

RETURN OF THE JACK

By

Pringle McCloy

Smashwords Edition

Copyright

Canadian Intellectual Property Office

Innovation, Science and Economic Development Canada

Title: Return of the Jack

Category: Literary

Registration Number: 1019728

April, 2004

# Prologue

JILLIAN'S WEDDING DAY BEGAN quietly, so quietly I had too much time to think. _'Here I go again. Why not me? I'm as good looking as Marco, possibly better. And like Marco-the-Shiesty I'm at the top of my game, although mine is somewhat legal and his flagrant ability to bend the law is not. That's why she likes him, I figure. She likes the fact that he's on the same rung of the criminal ladder as her dad, Jack, who is like a dad to me too, since he raised me as his surrogate son. Doesn't matter, since it's all Marco now. It's Marco this and Marco that. Marco is now Jack's Marco and Jillian's too and I'm just plain old Hampton, the invisible PI. I'm Hamster to Jack, though. I'll always be his Hamster, a guy he can manipulate and boss. It's like that when he got you as a pup and brainwashed you.'_

So, there I was, standing at the church doors watching the parade of collector cars arrive. Jack's gang was cruising in led by Sharp-dressed Tony, Skid the Mark, Bookie Billy and various other thugs. Soon they'd take their places alongside Jack's West Van cronies, a few feathery hookers, and a handful of crooked cops with no better place to be. Not to forget Jack's sister, Julia, the deadliest woman in town. A woman of intrepid intellect, Julia was built like a willow tree, tall and sweeping, with keen hazel eyes and sleek dark hair that went twisting into a knot. Typically, Julia wore taupe.

It should have been me standing at the altar, I was thinking, although I'd already been through that shit-show and it didn't end well. Especially after Jack told his daughter a pack of lies about me at the wedding reception. But what lies? I wasn't about to hear them from Jillian while in the process of ripping off her wedding dress and screaming,

"I can't believe I've been so stupid! Shame on me! I felt sorry for you, you loser! I felt sorry that you got yourself shot rescuing Jack. He is my father, after all." Her round hazel eyes blazed as she tossed back her long blond curls. "But you're not worth it. You're not worth one iota of my time." With that she stormed out the door.

Great. So much for Tahiti. I thanked Jillian's back for her precious time but she didn't even turn around. I had a deep gut feeling that my ex-wife was going to present her back to me for the rest of her life. But I wasn't finished yet. There was a wedding to bust up and any second now little Jackie Chan would come racing into the church hollering 'Bomb!' The two of us had business to finish and this time we weren't going to fail.
EARLIER THAT YEAR

# Chapter One

I COULDN'T EVEN HATE THE guy. Even as I sat across from Jack in his Vancouver warehouse office, listening to his lies, I loved him. I loved his big soft, sandy curls and the bushy mustache always needing a trim. I loved his round green eyes, exacting eyes, like he'd been counting money but was a few grand short. He had an innocent look in his repertoire that he summoned up when he wanted you to feel sorry for him, especially when he'd been bad. I waited.

Trish the Terrible, Jack's assistant, arrived with the morning coffee slop. Lesser men never drank it but Jack and I were tough. Trish was a looker. She wore her auburn hair long, her eyes blue-green, and her freckles splashed like paint droppings across her nose.

"Your special coffee, Charlie!" she announced with an evil grin. "I put a little booze in it. You know, since Jillian dumped you and all. I thought it might cheer you up." She laughed too loudly and too long. Oh, and did I mention that Trish was mean? She was meaner than a wolverine scaring up breakfast and was the one person in the world Jack was actually scared of. He often hid from Trish, like under his desk or in the warehouse, just to avoid her abuse.

So, Jack started out by saying, "Hamster. You're too good for Jillian. She's just a wacky activist and you're meant for bigger things than rounding her up from protests and bringing her home."

I didn't immediately respond. Jack adored Jillian and wasn't going to change my mind on that. "Next?" I finally said.

"It took me years to corrupt you. She would only undo all of that. She'd have you going to church and possibly singing in the choir."

I nodded. Jillian had never been inside a church. Oops! Other than for a few of her own weddings. "I'm a good singer," I mumbled.

Jack sat back in his chair. "It's like this." He tossed a pencil into the air. "I'm going to need you for a covert operation. Much bigger than anybody knows. And I can't have you weakened by non-stop sex. You know what happened to Sampson."

I knew. It wasn't about Dalila cutting his hair. I'd read the Bible a lot while waiting for Tina to wake up from her coma after she took a bullet meant for me. I could maybe even pass for Moses now. "So?"

He pawed his fingers through his thick curls. "It's about your new brother in Beijing. Mini Chin hasn't given up on him for offing her baby and she's well connected there. Rumor is, she's going to go after my boy."

I was excited enough to yawn. Yes, Richard had offed Bugs Zee, or rather, his goon had. Triad wars were like that. And Bugs Zee's mistake? He looked too much like his brother, Reynolds, the intended target. "Your new boy, you mean. Your new fun boy. Richard _the Clever_ with his fun gang. Hmm. Let me see." I scratched my chin as all great thinkers do. "King Kong Chin, _the Butcher,_ nice guy. Fat Freddie Fong, the narcoleptic, who apparently slept through the murder of his own grandmother, possibly because he had her killed. And then there's sweet Shorty Poo, the little bad guy. Isn't this the dwarf who brags about his recipe for testicles in a pan? He's a gourmet cook, they say, and apparently after chopping the balls off his captives he likes to enjoy a good meal. He's a prince. Can't wait to meet up with Richard's dudes again."

Jack tossed me the glare. "I don't know what's happened to you, Hamster. You used to be a lot more fun."

Jack's house in British Properties perched on the mountainside, four stories deep. Sprawling behind lush hedges the concrete fortress hosted thick black doors and a garage for his collection of antique cars, including a Talbot Lagos worth several million bucks. On weekends, Tony Chan – Jack's fake chauffeur and actual Triad boss – liked to take the relic for a spin, typically to Chinatown to show off. A highly-polished guy, old age was pushing Tony and Tony was pushing back. No one, or no one thing, messed with the godfather.

So, once again, I was about to stick a hot poker in my eye. Apparently, I hadn't had enough of Jack's torture and was about to attend one of his Sunday parties. And I know what you're going to say. I deserved better. I did. I absolutely did. But I didn't know better and the Joneses were the only family I knew. Shoeshine Fatso met me at the door.

"Got any weapons, Charlie?" he boomed. Shoeshine was a large, handsome man, a Jackie Gleason type with curly dark hair held in place by gel. His glossy brown eyes looked me up and down.

"Just the usual. One in my holster and one in my sock."

He smiled. "Don't be a smartass. We may need your firepower later on. There's so many crooked cops in that room there might be a shootout later on. When everyone gets drunk. They don't trust each other."

My turn to smile. I could smell money. Old money and new money. Travel money, freshly laundered and about to leave on a journey to Switzerland or The Caymans or The British Virgin Islands. But there was lazy money too, content to relax beneath the floorboards under our feet. I was home. Although I'd owned my own condo for over fifteen years this old mausoleum was home.

David in the alcove wasn't happy to see me, though. The statue had never liked me. Not since I was a kid and used to hang my skates and scarf on his knob. He couldn't fight me, you see, so he just started to sway whenever he saw me coming, threatening to fall over and crush my bones. "Get over it, David," I said in a loud voice.

Shoeshine giggled. "Hope you know he isn't real, Charlie."

I squinted. "Not to you, maybe. He wouldn't dare mess with you." Shoeshine carried a big gun. And he threatened me with it all the time. "But he hates me. Behind your back he's making faces. And flexing his muscle."

Shoeshine shoved me into the living room. "Go find Willy. He's better looking than David here and he actually bleeds."

Bodies were packed into the living room like a barrel of sausages and the noise level could rival a sonic boom. It was a room of white leather sofas, animal print chairs, and Moroccan treasures placed here and there. Leafy palm trees, too, flanking a wall of windows affording a panorama of the city and ocean below. Oh, and it had thugs. A lot of thugs prone to drinking free booze on Jack, bragging about something, fighting over nothing, and often being evicted by Shoeshine by the scruff of the neck.

Peter Selic was standing with a group of his fellow crooked cops. Tall and Nordic looking, he ploughed his fingers through his thick blond hair. He was Versace from head to toe.

"Hampton! You're still alive! We thought maybe you'd done yourself in."

Ok. Maybe I did take a couple of weeks to drink and lick my wounds. I was entitled to a pity party. I excelled at this type of behavior, in fact. "Don't tell me that you're still married, Selic. Julia can't be that desperate."

He grinned. "We never were married, Charlie. Jack wasn't going to let that happen. He just picked up a bum on the Tahiti beach to perform the ceremony and paid him off. You and Jillian weren't married either. You mean Jack didn't tell you?"

I bit my tongue. "No. Jack neglected to tell me that little detail. It explains things, though. I've been expecting annulment papers to arrive. No need, it now seems."

The cadre of crooked cops cracked up. "Jack is still playing you like a fiddle," a short stocky, smart-mouth said. "He must lie awake nights planning his next puppeteer move."

Laughter followed my back as I headed for the bar where someone elbowed me in the ribs.

"Make mine big. And don't be so skimpy this time."

I turned to face my albatross. My surrogate dad. "Hope you like arsenic."

He snickered. "I'm arsenic-proof. You should know that by now since you've tried that shit before."

I handed him his poison. "Willy is here?"

"He is. He's in the library on his laptop steeling things. You know Willy. Booze isn't his thing and since his IQ is six times greater than anyone's in this room he gets bored with small talk. But he's also connecting. He made a lot of contacts when he was in Beijing on the lamb."

Just then the lovely Julia, draped in taupe, arrived on the scene. After kissing me on both cheeks she put her arm around my waist and widened her round hazel eyes. "I can't believe you're going off to Beijing, Charlie!"

I choked on my booze. "I am?"

"You're just being silly. Of course, you are! You and Willy."

"When am I going?" I asked stupidly.

She looked at Jack. "I think it's tonight. Right, Jack?"

He nodded. "That's why I asked about your passport, Hamster. You and Willy are leaving on the Red Eye tonight."

# Chapter Two

IN THE BOARDING LOUNGE AT _Vancouver International_ I was just nodding off when I felt a sharp pain on my shin. Someone had kicked me with a steel-toed boot. Hard.

Willy Chan shook his shiny dark, shoulder-length hair. "Hampton! You're going to miss the plane. They're calling your name, you idiot. You've been sleeping for over an hour." Immaculate in his designer threads and highly polished shoes, 'slick' Willy Chan oozed class. His speckled brown eyes sparkled with trouble while his white teeth glistened when he smiled. And Willy had a lot to smile about, such as millions salted away and real estate holdings worth keeping quiet about. It was like that when you worked for the Triad and, as a double agent, you also worked for Jack. "You can sleep on the plane, bud. We're going first class with sleepers so you can stretch right out. Even put your jammies on."

I gathered up my things. "You mean you're not going to bug me with details?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you'll be bugging me all night long."

He giggled. "You're right about that. We have a lot to prepare for."

Half-an-hour into the trip, Willy started to chirp. "You'd sleep forever if I let you. We have a little homework to do." After that he started to show off, treating me like a tourist. "You might as well learn this first. Wo bu xi haun. Very important. Repeat that now."

"No. Not going to. Going to sleep."

"You'll be dead a long time then. Now repeat after me, wo bu xi haun."

I sat up and stretched. And I tried my half-best.

Willy howled. "You're pathetic, bud! That language doesn't exist."

"Tell me what it means. Maybe I'll do better if I know what it means. And why it's important."

"It means, 'I don't like it.' You'll be saying that a lot, trust me. Especially when offered Douzhi."

"Which is?"

"Stinky bowl. Fermented green bean soup. It smells like dirty socks."

"Can't wait."

"Oh, yes. You can. Now try this. Wo ai Beijing."

I tried.

"Well, if nothing else you'll make people smile. Most Chinese are friendly where we're going and will want to help even if they can't understand you. How are you at pointing?"

I gave him the finger.

"Not good. It means the same there. And they're good with cleavers."

He reached into his backpack and fished out a package of masks. "Smog is bad in Beijing. On certain days old folks and children are advised to stay indoors. But since you're neither you'll manage. Just keep one of these in your pocket in case you start to wheeze." I raised an eyebrow so he continued. "Sometimes you can cut the smog with a knife."

"You're talking a lot about knives, Willy. Do I need to buy a machete?"

He smiled. "You could but they're cumbersome and will only slow you down." He snatched a book from his backpack and threw it on my lap. "It's the best I could do on short notice. It's a tour guide in case we get separated and you want to see the sights."

"Well, that would be damn nice. I'm sure I'll have time to do all that after locating Richard and his goons and keeping them safe. Ironic, isn't it? Since I'm the one that won't be safe in Beijing."

He ignored me. "Beijing is a cultural city steeped in tradition, dating back three thousand years, as far as the Xia Dynasty. But I guess I don't have to tell you about ancient artifacts, given your find in Richard's heroin shipment. That ought to have taught you something."

"It did. It taught me that people I thought were friends weren't. That friends you trust can steal from you. That those friends get rich while you become a bitter drunk because you've been robbed blind, whatever that means." I yawned.

Open door for the Mensa genius. "Robbed blind is thought to have come from early 20th century student slang. It means 'completely, totally'. It means 'to take absolutely everything from someone'."

"You did."

"Correction. Jack did."

"You got your cut. You and your fellow computer-hacking savant, Reynolds _the Wrap_. And what did I get? Sweet fuck all."

"Awe, Hampton. You're going to get it all in the end anyway. You and Jillian. What's Jack worth? A billion?"

"Doesn't matter. He'll outlive me."

"Stop whining and get into the game. Get focused. We've got a head start because Kow Gong has tracked Richard down. We're to meet his man tonight at the NCPA. The Big Egg." Huge smile. "Guess he knows how much you like opera."

"I love opera. More than a cat wedding and more than fingernails scraping on a blackboard. Your Uncle Tony knows that. He also knows that in every one of those horrid operas somebody dies."

"Not in Chinese opera. In Chinese opera everybody dies. Big difference."

We finally shared a laugh.

About Tony Chan. Tony had raised Jack and hadn't done such a terrific job, since Jack turned out a criminal. He raised me too and did a little worse, without even trying. Tormenting me was what Tony turned to and he excelled in that department. He was still at it, in fact.

"So, we're meeting Richard's man tonight. Is there anything we should know about this man?"

"He's Richard's cousin. Richard was adopted remember, and while he's an only child there's a large family network in Beijing. Some legal, others not so much. Triad stuff, mostly. Drugs. Illegal gambling, the usual. While not the size of 14K Triad they're not to be messed with. Loan-sharking and money laundering too. Well, you know a lot about the latter, Hampton, being close to someone we both know and love."

"Speak for yourself," I barked. "I'm not exactly thrilled about this mission. I hate Richard Chang. And he hates me."

Willy screwed up his face. "Take the personal shit out of it. It's a job. Period. I doubt you'd be paid this kind of money chasing adulterers."

"I've only ever chased one. And it was so sad I tore up the cheque. But if I had a choice right now I'd chase another one, just on a safety basis. I have a bad feeling about this one."

He nodded. "Your new brother has trampled a lot of toes. Triad toes. Beijing toes and Shanghai toes too. And don't rule out Hong Kong. Mini Chin is not his only enemy. Not by a long shot."

"Great. What's this cousin's name?"

"Zu."

"Zu who?"

"I don't know. They just call him Gap-tooth Zu."

"Are they metal? His teeth? Can he rip the head off a shark?"

He squinted at me. "I hadn't thought much about it. You're strange, bud. Really strange"

"And the purpose of our meeting?"

"He'll take us to Richard's hideaway."

"Yup. And we'll be blindfolded too."

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that we'll be seeing Richard tonight."

"And the guarantee?"

"Kow Gong. No one in their right mind will mess with him."

"What, no blindfold?" I said to Willy who was seated beside me in the wide back seat. We were in the country now with the lights of the city a mere haze in the distance. In the front seat, Gap-tooth Zu was arguing with the driver in Chinese.

I shrugged. "What's he saying?"

"He's saying to speed up. That we haven't got all day. Even though it's night."

The squinty driver was studying me in the rearview mirror and babbling back to Zu.

"What's he saying?"

Willy smiled. "He's saying that he doesn't trust the round-eye. Doesn't like him. That maybe he should pull over and push him out the door."

"Nice. What's Zu saying?"

"That he doesn't like you either. That you're a pantu. A traitor."

"Nice. Welcome to Beijing, Charlie. Didn't I tell you that I'm the one they'll be after?"

Willy giggled. "Relax! They're just arguing over salary. Zu's three hours in arrears and that's bad in this country. You don't pay late."

"So, it isn't about me?"

