Authors: Michael J. McCann
“
What kind of advice?”
She shook her head. “It was four years ago now, and it’s getting pretty muddled, but if I remember correctly he asked his father whether or not he should speak to Peter about it. I got the impression his friend was doing something Peter wouldn’t like, and Martin was debating whether or not to intercede on his friend’s behalf.”
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What did your husband say to that?” Karen asked.
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I’m sorry, that’s all I remember. Just Martin’s concern about his friend.”
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What was this friend’s name?”
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That would be Tommy Leung. He and Martin were very close.”
Hank wrote the name down. “What about girlfriends? Martin have anyone he was seeing on a regular basis?”
She nodded. “He had several female friends, but if it was a date then it was Susan Choi he went out with. Her married name is, oh dear, it escapes me. I saw her a couple of months ago in the Walmart. She’s been married for two years now and is expecting her first. Damn, what did she say her husband’s name was?”
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Her name was Susan Choi when Martin dated her?” Hank asked, writing it down.
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Yes.” She pursed her lips. “Charles. That’s it. Her husband’s name is Charles. Charles Chong. Her married name is Susan Chong.”
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Any idea where we’d find her?’ Karen asked.
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Springhill somewhere, that’s all I remember from the conversation. It was one of those two-minute things you do when you’re shopping and you see someone that you used to know.”
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All right,” Karen said. “Have you spoken to Peter Mah lately?”
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No.”
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Did Martin ever mention anyone named Shawn or Gary?”
Meredith shook her head. “No. The names aren’t familiar.”
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No one in the family, your husband’s or yours, by that name?”
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Shawn or Gary? No.”
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No one at work,” Karen prompted, “no one that he hung around with, maybe neighbors or something?”
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No, Detective. I don’t know anyone by either name.”
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All right,” Hank said. He stood up and put his notebook and pen in his jacket pocket. “Thanks very much for your time, Ms. Collier. We appreciate your patience. If you think of anything else you feel we should know, please give us a call.” Hank handed her one of his business cards.
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I don’t quite understand,” Meredith said, taking the card and looking at it. “Why are the police re-opening Martin’s case after all this time?”
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Well, it was never technically closed,” Karen said, passing over one of her cards. “It was kept open and assigned to the Cold Case Unit, but in light of new information that’s recently surfaced we’ve stepped in to investigate further.”
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New information? What new information is that, Detective?”
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These two names, Shawn and Gary. That’s why we were asking you whether they were familiar in any way. These names have recently been connected to your son’s murder.”
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Connected how?”
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That’s what we’d like to find out.” Karen nodded. “Call if you think of anything else.”
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All right.” Meredith held out her hand to Karen. Then she turned to Hank. “I hope you find them. It would be good to have it finally over.”
Hank shook her hand. It was warm and soft, the grip firm and comfortable. “That’s our objective, Ms. Collier. Thanks for your time.”
In the parking lot Hank paused beside the car, looking around. Behind the mall were railroad tracks. A half a block to the west was an overpass where one of the main north-south arteries was elevated to avoid the tracks and the street. Across the street was a strip club set back from the street to allow for ample parking in front. There was only one car in the parking lot, a dusty blue Toyota with a dent in the fender and rust around the wheel wells. On this side of the street next to the mall was an empty lot with a rusted dumpster and tall weeds. Beyond that was a parking lot that ran all the way back to the tracks and a single-story building housing a thrift shop. In the parking lot next to the thrift shop, sitting among the telephone poles and tall weeds, was a police car. There were two officers inside. It looked like they were grabbing something to eat while they kept an eye on the strip club.
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Hey there,” Karen slapped the roof of the Crown Vic to catch his attention. “What the hell was that, Lou, love at first sight?”
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Pardon me?”
Karen pointed with her chin in the direction of the chiropractor’s office. “Went a little fuzzy on me there, didn’t you?”
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I did not.” Hank got into the car, slamming the door.
Karen got in, started the engine and grinned at him. “Christ, you went all glassy-eyed. She pressed your button, didn’t she?”
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You’re off base, Detective.”
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Oops.” Karen shifted into reverse, enjoying herself. Then she bit her lip and shifted back into park.
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Okay. Let’s take a minute and walk through this. The kid worked for a company controlled by his cousin’s family, doing computer stuff. The mother insists he was clean, stayed away from the drugs. You believe her on that? You think it could be true?”
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It’s possible.”
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It’s possible.” Karen rubbed her palm on the top of the steering wheel. “So let’s say for the sake of argument it’s true, that the vic didn’t do drugs and that the drug-sale-gone-bad thing was bogus. We’re leaning in that direction anyways. So say someone shot him somewhere else over something other than drugs, then dumped him in an alley in R Boyz territory and scattered a couple packets of horse to throw everyone off the trail. So why was he killed? Maybe the computer stuff he did for Dicam? Since the company belongs to the Mahs?”
Hank shrugged. “Could be. Maybe something will turn up out there.”
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Another possibility is that he did something to piss off Mah. What did she just say? That his friend did something that Mah wouldn’t like and he was trying to decide whether to stick his nose in? Maybe he interfered in Triad business and got killed for it. Maybe Mah offed his own cousin. Sounds like something a hood like that would do.”
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Maybe, but not likely.”
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Why not?”
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The family angle. Everyone says Peter Mah’s a guy who places a high importance on family connections. Sounds like he was taking Martin under his wing, looking after him, bringing him into the circle where he’d prosper.”
