= DOMESTICATED VIOLENCE
  A Kay Yoshinobu Mystery
  by John A. Broussard


Sid Chu and Kay Yoshinobu agreed that today was an unusual day. The work at the law office was mostly caught up, they had decided to go out to a leisurely lunch, and both were looking forward to an afternoon at a different kind of court - a tennis court. Halfway through the meal, the jangling sound of Kay's cell phone brought a look of disgust to Sid's face.

"Why, oh why didn't you leave that thing at work?" he asked.

Kay shrugged. "It's just probably someone who wants to sell me siding for the house I don't have."

Whoever it was, the conversation was definitely one-sided. Kay hung up, explaining, "Shinzo Murakami is in the hospital. He left word for me to call him."

Sid knew the name well. Murakami was one of the few other attorneys on Elima specializing in criminal law, and Kay had been his clerk during her law student years. Murakami undoubtedly wanted a favor, and Kay's admiration and respect for the old lawyer would make refusal impossible, whatever he asked.

"Can we at least finish our meal?" Sid's voice was pleading.

"Sure. It isn't serious. I'll even wait until we get back to the office to call him. And don't go looking so disappointed. There should still be time for a set."

There wasn't. Back at the office, after a lengthy conversation with her former employer, Kay explained that Murakami had had a mild stroke, was retiring from practice and was passing one of his most recent clients along to her. Kay was now representing Candace Doland, former Miss Napua Coffee, and the recently widowed young wife of Napua First National President Bank, Hector Doland.

Sid let out a low whistle. "A headliner! At least we won't have to worry about getting paid. Old Doland was worth a mint. Best of all, this is one case where you can forget that investigative urge of yours. She confessed right off the bat that she killed him. She's out on bail, isn't she?"

Kay nodded. "I'm on my way to see her right now, after I pick up her file from Shinzo Murakami's office. Want to come along?"

"I guess that takes care of tennis," Sid said, shaking his head both in disappointment and in reply to the question.

"Cheer up, Sid. There'll be another day."

What Kay had assumed would be a simple one-on-one interview turned out to be a crowded session, even in Candace Doland's multiple-roomed, rambling, ranch-style mansion on Kawa Hill. The widow had been descended upon by a neighbor, Melissa Chang, and by Candace's relatives, all large -- her mother, her older sister and her super-large brother. Choko Lookela was well over six foot tall and weighed in the neighborhood of three hundred and fifty pounds, and even Kay - who was no sports fan - recognized him immediately as Shikoru. Hawaiian sumo wrestlers had had a significant impact on Japanese sumo wrestling, and Shikoru was the new Polynesian star rising on the horizon.

Her first thought on seeing him was that her mother, the sumo fan of the family, would be all excited at hearing about Kay's meeting with the famous Hawaiian. Kay's second reaction was that she, herself, would have been happier if neither he nor Candace's other visitors had been present.

At the moment, the future grand champion was occupying over half of an overstuffed couch, earphones on his head, and eating pork rinds. It took only moments after the round of introductions for Kay to realize that she wouldn't learn much from Candace while her family was there. The time was being fully occupied by a loud argument. Candace's mother and sister were insisting that Shikoru stay with Candace while they were off to Oahu to be with yet another of Candace's sisters, who was apparently expecting a baby any day now. For some reason, Candace was adamantly opposed to the idea of Shikoru staying.

Shikoru grinned, slid the earphones down on his enormous neck and said, "No worry, Candy. This one big house. I'll stay over in the other wing and be quiet like one mouse. No bother you when you get company. They never know I'm even here." With that, he rose effortlessly and, in spite of his bulk, slipped quietly out of the room and went off in the direction of the kitchen. Kay was amazed at how swiftly the vast figure could move, how the feet whose ring stomp would make the walls of an arena resound could glide so silently across the room.

After Shikoru left, the argument died down sufficiently for Kay to inveigle Candace into showing her the death scene. In spite of her animation during the argument, Candace's emotional response in the bedroom where the killing had occurred was now singularly flat. "I was standing here," she said, pointing to a spot in front of the king-sized bed. "Hecky was mad at me for I don't know what. He had this gun in the night table on his side of the bed. He came at me with it, and I got scared. I tried to push the gun away and that's when it went off. The next thing I knew he was on the floor, blood all over. Then I called the police."

"Didn't any of the neighbors hear the shot?"