"No. Not about you. Although that might bruise your ego a bit." He started to laugh. "This is going to be so much fun, round-eye! I can tell you absolutely anything and you'll believe it."

I punched my best friend since age ten on the head.

Picture a fortress surrounded by small mountains, a forest, and a litany of armed guards with serious dogs. It was a Richard fortress, all right. I knew it the moment he sauntered down the wide dramatic staircase to greet us in the foyer.

"Charlie, old boy! How clever of you to find me." Oxford educated Richard spoke like the queen. He held out his hand so I shook it. We were kind of related, after all, Jack being his biological father and my surrogate dad. We ought to have liked each other better. Maybe the fact that he'd kidnapped me, and tried to have me killed, left a bad taste in my mouth. Or maybe I was jealous. I wasn't quite sure. He was a handsome devil, no doubt about it. Jaw-dropping, even, with his chiseled Asian features and the sharp eyes of a falcon. Hazel eyes. The same color as Jillian's. (That should have been someone's clue in the last story.) And he was tall, like Jack, although not quite six-feet four. There was a reason Richard had risen to the top of the Triad ladder by age thirty-three. Balls. Balls of steel and a heart to match.

"Willy found you," I corrected but Willy started to walk away. "I'm going to hang out with the boys. King, Freddie and Shorty will no doubt be having fun." He had his back to us but his shoulders were shaking he was laughing so hard. Yup. Those boys were about as much fun as a toothache.

Damn Willy. He was leaving me to contend with a narcissist. But then, so was I. Stalemate?

Richard led me to a library of myriad shelves with myriad books, few of them in my language. In mean, _War and Peace_ in Chinese? Two cushy leather armchairs flanked a crackling fire and he pointed to one of them. "Whisky, I presume?"

I nodded. "Jack says hello."

Red crept into his cheeks. "Quite right." He poured two tumblers of booze, one scotch, one whisky. With that ceremony over we settled in to banter.

I raised my glass. "Cheers, Richard! You forgot to say good-bye. That wasn't very nice."

He shifted in his chair. "I thought we might start off on a friendlier note, Charlie."

"Such as?"

"Our collaboration."

I couldn't remember this collaboration. "Really? On what?"

"Our war against Reynolds Woo. And Mini, of course."

"Pardon my confusion but I thought Reynolds and Mini were after you."

"The best defense is a good offense. Surely you're familiar with that old expression."

"I am. But I still don't understand how that includes me."

"You're a surveillance expert, are you not?"

I screwed up my face. "They say I'm pretty good."

"When you don't get all goofy, you're the best, they say. I'll make it worth your while to not get goofy. To not assume this is some sort of game because it isn't. I need to get them before they get me." He narrowed his eyes. "We have the best electronics in the world here. The most sophisticated. You'll have the latest in high tech, guaranteed."

That I understood. I just needed to think things through. I didn't want to work for Richard. I didn't want to set up surveillance and spy on Reynolds and Mini again. I'd seen enough of them in the past. And I'd watched Bugs Zee getting blown away first hand. I'd seen enough to make me sick. On the other hand, Jack sent me to Beijing on a mission and I didn't need to fail. He punished me enough. "Do you know where Reynolds and Mini are?"

"We know they're in Beijing. Where exactly, we don't know. That's where Willy comes in. He knows how to contact Reynolds. They've been in cahoots for years. They're partners in crime, if you'll excuse the expression."

He was right about that. Reynolds and Willy had attended the same school in Chinatown. Their mother's played mahjong together on Saturday nights and had for thirty-some years. There were few computer-hacking-savants on the planet like those two crooks and both had once worked for Richard. Apparently, Willy still did.

"So, Willy knew the plan, then?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"No. He forgot to mention that little detail. And I can't imagine why. Maybe it's because he likes to surprise me. You know, so I'll have more fun that way. He likes it when I shit my pants."

Richard finally laughed, a rarity. "So, do we have a deal?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'll just say that I don't give a fuck and go home."

He leaned back in his chair. "I wouldn't advise you to do that, Charlie. You're in my territory, remember, and the wrong move may not be pleasant for you. You're a smart guy but there's a lot you don't know. There's a lot I don't know either. Now here's what I suggest. I suggest that we find things out together."

Long pause.

Richard took my silence badly. "It would be best for Willy's sake. That's why you should give a fuck."

Oh, great. He was using Willy as bait, and not for the first time. "Tony Chan will not be happy if anything happens to his nephew."

"Tony Chan is old. He's not so powerful anymore. He can also be moved out of the way if need be. And as for Jack, well. I'm worried about Jack. Jack has stuck his nose in where it doesn't belong."

Jeez! Was there no end to this horror story? "He is your father, Richard."

His cold hazel eyes frosted over. "In theory only. He means nothing to me otherwise."

Just then the troops marched in: King Kong Chin, the butcher; Fat Freddie Fong, the narcoleptic; and sweet Shorty Poo, the little terrorist. Willy served as caboose. They lined up like bowling pins in front of the bar.

"You remember my team, don't you, Charlie?"

I did. I especially remembered Shorty putting a gun to my head. "Goons," I said politely.

They bowed.

Richard groaned. "You're not funny."

"Doesn't matter what you think. They think I'm nice. Hey, Shorty!" I chimed in a happy voice. "How are you, you fucking ugly pig?"

He grinned from ear to ear.

"See? Shorty likes me. And he likely wouldn't have tried to kill me if you hadn't paid him to."

Richard's steel stare might have shattered the chandelier. He spoke to his goons in Chinese before turning to me. "I just told them that you and I were about to collaborate on a very important project. One that would make Willy very happy."

With that I collected Willy and we hurried out the door.

On the ride back to the city I decided there was something about Richard's cousin that I didn't particularly like. And it wasn't about his teeth. It was about a feeling. Gap-tooth Zu gave me the creeps.

# Chapter Three

WILLY KEPT A LOT OF SECRETS, the most important being that he knew where Reynolds and Mini were staying. It was a secret he was going to keep from Richard as long as he could. He also thought we had a few days 'buying time' while we set up shop in a swank hotel near _The Forbidden City._ Since Willy knew Reynolds' inside guards well – having gone to school with both in Vancouver's Chinatown – it didn't take much to bribe them into planting the cameras and microphones in the main area of his suite, especially when told it was for their boss's protection. They viewed Willy as Reynolds' partner in certain things since they'd partnered in the past. Hush was the word. And the extra cash would not be mentioned either.

During the process of setting up in my suite, Willy treated me as a tourist, one that likely wasn't going to see the sights since I had to stay indoors. Nice. I was given a _You_ _Tube_ presentation on Willy's MacBook, with Willy chiming in. Lovely.

"You wouldn't like _The Forbidden City_ , Hampton. Too many people."

"I like people."

"No, you don't. You make fun of almost everyone."

"That doesn't mean I don't like them."

"Could have fooled me. Anyway, this is _Hall of Supreme Harmony._ Shut up and listen."

Soon I was to learn that _The Forbidden City_ was the largest palatial complex in the world, composed of 10,000 rooms; that Chinese dragons were playful – since they were everywhere, as sculptures or ornate carvings or painted – and that emperors were considered gods and were not monogamous. Although the emperor had many wives, consults and concubines, he lived alone is his own palace.

"Smart man," I managed to cut in.

"The Empress had her own palace too," Willy sniped. "And the reason the emperor had copious women is that he needed to produce as many male heirs as possible. So his dragon throne wouldn't be taken away. A bit chauvinistic but nevertheless a part of history. Women were objects. They had separate quarters from the men, their own palaces where they raised the children with the help of uniks."

"I understand. Uniks wouldn't be much of a threat to the emperor."

"No competition, you're right. And you'll like this one, Hampton. The emperor got to choose his date for the night. She'd be brought to his bed naked. Not for erotic purposes but to make sure she wasn't carrying a concealed weapon."

"I'm starting to like the emperor now."

"Twenty-four emperors in total lived there over the centuries. With their families. And uniks. Uniks were plentiful back then."

"Why? Isn't a unik a castrated male?"

"You got it. And only uniks were allowed in the emperor's inner chamber, unless invited in by the emperor. Thus, _The Forbidden City._ They served in various roles as servants. Some volunteered to be castrated, if you can imagine. If they survived the surgery they had a better life than extreme poverty. Other boys were sold by parents needing the money. There were criminals, too, as castration was a form of punishment." He flashed the Willy white teeth. "Want to be a unik, Hampton?"

I smiled back. "There are some women who'd like that, guaranteed. Too many, as a matter of fact." I neglected to tell Willy that I planned to tour _The Forbidden City_ in person. On foot. I didn't come this far to be shut out.

Once set up, Willy made his exit. "There are six restaurants in the hotel, bud. You won't go hungry."

"And you are going where?"

"Top secret. I'll keep in touch by text. You won't see me for a few days but you've likely seen enough of me now to last a lifetime. Since you don't like people."

I slugged him on the arm. "You're an idiot. But stay safe. You I actually like."

So back to spying on my other family, Reynolds _the Wrap_ and his horrid mom, Mini Chin. Wasn't I just there in that rat-infested apartment days ago? Weeks ago? So, maybe it was a month ago but it seemed like yesterday. I could still hear the animals scurrying around in the walls and the sirens wailing and I could see the stretcher arriving to take Bugs Zee away. I could hear Mini screaming and Reynolds crying and the fiasco at the hospital where Mini had to pull the plug on her favorite son. Her baby. And then Willy and I had to save Jack and Jackie Chan, whom you're going to meet in a while. But not yet. To be colloquial, the shit was about to hit the fan.

And there he sat, the little criminal, bouncing back and forth between computers, a virtual B and E artist at the top of his game. Reynolds hadn't changed much. He was still tiny. Hands tinier than Reynolds' came only on Ken dolls or baby chimps. Little wire-rimmed glasses rested near the tip of his nose as his piercing brown eyes searched the web for something to steal. Reynolds liked to steal. Artifacts. Drug shipments. Elections. The little crook could throw a wrench into almost anything. And yes, I'd forgotten the kippah that he wore wrongly on the front of his head, his bristly dark hair springing out from the sides.

Mini Chin came clicking her little red shoes into the room where she headed straight for the bar. In no time at all she destroyed two doubles without a single belch. Glenfiddich, her favorite. She smacked her lips. "Wen Wen."

"Yes Mama?"

"Mama who?"

"Mama Mia."

"I shouldn't have to ask. You have no common sense, Wen. None at all."

He didn't, actually. With an IQ of 310 he simply didn't have room.

Mini Chin was built like a brick, sturdy and indestructible. The vertically-challenged individual had three chins and wore more gold chains than Mr. T, enough to topple her in a windstorm. "The A Team wants to attack. They say that sitting on this thing will make matters worse. That the element of surprise is now." A third double scotch was not out of the question so she headed back to the bar. I swear the woman had a hollow chin.

"You know what's best, Mama Mia."

"Of course, I do! I'm the brains in this family. If we relied on you we'd all be six-feet under."

He nodded. She was still blaming him for Bugs Zee's demise and things weren't about to improve.

I could see Lugs Nut, an inside guard, in the foyer. He was pacing and nodding. Let's get it done, he implied. Easy for him, I thought. Storming the Bastille was easier before AK 47s. And a hundred serious dogs. To my knowledge the A Team was comprised of eight highly-trained snipers whom Tony Chan had described as slinky black cats, after they chained him to a chair and kidnapped Jack from his warehouse, along with Jackie Chan. But for the record, it could be done. Those slinky black cats could appear out of nowhere, undetected. Things were about to ignite.

"I'm not saying when, Wen Wen. It could be tonight or it could be a week from tonight. With traitors in our midst we can't be too careful. I'm just not sure about Albert. He may be an informer."

At that point I fell off my chair laughing, since the nimble stockbroker had been the only one to rush with towels to Bugs Zee's head after the hit. Now Albert Noe was a traitor? Then, what exactly was he doing in a back room of this hotel trading blue chip stocks? With traitors like that I wanted one for myself.

Mini turned towards her rooms at the back of the main suite but suddenly put on the brakes. "I've told you about that silly hat, haven't I, Wen?"

"Yes, Mama Mia."

"I've told you that the Jewish can be very hostile when mimicked."

"I wasn't going to wear it outside, Mama Mia. Because I don't go outside. Almost never. We came here in a private plane remember. In the middle of the night."

Mini whirled around. "Why are you telling me things I already know? You're driving me to drink." With that she headed back to the bar.

I had a weird dream that night. It was the food, I swear. In this dream I was eating stinky mush bowl, which turned into socks. I was a prisoner and was told by men with guns to eat the damn socks. I thought I could, since I don't give up easily, but couldn't even eat a bite. 'You burned those socks," I accused one of the guards. 'And you expect me to eat them now? I don't eat burnt socks.' He had a long knife. It was a sword, I think, so I said, 'You're not Japanese. You're not a Samurai so put that thing away. You're only going to hurt yourself.' He disappeared then and I woke up in a cold sweat. My cell was ringing. It was Willy, likely trying to annoy me again.

"You're not going to believe this, Hampton. But Richard Chang is dead."

# Chapter Four

IT'S NOT A FUN PLACE to meet, the morgue. I try to avoid it at all cost but sometimes it has to be done. Like the day Richard died, for instance, I made every excuse in the book not to go. I couldn't leave Reynolds and Mini now, I told Willy, or I may miss something unimportant. And I needed to contact Tony to get a list of who might want him dead. Take the goons with you, I said. It could mean closure for them.

Willy wasn't buying any of it. "They've had plenty of closure. And if I have to go you have to go. His boys are a mess. They're howling like banshees, especially King who found him dead. It was pretty bad, Hampton. I'll meet you there in an hour."

And it was pretty bad. He'd been tied up, beaten and mutilated. But it was Richard, alright. I didn't need to see all of him to recognize the man. While his features had been distorted, presumably by knives, I recognized the precise manicure, the signature haircut, the brilliant Tolkowsky diamond in his left ear. My stomach retched.

Willy could not have been whiter had he swallowed bleach. "Poor bastard! What a way to go."

I didn't say anything. You see, Richard had a history of torturing his victims and the thought running through my head was, well, sadly he got his own. I still felt sorry for him though. Sorry that such a powerful man had suffered in a cruel and violent way, given that he surrounded himself with more security than Fort Knox. No guards were taken out. No dogs. Nobody heard a thing. It didn't add up.

"I'll need to talk to his boys," I said on our way out. "They must have heard something."

Willy finally smiled. "I can picture it, actually. You talking to his boys. What language are you proposing? French?"

"You don't have to be a smartass. I assumed you'd be there too."

He shook his shiny hair. "You assume correctly. I'll be moving into the fortress for a while. The goons need a little direction now that Richard has gone. They're not great thinkers and are used to following orders. They'll need a leader."

"What about Richard's businesses? Will you run those too?"

"I know a lot about them. Likely more than anyone since I've worked for his organization for years. Richard was a micromanager and ran almost everything himself. He had his underbosses, such as Leo, whom you know from another story, but basically he didn't give them power. He made the decisions."

"King and Freddie? And Shorty?"

His eyes twinkled. "His bodyguards. And hatchet men. Other than that, they were his gophers. King was his manservant. He was in charge of Richard's clothing, his barber, his personal trainer, etc. He was also his butler and very picky when it came to choosing wine. Freddie was his assistant. Believe it or not, when Freddie can keep his eyes open he's smart. He made all Richard's appointments and kept him on time. And as for Shorty, well, Shorty is a gourmet cook. Richard never went hungry, rest assured."

Something was wrong with this picture. "I don't know, Willy. It looks like an inside job to me. What do you think?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. It's just that it wasn't. There's no more loyal dudes on the planet than those three. Do you want to talk to them now?"

"I need to be in three places at once. I can't leave Mini for long because I see her hand in things. And I need to investigate further afield because there's so much more to know."

He smiled. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yup. I'm going to need the services of your little cousin, Jackie Chan."

Later, in Richard's library, Willy poured two drinks, a whisky for me and a coke for himself. Alcohol of any kind made Willy turn all red. "I've told them to come in one at a time, Charlie. But they don't like it. They think you're going to try and trick them."

"I am. I just thought they wouldn't know. I was going to be sneaky about it."

"Treat them gently. But if you don't I'll change things in translation. They're taking this hard. Very hard."

Enter King _Kong_ Chin, the butcher. Beady-eyed, balding and anxious he said a few words to Willy who nodded. "He doesn't like you, Hampton."

"No kidding."

King rambled on vociferously.

"He says that Richard didn't like you either. And didn't trust you. And that maybe you killed him."

I tried not to laugh. "He's the suspect, not me. Tell him so sit down, please."

He did. But King preferred to stand.

"Ask him about finding Richard. Ask him about the time and circumstance and about when he saw him last."

King looked a little shaky but I assumed it was from the shock. He talked fast.

