
against the wall and frisked me none too gently. He pulled out a handfull
of S&W bullets from my inside coat pocket, turned to Shadow with a puzzled
expression, shook his head.

"Search him again!"

I could have taken him out, both of them. That's what I'd spent almost 30
years learning how to do, just in case I ever found myself wanting to join
a private party on the 23rd floor. But I knew I had to play this cool, get
them to accept me. I wanted an invitation. I wanted to be on the A-list.

P&J shrugged his massive shoulders at the Shadow, put the ball right back
in his court.  There was half a minute almost could have gone either
way. Eventually Shadow merged again into the background, the sound of his
walkie-talkie drifting down.

"You probably got the wrong floor." said P&J unnecesarily. Still in
role. There was a crackle of interference from above and Shadow's voice,
taking instructions. I really didn't want to do this the hard
way. Honest. Honest to God. I wanted soft, as soft as I could get. I'd had
enough of hard these past two days. Who needs hard? You need hard?
No. Exactly. Point made. QED, whatever. Me neither.

"Come."

I had to edge past Pride and Joy who didn't seem that impressed, was
determined, indeed, to show just how unimpressed he was; that riff-raff
like me could breeze in like this when I hadn't even brought a bottle. He
gave me the evil eye as our coats brushed. But Shadow had spoken and I was
on my way up to Level 23. It was partytime.

**************************************************************

Fifteen pairs of eyes. Hard eyes, curious eyes, they all stared at this
gatecrasher - who the fuck invited him? I wondered briefly if this was the
team responsible for Sunday night. I tried to force myself to remember just
how dangerous these guys could be, just how far beyond normal human
intercourse they were prepared to go.

He was clearly the centre of attention, the planet around which these
others, his satellites revolved.

"You're Bergman." It wasn't a question.

"You're Michio Tedai."

I'd never seen him before but there was no mistaking him; the slight frame,
the arrogant look. The spitting image.

"Where is my son?"

"Sitting outside in a car."

He nodded briefly and someone behind me started for the door.

"My team have instructions to take off if anyone...anyone...goes near the
car."

The footsteps paused waiting for the nod from Tedai.

"I'm sure you appreciate my taking some elementary precautions here."

There was an uneasy shuffling of feet, some heads went down and someone
placed a glass on a table way too loudly. Probably spilled some.

"What you want?"

"I want to hand Toru over to his Dad safe and sound the way I promised I
would. That's what I want."

Tedai looked at me again, examined me with fresh eyes. Apparantly he had
expected some kind of ransom demand. I carefully, and believe me I took
extra care over this move, carefully picked out my mobile.

"I'll call him up. He can't wait to see you. And he knows what happened - I
think he knows all of it more or less. He knows his grandfather's dead."

There was a tense moment as everyone took this in, considered it. Maybe
they had kids of their own. They watched as I began to punch in the
numbers, apparantly fascinated as to what would happen next; a band of
stone-age tribesmen being shown for the first time how to rub two sticks to
make fire.

"No. Wait." Tedai. "Not here. Let's go outside."

He snapped his fingers and was immediately in a huddle with four or five of
his team, giving orders. They went on ahead and, showing great courtesy,
Tedai gestured for me to go with him. The others fell in behind.

"Mr Bergman. Have you ever seen a Japanese garden?"

That almost made me choke on my peanuts, would have done if I'd been
offered any. I wondered just how loaded a question it was but something in
the tone of voice made me think it was genuine hostly small-talk. He didn't
wait for an answer in any case.

"Let me show you the "Garden in the Air." It's something very special. Very
appropriate for a special occasion. You will agree."

Apparantly I wasn't being offered the choice.

When we had reached the terrace he made an expansive gesture with his hands
and he wasn't wrong, you know; it was something special. As we strolled he
told me the history of the garden, how it was based on a 16th century
design; pointed out the red rocks quarried on the island of Sado in central
Japan, some of them the size of a man's head, the colour of a man's dried
blood. Finally he came to a halt, gazed towards the office blocks of Bunker
Hill and turning, looked at me meaningfully. I took the hint and reached
for my mobile.

"Mike?"

God, was I glad to hear James' voice. I'd had a moment of panic after the
5th ring, thinking they might have taken off for real at the approach of
some innocent pedestrian.

"It's cool, kid. " I said. "We're in the "Garden in the Air." Bring him
up. It's OK, we'll still have time to make it to Hawaii."

