The Butcher's Granddaughter (32 page)

Tran’s eyes clouded over.

“I just came from the penthouse of the Royal Hawaiian,” I said. “Nice work. Very clean. But I think Parenti was just carrying something around hoping it would save his life. I don’t think even he knew what he had.”

Tran’s expression didn’t change, so I moved forward.

“A couple of weeks ago Li found me at a club in Los Angeles and asked me to save her sister from fucking herself into oblivion. I did that, if for no other reason than it seemed like the right thing to do. The guy this sister was seeing was having some problems with the fact that he wasn’t the only guy she was seeing. Follow me?”

Tran nodded, his lips a grim line. “Song always was indiscreet.”

“Yeah, but this was beyond even
her
ability to screw up. Something didn’t click, and I just figured out a little bit ago what it was. A brainless fatfuck named Sonny T helped me out with it.”

Tran casually reached over and pressed a button on the intercom and said something in Chinese. A grunt from one of the men outside came back. Then Tran said, “And how did Sonny help you?”

“Song was shacking up with a repo man named Jay Ballesteros. He’d been a repo man forever. But I don’t think he’s boosting cars for a living anymore. I think he’s found new work as a recruiter for your mother’s whore business.”

Tran’s eyes got clear again.

“See, I think Li knew when she came to me in the club that Song was already marked. And Li needed some outside, ignorant party to go in there and throw a wrench in the whole thing, a patsy who would just do what she asked without wondering why. The problem is, it was too little too late. I think that Jay had fallen in love with Song on the ship and couldn’t bring himself to kill her when the order came down. But then Jay comes home one night to find Song in the sack with another guy, and suddenly he’s got all the reason in the world. Problem, because I’m there and can put them all together for the fuzz.”

Tran leaned away from the table and exhaled. “I do not understand,” he said calmly. “Song was not a very bright girl by any means. What could she have possibly known that would, as you put it, mark her?”

“Not what. Who. She was friends with another hooker named Josephine. Ring a bell?”

He shook his head, no.

“Our very dead friend Parenti had a thing with her, except the name she used was Ione.”

“Ah, yes. The letter.”

“Right. The letter. The one that promised Parenti she was going to get off that ship, but without saying how. I know how.”

Tran sat and waited. So did I. He finally caught on.

“And you are expecting some sort of compensation for giving me this tidbit?”

And that’s when it all caved in on me. All the greed and the selfishness and the deceit. I fixed my eyes on a point over his head, just to keep from seeing Li’s innocent face on her brother’s shoulders. “That’s funny,” I finally started.

Tran looked puzzled. “I’m sorry?”

I leaned forward on the table and laced my fingers together. “At any other time, from anybody else, I would’ve squeezed everything I could from that offer. But I met your sister at a time when I didn’t have two people in the world that gave a shit about me. The first time she ever saw me I was stinking drunk and stealing cars for a living, and she liked me anyway.” I let the images pour through me, searing as they came. “I trusted your sister, and I don’t trust anybody. She realized that, I think, and in return she trusted me. Not totally, but there was a certainty there that total trust would come with time. In a city full of people who don’t care about anything except what they can sell it for, I’d found the exception that proved the rule. Li was my best friend, Mr. Nguyen. I didn’t realize that until just now. She defied all of this shit. And it finally killed her.”

Tran suddenly stood up and paced a small circle behind his desk. He stuck a thumb in his teeth and started chewing some cuticle. It was the first indication he had given that he was a man under pressure. “As it turns out, it seems I am the one who should be apologizing to you.”

I was suddenly tired, and it felt like a long time went by before I turned to him and said, “What?”

“You were far closer to Li than I ever was. The last time I saw her she was only a baby.” He settled back into his chair, pulled the locket from his coat, and toyed with it. “I am not what you would call a happy man. And you have brought me a small bit of happiness with your memory of Li.” There was no joy in his face as he said it. “I am appreciative.”