"He found him at six o'clock this morning when he delivered his breakfast. He looked dead. He saw him alive around eleven last night after the evening news. Richard went to bed and locked his door."

"How does he know that Richard locked his door?"

Willy listened to King. "Because he always locked his door. Always."

"Was it locked this morning?"

King widened his eyes.

"No, he says. It wasn't locked this morning. And Richard couldn't have unlocked it because he was dead."

"Did you kill Richard, King?"

Willy shook his head at me. "I'm not going to ask that question. We're not in a court of law."

King shot me a lethal look. "I did not kill Richard. Did not! You bad man. Very bad." With that he stormed from the room.

Willy giggled. "Well, he got that right you bad man. Very bad. Nice try, Hampton."

Fat Freddie Fong came puffing in. "I did not kill Richard. You bad man. Very bad." He huffed out.

Shorty Poo was on his heels. "Did Not!" he mustered before retreating.

Willy's eyes danced. "You satisfied now?"

I thought about it. "I know I should be but I'm not. Something isn't adding up. I'm not finished here."

Willy groaned.

Back at the hotel I tuned into the Woo suite to not much going on either. Mini was out and I could see through the open door that Albert Noe was doing his martial arts in a back room, leaving Reynolds on the Internet to steal. He was into someone's bank account transferring funds. I didn't know who kept the account or how much money he was snatching, since Chinese letters meant nothing to me. But I sensed it wasn't legit. Jackie Chan could figure this out after he arrived and since I was making a list for him, it was a good place to start. Note: _Rewind for Jackie. Whose money, how much, where was it going?_ I wouldn't have to wait long as Jack and Jackie were arriving by private jet the following day to attend Richard's funeral.

Funerals rank slightly above morgues on my list of likes. Lucky for me, I didn't have to plan one as Willy did. I just had to show up and pretend to grieve, as I suspected others did too. On a scale of nice guys, Richard _the Cleaver_ Chang would slide right off the bottom. In planning the event, however, Willy showed the proper respect, taking only marginal liberty with Chinese traditions and culture. Richard wanted to be cremated and had left a will, which Freddie produced from a safe, stating his wishes and beneficiaries. Most of his wealth was left to his mother, whom he believed to be his aunt at the time, according to the date. His three personal bodyguards were amply provided for, as well. I was unsurprisingly left nothing.

There was no mention of Jack in this will because it was drafted before Richard learned of their father and son relationship. Not that Jack needed his money. And I thought it was damn nice of him to attend the funeral, given that Richard had left Vancouver immediately after Jack got kidnapped without saying goodbye. Apparently, sentimentality wasn't his weakness. Willy decided against holding a wake, since there wasn't much to celebrate and he didn't want to try. Rather than the traditional white paper invitations, Willy emailed them, although he hired a designer to make them pretty.

Inside the temple, baskets of white flowers welcomed mourners carrying white envelopes collected by King to be placed in a white satin box. I was standing with Willy at the back of the temple waiting for Jack to arrive.

"What do you think King is going to do with that money?"

Willy giggled. "Spend it. It's collected to help pay for the funeral and he knows that it isn't needed. Not when there's millions in the will."

"What's he going to spend it on?"

"You're a pain in the ass, Hampton. How should I know?"

"You're his boss now, aren't you? You have a say in things. Maybe you should make him give it to charity."

"Right. Like that's going to happen."

Just then we heard a commotion behind us and a happy voice calling out, "Amster! I'm here. It's me. Jackie Chan!"

I turned around just in time to catch my old sidekick in my arms. "Amster! So appy!"

Jackie made me happy just by being in my life. "Wildman! Fancy meeting you here." I called him Wildman because the hair on his head stood straight as a brush and three inches high.

His round brown eyes sparkled. "Fancy? I worked for Wichard remember. Wichard would want me here today. And I pwayed tennis with Wichard too. Better than you."

"Everyone's better than me, Jackie."

"You suck, Amster."

After Jackie had moved along to talk to Willy my albatross appeared. "Hamster! I didn't know you cared that much for Richard."

"I'm liking him better now dead." Well, you had to banter with Jack. If you crossed him you may end up on crutches, possibly missing a leg. "I'm sorry for your loss, though. It must be hard to lose a son."

He thought about it. "He wasn't my son for long. No, he wisely got out of my way. Not like you, you big mutt. It won't be that easy getting rid of you." His eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Nice suit, Jack. I've never seen you in black. Other than for the tux you wear to all of Jillian's weddings."

His eyes grew wide. "Speaking of Jillian, a court date has been set. She'll be going to court in December. Marco is defending her. Lots of details to work out yet. They've been spending a lot of time together." He waited for my reaction.

"Marco can have her. She's too much trouble for me. You said so yourself. You said that I was meant for better things than running to her protests and keeping her out of jail."

"I lied. If you were meant for better things then how come Richard was killed under your watch?"

Ouch!

He moved along with the sea of penguins, leaving me to Tony Chan who was trudging up the steps on his favorite cane, black lacquer with a gold lion's head. "Well, Charlie," he began without saying hello. "You've done it this time. You've really pissed Jack off."

"I gather."

"He sent you here to save Richard, not get him killed."

"So, it's my fault then?"

"Apparently." His eyes glistened. "You should have been there in his bedroom to protect him."

I suppressed a giggle. "I assume you're trying to cheer me up?"

He smiled. "You can only take on so much blame, Charlie. Then you have to fight Jack. You know he's a bully."

"I know. But he has the upper hand because I love him more than he loves me."

"That's where you're wrong, kiddo. You are so wrong."

After Tony moved along with the crowd Willy returned. "Do you see that lovely lady over there?" He pointed to a stately Asian woman dressed in black and white. "That's Richard's mother. You remember that I tracked her down when I was here on the lamb and she gave me the pictures to take back to Vancouver. You know, when we broke up Richard and Jillian's wedding."

"You're right. She is lovely. I wonder if Jack knows she's here."

"He may be hoping. They were very much in love, as you know. Thus Richard. This will be breaking her heart. She's had a tough life, having to give up Richard for adoption and now losing him. She truly is a lovely lady."

"Well, there's a surprise," I said to Willy. "Albert Noe. Did you send him an invitation?"

"No. But I emailed one to Reynolds. As you know, Reynolds used to work for Richard, although it ended badly. I sent the invitation knowing he's agoraphobic and wouldn't come out of hiding. Mostly I sent it to confirm Richard's passing, in case he didn't know. I remember Albert from my brief partnership with Reynolds. Albert is Mini's stock broker and was there advising Mini the morning Bugs Zee bit it. But you know all this because you were spying on us. I'd almost bet that Mini sent him here today. As her spy."

"I concur. He wouldn't just come on his own. He doesn't need new clients. And to my knowledge he knew Richard only by reputation."

Willy waved to a beautiful younger woman walking in. Dressed in a tight black suit she was a hot, Asian Halley Berry.

"That's my cousin, Jada."

"She's stunning."

"It hasn't done her much good. She's been in and out of trouble most of her life. She's smart as hell though. She's a water quality scientist and works as a researcher. Well, for now. She'll be in trouble again soon. My guess is that she'll end up in jail."

"You haven't so why would she? You're not exactly legit, my friend."

"There are two kinds of crooks. I'm a smart crook. Jade has a high IQ, no doubt about it. She's just stupid. She's a stupid genius. And there's plenty of those around." He flashed the infectious Willy smile so I smiled too.

"How does she know Richard?"

"They went to school together. Here in Beijing. And they dated, I think seriously at one point in time. Then he went off to Oxford and she attended Peking University here. I don't think they saw each other after that but I can't be sure since I was in Vancouver. You know, where I live."

Sarcasm. Nice. "Is she single?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask her?"

"I will."

He snickered. "I wouldn't wish her on my worst enemy. But good luck with that. I invited her to the dinner later on."

I had that creepy feeling again and when I turned my head, Gap-tooth Zu was walking by. His balding chauffeur had apparently come along for the ride.

# Chapter Five

LATER IN THE DAY I'D attend a tribute dinner for Richard but with hours to spare I collected Jackie, and his belongings, and headed back to the hotel. I needed to see what Mini had been up to in my absence and Reynolds too. I had questions for Jackie who could read and write both Mandarin and Cantonese, on a good day. At fourth grade level. But first I had to pry him off the walls. He was jumping up and down on his bed.

"My own room!" he squealed. "With a big bed. And everything fancy. So fancy!"

Well, the two-bedroom suite was nice, actually, and posh to Jackie who shared a run-down flat in Vancouver's Chinatown with his two friends, Bob and Joe. I wondered if they'd straightened the crooked picture of Chairman Mao or added a leg to that wobbly old chair. Or even salvaged a kitchen table from an alley.

"When you're finished with the trampoline, Wildman, I have some work for you to do."

He showed me a downturned mouth. "You're no fun, Amster. We're supposed to have fun first. It's always work, work, work."

"I'm paying you to work. Not to trample beds. So, get your ass into the living room and spy."

He dragged his feet behind me. "Work, work, work," he grumbled. He plopped down in a chair. "Got any food, Amster? Dumplings, maybe?"

I had the converter on rewind. "I'll order dumplings after you tell me what Reynolds is doing in someone else's bank account. I don't understand Chinese."

He put his feet up on the ottoman. "Maybe you should order dumplings now. So I can think better."

"Maybe not. Now tell me what you see on the monitor."

"I see Weynolds. The cwook."

"He's transferring money. He's taking it from one account and putting it in another."

"I can see that, Amster. I'm not stupid."

"Whose account is he taking it from?"

"Doesn't say. Just numbers."

"And where is he putting it?"

"Same. Just numbers. Doesn't mean anything. Could even be his own accounts. Wike he needs more money in one than the other. I'll need dumplings for that." He shot me a victorious grin.

"How much money is he transferring?"

"Not a wot. Just over firty fousand yuan."

"Thirty thousand? What is that in dollars?"

"About a five fousand. A little more."

I switched off the rewind to tune in on the present. And guess what? The little thief was repeating the process. "The same accounts, Jackie?"

He nodded.

"Same amount?"

"Can't say. Can't say until I get dumplings."

I dialed room service and handed my partner the phone. "Order what you want. And you'd better eat them fast because I'm going to break your fucking neck."

He howled. "You so funny, Amster! I missed you." After hanging up the phone he said, "Same accounts. Same amount."

Soon Mini emerged from the back room and clicked her little red shoes to the bar. While pouring herself a double scotch she rapidly talked to Reynolds in Chinese.

"What's she saying?"

"She's saying that her team arrived the night Wichard got killed. But she's not taking credit. Not yet, at least."

"That night, huh? Very interesting."

Jackie seemed more than content to stay in our posh hotel suite and order room service all night long. I, on the other hand, had a dinner to attend at the posh _Grand Millennium Hotel._ More penguins. More mafia. More of the same. While Willy had invited a hundred guests, one hundred and fifty showed up. All late.

"Chinese time," he told me when I started to complain. "They come when they feel like it."

I was so thin I could see right through myself. "Appetizers?"

"At the table. You'll have more than enough to eat, rest assured. Just not before midnight."

Around nine p.m. an interesting array of invitees started to trickle in, most notably Jack, who took it upon himself to host. He stood at the door shaking hands as though he'd raised Richard or even liked him. Beside him stood Tony, lion-head cane ready, should he need to smack someone hard. King, Freddie and Shorty lined up too, grabbing hands and crying, like it was expected, although I'm being overly cruel. Those boys loved their boss and were not about to give up on his killer. In truth, I had more help than I wanted, or would ever need.

At some point, Willy rounded up his new boys and led them to a table where a bottle of scotch served as centerpiece. King poured. Full glasses clinked. The boys began to smile and to wave at me. Funny how a little booze confuses things. I waved back, although _very mad man_ had more questions in future. A lot more.

Officious Gap-tooth Zu arrived, ordering his chauffeur around by pointing a finger. "Get me this and get me that,' the finger said in Chinese. Richard's mom entered the room, escorted by two grim-faced gentlemen. She'd changed into a long black gown, accented by diamond jewelry, and was stunning. She hugged Jack long and hard before being ushered away.

Guards were everywhere. Almost everyone had a guard or possibly two. So, maybe I needed a guard, I was thinking, since they seemed to be a fixture in that part of the world. Ok. It might have been the scotch, since I'd never been able to drink the shit without getting sick, but I was thinking of stealing a guard from Willy, since he didn't need all three. The problem was I couldn't narrow things down. I mean, King? King could carve the Christmas turkey, guaranteed. Freddie? Freddie liked to kill family, his grandmother, for instance, but he wasn't about to inherit anything from me. And Shorty? Well, I'd already cooked my own goose so I didn't see the need. But they _had_ waved at me. Was it the wave of death? And just when I was going to get really goofy my chin hit my chest.

She breezed in like a fresh gulf squall, a strapless gown of black and white feathers swirling around her. She took my breath away. And I didn't even want it back I was so enthralled. I could smell the Chanel and it didn't make me dizzy. I cleared my throat. "That's the best funeral dress I've ever seen," I mumbled. "Does it come with panties?"

She twirled around for my approval. "Don't tell me, let me guess. You're Charlie! I've heard a lot about you over the years. Willy told me you were good looking but I didn't believe him. I just thought he was trying to fix me up with one of the ugly friends he owed a favor to. But you're gorgeous!"

Ok. So, I did have slick dark hair and eyes the color of a swimming pool on the sunniest summer day. Guilty. "And you would be who? Halley Berry?"

She thrust her chin in the air. "She wishes." She twirled around again. "Take that, Halley Berry. And weep." She twirled again and again, her long dark hair flying away, until I finally caught her in my arms. "Charlie? What are you doing for the rest of your life?" Her glossy brown eyes locked onto mine.

I swallowed hard. She was so damn beautiful! I guessed her to be five-foot seven, possibly eight, and I rarely took my women under five nine. But in this case. I'd make an exception. "Jada Chan. What do you want me to do?"

She giggled. "You'll find out."

Willy came by just then, presumably to make the introductions, but instead threw up his hands. "Stupid meet stupid," he spouted before walking away shaking his head.

Jada took my hand and led me to a near-by table where I hoped she was going to feed me, possibly for the rest of my life. I could hardly even walk.

Now, I'd like to tell you that I went back to my hotel that night to watch Jackie consume a luau but I'd be lying. No, I had my own plans that also included a feast, just not one with calories. Jada Chan was my natural mate. Had we been animals in the wild we would have found each other, she said. Clothes dropped just inside the door of her swank condo as we raced each other to bed. It was a long night. In the morning she rolled over to kiss me without morning breath and looked every bit as beautiful has she had the night before. I didn't get it. Girls didn't look like Jada in the morning, at least not any girl foolish enough to sleep with me.

"I'm going to write a song," I whispered in her ear. "Jada in the Morning."

She giggled. "Why?"

"Because I'm stupid."

"Are you stupidly in love? Because I am too."

End of story. Willy had been right when he said 'stupid meet stupid'. I was about to embark on a journey that would take me straight to hell.

# Chapter Six

JACKIE'S RESISTANCE WAS MOSTLY DUE to laziness. He didn't want to plant a camera and microphone in Albert Noe's office at the back of the Woo suite. He didn't think we needed to see Albert's computer screen at all.

"Abet's not a cwiminal. Abet is a nice guy."

"How do you know that?"

"Because we spied on him before. In case you forgot." He was munching a bowl of dry cereal loudly.

"I haven't forgotten, Jackie. We know he's good at martial arts but we didn't see him at work. We know very little about the man, actually. About his ethics. Maybe Mini is having him do something illegal. If so, that would be helpful to know."

"Why?"

"Just do it, Jackie. I've got a white jacket for you. You're housekeeping now. You'll go there with this nice pile of towels I lifted from a cart. You're a good actor, aren't you?"

"You know I am. I acted as a roach inspector to plant cameras to watch Wenolds before. You know that."

"I know that. I haven't forgotten. You're the best."

"How much you pay me, Amster?"

"We already agreed on a salary, Wildman."

"But this is extra. Planting cameras is extra. I have to get by Lugs Nut. He'll try to take the towels. He takes everything at the door. You know that."

"I do. You'll go at one o'clock when Albert is out for lunch. The night guard will be sleeping so Lugs will be alone. Give the towels to Lugs and say that Albert sent you. You have to get something from his desk. You'll only be a couple of minutes."

"He'll follow me."

"He won't because I'll distract him. As soon as he starts to close the door I'll knock aggressively. Lugs will peek out, rest assured. And he'll be curious about the white guy. You're Chinese so he'll trust you but he won't trust me."

"He'll recognize you. You went to see Weynolds once. About a job."

This boy was tough work. "Yes. Reynolds wanted me to spy on Richard but that's another story. That's why I have a blond wig and dark glasses." I went into my bedroom and put on my disguise.