Candace appeared puzzled by the question and seemed to have never thought about it. Kay arrived at the answer without her client's help, as she remembered the long driveway leading up to the house, the buffering effect of the trees and bushes along the periphery of the large lot, and the distance to the neighboring houses equally sheltered from outside noises.

The matter-of-fact voice along with Candace's dull gaze, to say nothing of the unconvincing story she was telling, indicated to Kay that she was probably dealing with someone of limited intelligence. She wasn't looking forward to defending Candace Doland. The comments of her client's mother and sister did little to persuade her otherwise.

Candace's mother insisted that Hector Doland had been both verbally and physically abusive. Her sister and Melissa seconded the comments. Candace herself nodded in agreement. The virtually fruitless session ended abruptly with Candace's mother announcing that they had to catch the next plane to Honolulu and that Shikoru, Melissa and Candace would drop them off at the airport.

As the four women climbed aboard the van, Shikoru hung back, and it became obvious he wanted to say something to Kay out of earshot of his relatives. What he did have to say surprised her. "Ma believes everything Candy says. But Hector never hit Candy. First time he did, I would a broke both his arms. Second time, I would a broke both his legs. Third time...." There was a long pause. He shook his head and his broad features broke into a malicious grin. "There would'n a been a third time."

Kay watched as he slipped effortlessly up and into the driver's seat. The van, already heavily loaded, sank several more inches. Shikoru was the only one who waved as they drove off. His last remarks left her wondering. Had he been just trying to be macho? But why would someone whose arms at the biceps were bigger around then her waist need to display his masculinity? And what would he gain by calling his sister a liar? Certainly, she would not be calling on him as a witness if self-defense was to be an issue in the case.

Back at the office, Kay finally found time to look at the file she had picked up from Murakami's receptionist. The police report contained a confession that was essentially the same as the one Candace had recited to Kay. The rest of the contents provided little of significance, with one exception. The item that caught Kay's full attention was a lurid color photograph with a note in Murakami's spidery handwriting clipped to it.

The note read, "Mrs. Doland claims this occurred at their home on January eleventh of this year. She did not report it to the police at the time. She did go to the Napua Clinic for treatment where she told the doctor it was a fall resulting from slipping on a rug. She now says her husband struck her."

Murakami's apparent skepticism at a photo of Candace's horribly bruised face and blackened eye reinforced Kay's earlier decision to drop by the hospital for a visit - and for more information about the case than she was finding in the folder.

The old attorney looked tired, but his eyes still contained the remarkable brightness Kay remembered as a first year law student. She had learned much from him and still referred to him as sensei, teacher. Murakami in turn always used her Japanese name.

"It is so nice to see you again, Keiko," he said, reaching a hand up from his hospital bed.

"And nice to see you, too, Sensei, though I wish I were doing so back in your office with you practicing law."

He waved a dismissive hand. "There comes a time for all of us when we have to accept the passage of time." His face broke into a smile. "Perhaps this is what I needed to persuade me to retire. And law practice is losing much of its appeal."

"The Doland case?" Kay prompted.

"Yes. I'm afraid I may have passed an unbearable burden along to you."

"You don't believe her?"

"As you know, clients do have the unfortunate tendency of being less than frank with their attorneys. I'm afraid Mrs. Doland has that tendency to a remarkable degree, and she isn't sufficiently intelligent to carry it off convincingly."

"So you feel her self-defense argument is a lie."

"Most certainly. And, as you have undoubtedly recognized by now, it is not one that will stand up well to cross examination."

"But the photo?"

"I was suspicious, but after checking with Dr. Lim at the Clinic, the dates and the condition check out. It's not a doctored photograph."

That will save me a trip to the clinic, Kay thought. "So you suspect that Mrs. Doland may have actually been provoked into killing her husband without it necessarily being self-defense."

"I would go further than that. I think the killing was premeditated. The fact that her story is so inadequate would seem to indicate that the killing was poorly planned. For one thing, she has a very confused notion about Mr. Doland's finances. I got the distinct impression that she thought she would inherit all of his money."

"Is that why she's claiming self-defense?"

"I believe so. Somewhere she's heard that if she is found not guilty because the death was accidental or because she was simply defending herself, then she would inherit the entire estate. But, what she doesn't realize is that she'll be very fortunate to get off with a manslaughter charge. In that case, she'll receive only half of the money, which is hers by law, of course. However, that is still a very substantial amount. There was no pre-nuptial agreement, by the way."

