Blood Passage (16 page)

“
You’re aware,” Lester Ping said to Peter, “that I work in one of the warehouses on River Street used by Mr. Leung for his electronics business.”

Peter nodded.

“
Young Mr. Leung, the son, is in the next building. He has a large office upstairs, nicely furnished, very comfortable. Last week was the first time I ever saw the inside of this building, as I always mind my own business and stay where I’m told to stay.”

“
I understand, Mr. Ping,” Peter said. Ping was excusing himself for not having reported before whatever it was that he was reporting now.

“
Last week, however,” Ping went on, “I delivered a bundle of credit cards to young Mr. Leung’s office as a favor for one of the others. The man in question had to rush off unexpectedly, as his wife was giving birth. Mr. Leung was expecting the cards within the hour and I agreed to finish the job and take them over. Inside the other building I had to ask the way to Mr. Leung’s office. It was necessary to hand-deliver the cards directly to Mr. Leung, you see. So I was shown upstairs and into Mr. Leung’s office. I gave the cards directly to Mr. Leung.”

Ping paused.

Peter suppressed a wave of impatience. “And?”

“
I left as soon as he took the bundle of credit cards from my hand. They were very good work, incidentally. We pay ten dollars each for the holograms and have developed a technique to embed them into the plastic of the card rather than affix them to the surface where they can be felt by someone with a sensitive touch.”

“
I know,” Peter said, “I’ve seen them.”

“
In any event,” Ping went on, “when Mr. Leung’s office door was opened for me by his secretary he was showing two men out another door at the back.”

“
I see,” Peter said.

“
I only saw them for a second, but I saw them again a few days later.”

“
The same two men?”

“
They were unmistakable. It was mid-afternoon and I had walked around the back for a cigarette. Mr. Leung was talking to them in the parking lot behind his building. One man was a
gwailo
and the other a large black man. He shook hands with them, patted the black man on the back and they got into their car and drove away.”

Lam stirred. “Lester told me about this immediately.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Interesting. Well done, Mr. Ping. Can you describe them in more detail?”

“
The Caucasian was perhaps five-ten and weighed about 180 pounds. He was maybe 40 years old. Straight dark hair. The black man was very big, maybe six-three or six-four, two hundred and forty pounds, shaved head. Black golf shirt, baggy chinos, big white sneakers. Obviously a muscle man.”

“
I see,” Peter said.

“
They drove away in a black sport utility vehicle.”

“
Did you happen to notice the license plate number?”

Ping recited the number.

“
I’ve heard from Hong Kong,” Lam said, “that something’s wrong here. The whispers say that someone has been revealing
Hung
secrets to outsiders and stealing money that should be coming to the brotherhood. Obviously these violations of the sworn oaths must be corrected immediately. Perhaps Eddie Leung can help you find the culprit.”

“
Leave it with me,” Peter said.

Within an hour he was walking unannounced into the flagship store of the Pagoda Home Electronics chain on Lancaster Road with Jimmy Yung, Donald Sheng and Foo Yee. Benny Hu remained in the car outside the front door.

Donald Sheng was a stocky, taciturn fighter who’d come to Peter from his father’s dockyards many years ago. Foo Yee was a slender, wiry man from Hong Kong who’d been with Peter for four years. He was a master in multiple martial arts and an expert in firearms.

Peter led the way past displays of widescreen televisions, iPods, home theater systems and digital cameras to a staircase in the back corner leading upstairs to the main offices. At the foot of the stairs his way was blocked by a chunky Asian woman in black trousers, a yellow golf shirt with the Pagoda Home Electronics logo on the front and a name tag that said “Annie” and “Assistant Manager.”

“
May I ask where you think you’re going, young man?” she said, fists on her hips.

Peter gazed at her in surprise. Behind him, Jimmy Yung grunted but Peter made a quick, unobtrusive signal with his hand to negate any action. A man dressed identically to Annie came hurrying over to defuse the situation. His name tag said “Ken” and “Manager.”

“
I’m very, very sorry, Mr. Mah, please forgive her. She’s new, from the store in Wilmingford.” His face filled with alarm and fear, he moved Annie away from the staircase.

“
That’s quite all right,” Peter said. “No harm done.”

“
Thank you, Mr. Mah, thank you.” Ken herded Annie toward an aisle of printer cartridges, hissing in her ear, “Don’t you know who that
is
?”

Peter went up the stairs and down a long, well-lighted corridor to a reception area. A man sitting in a chair reading a newspaper hastily got rid of the paper and began to stand up. Jimmy stepped over and put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down into the chair. A secretary behind a large desk half-rose from her place but sank down again when Foo pointed a warning finger at her. Peter opened a large oak door and walked into Eddie Leung’s expansive office. Jimmy followed him in, closing the door behind them, while Foo and Sheng remained in the outer office to ensure there would be no interruptions.

Eddie was on the telephone with his back to the room, staring out the large window behind his desk. He turned around, frowning, and abruptly hung up the phone without saying goodbye. He made a quick movement with his hand that Peter answered, ritualistic gestures that acknowledged their mutual membership in the society and also indicated an understanding of their relative status within the society, authority on Peter’s part and deference on Eddie Leung’s part.

He reached for the telephone again. “Please, let me call for refreshments. Will you have tea?”

“
No.”

Eddie quickly replaced the phone and put his hands flat on the desk in front of him where they would stay out of trouble. “I’m honored by your visit. What can I do for you?”

Peter sat down in a comfortable armchair positioned at a corner of Eddie’s desk and crossed his legs. He steepled his fingers and tipped them toward Eddie.

“
You manage to keep informed about various events that affect your brothers?”