Jackie fell off his chair laughing. "You look so funny, Amster! Too funny. He'll shoot you."

"That's a chance I'll have to take. You can't shoot a guy for looking goofy. He won't want to draw attention."

"What are you going to say?"

"That's none of your business. Just go into the back office, plant the equipment, and grab a pen. Or a pencil. He'll have something there to write with, I assume. Just don't steal anything big."

There came the downturned mouth again. "I don't wike it."

"And I should care? Why is that?"

He had to smile. "Because you wike me, Amster. Now what you pay me? I need danger pay."

"I'll write you a cheque."

"Right. No phony cheques, either. I'm going to tell Jack on you. He'll fix you."

"Alright, you get danger pay. I don't need you to threaten me with Jack."

"How much you pay me?"

"What are you worth?"

"Wots. You pay me big."

I pulled out a wad of bills and threw it on his lap. That's all I have, Wildman."

"You can go to a bank."

"I've had enough of you, Jackie. Shut up or I'm going to break your fucking neck."

He finally gave up.

Something kept bugging me about Richard's fortress. A locked door, a brutal murder, and nobody heard a thing? With Jackie now watching the Woo suite I headed out of town full of suspicion. Willy had given the outside guards a heads up so they merely turned their backs when I waved. But the dogs welcomed me with eager snarls and growls. Once inside the library, Willy poured our drinks.

"Jada was here about ten days ago. She stayed overnight."

Ouch. "How do you know?"

"King. He told me so this morning. But she slept in a guestroom."

I felt somewhat better. "Does King know why she came here?"

"If he does he isn't telling me. King isn't a talker. Naturally I asked him who came and went from here recently and he said Jada. He took her breakfast to a guestroom. Period."

"Why do you think she came?"

"I have no idea. She was invited or wouldn't have made it past the guards. Remember that she and Richard are old friends. And lovers. There was obviously a bond between them."

Funny, that. Richard and I first wanting Jillian and now Jada. We must have had more in common than I thought. "I'd like to know exactly why she was here."

He smiled that infectious smile. "You might ask her. I'm willing to bet she'll tell you what you want to know. She fell for you like a ton of bricks. It was pathetic to watch."

"Guilty. We kind of fell for each other."

"Just be careful, Hampton. The girl is bad news."

On the way back into town, Willy called me on my cell. "Richard's mother wants to see you. She's staying at _The Grand Millennium._ She'd like to have dinner tonight with you and Jack. She's made reservations at _Yao Chi Chinese Restaurant_ in the hotel. You like Cantonese, don't you?"

"I love Cantonese. I can't wait, in fact. It will be interesting to see what transpires between Won and Jack."

"Well, she still loves him, I can tell you that. When I met with her here before, while I was hiding from Richard, she told me as much. And there's a good chance he still loves her too. It should be interesting."

I arrived at the hotel early to grab a couple of quiet minutes over whisky in the Lobby Lounge and unfortunately, Jack had done the exact same thing. As much as I wanted to ignore him, I couldn't, since he was madly waving and hollering my name. "Hamster! Get over here, you big mutt."

I slinked like a mink to his table. "You called?"

"Sit down. I need someone to talk to. I'm nervous."

I nodded. "You should be."

He ordered a tray of whisky and knocked back two doubles without blinking. "That's a little better." He proceeded to knock back two more.

"What are you nervous about?"

"What do you think? I was in love with this woman. But she ran off on me. She hid from me and birthed my son. A son I didn't know about until recently. And now he's dead. I have a lot to be nervous about."

"What did she say to you at the funeral dinner? I saw you talking to her on her way in."

"Not much. Nice to see you, she said. That was about it."

"So you have a lot to talk about. I don't know why I'm here. The two of you should spend some time alone."

"You're here because I asked her to invite you. Through Willy. Willy made the arrangements for us both."

I screwed up my face. "You wanted me here? For what?"

"To make us laugh. There'll be tension and maybe you can tell a joke."

"Why didn't you ask Willy? She knows Willy and would have been more comfortable with him. Willy could have told a joke."

"You know Willy can't leave the boys. He doesn't trust them. He doesn't know what they're up to but he thinks they're up to something."

"He's right about that. They're definitely up to something. We just have to find out what it is."

Jack threw back another double. "I don't know what to say to Won. I already said sorry about Richard. I mean, how many times can you say that?"

"Once. And you've already said it."

"I hate small talk."

"You won't have to worry about that if you keep belting back the booze. You're going to pass out soon."

"You know I don't pass out, Hamster. A man my size can belt back a forty without even belching."

I checked my watch. "It's time to go. We don't want to be fashionably late."

He groaned. "I guess if we have to."

Won was already seated in a restaurant of shiny floors, white pleated tablecloths, and a formal white tea service beside fragrant fresh flowers. She smiled. It was a sedate smile, secretive and beguiling.

Jack made nice. "Won, I'd like you to meet my other son, Charlie. He's not as good looking as Richard and he's stupid. Other than that, I think you'll like him."

She smiled. "I already do. It's nice to meet you, Charlie."

Jack sat down beside Won while I sat across from the two. "It's nice to meet you, too. Willy has said a lot of good things about you."

She looked softly pretty in a short-sleeved, red cheongsam with gold embroidery. Gold circles dangled from her ears. I could see what Jack saw in her. She was attractive to the nth degree – dark hair and dark mysterious eyes. "I enjoyed meeting Willy and I understand you are friends, Charlie."

I nodded. "We kind of grew up together. At Jack's house. I went to live with Jack when I was ten, after my parents died in a car wreck, and Willy's uncle works for Jack. Or vice-versa. One never knows. Anyway, Willy often came to visit."

Jack jumped in. "They got into a lot of trouble, Won. They shot my neighbor's canary with a bibi gun. And with that same bibi gun they robbed a preacher down the street. Would you like to know more?"

She smiled. "It sounds like you were partners in crime."

"We still are. We're blood brothers, actually. We even performed the ceremony with a knife."

"And Willy had to get stitches because Hamster was such a klutz."

"My last name is Hampton, Ms. Chang. So Jack calls me Hamster. In case you're confused."

"I think I'll call you Charlie. You look like a Charlie to me. You're very handsome."

Jack removed the glasses from his case. "Here Won. Try these on. Hamster looks like a hedgehog." He ploughed his fingers through his thick sandy-colored curls. "You know, with all that hair."

So, who was the comedian now? He was using me as a prop. So that's why he wanted me along. I stood up. "My cell is buzzing so I'm going to take this outside." With that I left the restaurant and headed outdoors. From my rental I texted Jack, ' _I have an emergency. Please convey my sincere apology to Ms. Chang and tell her that I look forward to seeing her again soon. Enjoy your evening'._

I didn't hear from Jack for several days but not for the reasons one might think.

# Chapter Seven

A COUPLE OF QUESTIONS PLAGUED me. And a couple of people too. Albert Noe, for instance. Albert had shown up at Richard's funeral but there'd been no exchange of information between Reynolds and Albert on my re-wind. To my knowledge, Reynolds hadn't shared Willy's email with either Mini or Albert yet both seemed to know he was dead. And then there was Gap-tooth Zu. Why did my radar go off like a stun gun when he came near, or the hair bristle on the back of my neck? Clearly, I had work to do.

On Saturday, I finally got to act like a tourist and to walk _The Great Wall of China_. Having grown up in Beijing, and attended school and university there, Jada was a chatty tour guide. She talked about the invasions of Nomadic tribesmen to the north and about how the stone, brick, and trampled earth wall had been built to keep them out. While _the Wall_ had been added to and reinforced throughout the years, she said, it was presently twenty-nine feet, ten inches wide, which I could actually see for myself. It was a warm day and as smoggy as the smoke from a pile of burning rubble but I could clearly see what I wanted to see most. Jada.

Jada was lovely with her brown eyes wide and her long dark hair blowing in the light breeze. She was wearing white: white shirt, shorts and shoes. A small white handbag carried her personal things. She chatted as we walked along.

"I should tell you that you're walking with a sheng nu."

"What is a sheng nu?"

She laughed. "Well, you didn't say it right but a sheng nu is a leftover woman. It's a derogatory term for unmarried women of my age. To be over thirty and unmarried is still regarded as shameful although not quite as much anymore. Professional women are defying old customs and traditions and our numbers are growing."

"If I might ask a personal question?"

"Of course."

"Why is a beautiful woman like you still single?"

She thought about it. "Well, I could say by choice but that's a lie. I've had bad luck. Should I ask you the same question?"

"Same answer I guess. I've only ever loved one woman but she didn't love me back."

"And how do you feel about me?"

"Scared."

"Why?"

"Because I'm falling for you and I don't like it."

"Oh, poor baby! Are you scared of getting hurt?"

I shrugged.

"Well, so am I. And I've been hurt a lot. So, what's say we put those fears aside and just go for it. If someone gets hurt it's just part of the deal." She stopped then to take my face in her hands. "Why don't we have a wonderful time together, Charlie, before one of us gets hurt?"

I couldn't see why not. And our long slow passionate kiss was a public disgrace. Maybe even a crime.

Early the following morning, Tony collected me in a cab. He wasn't going to have me visit Beijing and not have an authentic experience. He'd grown up there and a street food breakfast was his favorite part of the day, especially jianbing. Hutong Alleyways were already bustling with shoppers selecting vegetables to take home and many, of course, stopping to eat at the stalls. Some on their way to work.

"The produce comes here on bicycles," Tony told me, as we began our journey on foot. "Or motorbikes. It's here by five a.m." Tony was eighty years old but on that Beijing morning he looked twelve. It was the enthusiasm. His brown eyes sparkled with anticipation and he twirled his cane. "First we try the jianbing. You'll love it. There's nothing scary about it at all."

I worried. Tony had mostly tortured me while I was growing up. He and his wife, Maya, Jack's cook, occupied the guest house at 33 Terrace Place but he never seemed to go home. Late into the evening he and Jack would sip cognac in the library behind closed doors. As a boy I was intrigued by what went on in that room and when I finally found out, well, I kept my big mouth shut.

"Jianbing is my favorite, Charlie." He led me to a stall where the vendor was busy cooking something that looked like a big pancake on a round cast iron griddle. "You have to wait your turn. It's only cooked fresh, one by one. That crepe is made out of wheat and mung bean flour. It gets very crispy."

So far, so good. Soon the cook cracked two fresh eggs on top of the crepe and with a small cleaver spread them around. She sprinkled the crepe with scallions and fresh herbs before flipping it over to smear it with a paste."

Tony's eyes went wide. "That's what makes it so good! The sweet bean paste. That and the cilantro she added with the scallions. Now she is adding the hoisin sauce and chili sauce and lettuce. But the best is yet to come. Look! The crunchy wonton!" She folded the crepe up and cut it in half. "We're next," said Tony excitedly. "I can hardly wait."

I smiled. He was so playful! He was more excited about this ceremony, in fact, than counting money. But he was right about the crispy jianbing. It was delicious and I decided at that moment to live on jianbing for the rest of my life. But Tony wasn't finished yet. Not by a long shot. "You have to try the miancha, Charlie. It is so good."

"Sorry. I don't think I have room."

"Make room. You have to try everything once. If not, I'm not bringing you here again."

I giggled. He knew I was hooked on jianbing and would go there every day if given the chance. So, now for the miancha. It came in a bowl and didn't look so good to me.

"It's just porridge," Tony goaded. "Sesame paste porridge. Don't be such a sissy."

I tried it. And it wasn't half-bad. I took a few spoons full before covering the dish with a napkin. I really didn't have room. But spry old Tony polished off his bowl and was looking around for more. I swear he had a hollow cane.

"One more stop, Charlie. You have to try douzhi."

Oh. Oh. The name itself sounded like a warning. I'd heard it before. It didn't take long for me to remember when and where as the stinky order woofing from the little food shack churned my gut. "Oh, no," I told Tony. "I'm not going in there."

"You have to. I need to sit down. And you need to try it. You have to try a 'no thank you' bite. You know, in case you like it."

I dug in my heels. "I'm not trying it. So don't order me anything. I'll sit down with you because you need to rest but that's it. Period."

He came back to our wooden table and sat down on the bench. He then presented a bowl of something bad and two spoons. He nodded. "You'll like it. It's fermented green bean soup. Very good for you."

I shook my head. "Very bad for me because I don't like it. I can't stand the smell of it."

"Coward." He proceeded to sip away. "Delicious."

Willy was right about the dirty socks. I thought I was going to die there from asphyxiation.

But Tony dug right in. "This is home to me. This food is home. It reminds me of my childhood. It's always hard to go back to Vancouver after my visits here. But I'm glad we've had this time together. You are family to me, Charlie, and I'm worried about you. You are getting in over your head."

"I'll be ok. I can handle myself."

"Not in this part of the world. You're a spoiled Vancouver boy who grew up in a privileged home with luxuries that most people here have to kill for in order to buy. Am I making myself clear?"

"There's a lot of poverty here."

"And dangerous people because of it. My niece, Jada, may be one of them. Not that she's poor. She's a brilliant girl who should be content with her job as a researcher. She makes decent money and is respected for her work. But Jada's not like that. She wants a lot more and she'll do what it takes to accomplish it."

# Chapter Eight

BACK AT THE FORTRESS WILLY was on a roll. He'd rummaged through Richard's office and discovered a few things, like online bank accounts and investments, several of them not mentioned in the will. He was busy trying to crack the passwords when I called.

"They're in code. They likely mean something but it would help if I knew more about his operation here. I likely know more than anyone but I worked on Richard's North American enterprises. California mostly. With Leo, as you may recall."

I did. It was hard to forget Leo _the Lizard_ Cheng. I'd spent a lot of time with Leo, through a lens, on the other side a wall, a relatively safe place to be. Leo wasn't pretty. A ball baring bore more hair than Leo and a shark fewer teeth. He had a penchant for Birkenstock sandals, always worn with socks, and he liked to float in the ocean dead.

"I thought Freddie was his accountant."

"Yeah, right. Freddie has access to the household account only. I've been into it. A lot of small transactions. I assume for groceries, etcetera. There's one entry that's interesting though. It's a withdrawal for twelve hundred thousand yuan. In your language it's over two hundred grand. Not a small amount. I asked Freddie about it but he said he didn't know, that likely Richard had taken the money because he had not. And he was very indignant about it all."

"I'll bet. Did he say, 'You very bad man, Willy'?"

He laughed. "They don't call me Willy. They call me nanhal. It means boy."

I laughed too. "Well, boy. It sounds like you're having a blast there. Did you ask Freddie if he remembered anything about the date of the withdrawal? Like did anything special happen on that day?"

"No. He's not speaking to me. Neither are the other two. They don't like to be questioned. And certainly not by a boy."

Willy was exactly my age. Thirty-six. But he still looked twelve. "There's something else I'd like to know. It's about Gap-tooth Zu. I'd like to find out more about him."

He shook his head. "Stay away from him, Charlie. It's none of your concern. He's a dangerous man into dangerous stuff. You need to stay as far away as possible and forget you ever saw him. Get it?"

"But what if he offed Richard?"

"What if he did? Trust me. You won't be able to do anything about it. And you won't even see him coming if you try. We'll be going home soon, you and I. And I'd like to go there in one piece, thank you very much."

When I arrived back at the hotel I found Jackie asleep in his chair beside an empty room-service cart. I shook him hard. "You got a report for me, Rip?"

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. He was only twenty-one, after all. "Rip who?

"Rip Van Winkle. He was a sleepy guy like you. So, what have you seen?"

"Wenolds was back in the account. He took the same amount again. Stwange."

"It is strange. He's up to something. And what about Albert? Have you been watching him today?"

"He's stwange too. Everything has to be perfect."

It didn't take rocket science to recognize an obsessive-compulsive disorder. Albert was in the process of adjusting the blinds on his two office windows and fussing to get them aligned at the exact same height. His MacBook was exactly in the centre of his desk, not further to the right or left, or from the top and bottom. It took him a while to get it exactly right. I found myself wondering if he was afraid to use it. Beside the computer a gold-plated pen lay exactly one inch away. He adjusted it twice before straightening an already straight picture on the wall.

"Does he ever work, Wildman?"

He nodded. "He works fast. Wery fast. And then he stops to fix things again. He gets a lot done."

It made me dizzy just watching Albert's computer screen when he finally settled in. Papers flew out of the printer at record speed and he only stopped typing the commands to gather them together in a perfect, parallel pile. He did this twice before heading back to the blinds. But things were about to change when Mini knocked on the door.

"Are my statements ready, Albert?" She stood in the doorway with her little hands on her hips.

"Of course. You know they're always ready by noon."

"It's noon now so why don't I have them?"

He walked them to the door. "It's always my pleasure, Ms. Chin."

She snatched the papers from his hand. "You don't have to condescend, Albert. You know very well I'm disagreeable."