I didn’t know how to take that, so I just kept going. I felt like I was purging a disease, and I couldn’t stop. “Li told me that night that Jay was getting done with his last repossession early. But like I said, I don’t think he was doing that any more. I think he was busy killing a redhead named Josephine and stuffing her behind a dumpster on 3rd Avenue.”

Tran’s forehead creased. “Parenti’s whore?”

“Exactly. When the trail sent me to Parenti, he acted like he was still waiting around and packing up to meet her so they could run off into the sunset. But he was lying, and now he’s dead because of it. He already
knew
Josephine had gotten snuffed, and he took it as a warning that someone was onto his little embezzling operation with Cynthia. He thought it was the Ohana. He was wrong. It was you.”

Tran shook his head forcefully. “I never ordered the killing of any hooker from the
Azure Mosaic
,” he said sternly.

“I know. But Parenti
didn’t
. And he wasn’t the only one confused. Ballesteros had to be scratching his head, too, because the kill order didn’t come from Cynthia. It came from Robert Waterston, a man so sick that, as far as I can tell, he was using his daughter as a liaison between himself and Cynthia, and his daughter was screwing him out of the profits he was making laundering money through his art dealerships.
That’s
what Sonny T helped me with.” The image of Sonny’s mouth stretched wide in a scream as I snapped his digits passed through my mind. “Not that his assistance was completely voluntary,” I added.

“For Parenti, the only way out of it was to come clean to the mob, beg for mercy and hand them Sonny T and Big Daddy Waterston in exchange for his life, which is what he was doing here. Problem was, you showed up first, because you thought he had the locket. The locket that showed
you
the location of your sister’s graves. And when he didn’t, you killed him. He probably thought you were from the Ohana the whole time.” I stopped and drummed my fingers heavily on the table.

After some silence, I said, “Mr. Nguyen, be straight with me. What’s in the grave? It’s not really empty, is it?”

He shook his head slowly. “It is filled with my birthright, money that my father sacrificed his life for, and
our
lives, his children’s lives, in a sense.”

“So that’s why everyone and their brother was after that little piece of metal,” I said distantly. “It was the only thing tying you to your past.”

Tran nodded, and I could tell he was beginning to distrust me. That made me nervous. He covered his suspicious expression with a question. “What did Sonny T tell you?” There was a light line of sweat on his upper lip, and I could see him breathing through his starched white shirt and dark jacket.

“He and Parenti have been skimming payments from the Ohana and giving it back to Cynthia, who’s having a lot of exposure problems right now and can’t afford the exorbitant dock fees the mob is charging. Sonny T set up Parenti as a bagman. Poor choice, but Sonny didn’t strike me as a great judge of character.”

The satisfied look floated back into Tran’s eyes and he visibly relaxed. And then the tapping came at the door. Tran cocked his head and said, “In.”

One of the linebackers stepped in and looked at the floor while he said, “Your appointment, Mr. Nguyen.”

“Beg his forgiveness of five minutes, Mr. Tsing, then see him in.” Mr. Tsing bowed slightly and closed the door behind him. Tran returned his gaze to me. “That will be the uncle of one Daniel Ohana. He does not want to see me join the Triad. Neither does he want to see any more killing. He understands that Danny’s death was retribution, but now it must cease. My handling of this will appear very astute in the eyes of the Triad tribunal. For that you are partly responsible. As a gift, I can now offer them Sonny T to do with as they wish. The result of this meeting will be a token of my appreciation for your efforts.”

I had no idea what he meant by that. I sat up. “Just one more question. Did you think that Danny ordered the hits on your sisters? Is that why you popped him?”

Once again, the grim smile. “No. Danny is, or rather was, a simple-minded thug, who did not understand that merely having a name does not automatically grant respect. No organization can long tolerate a man who believes such things.” I didn’t probe any further.