This last bit was a piece of code I'd insisted on - if I used the word
"Hawaii", then everything really was cool; I wasn't speaking under duress,
that kind of thing.

"I'd still prefer Bermuda."

This was James' code-word in answer, telling me that everything was right
his end.

I turned to Tedai.

"Having a short vacation - when all this is over."

"Hawaii? I own a couple of hotels there. Maybe I could help you out? Show
you a good time? Show my appreciation."

"That's very kind" I said. "It's...er...all booked. Everything. Thanks."

He was looking at me strangely but let it go. Another 10 minutes went by
and the small talk had dried up. Was probably time to start winding things
down, dim the lights a bit, maybe put on a couple of slow, smoochy numbers
to give people a hint; except it wasn't that kind of party, never had been
really, let's face it. Even the goon squad were beginning to feign interest
in the water feature.

Finally, Tedai gave me a penetrating stare, seemingly coming to some kind
of conclusion about me. His eyes held mine then shifted slightly and
softened. His taut half-frown unfurled and was replaced by a dazzling
smile. I noticed his good teeth. He really ought to try smiling more, it
suited him. His gaze was now somewhere beyond my left shoulder and I turned
round to follow it, was almost knocked over by Toru hurtling past. He threw
himself into his father's arms and was swept up off the ground.

I left them to it, checked out James who was following, escorted by Shadow
and Pride & Joy. He was keeping his cool which is one of the things I'd
worried about.

"Bergman."

All eyes again on Tedai.

"Thankyou for taking good care of my son. I won't forget."

"You should have seen him, Dad! Just one kick - like Jackie Chan. He kicked
that guy's ass from here to fu..."

Toru caught up in his sudden enthusiasm, his happiness, his family.

Tedai gave me another strange look and then laughed. A real laugh though,
not like his old man; the laugh of someone truly grateful to the world. To
life. The others laughed too and the closest ruffled Toru's hair, patted
his shoulder, seemed genuinely fond of him.

I wanted out of here.

"There's one outstanding matter" I said.

All eyes back on me.

"I had an agreement with your father. $150,000 on his safe delivery. That
was the deal."

All eyes back on Tedai. He thought about this, seemed to and suddenly his
face darkened.

"I know of no such agreement! Not my concern!"

Once again I was looking into the face of his father, his father's
snakeskin voice, his choking duststorm of a temper. Dollars. Wind. Dust.

So that was that.

"Toru" he said and urged the boy towards me.

"Thankyou, Mr Bergman" he said sweetly and stuck out his tiny hand. We
shook formally.

"Thankyou, Ja...Mr Ozawa."  They did the same and Toru went back to his
Dad, grabbed his hand and watched solemnly as we were led away. The party
over.

*******************************************************

Back in the house, getting my things together and we still hadn't said
much. James suddenly came up behind me and grabbed my ass, squeezed hard.

"You gotta go? Stay a while, Mike. Just tonight."

I reached for his wrists, pulled his arms upwards and, ducking back under
them, threw him onto the sofa, got on top. I kissed his face hard, moved my
mouth round his eyes, his forehead, back to his lips, all over. I came up
for air.

"I've been thinking. Maybe I'll go to Hawaii after all. I could use a
break."

"Oh right. OK. Er..."

I looked at his face, all confused and unsure of himself, in many ways the
face of a boy. I let him dangle a little longer before putting him out of
his misery. He could get me back later, would do as it turned out.

"I'm not going alone James. What d'you think I'm going to do? Sit in my
hotel room and jerk off?"

He still didn't quite get it. Didn't want to presume, wanted me to spell it
out. I felt a sudden surge of love for him that caught me by
surprise. Surprise at just how strong and implacable it was, an ocean wave
breaking. I had the urge to cover him in thousands of tender kisses, those
kisses that I had witheld from Toru out of...out of what, precisely, I
didn't want to think about. I wanted most of all to make amends for the
danger I had placed him in and to comfort both of us at the loss of our
little guest whose absence we could still not bring ourselves to mention.

"Remember last August - that night?"

He smiled, remembering.

"Let's fuck each other stupid, what you say?"

"What now? Here?"

"Yeah. To start with. Then we can pack a bag and carry on in Hawaii. What
you say?"

He didn't really say anything, just reached down and played with my zipper;
got his fingers working on my cock, brought down his sweet young mouth. I
kissed his head and carried on kissing; wave after wave after wave after
wave after wave...


The End