I turned to Jackie. "That's a good word. Why don't you write it down?"

"You know I won't."

"Why?"

"Because I'm disagreeable."

We shared a laugh before Albert turned to something new. He was playing online cards in what looked like a casino.

"He's gambling, isn't he Jackie?"

"Are you new? Well, that's what you always say to me because I am new. In Woncouver, I am. He's playing poker."

"I thought so. I'm getting better at Chinese. Who is he playing against?"

He smacked his forehead with his hand. "You can't see them, Amster! You can't see through the computer. Their just guys. Some could even be in Canada. Or Paris."

"How much is he betting?"

"Wots. Too much."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he's woosing. Big time." He giggled. "You see? I can talk like you now. Big time." With that he hopped off his chair and left for lunch.

Albert left for lunch too, and since I had nothing better to do than watch the lunch cart arrive for Reynolds, I followed him. It was a nice part of town with restaurants and hotels catering to tourists, with so many attractions and historic landmarks near-bye. There was only one site that I didn't plan to see. _Tiananmen Square._ Why? Because some of Willy's older cousins were murdered there. Young Chinese intellects massacred in their prime. But that's Willy's story, not mine.

I followed Albert into the lobby of a hotel where he met a friend, a stocky Asian gentleman with a limp. I sat at the bar where I watched both men in the mirror and it didn't much matter if Albert could see me too, since I was nothing more than a stranger to him. In due time, Albert slipped a wad of bills from his pocket and passed it under the table. That meant nothing to me either. I ate a double-whisky lunch.

Later that night, after Reynolds and Mini had retired to their separate quarters, and Jackie was passed out cold in his bed, a pleasant surprise arrived. Willy called me from his rental to say that the goons were getting him down and that he was on his way up in the elevator. He even accepted a Chinese beer after stretching out on a recliner.

"You wouldn't believe those guys, Hampton. They're like children. They're still not speaking to me simply because I asked about a large withdrawal from Richard's household account. It's insane. They whisper behind my back and run away when they hear me coming. If they need to communicate they tape a note to my bedroom door. This morning it said that room service was no longer available and that my cold breakfast was in the kitchen. Sticky buns, juice and coffee. All cold. There would also be a cold lunch and dinner in the fridge. They were sorry but the microwave was broken so they hoped I liked raw fish."

I smiled. "You don't like fish. Cooked or raw."

"And they know it. They're just being mean. They're punishing the nanhal for daring to act like their boss. How do I know this? Because I heard them say it, loudly. They wanted me to hear. They don't think a boy should be bossing them around."

"That's too funny. Why don't you tape a note to the fridge? Just say 'I'm thirty-six, dummies. Eat shit!'"

"Well, I could. Except I kind of like my testicles in place. On my body."

"What would you like me to do?"

"Order room service. I'm starving."

I retrieved a menu from the desk and threw it on his lap. "Go crazy. It's the least Jack can do since he got us into this mess."

"Are you hungry too?"

I had to think about it. "I guess I am. I don't think I've eaten today. Order doubles of everything. And a fifth of whisky. I'm running low."

Over a late-night dinner we watched Albert Noe return to his office. He lowered his blinds and didn't even fuss, since they were at maximum length. Soon he was at his desk with an open ledger beside him. "What do you think he's doing?"

"It looks like he's copying things. That's Mini's portfolio he's working on. Oh, my god! He's fudging numbers. Those are her investments, alright. And he's showing a loss. But she's actually winning so he must be skimming off the top."

"How can he do that?"

"Easy. He more than likely has access to her bank account. Too many investors allow this to happen. Many even give their brokers power of attorney. Both are wrong. My guess is that Albert is skimming the cream off the top and investing the profits in his own stocks. But look. This page is totally different. Here Mimi is losing but Albert's numbers show her winning. The reverse."

"Why?"

"My guess? She doesn't own these stocks at all. He's just made the portfolio up to please her. So she thinks she's ahead of the game."

"And the money she's investing?"

"In Albert's portfolio."

I sat back in my chair. "Holy smoke! Albert is a crook."

"Yes. He definitely is a crook. And furthermore he charges Mini for every one of those transactions you saw flying off the printer. He's making money off Mini hand over foot. But hold on. There's more. There's a second portfolio coming out of the drawer."

"Reynolds?"

"No. Reynolds doesn't invest. He has to give all his money to his mother who gives him an allowance. A small allowance since he never goes anywhere."

"The millions made from the stolen artifacts?"

"In Mini's account. Reynolds got nothing. That's why she beat him and smashed his Karaoke box when he lost possession of the drugs. But as you know, the heroin was minor compared to the artifacts in the shipment and Reynolds got his cut. After the bruises healed."

"Whose account is this? Is there a name on it?" Well, pardon me if I don't read or write Chinese.

"There is. It's a Mr. Chard." Willy started to laugh. "No kidding!"

"Do you know Mr. Chard?"

"Only because I worked for him for years. Mr. Chard is Mr. Ri _chard_ Chang. That's his code name."

# Chapter Nine

THINGS WERE ABOUT TO BREAK open, although not completely wide. The following day the goons, for reasons unknown, decided to forgive Willy and give him a break. They remembered that on the day of the large cash withdrawal, Jada had stayed overnight. It wasn't what I wanted to hear. I decided to take her to a posh dinner on Jack and asked her to meet me at TRB Forbidden City. Take that, Willy! Although the restaurant offered European cuisine, the website said they used locally-sourced product, which was good enough for me. It was stunning inside with its long, quilted benches, immaculate white tablecloths, and a glass-topped divider running the length of the room down the centre. She was already seated when I arrived.

I kissed her cheek before sitting down. "You look lovely tonight."

She showed her beautiful teeth. "Luckily I keep some formal attire in my locker. Otherwise I'd be here in a white coat."

White coat be damned. She looked amazing in a strapless red dress and with her long dark hair tied into a tail.

"Have you checked out the menu?"

"I have. Seafood, you lucky guy, because you're getting laid tonight. You'll need your strength. I think the first tasting menu sounds great. Apple foie gras, poached scallop with caviar, cod fish, and for your hemoglobin, a beef filet. A caramelized pineapple meringue for dessert. Sound good?"

"Absolutely. And the wine?"

"It comes with five pours."

"Perfect. And so are you."

Her round brown eyes sparkled. "Have you missed me, Charlie?"

"What do you think?"

"I think yes. And I've missed you too. This is going to be a wonderful night."

From that place forward it was all small talk, since I wasn't about to spoil this wonderful night. It was only later while cuddling together in bed, exhausted, that I dared to ask about the transaction in question.

She plopped her body against the headboard and asked for a cigarette. "It's a long story. Have you got all night?"

"I've got forever where you're concerned."

She dragged deeply on the cigarette. "Well, the beginning was a long time ago. I was a student at Peking University as you know. And I found myself pregnant. Unmarried mothers are still devalued in our society but back then it was much worse. Luckily, I was small and able to hide the pregnancy well. I made plans to have the baby in the country and was only gone from school two weeks. The baby was to be adopted and my life went on as usual."

I slipped my arm around her shoulders. "That must have been tough."

She nodded. "It was very sad. Sad because I was able to hold him in my arms and love him. I've never loved like that before and never will again. But I couldn't bring him home. My family never would have allowed it. And to this day they know nothing of him at all." A tear rolled down her cheek. "So I put it behind me. Until recently when I was contacted by my boy's adoptive parents. They could no longer financially care for him and asked if I was interested in buying him back."

"They wanted to sell him? That's pretty cold."

"This is China, Charlie. Money changes hands without emotion a lot of the time. These people were in financial trouble and saw this sale as a way out. Or so they told me. They wanted a lot of money."

"Would it be two-hundred thousand US dollars?"

"I know you know or we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"And Richard gave you the money."

"He loaned me the money. I told him I'd pay him back."

"But he's dead."

"So, what are you saying? That I might have killed him? Not for that amount of money, I wouldn't. I make a decent salary and I planned to pay him back. Period."

"I don't think you killed him, Jada."

"Richard and I go back a long way. We were school sweethearts and in love. It's just that we went our different ways when school was done. He went to university in England, a long way away. And things changed."

"What about the boy? Where is he?"

"Well, that's the sad part of the story. I rented a car and went to meet the parents with the bills in a backpack and two men with guns showed up and stole the money from me."

"It was a scam. Was it the parents?"

"Likely. Or it could have been the woman who arranged the adoption. I was just glad to be alive."

"And you have a son somewhere."

"I do. I have a fourteen-year old boy that I was dying to see."

And a loan you don't have to repay, I was thinking, but wisely said nothing. Could things get any more complicated? Yes, they could. Since we were in deep territory now I dared to ask Jada about Gap-tooth Zu.

"This conversation starts and ends here, Charlie. There is no continuation. This man is the devil."

"I've felt that. I've been around a few tough guys in my life but not one that makes my skin crawl. Do you know him personally?"

"No. By reputation only. He's Richard's older cousin and grew up in another part of Being. Why are you interested in him? Because he came to the funeral? Most of Richard's family was there. Understandably."

"It's more than that. He and his driver took Willy and I to Richard's hideout the day we arrived. So, he obviously knew where Richard was living. I understand from Willy that Richard changed addresses as often as he changed his underwear. For safety reasons. So, he must have trusted Zu."

"I don't know why. Zu is hideous."

"What's he into?"

"Everything. Drugs. Heroin and opium. Mostly in the Golden Triangle. _Myanmar, Laos,_ and _Thailand."_

"I hear they grow a lot of poppies down there."

"They refine them too. Major refineries on the Thai-Burma border. Then, of course, the trafficking. Thus the drug lords."

"I'm kind of familiar with one of those guys. I think he's my surrogate brother. Or was, I should say."

"Well, Richard was pretty clean compared to Zu. Zu is also into human trafficking."

I whistled. "That explains things. Like why he gives me the creeps."

"Well, leave it there." She patted my cheek. "I don't need to lose both you and Richard."

The following morning I was paid a visit by a man wearing a hat and dark glasses. It was the honorable Tony Chan who wasted no time in shooing Jackie away. "Have you heard from Jack?"

"No. Not since that first text he sent to both of us. Saying that he and Won were going to the countryside to rekindle their romance."

He removed his glasses and rubbed the red marks left behind. "That was a few days ago. We should have heard from him by now. Jack's a communicator. Even if he's sending jokes he's sending something. I've texted him several times but he hasn't responded. I don't have a good feeling about this."

Tony was right about the texting. Jack was a pest where texts were concerned and rarely went half an hour without bugging someone. "What would you like me to do?"

He shook his old grey head. "Watch carefully. Mini's cats kidnapped Jack before and with Richard out of the way, she may go after him again. My understanding is that her A Team hasn't left this part of the world. And Albert Noe was at the funeral so they know that Jack was here."

"I thought she kidnapped Jack because Richard was his son. What would be her motive with Richard gone?"

"To keep a certain person in place."

"Who would that be?"

"Me."

That same afternoon Jackie was reading Albert's mail. "He just bwought tickets. He's going to Macau."

"By plane?"

"No. He's going to walk. He bought walking tickets. Ha. Ha. Doesn't say. Ok. He's flying. Are you happy now, Amster?"

"How long is he going for?"

"Free days."

"I can't quite see Mini giving him three days off."

"It isn't all fun. He has to work."

"What's he going to do?"

"How should I know? He went into the back room with Mini so I couldn't hear."

After getting the travel details from Jackie I texted Jada. ' _Up for a long weekend? How would you like to go to Macau?'"_

She came immediately back. _'Sounds bad. But I have holidays coming. I can go along and try to save your ass.'_

Willy felt the same when I called to tell him of my plans. "I'm not so sure you should go, Hampton. You may be walking into something beyond your control. And yes, Jada can be your guide but she has her share of enemies too. She's into dangerous stuff, although I've told you that before and it hasn't stopped you."

I was piecing together the Gloc 9 from my luggage. "Tony thinks they may have Jack. We haven't heard anything in four days. He's worried."

"I talked to Kow Gong. He's right to worry. It's not like Jack to disappear. I'm just not sure you should be going to Macau though. There's rampant mafia there. Bad guys."

"What do you suggest?"

"I suggest we trade places. You come and babysit the goons and I'll go to Macau."

We shared a laugh as I was closing my case.

# Chapter Ten

SO, THERE WE WERE OFF to the _Las Vegas of Asia,_ except much larger, __ via _Air China._ My travelling companion looked hot in a skimpy pink dress that barely covered her pubes while a soft white sweater rested on her shoulders. She turned to me with big doe eyes. "First class economy. I'm impressed."

"Don't thank me, thank Jack. I'm just showing off his cheapness. It's all the airline had to offer."

"And we're staying at _The Venetian_?"

"I thought you'd want your own bed."

She giggled. "Like that's going to happen. That second bed is for later. You know, for when our sheets get damp."

I licked my lips. "Behave. We're on a public plane."

"Wanna do the mile high?"

"Jada! I need your help with this. I'm trying to figure things out. After that we do the mile high. Ok?"

She nodded. "How can I help?"

"So, I did my research and people in Macau have the fourth longest life expectancy in the world. How come."

"They're wealthy. It's one of the wealthiest regions in the world. Gambling is good for the economy. So much of China is tragically poor, you see. Although along with that wealth comes major crime. But that much you already know."

"The Triad. And the Casinos."

She nodded. "They control the VIP rooms and protect their high-rollers. Thus the loan-sharking. When a pathological gambler gets down on his luck he needs to borrow money. It's a huge business."

"Although gamblers come to Macau from all over the world, Willy says the Chinese love to gamble. That it's in your blood."

"Chinese do love to gamble. It's our strong belief in luck, fate and fortune. Superstition and numerology too. You see, some of us believe that our fate is predetermined by our ancestors. Some believe that good luck in gambling is blessed by the gods. So, it's a number of factors but, yes, we love to gamble. When you come with me to the tables you'll understand."

"Are you lucky?"

Her eyes glistened. "Most of the time."

Over an airplane lunch I questioned her further. "Is there anything else I should know? About human trafficking, for instance?"

She turned pale. "It's not my favorite subject."

A bouncy flight attendant came by to pour the water.

I backed off. "It's alright, Jada. We can change the subject. It's not that important."

Her dark eyes grew wide. "Oh, but it is! It's very important! It's crimes against humanity. A travesty." With the dishes cleared away she sat back to think. "There are many types of human trafficking, Charlie. The first and most importantly involves women and children because they are affected by all activity. Firstly, the children. Often they are forced into prostitution and pornography. Also slavery. They can be bought and sold as domestics and forced into child labor. This sometimes happens when poor parents are duped into believing their children will have better lives when given a better opportunity. These children are used as organ donors too, which is very sad. Child soldiers, too."

I swallowed hard. "It's hard to believe that in this day and age there's an industry around such unspeakable crime."

"Human trafficking is the most rapidly growing of trans-national crimes. Gangs in Thailand and Brazil are thriving on it. But there's more. Now we'll talk about the women, often promised jobs in the service industry but are locked up, beaten, and forced into prostitution. They must endure non-stop sex. Some are sold into a forced marriage, basically as a sex slave. They may also have their organs harvested or serve as surrogates to birth children for the wealthy."

"And then there is labor trafficking," she continued. "Slaves sold for domestic work, agricultural, construction, manufacturing, entertainment etcetera. This usually happens to migrants who go looking for better jobs. The number of slave laborers in the world is in the millions. Forty million, according to the latest stats. Hard to believe, isn't it? As you say, in this day and age. And just one last thing. State prisoners are the largest organ donors, since it's hard for them to say no behind bars. And vast numbers of prisoners have completely disappeared without explanation. Sale of human organs and tissue is a huge industry, given the long wait lists in wealthy countries." She leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes. "Now I'm done. And I never want to speak of this again."

After the transfer in _Nanning_ she perked up a bit, especially when asked about the mile-high thing. "Maybe on the way home, Charlie. If we survive Macau."

"That bad, huh? You think I can't look after us?"

"I know you can't. That's why I'm here. To look after us." She looked deeply into my eyes. "You know I love you, don't you? I need to say that now. I've never been in love like this before. It was puppy love with Richard. And I've certainly dated since him. But with you it's different. I can feel you in my toes. Yes, it's sexual. But you're in the deepest part of my heart too. I never want to lose you."

I drew her to me and kissed her long and lustfully. "You won't lose me. I'm not that easy to get rid of. But for the record? I love you too. With my heart."

After dinner in our posh suite, with its raised bedroom overlooking the city below, we showered and retired early, the seven-hour trip having disabled two old people in their thirties. I popped the cork on the Dom Perignon and poured a couple of glasses. "To Jack!" I toasted. "Thank you for this lovely trip."

We clinked. "You're worried about him, aren't you?"