“As long as you know it was Waterston that took out the contracts on your sisters, Mr. Nguyen. Parenti and Sonny T just used him to launder the payoffs from Cynthia. But when Jo King wanted off the ship, she gave up Song to Denise Waterston, who used the information to try to blackmail Cynthia. This scared Cynthia about as much as a newborn kitten, I expect, and so she promptly blew to Daddy Waterston how much he stood to lose if this thing hit the fan, and he decided to start silencing people. Jay Ballestoros was his silencer.” For the last time, Song’s proud, ignorant face flashed before me, turned up defiantly at me in the streetlights, asking me if I
knew who she was
—wielding her newly discovered title like a broken and impotent weapon.

Tran gave a small shrug. His eyes were ice, his voice a steady, arctic breeze. “In our world,” he said, “nothing more than the natural give and take of politics. It will be taken care of.”

I shook my head. “Let me. Please.”

Tran said nothing, but drew the locket back out of his suit coat and stared at it thoughtfully. Perhaps thirty seconds went by. I finally said, very slowly, “
Give him to me.
”

The words stayed between us a long time. Tran played with the locket, running his finger through the braided gold necklace, setting it on the tabletop and pushing it around absently. “He will be punished, of course, as befits his crime and position. Of that you can be assured.”

“Not to my satisfaction. I want him. I have some questions for him.”

He shook his head thoughtfully. “You understand that Mr. Ballesteros is a thug, don’t you? He was merely acting on circumstances that he did not create...albeit circumstances that he stood to benefit greatly from in the eyes of his superiors.”

“I personally don’t view it that way. Jay made a decision that night, conscious, and vicious. I couldn’t care less why he made it. But I’m going to make him tell me anyway. I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do after that.” We searched each other’s eyes for moment. Finally I said, “One way or another, I’ll get to him. I thought maybe you’d see your way clear to helping me out. But believe me, I’m more than happy to do it the hard way.” I turned to leave.

Behind me I heard a soft rattle as he picked the locket off the table, and the soft taps of his shoes as he came around and said, “All right.”

We faced each other once again, for the last time. He explained to me how it would happen. I listened, not saying a word.

When he finished, the door behind me swung open, and a distinguished looking man in his mid-fifties stepped into the room. I stood up and faced him. He had salt-and-pepper hair combed back from a high forehead in a conservative cut. He was tanned and healthy-looking, with a simple gold ring on his left hand and no other visible jewelry. His deep brown eyes swept past me as if I were nothing more than one of the works of art hanging on the wall.

Behind him stood a trembling wreck of a man named Robert Waterston. His face was drawn and hadn’t seen sleep in days. He looked at me with as much recognition as Daniel’s uncle. I considered doing or saying something that would make him recognize me, but stopped short.

Because I recognized him for exactly what he was:

A dead man.

Tran bowed first, and the older man consented with a quick dip. Tran then looked at me and said, “Again, I thank you for your journey.” His hand brushed the breast pocket that held the locket. “Our business is concluded. All of the specifics will be taken care of within days.”

I turned and stepped softly through the door.

Past the tiny Buddhist shrine and the disordered stocking shelves, the old woman was still on her stool, still calmly folding cranes. I bowed politely to her and disappeared into the street.

Epilogue

Honolulu Examiner

June 3rd, 1994

MANOA—The body of Solomon “Sonny T” Tiexiera was found early this morning in the bathtub of his Manoa home, the victim of an apparent suicide. Police discovered the body after neighbors complained of the uncontrolled barking of Tiexiera’s two pit bull terriers.

Linked on several occasions to organized crime, police refrained from suggesting any foul play in Tiexiera’s death. In a statement to the press earlier today...

Los Angeles Times, Orange County Edition

June 4th, 1994

NEWPORT BEACH—Local business magnate Robert Waterston was found dead yesterday in his home in Corona Del Mar. Police are initially calling the death a suicide. The incident comes only a day after a grand jury handed down an indictment of Waterston on charges of money laundering. A Newport Beach Police investigation uncovered financial connections between his highly successful art brokerage and the prostitution ring of Cynthia Dazhai Ming, a high-end madam known locally as the “Yacht Princess.”

On a tip from local private investigator Richard Cane, Newport Beach police began the investigation of Waterston. His financial records revealed receipts for expensive works of European modern art that had never been purchased...