Eddie glanced nervously at Jimmy Yung, lounging against the closed door. It was a difficult question for him to answer, because it implied an acknowledgment that Eddie was a leper within the society, avoided by most members. He wasn’t sure if he would be betraying someone by admitting that he had talked to them. Finally he swallowed and nodded.

“
Yes, I manage to pick up things here and there. I have lunch now and then with Harry Chung. He fills me in on what’s happening.”

Peter nodded. Harry Chung was a chinless weakling who operated a fleet of tour buses. When called upon, he transported family members who had illegally entered the country to their loved ones in other cities in the region.

“
Maybe you’ve heard rumors from Hong Kong about someone causing trouble.”

Eddie shook his head wordlessly.

Peter slowly stood up. He withdrew a Mont Blanc pen from his inside jacket pocket and, reaching out, gently took hold of Eddie’s left wrist. Pulling it to him, he brushed open Eddie’s hand and drew the symbols for the number 25 on Eddie’s moist palm. It signified “traitor.” Then he gently folded Eddie’s hand into a fist and put it down on the desk.

“
I’m looking for that person,” Peter said, resuming his seat and crossing his legs again. “I expect all brothers to help me in this search.”

“
I don’t really know anyone, uh, like this.”

“
Business is going well?”

Eddie blinked, confused by the change of subject. “Not bad. Can’t complain. Actually, it could be a lot better. The economy being what it is these days.”

Peter made a face. “I don’t mean this,” waving a hand over his shoulder toward the electronics store, “I mean the business on River Street.”

“
Oh. Oh!” Eddie leaned back in his big leather chair. “That! Yes, going very well. You should see the credit cards we’re turning out these days. Absolutely perfect!”

“
I’ve seen them,” Peter said. “Your son looks after things down there.”

“
Tommy? Yes, he does.”

“
Has he reported any problems I should look into for you?”

Eddie shook his head vigorously. “No, no. Nothing at all. Everything’s fine.”

“
No outsiders trying to shake him down or move him out?”

“
No, that’s all fine. I have security people down there to look after that sort of thing if it happens but it hasn’t, believe me.”

“
No inquiries from the police?”

Eddie looked shocked. “Not at all. It’s very quiet.”

“
No outsiders bothering him?”

“
Not at all.”

“
You’re confident he’s passing on to you everything that’s coming in?”

Eddie looked blank for a moment until he understood what Peter was driving at. Horror swept across his face. “Yes, of course, absolutely! Tommy’s a wonderful boy, completely trustworthy.”

“
I’m going down there this afternoon. Will he be there?”

“
Uh,” Eddie looked at his watch, “he should be.”

Peter moved his thumb fractionally in the direction of the telephone on Eddie’s desk. “Call him and tell him to wait for me. I want to make sure everything’s all right.”

“
He’ll be there,” Eddie promised. “And thank you. Tommy will be glad to know you’re keeping an eye on things to make sure no one tries to fuck with us.”

Peter raised an eyebrow and stood up. Either Eddie Leung was a complete fool, or he had a reserve of courage somewhere inside that would prompt him to say such a thing in the face of complete disaster. As it was, Eddie’s son Tommy had two choices before him. He could run, in which case Eddie’s businesses would be taken away from him and given to someone else and Eddie would end up in several plastic bags at the municipal dump. Alternatively Tommy could stay and deal with Peter, in which case Tommy might end up in several garbage bags. Either way, the Leung family was in deep, deep trouble.

The warehouse complex owned by Eddie Leung was surrounded by high chain link fences. Karen pulled up at the gate and lowered her window. After a moment the sash slid back in the guard booth and a face stared down at them.

“
This place closed to all visitors,” the guard said in a heavy accent. “Leave immediately.”

Karen held up her badge. “We’re here to see Tommy Leung.”

“
Mr. Leung not here. Leave now.”

“
Funny man.” Karen clipped the badge back on her belt. “Open the gate and we’ll have a look for ourselves.”

“
Not without warrant. This private property.”

Karen glanced over at Hank. “They’re well trained, anyway.” She turned back to the guard. “Call Leung and tell him we’re here to see him.”

“
Mr. Leung not here.”

Hank got out of the car and walked up to the little window in the booth. He noticed a security camera perched above the booth and assumed it was real. He stared at the man sitting inside and then nodded.

“
I know you. I’ve seen your face before. You’re wanted on a federal warrant. Step out of the booth right now.”

“
You fucking nuts.”

“
What’s your name?” Hank challenged, moving his jacket to one side to expose his gun.

“
Got no name. Get lost.”

Hank turned his head slightly. “Detective, call it in. We’ve got the fugitive William Lee Fung here. Call for backup and call the Feds. Might as well call the TV station to send a truck down here, we’ll get on the ten o’clock news for sure with this one. This is big.”

“
Right, Lieutenant,” Karen said, reaching for the radio.

The man in the booth couldn’t see past Hank to know for certain whether or not Karen was actually calling it in. “TV?”

“
You bet. This warehouse will be seen on every TV from here to Canada. The Leungs are going to be really pissed.”

Panic flickered across his face. “Wait, you wrong. Not William Fung. Got green card right here.”

He started to reach for his wallet but Hank stopped him with a raised hand. “Hold it. No fast moves.”

“
No calling.”

“
Get Tommy Leung down here right now.”

“
Okay, tell her no calling.”

“
Wait for a moment, Detective,” Hank said over his shoulder.

“
All right, Lieutenant,” Karen sang out dutifully.

Hank pointed. “Get him down here. Now.”

The guard picked up a push-to-talk mobile phone and spoke briefly in Cantonese. There was a reply and the guard nodded to Hank. “Be here soon.”

“
He better be. I hate waiting.”