I nodded. "It's not like him to just disappear. Jack's not like that. He makes a big noise. And if Tony is worried it isn't good."

She threw back her long dark hair. "Do you think Albert might lead you to him?"

"I don't know. Mini may have had a hand in things. Or maybe not. I have to start somewhere."

She grabbed my arm. "I'm glad you started here. I have a couple of contacts in Macau. Maybe they can help."

Oh. Oh. "Don't get involved, Jada. People have a way of disappearing around me and I don't want it to be you."

Her eyes glazed over. She was gone. She was going to stick her nose in my business, guaranteed. I should have come alone.

Following Albert around the casinos was like trailing a rabid dog. He frothed at the mouth with excitement. He staggered, although free booze may have had something to do with it, and he stumbled while trying to cash in his huge piles of chips. Baccarat. I mean, who does that? Baccarat Albert was a winner, alright. Additionally, he had the hugest appetite of any gambler I'd ever known. He ate several meals a day, each one a feast for a king, never leaving behind a morsel on his plate. Frequent, justifiable trips to the bathroom followed such events then back came the ferocious wild dog. Baccarat.

He appeared to be acting alone – no meetings, no fellow conspirators, yet Mini told Reynolds that Albert was on a working vacation. I had only two more days to catch him at his game. His real game, that was.

Jada was a suitable travelling companion, having gone off in search of friends on her own, leaving me to mostly watch Albert eat a lot of Portuguese food. He ate a national dish called minchi, a combination of beef, or sometimes pork, with potatoes, onions and often an egg. He ate seafood – cod and crab – or rabbit or duck. He didn't much care. The guy ate like a Sumo Wrestler yet, I assumed from his strict martial arts routine, was trim and lean. I started to gamble myself, not being opposed to throwing Jack's money down the sucking drain. Swirling. Baccarat wasn't going to beat me. Damn. Alright. It did. I'm not a lucky guy, you see, in life or in love, and it was just a matter of time before Jada left me hurting. Jackie's call mid-afternoon sent me in another direction.

"Mini says that Abet is there to win back the money he wost on her stocks."

"That's it?"

"Well, not all. She doesn't know he's scamming. She just knows about the stuff he shows her. But she told Weynolds that if he doesn't make it up he's dead."

"In that case Albert will be ok. He's made a ton of money here. Far more than the minor losses he's showing her. She'll be happy with what he's bringing back, even after he pockets ninety percent for himself. The guy can start up his own bank after this."

"Are you making money too, Amster? For us?"

I laughed. "Not yet. But my luck is bound to improve."

"Why? Because it can't get any worse?"

"You know me only too well. It's just that word 'zhuang' I don't like. Zhuang keeps taking my chips away."

Jackie convulsed. "You're such a woser, Amster! Zhuang is the banker. He only takes the chips if you wose."

"How would I know? He just keeps swiping everything away. Doesn't even say anything."

"You could fight him, Amster. There's cameras you wealize. They'll beat your fucking head in. That's all."

Yup. I needed that. "Ok. Maybe I'll take that gift I bought for today back, Wildman. Since you think so little of me."

"Sorry. I'm not falling for that one either. Woser."

"Get back to work, Jackie Chan. And don't be such a smartass."

# Chapter Eleven

AS IT TURNED OUT, JADA was not the ideal travelling companion because she didn't come home that night. She left a message on my cell around nine saying she'd be late, then nothing. I trailed Albert until midnight, when he retired for the evening, then paced my bedroom floor. It wasn't like Jada to disappear off the radar screen, not my screen at least, since we'd recently become joined at the hip. I worried. I especially worried, given the advice from both Willy and Tony Chan about Jada's willfulness and her ability to find trouble. By five o'clock in the morning I'd riffled through her things several times and had drawn a blank. Shortly after six I discovered a crumpled note in the wastepaper basket among the debris and checked my cell for directions. In Chinese. Fortunately, my cab driver was Chinese too. No kidding. We drove through a hilly section of Macau with little houses and narrow, winding streets. I didn't have a good feeling in my gut.

It was an abandoned warehouse, I figured, if boarded up windows, tall weeds, and no fresh tire tracks meant something. And while I told the cabby to wait he sped away. Nice. Well, in his defense his English skills were lacking. So, there I was, stuck in the middle of nowhere with only curiosity on my mind. Thus, my successful search for a strong block of wood with which to pry the boards off a back door. During this process, I heard voices coming from within and when finally I managed to enter the pitch-black building I called out Jada's name.

"Charlie!" she cried. "We're here. Straight ahead. We're tied up."

And they were. Through the dim light of the doorway I was able to find them – Jada and two young Chinese girls. The girls were crying.

"What the hell, Jada?" I was quick to extract my butterfly knife and to hack at the duct tape. "What the hell?" It was the last thing I remember. And may I say that I liked my head better before the smashing blow because sometime later I woke up with a smoking headache. When I finally made my way to the door it was wide open and dark outside. No Jada and no girls. I still had my cell and my Gloc 9 so obviously it wasn't me they wanted, just a quick exit. And Jada. Jada was involved in something not so good. I started walking and to dial for a cab, not easy since I didn't know where I was. At last I reached a residential area with street signs in Chinese. Not helpful. To my rescue came a little restaurant with an owner who spoke some English. She dialed a cab on my behalf while telling me about her sister in Vancouver. Beautiful Vancouver. I was a long way from home.

And bitter. Growing increasingly bitter by the minute. I'd wasted my time trailing a gambler for no good reason. I'd brought a woman to Macau who was more trouble than I cared to handle and whom I may never see again, which, in another life, would have been fine with me. But not in this life. I worried about her safety as I packed up her things and mine. Damn stupid woman. She was a brilliant scientist with a big career, not a mafia princess. I was thinking such thoughts while waiting for _Air China_ to close its jet doors when a last-minute passenger puffed in. It was Jada, all out of breath.

"I escaped," she whispered, while I pawed her face and hair. "But I couldn't help the girls." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I couldn't help them! But I tried."

I held her tight. It would be a long flight home while Jada poured her heart into my ear. Her friend in Macau, an ex-cop, was into rescuing young people from human trafficking rings. It was his life purpose now and he'd been successful on many missions. This time not so much. She wanted to be part of this operation but when they arrived at the warehouse to free the girls, a gang of four awaited. Her friend was taken away, to be murdered she thought, and she was imprisoned to become yet another human slave. But she'd made her escape from the back of a van at a traffic light and could only pray for the girls who were just ten and eleven years old. She sobbed herself to sleep.

I stayed at her condo that night but due to an overnight text I headed for my hotel early the following morning. Tony Chan had already arrived, had enjoyed a brief visit with his nephew, then shooed him away when I appeared. Jackie made a face behind his uncle's back.

"Won has Jack," Tony started.

"Great. So he's safe, then?"

"Not great. Not safe. She's holding him as hostage."

"What?"

"Don't look so shocked. We always knew there was someone bigger than Richard. I sometimes even thought it was her but then I'd give my head a shake. That classy lady?" He rubbed his old grey head. "But in order to climb the Triad ladder as fast as Richard did he had to have had help. We knew about his cousin, Gap-tooth Zu. But we always knew there was someone above him too. Now we know for sure."

I scratched my own head. "I'm going to play stupid, Tony. I know nothing about your business here because you never let me in. I know about the money laundering, yes. You and Jack own a number of Canadian shell companies that apparently make a lot of money, which you mostly send abroad. But other than that, I'm beat. It isn't drugs?"

He shook his head. "You know it isn't. It was Richard's thing, yes. And Won's, it now seems. That faction controls a lot of the activity in The Golden Triangle. But I've never been into that shit."

"Then what?"

"The casinos. You just came from there. I control many VIP rooms. And you're not going to like this, pretty boy. But loan sharking." He half-grinned. "I don't call it that, though. I call it money lending with a high interest rate. Has a nicer ring to it, doesn't it? I also run a similar business in the good old US of A. I'm intercontinental."

I coughed. "And how does Jack fit into this?"

"He doesn't. Jack has his own business in Vancouver. You know that. He's content to make ninety million a year laundering. You and Jillian will likely split a billion when he dies. Plus what you'll get from me. You and my nephews. And Jada."

"I heard that!" Jackie shouted from the bedroom. "Thanks, Kow Gong."

Tony smiled. "Don't go bumping me off, Jackie. I have a bump-off clause in my will and the idiot who tries that gets nothing."

Jackie came to the doorway. "Could you just have a heart attack then? Now?"

"Who's been teaching you such thinking? You used to be a nice boy."

"Amster. I'm Amster's man now. I'm all Amster's fault."

"Go away. I want to talk to your Amster."

Jackie retreated to watch TV.

I poured a couple of whiskies. "You laid a lot on me, Tony. Personally, I was more comfortable in the dark."

"Well, you can't stay there. Jack's life is at stake. You need to know everything. Won is moving into the casinos. And she wants me out. She had a letter couriered to my hotel."

"Why? You and I both know she'll kill him anyway. Yes, he's Richard's father. But Richard is gone. And she's Richard's mother. Whether you move out of the casinos or not. Doesn't matter. Jack is dead."

"Now you understand. She'll hold him until she doesn't need him anymore and then he's done."

"But I thought they were still in love. Won told Willy when he was here on the lamb that she still loved Jack and always would. And I'm sure he still loves her."

"Jack got too curious about his new son. As you know he's travelled to Beijing for more than thirty years on business and has contacts here of his own. He was looking into Richard's operation and discovering things he didn't like. And I'm not so sure he didn't learn about Won's position on the crime ladder. He alluded to certain things. Just never came out and said it."

"That makes sense. During my last conversation with Richard he said that Jack was sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. Richard knew that Jack was tracking him."

"Making it easier for Won to detach. And after Richard died well, her heart likely died along with him. Not that she had one before, I'm told. But she did love her son. And that's why you have to act fast, Charlie. I can make some moves, leading her to believe that I'm pulling out. To buy you some time. But not much. It's a no-win situation for my little Jackie Jones. The boy I raised." A tear rolled down his cheek.

It was almost inconceivable. I mean, one of the biggest crime bosses on the Pacific Rim held at bay by Jack? But I was thinking fast. Someone knew Jack's whereabouts and that someone just might lead me to him. Willy's goons knew Gap-tooth Zu. "I'll need Willy's help."

"I thought as much. And I'm depending on the two of you to bring Jack home. In one piece."

After Tony had gone Jackie and I zoomed in on Reynolds who was again transferring money between the same two accounts.

"He's stealing again, Jackie."

"Maybe not. Can't be sure. No names."

"There must be a way to get names. You have the account numbers and you know the bank. What if you were to go to that bank and pretend to be Reynolds? Say your computer is down and you need to see your statements. If there's only one account, as I believe, you'll see the money coming in. That will be one part of the equation. Then we'll have to figure out who he's stealing it from."

"I don't have Weynolds' ID."

"Well, let's make some up. Print stuff off. You can talk your way into anything, Wildman."

His bottom lip dropped. "Why do I have to do it? Why don't you go? You do the dirty work."

I smiled. "I should go. Since I look so much like Reynolds. But I'm leaving in a few minutes. Going out of town."

"I don't want to be Weynolds. I don't wike Weynolds."

"Tough shit. Suck it up. Just do it."

Mini clicked her little red heels into the room and headed for the bar where she poured a healthy double scotch. "Albert was supposed to be back today, wasn't he?"

"Yes, Mama Mia. He was supposed to be back."

"It's not like Albert to take an extra day."

"No, Mama Mia. It's not. He must be making a lot of money."

She cocked her head. "Well, he'd better be making it for me. Or he's in big trouble." She carried her drink to her room but didn't stay there long. Soon she came screeching back. "The hotel in Macau called. Albert gave our suite as his contact number. Albert Noe is dead!"

# Chapter Twelve

ALBERT NOE HAD NOT DIED pleasantly. No, Albert got his throat slashed in his sleep. And it wasn't over fresh money because the loot he won at the casinos was locked away in a secure hotel safe. Even before I left for the fortress, Mini was making plans to fly to Macau and claim what she believed to be rightfully hers. Two hundred-fifty grand, give or take.

Willy and I entered the library to find Shorty Poo pouring drinks, whisky for me and a Coke for my bud.

"Thanks, Shorty," I said smiling. "Thanks you ugly little prick."

Shorty bowed.

Willy laughed. "Are you ever going to forgive him?"

"For what? For kidnapping and trying to kill me? Not likely."

Shorty spoke to Willy in Chinese before leaving the room. "He says he's starting to like you, Hampton."

"You liar. What did he really say?"

"He said that you're an arrogant asshole."

For the next few hours we talked strategy. Our mission, should we choose to accept it, was not a piece of cake. We agreed that Gap-tooth Zu was a person of interest, being Won's nephew and a powerhouse of his own, it was just a matter of tracking him down. Although King and Freddie likely knew things they weren't about to cough up information to nanhal, the boy. Willy agreed to again go through Richard's desk and, if all else failed, to get the goons drunk and loosen their tongues. Plan C was to bribe all three with Jack's money. I left things with his brilliant mind.

Back at the hotel, Jackie had returned from the bank with papers and a big smile on his face. He waved the statements in my face. "This costs extra, Amster!"

I pulled a wad of bills from my pocket. "How much?"

"Wots. You pay me wots."

I peeled off a few bills and a few more until I reached a smile on his face. He handed me two bank statements, one in English. "So, he is stealing. Everyday. He's scamming someone for five grand a day."

Jackie beamed. "I did good, didn't I, Amster?"

"You did. And now we have to figure out who he's scamming. The little crook."

"Who do you think?"

"I'm thinking Richard. Reynolds worked for Richard, you remember, and would know a lot about his investments."

"Wichard just paid Wenolds to hack."

"That's it exactly. So, why would he not hack into Richard's financial information? You know he could. Reynolds is one of the most proficient computer hackers in the world."

"But Wichard is dead."

"Yes, he is. But here's the thing. Willy found a number of bank accounts in Richard's desk that weren't mentioned in his will. So, they're very likely still active. And what was Albert doing with Richard's investment portfolio? That's an active account, too. Although Albert was scamming off the top, he also had to be making money for Richard in order to do that. Even if his portfolio stayed flat."

Jackie's eyes grew wide. "Does Abet know Wichard?"

"Not to my knowledge. The possible connection could be Reynolds. Maybe Reynolds recommended Albert when he and Richard were on good terms and working together. Since Albert invested for his mom."

"You good, Amster. You can figure things out."

"It's my job, Jackie. But I can't be sure about Richard. It's only a theory. And it's a matter of theories in the end. Only one of them has to be right."

Jada was not well that night so I grabbed a bag of take-out from the lounge in my hotel. We curled up in her big soft bed to eat hot and sour soup and watch TV.

"There are things you need to know, Charlie. Things I need to say." She looked beautiful in a soft pink sweater and skinny pink pants. Her dark hair was tied up in a knot.

I pawed her face. "There's nothing you need to tell me. I love you. You love me. Nothing else matters."

"But it does. I've been involved in things that aren't popular. And I've made enemies. On both sides of the law."

"I told you that it doesn't matter. We'll get through whatever it is."

"I need you to listen. Can you do that, please?"

"Not without another whisky." I re-filled her champagne flute too.

"It's not only about my work against human trafficking although that's been extensive. It's my work against the government and the imprisonment and killing of our citizens for petty crimes. Innocent people are killed for the harvesting of their organs. It's criminal. But huge money is paid by individuals in wealthy countries for a kidney or a liver or a lung and our people are dying because of it. It's a system involving hospitals, doctors and nurses and although the government thinks they're cracking down, they can't control such a vast and heinous enterprise. Too much money is being made. And too many people are sacrificed to support it. I'm on a wanted list for my activist activities in this area. And I'm on another wanted list for my activism against human trafficking. So, you see, my love. I'm not in a very good place."

I slipped my arm around her waist and held her tight. "I'll take you away from all of this. I'm leaving soon and I want you to come with me. I want you to be my wife."

She smiled. "You're very noble. But you're scaring me. What would I do in Canada?"

"Well, aside from cleaning and cooking for me? I'm looking for someone to do that, by the way."

She elbowed me. "Good luck."

"There are causes in my country you could take up. My surrogate sister saves a lot of trees. You could help."

"Right. I'm more into saving people, thanks."

"How about grizzly bears? The activists are bent on saving them too."

"I'm glad people are saving grizzly bears. And trees. Both are noble causes. But I'm firmly rooted here." She looked at me with big sad eyes. "Our time is now, Charlie. This is our time. There won't be another time and we both know it. I've said it before and I'll say it again. We are natural mates. We belong together. For now. There's a big for now in the cards and we'd better make the most of it."

We made love all night.

The call from Willy came too early for my liking but since Jada had to also work we quickly showered and hurried out the door. At the fortress I was met at the door by the smiling cat, Tweedle Dee. Or was it Tweedle Dum? It didn't much matter.