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Okay, yeah, I can buy that. So somebody other than Peter Mah kills Martin Liu somewhere, dumps him in an alley in R Boyz territory to make everyone think it’s a gang killing, and they plant Triad-type drugs on him to make us think the Triad was trying to move into R Boyz territory with Triad product. It’s enough to satisfy Joe Kalzowski, who’s already thinking about where he’s gonna go fishing on his first day of retirement or whatever, but now, looking back, it’s lame and contrived. So let’s go back to Martin Liu being worried about his friend doing something that Peter Mah wouldn’t like. What would Tommy Leung be doing that Peter Mah wouldn’t like?”
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Something contrary to Triad law, presumably,” Hank said, “since Peter is the Red Pole, responsible for punishing Triad wrongdoers.”
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Like what? What are we looking for?”
Hank shrugged. “Could be anything. Betraying society secrets, betraying a Triad confederate, stealing from them, who knows? And we’re assuming that Tommy Leung is Triad too.”
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So we should find this Tommy Leung kid and ask him about it.”
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He’d probably be relieved to get it off his chest.”
Karen laughed dutifully. “Thing about Mah, though,” she said, “is somebody killed his cousin right under his nose. That had to piss him off. He’s the tough guy in charge of enforcement for his gang, the heavy duty bad ass dude, and somebody sneaks in a kidney punch when he’s not looking. It’s gotta really piss him off.”
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Yeah, and it stands to reason he’s been trying to find out who did it over the last four years. It’s safe to assume he didn’t succeed, given his apparent reaction when Taylor Chan started talking.”
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Agreed. He breaks his routine with Grace, stays for tea, chats with Taylor, shows him his tats, the whole deal. He wants to hear more. Time has passed and he hasn’t smacked the guy who dumped in his sandbox. He gets the two names and you can bet he’s hunting them down like the dirty dogs they are.”
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Then Josh Duncan shows up at the Golden Dragon,” Hank said, “wanting to talk to Peter about Martin’s murder.”
Karen frowned. “Yeah, but they beat him up and rob him.”
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There’s some confusion there,” Hank agreed. “But it’s hired help, right? This Billy Fung isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. So Fung thinks Josh is R Boyz and he rough-houses him thinking Peter will pat him on the head for it.”
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But they go back for more the next day,” Karen prompted.
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Yeah, and it struck me at the time that they were there on instructions from someone. Mah, obviously. Josh thought they were coming back to get him again, and maybe he was half-right. They weren’t coming back to finish him off, but maybe to grab him and bring him around for a little chat with Peter.”
Karen nodded. “They got his notebook and iPod and shit. Maybe Mah looked through it, saw what Josh was doing with the boy, and wanted to know everything that Josh had found out.”
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Yeah. He’s out front of us, beating the bushes for Martin’s killer.”
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Ha,” Karen said, “check it out. We’re being buzzed.”
Hank glanced in the side mirror and saw a flash of black and white passing behind them. He looked behind Karen and saw the police cruiser slowly rolling back through the parking lot and behind the strip mall.
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Running our plates,” Karen said.
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Who the hell else would be sitting in a Crown Vic Police Interceptor flapping their gums after fifteen minutes in a chiropractor’s office besides a couple of cops?” Hank complained. “
Christ
.”
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Hey, lighten up, Lou. You remember the life. It’ll brighten up their day a little.”
Hank shook his head.
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Let’s see if they come over or fuck off,” Karen said. “A little IQ test.”
They waited for a few moments and then the cruiser emerged from the far side of the strip mall. The two officers kept their eyes straight ahead as they left the parking lot and turned right, merging with traffic and disappearing down the street.
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Pass,” Karen said.
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That was fun,” Hank said, “but where were we?”
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Peter Mah trying to beat us to Martin Liu’s killer.”
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Yeah.” Hank chewed on his lip for a moment. “He’s going to want to know what the secret game was that Taylor’s talking about. The boy apparently didn’t tell him which friend, so we may actually be ahead of him after all.”
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So we gotta talk to this Tommy Leung kid, shake the tree and see what falls out.”
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I want to stop and talk to Melton in OCU first. He might know about something internal that the Triad dealt with four years ago. It’d help if we had an angle we could use when we question Leung.”
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Okay, let’s get our asses in gear.” Karen threw the car into reverse and backed out of the parking spot. “Hey,” she said, hurling out into traffic, “let’s see if we can find that cruiser on the way and buzz them back.”
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Christ,” Hank said, shaking his head.
Detective Barry Melton’s workstation was on the fifth floor, which was protected from casual traffic by a security door that could only be opened by fifth floor personnel who were issued a special swipe card for the purpose. This floor housed the Intelligence Division, including the Organized Crime Unit and all the security-related computer systems requiring specialized clearance. It was necessary for Hank to pick up the telephone on the wall outside the door and telephone Melton to come let them in. It was an annoyance to everyone except the staff who worked on the floor, since it effectively screened out casual traffic that might show up at one’s desk from other floors to waste one’s time with bureaucratic trivia.
Melton threw open the door and blinked up at Hank. “Come on in.” He held the door open for them to pass through.
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Sorry to bother you,” Hank said. “This shouldn’t take long.”
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No, no, that’s all right,” Melton said, leading the way. “All in a day’s work. Over here.”
This part of the floor was a warren of tiny work spaces with flimsy temporary walls and open doorways. Melton waved them into his workstation and began removing files, books and newspapers from the two chairs in front of his desk so that Hank and Karen could sit down. Hank watched him bustle about, adding files to piles of other files on the floor. Melton was very short, about five foot seven, and as stocky as a primate. He was bald except for a fringe of thick black hair that ran from ear to ear behind his head. His eyes were large and dark. His lips were thick and his cheeks were fleshy. His nose was flat, as though it had been broken several times. He looked like he might be at home down at the docks unloading cargo from a Liberian freighter, but his voice was very soft and cultured, with a faint British accent. He threw himself into the chair behind his desk and folded his hands in front of him.