"Wasn't he married before?"

"Yes. His first wife died of cancer about three years ago. No children. Just one living relative--David or Dennis... something like that--son of an older brother. In any event, as I said, I regret burdening you with the case. But she still deserves the best defense possible, and I know you can provide that."

On the drive back to the office, Kay rummaged through her mixed feelings. It was nice to see that Murakami had so much faith in her skills as an attorney, but she wasn't looking forward to defending someone who lied--and did so with such ineptitude. She was still mulling over the need to confront Candace and find out what really happened, when Sid greeted her at the entrance to her office.

"Got some news for you," he said.

Kay only half listened as she slipped into her chair. The news he had for her finally got her full attention.

"I was in the prosecutor's office trying to work out a plea for Domie Schmidt."

"Your three-time loser?"

"Yeah. Believe me, it isn't easy."

"So what's the news for me?"

Sid grinned. "Well, while the prosecutor was out hunting up Domie's file I saw a sheet on his desk with Doland in big letters at the top."

"Sid!" Kay exclaimed, "You weren't actually reading confidential material on his desk, were you?"

"Aw, c'mon, Kay. I didn't go around and look at it. I just read it upside down. You couldn't go asking me to shut my eyes. Besides, it really isn't confidential. It's a preliminary list of witnesses, which he'll have to pass along to you sooner or later anyway."

Kay was still annoyed, but curious.

Sid's grin returned as he purposely took his time before telling her what he had read. "Dr. McPhearson, the psychiatrist, as you might expect. Just in case you try to pull an insanity defense or something similar. The second name will throw you, though. Missy Martinez."

"The tennis professional?" Kay had actually taken lessons from Missy at one time, and had considerable respect for her powerful forehand.

"I thought that might come as a surprise. Do you know of any connection between Missy and the Widow Doland?"

Kay shook her head, saying, "No. But I'm going to find out. Looks like I'll get to the tennis court this week after all."

"Whoa. Wait a minute. You can't go questioning Missy now that you know she's going to be a witness. Word will get back to the prosecutor and...."

"Relax," Kay said with a laugh. "I'm not going to get you into trouble, even though you should be gotten into trouble. No. I won't be looking her up. Instead, I'm going to talk to the hostess there and maybe some of the other attendants. Someone may have seen Candace at the courts. Maybe there with Missy. Who knows? This might produce something significant, especially since the prosecutor seems to think there is something significant there."

Sid let out a sigh. "You know, Kay, it doesn't seem to matter what the case is, you always find an excuse to spend most of your time investigating. And, believe me, one of these days you're going to get into big trouble because of it."

The results of this particular bit of investigation produced far more than Kay had anticipated. The tennis hostess was not only aware that Missy and Candace knew each other, but was actually eager to describe an incident involving the two of them from the past January. "Hey, you never saw a shiner like that one. Missy was taking a hefty swing at a ball when Mrs. Doland stepped too close behind her."

Kay shook her head at the double lie she had now caught Candace in. The injury hadn't occurred at home, and her husband was most certainly not responsible for it. The time had arrived to confront the client and--with at least the mother, sister and Melissa gone--this second interview promised to be somewhat more productive. It was, but not because of anything Candace said.

The widow was not home alone. It was soon evident that the grieving widow was looking for more from her companion, introduced as Daniel Doland, than mere commiseration for her loss. Just the way she looked at her young and not unattractive step-nephew-in-law indicated more than a passing interest, though Kay could see scant indication that the feelings were reciprocated.

As it turned out, the actual questioning under these circumstances proved as unproductive as the earlier interview. Daniel gave the widow little chance to defend herself against Kay's thinly disguised charges of lying. The photo only produced protests that the tennis accident had happened on an earlier occasion. And Daniel rushed in to fill the gap in credibility, insisting that he had been present during the altercation between husband and wife that had produced the damage portrayed in the photo.

Every attempt to shake Candace's description of her husband's demise met only resistance, though Kay could see some of the defenses crumbling despite Daniel's constant attempts to shore up the works. Once more, Kay was wishing she could be alone with her client, and she finally decided it was time to insist on it.

Before leaving, she made it crystal clear that she would be expecting to talk to Candace again. Trying to control her temper, she also made it plain that the talking would take place at the law office, and that only the two of them would be present. The reluctant client, in spite of Daniel's vigorous protest, finally agreed to be there the following morning--alone. Kay left the two of them debating over a choice of restaurants for dinner.