"I got them drunk," Willy whispered, between giggles. "They were hilarious. They ended up singing."

I could picture it, actually. "Could they carry a tune?"

"Not in a boxcar. They were awful. The dogs howled. And the outside guards came to the door to see what was the matter. I sent them away with a bag of booze. We had a big party here last night."

"You didn't drink!"

"I did too. And I turned redder than a tomato. But I didn't even care it was so much fun."

I followed him to the library. "I'm envious."

He showed me the Willy white teeth and tossed his shiny hair. "I'm not sure I should tell you this but I'm going to anyway. King, Freddie and Shorty made up a song about you."

I reached for the double whisky and took a chair. "Great."

"They really like you."

"Sure."

He convulsed. "They feel sorry for you because you're ugly. And they want to give you a little plastic surgery. Re-shape your nose. And your balls.

"Nice."

"And they want to bring you down a peg or two by cutting off your legs."

"And you liked this song?"

"Yeah. I haven't had much fun since I've been here." He couldn't stop giggling. "You should have seen them, Hampton. They were falling down laughing, each one trying to outdo the other. Insulting you more. It could have been your eulogy."

"I don't find that particularly funny."

"You wouldn't since you never lighten up."

"I suppose you were singing too."

"A little. I added a little something."

"I can hardly wait."

"Well, I was a bit drunk so it wasn't very nice. Forgive me?"

"No. You joined the pissing on Charlie parade. You're supposed to be my friend."

"Don't get your shirt in a knot. I sang something benign. I just sang, 'And his farts stink like skunk too'. They rolled on the floor laughing. They liked the word skunk."

It was kind of funny. "Ok. You've had your party. Did you learn anything?"

He lowered his voice. "Zu's son is an outside guard. Zu comes to visit him on Thursdays. He'll be here tomorrow night."

# Chapter Thirteen

HOLY MOLY. THAT'S WHAT I told Willy after the two of us had been tied up and stashed in a shed for almost twenty-four hours. Could we not have done things better?

"It was your brilliant idea, Hampton. Sure, we'll follow Zu down a lone country road and he won't notice the headlights in his rearview mirror. And the boys in the big armored vehicle following behind us didn't suspect a thing. I mean, how many soldiers were in that truck anyway? A hundred?"

I thought about it. "I didn't have time to count. You know. With the AK 47s staring me in the face. But I'd say at least six. And another four in the next truck. And maybe four more in the truck after that. Off hand, I'd say we got a lot of respect."

"Yeah. We're pretty dangerous, alright. I don't even know Kung Fu."

"I know a little. I've watched Albert Noe often enough on a monitor. You just kick everything in sight. Did I tell you that Albert is dead?"

"No. But I'm not surprised. He was into a lot of shit."

"Care to elaborate?"

"You know most of it because you spied on him. And I know most of it because I worked for Richard and, later on, Reynolds. Albert was scamming both Richard and Mini. It was just a matter of time. A matter of who found out first."

"Well, Richard is dead."

"There's still the activity in the secret bank accounts and investment portfolio."

"I know. There's another active shooter."

"I don't like that word shooter. Not with all those rifles outside."

Eventually they came to take us to their leader. We were then pushed and shoved through dense undergrowth towards a sprawling mansion with many windows and few lights. Willy got preferential treatment, being Asian, I figured, while I got the occasional butt of a rifle in the gut. Once inside we were taken to a spacious office containing a red lacquer desk with cabriole legs. It was elegant and long. Behind it sat the commanding presence of a woman with her back to us. She spoke perfect English.

"Please be seated, gentlemen."

Two husky guards stuffed Willy and I into matching armchairs.

"Thanks, pal," I mumbled.

Willy shot me a look. It said, 'If you want to stay alive don't get goofy.'

Won Chang turned her chair around. "Nice to see you again, Willy Chan. We had such a nice visit when you were here in Beijing last time."

Willy politely smiled.

"And nice to see you again, too, Charlie. Since you so rudely left my table at the Millennium Beijing. Should I call you Hamster, though? I think Jack would like that."

"Why don't we ask him?"

"Oh, my, Charlie! You are in a rush. Jack isn't ready to see you just yet. He's a little indisposed." She looked stunning in a black and gold cheongsam and with her knotted hair held back by a long gold needle. "But how rude of me to be dressed for dinner while the two of you look a bit ruffed up. My people will see to it that you are clean and presentable before joining me at my table. You see, it isn't often I get to dine with two such handsome gentlemen, one a detective who betrayed my son and the other a computer hacker who stole from him. And ultimately from me, of course. I can hardly wait." With that she stood and exited the room through a back door.

I whistled in the shower. Why not? It didn't matter that I couldn't whistle I just wanted to make noise. Was it the whistle of death? Could be. I bet myself against serious odds that Shorty could whistle. He looked like the whistling type to me. Or whistle blower, surely. Someone had tipped Zu off. Likely all three. The clothes laid out on the bed had once belonged to Richard, I felt, or the pants would have come to my knees. I wore them nevertheless.

Won sat at the head of an antique zitan table, which could well accommodate twenty-four, motioning Willy to her right, me to her left. It was a formal dining room with red wallpaper and heavy draperies. The table had been formally laid too with three place settings and wine glasses to accompany each course. Had it been a happier occasion I might have been hungry. It also came with wine stewards, not soldiers. Won began the dinner by proposing a toast.

"To my son, Richard. Whom I dearly miss. And I shall leave no stone unturned until his killer or killers are found."

We clinked. We didn't want Richard dead either. Why was she blaming us? I was tired of the bullshit. "Richard and I were not enemies, Ms. Chang. We were adversaries. Big difference."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really! Then why did you turn his heroin shipment over to the authorities? The shipment that Willy had stolen from him, I might add."

I cleared my throat. "Well, basically, I'm against heroin. Or drugs of any kind. I see so much of the destruction on the streets of Vancouver every day. Dead people. People almost dead. Lives shattered. Families destroyed. And I do understand that Richard saw it as a business. He didn't see it from my point of view. We were never going to see eye to eye."

She raised the other eyebrow. "And what about the artifacts, Mr. Chan?"

Willy blushed. "You knew about them?"

"Not immediately. Not until they reached California. You know we have business there because you developed it for us. Richard trusted you and you stole from him."

Willy sighed. "You're right. I did. But I didn't see it as theft because Richard never knew about the artifacts in the shipment. Only Leo knew. And then I knew because I hacked into his accounts as did Reynolds Woo. Reynolds and I never were after the drugs. We were after the artifacts hidden in the heroin."

"But you sold them. You owe me money. They were in my shipment and they belonged to me."

Willy looked her straight in the eye. "Well, you won't get the money if I'm dead."

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, I don't plan to kill you right away. You're just one more hostage to dangle in front of your uncle. If he backs off the casinos I might free you. After you've repaid what you owe me, of course."

I held my breath.

"I'm trying to think of a good reason to keep you, Charlie, but quite frankly I can't. You mean nothing to me. And I firmly believe, given your interest in both Jack and Willy, that if I release you, you would try to do me harm. Sorry. I wish I had better news."

"Me too."

She pushed back her chair. "Finish your meals, boys. I'm calling it a day." In the doorway she turned back to me. "Don't worry, Charlie. Your little activist friend will be with you soon."

Having lost our meager appetites, Willy and I followed behind her. Outside the dining room we were met by two rifles and escorted away, Willy to a room somewhere in the house and me back to the shed to be shot. I passed a few more rifles during this journey and at the shed I received a rifle butt to the gut. Big mistake. Being bigger and stronger than the gunman I wrestled the rifle away and smacked him on the head. He had a thick head so it took more than just one smack but soon I was in the bushes moving quietly through. I smacked two more heads, that I remember, but it may have been more. Once inside the back door I inched my way to the far end of the hall where I last saw Willy. Of course! It was the door to the cellar, a quiet place to store valuable people; hostages. I tried several doors before being confronted by two guards at the end of a hallway that I unfortunately had to shoot. I felt bad, but not for long, since Willy needed a gun. Soon I heard,

"Hampton? Is that you?"

"Hamster! It is you!"

"Stand back. I'm kicking the fucking door down."

No time for hugs. Soon Willy and I had Jack between us and were slithering up the stairs. "They'll have heard gunfire," I warned. "They'll be waiting."

"I don't have a gun," Jack whined.

I patted his shoulder. "Good thing. You'd only shoot yourself. Just stay behind me."

It started at the top of the stairway when the door inched open and a rifle poked through. I fired through the door. Silence. We stepped over a body. At the front door we were confronted by voices in the upstairs hallway. "Shoot them, Zu!" a woman screamed. "They're getting away."

I turned just in time to pick Zu off before he could pick off me. He toppled over the railing. But we weren't finished yet. Won also had a rifle which she aimed at Jack. "You're the cause of all of this!" she screeched. "Because of you I had to give up my son. I couldn't raise him as an unwed mother or I would have been disgraced. So I went away and had him in the country and gave him to my brother."

"But I looked for you!" Jack called back. "I tried to find you. And I didn't know about Richard. I would have married you. And Richard would have had a father. You didn't let me."

"You were too late. I'd already decided on a new life. A life of wealth and privilege and I didn't care how I got it. I sacrificed. I did things I'm not proud of. And it's all because of you." She shot a round that mostly hit the wall and Jack's arm.

Willy took the stairs two at a time. He hit her hard and sent her to the ground in a crumpled heap. The rest is history. We escaped in the armored vehicle that had pursued us and all the way into town we talked about going home. I drove while Willy attended to Jack's flesh wound. But I wasn't happy.

"Is this going to be a regular thing now, Jack? You getting kidnapped and Willy and I having to risk our lives rescuing you?"

He giggled. "I hope not. You're not that good at it. I've been shot twice."

"Gag him, Willy. Let's just drive back to the city in peace."

# Chapter Fourteen

WILLY'S DAYS AT THE FORTRESS were done. Since Richard's boys had betrayed him he didn't like them anymore. It wasn't even about trust, he told me, as I dropped him and Jack at the _Millennium Beijing._ He'd never trusted them and had worked in the same organization for ten-plus years. They had hurt his feelings and that he could not forgive. __ He walked into the hotel shaking his shiny dark hair.

Back at my hotel I headed for the shower where I stayed for half an hour. It hadn't been a fun day. I wanted to talk to Jada but it was the middle of the night so I decided to let her sleep and to pour myself a drink instead. Jackie was snoring. During his last check-up in Vancouver the doctor told him he needed to get his tonsils and adenoids out. And if he kept up that horrible racket I'd yank them out myself. Alternatively, I closed his bedroom door. Soon someone was shaking me.

"Amster! Are you going to sleep all day?"

I checked my watch. Almost ten a.m.? And still in my chair. "Order breakfast, Wildman. Tell them to send up the works."

Over food and hot coffee we zeroed in on Reynolds who was watching a video of Arianna Grande.

"Well, look at that, Jackie! He's actually smiling."

"He's smiling wots now. Sometimes he even waughs. Until Mini comes back. He's even playing poker with the guards."

"Gee. Reynolds smiling and laughing? And playing poker? That's hard to take. You'll miss him when we go home."

"When?"

"Tomorrow. Jack needs a day to rest before we load him on a plane. We'll leave later in the day." And maybe, if I was a lucky guy, Jada might change her mind about coming along. She'd be at work now and not able to return my texts but I was planning a romantic evening in my mind. "Reynolds and Mini will be leaving soon too. Have you heard anything on that?"

"Nope. Mini's back today. She's the boss."

"No kidding."

Later I stopped at the flower shop in the lobby where a chatty florist arranged several orchids, Jada's favorite flower, in a bowl. They were proposal orchids. Or begging orchids. I was going to do whatever I had to do to bring her onside. Furthermore, I was going to use the key she'd given me and surprise her when she arrived home. Little did I know that I would be the one surprised. Jada was in bed. She was in bed with a lot of blood from a slit throat.

Willy was not about to let me return to Won's mansion alone. Jada was his cousin. During his family's frequent trips to Beijing they'd played together as children, along with several older cousins, three that were killed in the Tiananmen Square massacre. His family had a sad history and Willy wasn't afraid to die. Furthermore, we were in possession of an armored vehicle and stolen AK 47s, assault rifles he'd always wanted to try. We arrived just after dark, parked the vehicle, and walked the last hundred metres.

Personally, I don't like to kill but I will if I have to. Willy, on the other hand, wasn't afraid to kill. Willy wasn't afraid of much. We took the silent approach, slipping around the back. Unlike her son, Won didn't have dogs. I guessed she believed an army of soldiers to be adequate protection. We started off by killing two, only because they tried to kill us first. Once inside, well, sorry, but we killed two more. At the top of the stairs I kicked in Won's bedroom door. How did I know it was her room? Because I'd seen her come out of it the night before.

She was sitting on the side of her bed in her robe, unsure of what to do. I grabbed her arm.

"You're coming with us, Ms. Chang. Glad you have your slippers on."

As was our plan, I led the way, using Won as my shield. Willy backed us up.

"Don't shoot!" Won cried to the guard rushing into the hallway. "Stay away! Tell the others to stay away."

Buddy backed off.

"She'll be fine," I told buddy, as he lowered his gun. "We're just going to take a little trip."

Outside the backdoor things were dark. Good plan, because the flood lights were on the front. It was easy dragging Won because she didn't weigh much. Nor did she complain. She didn't want to die either. Funny that. How people that kill other people don't want to be killed. We were almost to the vehicle when shots rang out close behind. There's always one, isn't there? Willy let go a fusillade into the night. Silence. But Won wasn't running alongside me anymore. Mainly because Won had taken a bullet to her head.

I wasn't quite finished in Beijing. There was something I'd promised Jada and I needed to follow through. Before I left her apartment on that horrid last night I removed the book she told me about hidden in her underwear drawer. In it were names and phone numbers and a written confession. Richard was the father of her son.

Willy wasn't going to be left behind. No, he wanted to meet this new cousin he hadn't known about and would accompany me to Hefanfhou, a sixty-kilometer ride, to find him.

"What's the scoop here, bud?" he asked along the way. "There's something you're not telling me."

"You're right. There is. I've offered to buy him."

"What? Are you nuts?"

"Probably. But his biological parents are dead and his adoptive parents are poor. They sold him before to Jada then stole the money and kept the kid. This time they won't get that lucky. Tony made the call on my behalf. They're going to have him ready. No kid no money. I'm a big strong boy. With a Gloc 9. And yes, I always travel with two."

He smiled. "Me too. I'm prepared."

"Tony said they were happy to get rid of him. That he's a lot of trouble. And doubly happy to be getting paid for it."

We pulled up in front of a shabby bungalow.

Willy screwed up his face. "I still don't get it. How are you going to raise a son on your own? You don't even like children."

"That's where your uncle and Jack come in. They're going to raise him. He's Jack's grandchild after all. They can't wait to torture him just like they tortured me."

Soon a screen door flew open and a boy carrying a suitcase came sauntering down the walk.

"My god!" Willy shouted. "It's little Richard Chang!"

# Chapter Fifteen

BACK AT THE HOTEL, JACKIE and I were packing up while Tang Mi watched with wide eyes. Jackie didn't like him. Not because Tang Mi was a bad kid but because Jackie was afraid of being replaced.

"I'm smarter than that boy. That boy is stupid. And I'm good with a gun."

"That's not very polite, Jackie. You have to be nice to Tang Mi. You don't want to hurt his feelings."

He smiled at Tang Mi. "You're a dog. A dirty dog. I'm going to wipe your face with my shoes."

Tang Mi smiled back.

Jackie howled. "I can say anything I want to Tang Mi because he only knows Chinese."

I swatted him on the head. "Don't let Jack hear you saying bad things to his grandson. Unless you like broken kneecaps."

I was just about to unhook the monitor when Mini came puffing to the bar. "Well, I settled that score, Wen Wen. I collected the money from the hotel safe in Macau. It was mine anyway. He was winning it to pay me back. It's in the bank now and things are done here. I've ordered the private jet and we're going home tonight."

He nodded. "That's good, Mama Mia. I'm ready to go home."

"I'm glad Albert is dead. He was stealing from me. When I went to the bank in Macau I had time to review my statements. And do you know what? He was stealing from me. Five thousand American dollars every single day."

Jackie and I convulsed.

So, we were all going home too, this time on Jack's private jet. Unfortunately, Tang Mi got bullied into sitting across from his new granddad.

Whiskey glass in hand Jack hollered, "Jack. Can you say Jack? Jack should be your first English word."

Tang Mi said nothing.

Tony came forward to slap Jack on the head. "You don't have to holler at him, Jack. You're scaring him. He has perfectly good hearing." He turned to Tang Mi and spewed a string of garble.

