Carballo was a huge man with a scraggly beard and blue eyes that were like daggers. He had a long prison record. He had been on trial for murder. The evidence against him was overwhelming, but a member of the jury stubbornly held out for acquittal, and it ended up in a hung jury. Only a few people knew that the juror's little daughter had disappeared and a note was left behind: If you keep quiet about this, your daughter's fate will be determined by the jury's verdict.
Carballo was the kind of man Tanner Kingsley admired.
TANNER HAD ALSO heard about an ex-felon named Harry Flint. He had investigated Flint's life thoroughly and decided he was perfect for his needs.
Harry Flint had been born in Detroit, into a middle-class family. His father was a bitter, failed salesman who spent his time sitting around the house complaining. He was a sadistic martinet, and at his son's slightest infraction, he enjoyed whipping him, using a ruler, a belt, or anything else that was handy, as though he wanted to beat success into his son to make up for his own inadequacy.
The boy's mother worked as a manicurist at a barbershop. While Harry's father was tyrannical, his mother was devoted and doting, and as young Harry grew up, he was emotionally whipsawed between the two.
Doctors had told Harry's mother that she was too old to have a child, so she considered her pregnancy a miracle. After Harry was born, she lovingly fondled him and was constantly hugging him, patting him, and kissing him until eventually Harry felt smothered by her love. As he got older, he loathed being touched.
WHEN HARRY FLINT was fourteen years old, he trapped a rat in the basement and stomped on it.
As he stared at the rat slowly, painfully dying, Harry Flint had an epiphany. He suddenly realized he had the awesome power to take life, to kill. It made him feel like God. He was omnipotent, all-powerful. He needed to have that feeling again, and he began to stalk small animals around the neighborhood, and they became his prey. There was nothing personal or malicious about what Flint was doing. He was just using his God-given talent.
Angry neighbors whose pets were being tortured and killed complained to the authorities, and a trap was set. The police put a Scottish terrier on the front lawn of a house with a leash to keep her from running away. They staked out the site, and one night, as the police watched, Harry Flint approached the animal.
He pried the dog's mouth open and started to insert a lit firecracker. The police pounced. When Harry Flint was frisked, he had a bloody rock and a five-inch fillet knife in his pocket.
He was sent to Challenger Memorial Youth Center for twelve months.
One week after Flint arrived, he attacked one of the other boys, maiming him badly. The psychiatrist who examined Flint diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic.
'He's psychotic,' the doctor warned the guards in charge. 'Be careful. Keep him away from the others.' When Harry Flint had served his time, he was fifteen years old and was released on probation. He returned to school. Several of his classmates looked upon Flint as a hero. They had become involved in petty crimes such as snatching purses, lifting wallets, and shoplifting, and Flint soon became their leader.
In an alley fight one night, a knife sliced a corner of Flint's lip, giving him a permanent half-smile.
As the boys grew older, they turned to carjacking, burglary, and robbery. One of the robberies became violent, and a shopkeeper was killed. Harry Flint was convicted of armed robbery and abetting a murder, and sentenced to ten years in prison. He was the most vicious prisoner the warden had ever seen.
There was something in Harry Flint's eyes that made other prisoners leave him alone. He constantly terrorized them, but no one dared report him.
One day, as a guard passed Harry Flint's cell, he stared inside unbelievingly.
Flint's cell mate was lying on the floor, in a pool of blood. He had been beaten to death.
The guard looked at Flint, and there was a smile of satisfaction on his face.
'All right, you bastard.
You won't get out of this one. We can start warming up the chair for you.' Flint glared at him and slowly raised his left arm. A bloody butcher knife was deeply imbedded in it.
Flint said coldly, 'Self-defense.' The prisoner in the cell across from Flint never told anyone that he had seen Flint savagely beat his cell mate to death, then pull out a butcher knife from under his own mattress and slice the knife through the flesh of his arm.
THE CHARACTERISTIC THAT Tanner most admired about Flint was that Flint enjoyed his work so much.
Tanner remembered the first time that Flint had proven to him how useful he could be. It was during an emergency trip to Tokyo…
'TELL THE PILOT to warm up the Challenger. We're going to Japan. There will be two of us.' The news had come at a bad time, but it had to be taken care of immediately, and it was too sensitive to entrust to anyone else. Tanner had arranged for Akira Iso to meet him in Tokyo and to take a room at the Okura Hotel.
While the plane was crossing the Pacific Ocean, Tanner was planning his strategy. By the time the plane landed, he had worked out a win-win situation.
The drive from Narita airport took one hour, and Tanner was amazed by how Tokyo never seemed to change. In boom times and in depressions, the city always seemed to wear the same impassive face.
AKIRA ISO WAS waiting for him at the Fumiki Mashimo restaurant. Iso was in his fifties, with a spare figure, gray hair, and bright brown eyes. He stood up to greet Tanner.
'It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Kingsley. Frankly, I was surprised to hear from you. I cannot imagine why you would come all this way to meet me.' Tanner smiled. 'I'm the bearer of good news that I thought was too important to discuss on the telephone. I think I'm going to make you a very happy man, and a very rich one.' Akira Iso was looking at him curiously. 'Yes?' A white-jacketed waiter had come to the table.
'Before we talk business, why don't we order?' 'As you wish, Mr. Kingsley. Are you familiar with Japanese dishes or shall I order for you?' 'Thank you. I can order. Do you like sushi?' Yes.
Tanner turned to the waiter. 'I'll have hamachi-temaki, kaibashira, and ama-ebi.' Akira Iso smiled. 'That sounds good.' He looked at the waiter. 'I'll have the same.' While they were eating, Tanner said, 'You work for a very fine company, Tokyo First Industrial.' 'Thank you.' 'How long have you worked there?' 'Ten years.' 'That's a long time.' He looked Akira Iso in the eye and said, 'In fact, it might be time to make a change.' 'Why would I want to do that, Mr. Kingsley?' 'Because I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse. I don't know how much money you make, but I am willing to pay you twice as much to leave them and come to work for KIG.'
'Mr. Kingsley, that is not possible.' 'Why not? If it's because of a contract, I can arrange-' Akira Iso put down his chopsticks. 'Mr. Kingsley, in Japan, when we work for a company, it is like a family. And when we can no longer work, they take care of us.' 'But the money I'm offering you-' 'No. Aisha seishin.' 'What?' 'It means that we put loyalty above money.' Akira Iso looked at him curiously.
'Why did you choose me?' 'Because I've heard very flattering things about you.' 'I'm afraid you have taken a long trip for nothing, Mr. Kingsley. I would never leave Tokyo First Industrial.' 'It was worth a try.' 'There are no hard feelings?' Tanner leaned back and laughed. 'Of course not. I wish all my employees were as loyal as you are.' He remembered something. 'By the way, I brought you and your family a little gift. An associate of mine will bring it to you. He'll be at your hotel in an hour. His name is Harry Flint.'