That evening a mystery novel was helping Kay to ease out from under the day's tensions when the phone rang. Even before he identified himself, she recognized Daniel's voice. It sounded strained. "Candy wants to see you."

The thought that Candace considered Kay to be at her beck and call annoyed her. "Tell her she can talk to me in the morning."

Silence on the other end of the phone followed, along with indications of a whispered consultation. "Hang on a minute." A pause and the muffled sound of Daniel's voice asking a question, then, "She says she wants to talk to you now, but she's crying and...."

A revised confession? Kay's exasperation was tempered somewhat by the possibility that her client might finally have decided to tell the truth. Perhaps it would be best if she saw Candace while she was still in the mood.

"OK. Tell her I'll be there in about fifteen minutes."

The drive actually took nearer to twenty and gave Kay time to rethink the case. Was Candace going to describe how she'd planned the murder of her husband? Did she really have the smarts to do such planning? For the first time, Kay gave serious thought to the possibility of an accomplice. The obvious one would have been someone in the family. And family loyalty would certainly prevent Candace from admitting to their help. But what would they have to gain? Shikoru, for one, was smart enough to see that Candace would get only half of Hector Doland's money if she killed her husband... unless... unless he was the one who convinced her that she'd never be convicted of the crime, and so would inherit all of her dead husband's money.

Kay was knocking on the door when the correct answer struck her. And then the answer came too late. Daniel greeted her with an automatic in hand. There were no preliminaries, no full confession, just an amused expression as he waved her into the room and raised the gun to aim it at her head--and a few words. "Too bad you're so smart and Candy is so dumb, but she won't have a chance to tell you the truth--or for you to hear it."

There was no flashing of her life before her. All there was was total, abject terror. The muzzle of the gun seemed enormous. If she were conscious of anything besides the weakness in her knees, it was that a silent, bulky shape had loomed into the room behind the gunman. The next moment Daniel had crumpled to the floor. Shikoru barely looked at the still form as he stepped over it, readjusted his earphones and said, "Candace said she had more pork rinds in the kitchen cupboard."

Kay was still shaken the next morning, but she wasn't about to tell Sid how close she had come to being a murder victim.

"Do you mean to tell me she didn't kill her husband, even though she confessed?" he asked.

"That's exactly right. She was in love and was willing to cover for Daniel Doland, mostly because he convinced her that, as a battered wife, she'd never be convicted. He pretty much believed that, himself. I'm sure he planned on marrying her if she got off, then he would be getting the whole schmeer. But what was really clever was the fact that, even if she was convicted, he stood to get half the money as Doland's only living relative. And if he was willing to marry a jailbird, he would probably have been able to take over her half, as well. The main thing was that he needed Hector Doland dead to get any of it."

"Amazing that Shikoru figured out what happened and knocked him out before you got there."

"It sure was. Daniel made the mistake of pulling a gun on him, but he should be out of the hospital in time for his trial."

"What I can't understand is how Daniel planned to cover up Shikoru's murder."

"Why, I'm sure he was going to kill Candace as soon as she came home from Melissa Chang's, where she'd been visiting, and make it look like a murder-suicide."

What Sid didn't know wouldn't hurt him, Kay thought. She'd avoided mentioning that she herself had been one of Daniel's intended victims; obviously, he'd realized that she was getting too close to the truth. Sid's dire warnings about the dangers of investigating would have come to pass if Shikoru hadn't been there. But, Kay rationalized, Shikoru had been there, and everything had turned out just fine.

She thought aloud, "I owe Shikoru a lot."

Sid looked puzzled, "Why's that?"

"Oh. He gave me his autograph. For my mother, you know. She's a big sumo fan. Thinks Shikoru is the best. My, but she'll be pleased."


JOHN A. BROUSSARD was born in Cambridge, Mass in 1924 and graduated from Harvard and the University of Washington. He taught on the college level for twenty years and wrote non-fiction and reviews before turning to fiction; he's sold about sixty short stories recently. John's first novel, a fantasy called MANA, was published in November by Pulsar Books. His series characters Kay Yoshinobu and Sid Chu, who made their debut on HandHeldCrime, will appear in their first novel, "The Death of the Tin Man's Wife" in January 2001. It will be published in e-book format by Shyflower Press. You can find more information at www.fictionwritings.com.

Copyright (c) 2001 John A. Broussard