“He needs to be put away.”
“That’s what we’re calling ‘treatment,’ Inez. We’re calling it ‘treatment’ when we talk to the homicide guys and we’re calling it ‘treatment’ when we talk to the shrinks and we’re calling it ‘treatment’ when we talk to Frank Tawagata.”
“I don’t even know Frank Tawagata.”
“You don’t know the homicide guys, either, Inez. Just pretend we’re spending the rest of the day on patrol. I’m on point.” Billy Dillon looked at Inez. “You all right?”
“Yes.”
“Then trot out the smile and move easily through the cabin, babe, OK?”
9
“I DON’T need to tell you, Frank, Harry appreciates what you did for him in Miami,” Billy Dillon said at two o’clock that afternoon in Frank Tawagata’s office. Billy Dillon and Inez had already seen the homicide detectives assigned to the investigation and they had already seen the psychiatrists assigned to examine Paul Christian and by then it was time to see Frank Tawagata. In fact Inez did know Frank Tawagata. She had met him at the 1972 convention. He had been a delegate. He was a lawyer, but his being a lawyer was not, Billy Dillon had said, the reason for seeing him. “This is a guy who truly believes, you want to get your grandma into heaven, you call in a marker at the courthouse,” Billy Dillon had said. “Which is his strong point.”
“You went to the wire for us in ’72,” Billy Dillon said now. “Harry knows that.”
“Harry did one or two things for Wendell.” Frank Tawagata did not look at Inez. “Anything I did for Harry I did for Wendell. Strictly.”
“Harry knows that. Harry appreciates your position. Push comes to shove, you’re on Wendell’s team here. Which is why we’re hot pushing, Frank. You talk to Harry or me, you’re talking in camera. Strictly.”
“Strictly in camera,” Frank Tawagata said, “I still can’t help you.”
“You can’t, you can’t. Just say the word.”
“I just said it.”
Inez watched Billy Dillon. She was tired. She had not eaten since breakfast the day before in Amagansett. She did not know what it was that Billy Dillon wanted from Frank Tawagata but she knew that he would get it. She could tell by the slight tensing of his shoulders, the total concentration with which he had given himself over to whatever it was he wanted.
“Wendell was a very well-liked guy,” Billy Dillon said. “In the community. I know that.”
“Very well-liked.”
“Very respected family. The Omuras. Locally.”
“Very respected.”
“Not unlike the Christians. Ironic.” Billy Dillon looked out the window. “One of the Omuras is even involved with Dwight Christian, isn’t he? Via Wendell? Some kind of business deal? Some trade-off or another?”
Frank Tawagata had not answered immediately.
Billy Dillon was still looking out the window.
“I wouldn’t call it a trade-off,” Frank Tawagata said then.
“Of course you wouldn’t, Frank. Neither would I.”
There was a silence.
“Wasn’t your wife an Omura?” Billy Dillon said. “Am I wrong on that?”
“No,” Frank Tawagata said after a slight pause.
“Your wife wasn’t an Omura?”
“I meant no, you’re not wrong.”
Billy Dillon smiled.
“So there would be a definite conflict,” Frank Tawagata said, “if you were asking me to work on the defense.”
“We’re not talking ‘defense,’ Frank. We’re talking a case that shouldn’t see trial.”
“I see.”
“We’re talking a sick man. Who needs help.” Billy Dillon glanced at Inez. “Who needs treatment. And is going to get it.”
“I see,” Frank Tawagata said. “Yes.”
“Look. Frank. All we need from you is a reading. A reading on where the markers are, what plays to expect. You know the community. You know the district attorney’s office.”
Frank Tawagata said nothing.
“I wouldn’t think there was anybody shortsighted enough to see a career in playing this out in the media, but I don’t know the office. For all I know, there’s some guy over there operating in the bozo zone. Some guy who thinks he can make a name going to trial, embarrassing the Christians.”
Frank Tawagata said nothing.
“Embarrassing Harry. Because face it, the guy to get is Harry.”
“I would say ‘was’ Harry.”
“Run that down for me.”
“Harry’s already been got, hasn’t he? In ’72?”
“Free shot, Frank. You deserve it. One of Wendell’s cousins, isn’t it? This deal with Dwight Christian?”
Frank Tawagata picked up a silver pen from his desk and poised it between his index fingers.
Inez watched Billy Dillon’s shoulders. Killer mick, Harry always said about Billy Dillon, an accolade.
Billy Dillon leaned forward almost imperceptibly.
It occurred to Inez that the reason Harry was not himself a killer was that he lacked the concentration for it. Some part of his attention was always deflected back toward himself. A politician, Jack Lovett had said at Puncak. A radio actor.
“Didn’t I see something about this in Business Week?” Billy Dillon said. “Just recently? Something about the container business? Is that right? One of Wendell’s cousins?”
“One of Wendell’s brothers.” Frank Tawagata replaced the pen in its onyx holder before he spoke again. “My wife is a cousin.”
“There you go,” Billy Dillon said. “I love a town this size.”
By three o’clock that afternoon it had been agreed, and could be duly reported to Harry Victor, that Frank Tawagata would sound out the district attorney’s office on the most discreet and expeditious way to handle the eventual commitment to treatment of Paul Christian.
It had been agreed that Frank Tawagata would discuss the advisability of this disposition with certain key elements in the Nisei political community.
It had been agreed that Frank Tawagata would make his special understanding of both the district attorney’s office and the community available to whatever lawyer was chosen to represent Paul Christian at what would ideally be mutually choreographed proceedings.
“You’re not visualizing a criminal specialist,” Frank Tawagata said.
“I’m visualizing a goddamn trust specialist,” Billy Dillon said. “One of the old-line guys. One of those guys who’s not too sure where the crapper is in the courthouse. I told you. We’re not mounting a criminal defense here.”
All that had been agreed upon and it had been agreed, above all, that no purpose would be served by further discussion of why Wendell Omura had introduced legislation hindering the development of Dick Ziegler’s Sea Meadow, of how that legislation might have worked to benefit Dwight Christian, or of what interest Wendell Omura’s brother might recently have gained in the Chriscorp Container Division.
“How exactly did you know that,” Inez said when she and Billy Dillon left Frank Tawagata’s office.
“Just what I said. Business Week. Something I read on the plane coming down.”
“About Dwight?”
“Not specifically.”
“About Dick?”
“About some Omura getting into containers. Two lines. A caption. That’s all.”
“You didn’t even know it was Wendell Omura’s brother?”