Willy was sitting across from me. "He's making excuses for Jack. He's saying that Jack is deaf and that's why he hollers. And that he's a little senile too so often he doesn't make sense. Especially when he drinks which is all the time."

I laughed. "God, he looks like Richard, doesn't he? It's scary."

"He does. But when we get home we need to give Tang Mi a choice. He may want to go by Tommy, his English name."

"I like it. Tommy Chang. It's powerful."

"Let's hope not too much. We don't want him turning into his dad."

Later in the evening Jackie brought Tang Mi to the seats across from us and started to chatter. Obviously, the subject was someone I knew and loved because the boy kept staring at me, mouth wide open.

"Alright, Willy. What's Jackie saying?"

"Well, don't shoot the messenger, ok?"

I nodded.

"He's saying that you suck at tennis. He says you have a pocketful of play money and if you hire him for a job you'll pay with that. And phony cheques. Always insist on cash, Jackie says. Cash is the first thing you need to learn in English so Amster can't cheat you."

"Nice."

"There's more. He says that you act like a big shot but you're not. You're just a big phony. Amster will tell you that he's going to break your fucking neck but don't worry. He's not strong enough. He shoots people though. A lot of people so don't get on his bad side."

"Jackie!" I hollered. "You're scaring him!"

Jackie grinned from ear to ear. "That's the idea. I don't want him taking my job."

"He's thirteen, Wildman. He'll be in school for four more years."

"I don't want him even thinking about it. Get it, Amster?"

Willy spoke to Tang Mi in Chinese and Tang Mi grinned.

"What did you say?"

"I said that Jackie was in a car wreck so he only has half a brain. Don't believe a single word he says."

With the lights of Vancouver in the distance I started to cry.

I had a fever. I was lying at home in my own bed and the sheets were wet. I tried to wake up but I kept falling asleep and dreaming about the beautiful Asian woman swirling towards me in a feathery dress. It was a strapless dress with black and white feathers and a full skirt with crinolines. I tried to reach for her but she kept twirling away, smiling and waving good-bye. I tried to call out to her, to tell her to come back, but I couldn't say a word. I was paralyzed.

Sometime later I heard the doctor say, "He's made it through the toughest part. He's had a rough go and it takes a toll. It's been three days now and the intravenous fluids are helping. New drugs too. He'll need to stay on a day or two. And then we'll see how it goes."

Julia asked in a soft voice, "You think it's viral?"

"Possibly. He ran a high fever. But he's taken an emotional hit too. It's likely a combination."

"It's my fault," Jack said in a broken voice. "I sent him there. He's been through hell and it's all my fault."

Willy pinched my toe. "He'll survive. It's hard to kill a rhino. This boy has tough skin."

I opened my eyes. "You got that right. I'm not dead yet."

And I have to tell you there were a few wet faces.

Later I learned that Jack and Shoeshine had arrived at my condo where Donald the Doorman had ushered them in. An ambulance ride ensued. Admittedly, I'd experienced a few ambulance rides in the past but never one I remembered. Maybe I'd order a nice ambulance ride home.

Not much had changed at the seedy bar on _East Hastings_ _Street._ Only the barkeep. Gregorian was back and the gorgeous redhead was nowhere to be seen. "Where's the tall drink of water?" I asked. "Where's freckle face? You're a bit disappointing I have to say." Greg, whom I used to call Barbell and Dumbbell before we buried the hatchet, was about five-and-a-half feet tall and about the same width in muscle. He wore his short hair blond and his eyes pale blue.

"She's on holiday."

"When will she be back?"

"Never. As far as you're concerned."

"What. You don't think I'll be here?"

"Oh, I don't doubt it. It's just that I told her you had herpes."

"And how would you know that?"

"Cause I got it from you. As did half the women in this town."

We laughed.

"Thanks pal. Now are you going to crack a fresh bottle of CC?"

"Show me the money."

I threw down fifty bucks on Jack. "That will buy me a couple and you a couple. And a couple for the biker at the end of the bar. Then you can fill your usual mickey and water down the rest."

He grinned. "You know too much, Charlie. It could get you into trouble."

"It already has. Many times."

Biker in the polka dot bandanna waved to me and I waved back. He was chatting up a plump bleached blond so I knew he'd be a while. Didn't matter because Robert Coppilani had maneuvered his big brown horse coat into the bar. He slapped me on the back.

"Nice to see you, son."

It wasn't my fault that I'd forgotten my cane at home and looked about twelve years old. My gorgeous face didn't help. "You too, dad."

Robocop smiled. "Got out of the hospital, did you?"

So Peter Selic, the crooked cop, had a big mouth. "I'm sitting here, aren't I?"

"I hear you just walked out. Pulled the intravenous and left in your hospital gown. Is that right?"

"Something like that. Did I break the law?"

He looked at me with squinty eyes and along a crooked nose. "You're an idiot, Charlie. Who do you think you're going to help while you're half dead? You should be in bed."

"You're right. I should. New topic." I waved to Gregorian. "Crack a new CC and bring my friend a double. I'll take one of those too and have one yourself." I turned to my friend. "Your hair has gone white, Robo. And your mustache too. Did you have a bad scare?"

He laughed. "My hair has been white for ten years, Charlie. My mustache too. You caused it. You and your crooked dad, Jack. And that wacko tree-saving sister. I hear Marco Midolo is taking her case. He won't be able to keep her out of jail, though. Breech of probation, removal of electronic tagging, trespassing, etcetera. The list is as long as my arm. She's going to do time."

Well, that was Robo. He'd written a book called _Don't Break the Law_ and although he self-published it, he had yet to sell a copy. Had he called it _Break the Law_ he might have stood a chance. "As you know I have no use for Marco Midolo, Robo. "But let's face it, he's tricky. The guy doesn't lose. And in Jillian's case, I sincerely hope he continues his winning streak. She's just a silly girl. But her heart's in the right place. She's worried about the future of our planet, rightly so. She just goes about it a bit radically."

"A bit? They don't throw protesters in jail for being a bit radical. A lot radical, yes. The courts are tired of her so I'd be worried if I were you."

"I'm more worried about Marco Midolo getting his clutches into her. I don't want him in my family."

"Because you want her for yourself?"

"I used to think so. But China changed me. I'm not the same person anymore."

Robo stood up. "Speaking of China, the coastguard is on alert. Something about another drug shipment. Do you know anything about that, Charlie?"

"No. I don't."

"What about your new brother? He's into that shit."

"Richard is dead."

"How do you know?"

"I saw him in the morgue."

"How long ago?"

"Well, I've lost track of time but I'd say about two, maybe three, weeks ago."

"It takes longer than that to transport, depending on the route. He could have been involved."

I thought about it. "He could have."

"Well, your biker friend is on his way over so maybe see what the longshoremen know." With that he took his big brown coat out the door.

Soon I received a slap on the back hard enough to knock me off my barstool.

"How ya doing, Copper?"

"Not bad, Biker. Where's that new bandanna I bought you? You've gone back to the old ratty one I see."

He straddled the stool beside me. "The broads like this hat. It's a conversation piece. I mean, anybody can own a new bandana. But how many guys get to wear one that's twenty years old? They love me and they love my hat. Isn't that a hoot, son?"

I guess I'm a lucky guy to have so many dads. I wondered what people would say if I got myself a walker. 'Look at that boy with a walker. Do you think he stole it?'

Biker had kind blue eyes, a bristly face, and was missing the middle finger of his thick right hand. "You've been sick, I hear. Feeling better?"

"No. I have this feeling I'm going to be sick for a long time."

"That's too bad. You're too young to be so gaunt. I can see right through you. And I'm going to order you a big fat steak sandwich. With French fries. And I'll force feed you if I have to. Enough with this nonsense."

I smiled. Old home week. It didn't get better than that. And according to Biker a suspicious cargo had changed hands in Freemantle and was now en route to Vancouver Port. My head was spinning. Cargo from whom? Cargo to Whom? Was that little computer-hacking idiot-savant up to no good again? Good thing I still held a two-year lease on the apartment below Reynolds _the Wrap_ Woo. The bad news? Jackie Chan might have little more to do than watch Mini drink.

I told him as much the following morning at Jack's house. We were having breakfast at a banquette in the kitchen overlooking the city and the sea below. At my request, Maya was serving special crepes that were a mini Jianbing, with a swirled egg, herbs, her own special sauce slathered on, and a crispy fried cracker. Jackie and Tang Mi were crunching away.

"I'm moving in here," Jackie said with big happy eyes. "I'm sharing a bedroom downstairs with the kid. The huge room. We're getting two new beds. And a jumbo TV. Julia is decorating."

"That's great. Bob and Joe will miss you."

He giggled. "No they won't. A girl is moving in. And they're fighting over her. Bob has a black eye and she isn't even there yet. Isn't that funny?"

"I suppose. They need to get another girl so they each have one."

He cocked his head. "That's a good idea. I'll send them a text."

"So, why are you moving in here, Wildman?"

"Jack hired me to teach Tang Mi English. And Amster? He pays with real money."

"Jack has real money. That's the difference between him and me. So, Tang Mi. Have you learned any English words yet?"

Jackie whispered in his ear.

Tang Mi lit up like a sparkle candle. He nodded.

"Say it," Jackie ordered.

Tang Mi beamed. "Fuck off, Amster."

Later in the day I arrived at the warehouse for the cocktail hours and reached for the tumbler of whisky spinning towards me across the desk.

"I'm taking Jackie. I need him."

Jack struck an attitude. "Do you want a bidding war? I have no problem with that."

"I had him first."

"And I had him last. Still do."

"I'll make you a trade. I talked to Billy Chan today. He says he can teach Tang Mi more than Jackie can. He says he's better at tennis and he can turn Tang Mi into a pro. Beat that."

Jack scratched his chin. "Well, that's hard to beat. I never thought of having a tennis pro in the family. Maybe. Billy is good. But he's a better mugger. Do you think he could teach Tang Mi how to mug with a tennis racquet?"

"You're not funny. A heroin shipment is arriving at the Port within the next few days. I need to track it. I need to determine the source of it and identify the receiver. And in order to do that I need Jackie's help."

"You sound pretty determined. You don't have anything better to do now? Like maybe getting better? You look like shit."

"There's a lot of things still in question and I need to find the answers. Maybe then I'll rest."

"Richard is dead, Hamster."

"And I'm going to find his killer."

# Chapter Sixteen

JACKIE WAS NOT THRILLED ABOUT being stuck with Reynolds again, even a floor away. And this time he threatened to eat the mice we could hear scurrying around in the walls. He'd teach those damn mice a thing or two, he told me, as I reconnected the equipment. They meant nothing other than dinner. He didn't know their names or whether they'd sizzle in a pan. All he knew is that they didn't have to work for a living and he hated them for that. Seriously? What had I done to this boy? I left him to his thoughts on mice and contemplating murder.

At the front doors of 33 Terrace place I straightened my underwear. I'd been in love with Julia Mattingly since I was ten years old and wasn't going to disappoint her now. She met me at the front doors draped in taupe and with her sleek dark hair twisting into a knot.

"Darling! You look just dreadful you know." Her eyes brimmed with concern.

We hugged long and hard.

"The food over there wasn't good, Julia. I mean bird's heads? I hate birds and I especially hate eating them."

She grabbed my hand and led me towards the living room. "Say hello to David, Charlie. He's been missing you."

David tried to flex his muscle. Poor guy. Those aggressive statue cleaners were wearing him away. "If you're good I'll take you to a mason," I called over my shoulder. "But you'll have to behave."

David started to sway. Was that a yes or a no?

In a living room filled with white leather sofas, animal print chairs, and Moroccan treasures, Julia pointed to a chair. "You sit. I pour." She headed for the bar where she filled two crystal tumblers with whiskey. Neat.

"What? You're going straight now?"

She handed me my poison. "I'm getting older and the ice hurts my teeth."

Right. Julia was fifty-three. Not exactly ancient. And she was still at the top of her game, keeping in shape by running between boardrooms closing deals. She peered at me through round hazel eyes. "Do you want to talk about it, Charlie?"

"No."

"I didn't think so but thought it only polite to ask. Willy says she was beautiful."

A lump lodged in my throat. "She was."

"I'm sorry. Truly sorry. And with that said, I'm changing the subject. I understand there's a mysterious drug shipment on its way. Jack and Tony were talking about it last night in the library when I joined them for a nightcap. With Richard and Won both gone it's eerie, really. And Tony talked about a Gap-tooth Zu, as well."

I nodded. "Richard's cousin. Equal to Richard on the org chart. You wouldn't have known it by looking at him, though. Richard was such a handsome devil, tall and commanding, while Zu was a creepy little worm. I guess Richard got his looks from his dad."

Julia choked on her booze. "I'm going to tell Jack you said that. He'll be ragging on it for years."

"Why?"

"Because he's done nothing but torture you since you came to live with us at age ten. He doesn't expect a compliment from you. Just loyalty. If you were to start giving out compliments he'd think you were a sissy. You're smiling but I totally understand your relationship. It's based on bantering. As it is with Jack and Tony. But with all three there's a lot of love behind those fighting words."

I held out my glass. "I'll drink to that."

She stood up. "You would if there was anything left in your glass. Why don't I pour us a refill?" At the bar she turned back to me. "Tony says the drugs were likely in transport before the deaths of all three. However, the question seems to be, destination. Who is on the receiving end?"

"What does Tony think?"

"He doesn't know. And he says it's up to you to find out. That's why he's paying you the big bucks."

"I thought Jack was paying me."

She smiled her cagey cat smile. "And there would be a reason why Jack and Tony suddenly severed their partnership?"

To lighten the mood, on Sunday Jack threw Tang Mi a fourteenth birthday party. To frighten the boy, I figured. By the time I arrived at 33 Terrace Place the house was rocking with the usual assortment of thugs, hookers, West Van cronies and such, with plenty of crooked cops to go around. I was tempted to hang in the foyer with David and chat, about penis reconstruction and such, but Shoeshine wouldn't let me.

"Get in there and encourage your little brother," he ordered. "He looks scared."

"Right. Like I suddenly speak Chinese."

He showed me his huge right fist. "This is Chinese." Then he pushed me into the living room.

I made my way to Tang Mi who welcomed me with a smile. "You suck, Amster."

I gave him the fist pump which he knew in English. "Happy Birthday, Tang Mi."

Jack gave me the hip check. "Big day, Hamster. It's Tang Mi's bar bar barino."

"Bar bar barino? Meaning?"

"How should I know? I just made it up. I guess it's his coming out party."

"Of where? The closet. Has he confided?"

"You don't have to be an asshole. It's his coming of age."

"You never threw me a bar bar barino."

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "I will. When you grow up."

Billy Chan inched his way through the crowd carrying a plate the size of a platter. Oops. It was a platter. He talked with his mouth full. "Amster! Appy. Appy." His big brown eyes glistened.

"Me too, Sharky. Are you taking good care of this kid?" I patted Tang Mi on the head.

Billy held out the platter for Tang Mi to choose. "What do you think, Amster? I'm not going to let him starve."

Highly unlikely with Maya Chan as cook. "You do good, Billy."

He beamed. "I'm teaching him tennis. And English. Tell Amster, Tang Mi."

Tang Mi had a mouthful of Pacific smoked salmon.

"Tell him, Tang Mi," Billy said officiously.

"Ok. Ok. Amster you are full of shit."

Everyone around us roared.

"Thanks, Billy. That's really nice. I'm going to break your fucking neck."

Billy laughed. Tang Mi laughed. Billy said, "Tell Amster what I taught you to say when he says that. When he says he's going to break your fucking neck."

Tang Mi nodded. And he proceeded to spew a lingo no one understood, other than for Willy who was standing nearby. "Translated he said that if bulls were made of bullshit you'd have a ranch, Amster. Not that he knows what it means because he doesn't know ranch. He's just taking lessons from Billy."

Jack broke the huge roar by hollering. He was about to give a speech. Great. Another Shakespearian ordeal. "Friends! Enemies! And freeloaders!" he began. "Welcome to my grandson's bar bar barino."

Shoulders shrugged.

"It's like a bar mitzvah only in English, you clods."

Eyebrows raised.

"Bring him over here, will you, Billy?" Jack hoisted Tang Mi to a barstool. "This boy is my flesh and blood. I am his only family now and he is precious to me. He is near and dear to my heart. He is everyone's responsibility. You are all responsible to see that he is loved and protected. Protected being the operative word. Do you get that, Hamster?" His eyes drilled a hole through my head. "This boy is your family and your responsibility."

Why? Because I was the only man in the room under ninety? I nodded. Sammy in the Tree was a hundred and ten but could still shimmy up a tree faster than a squirrel. Skid the Mark had lost his eyesight but continued to truck and cause unprecedented accidents in the lower mainland. They were going to catch him the day Peter stopped supplying him with stolen trucks, we all thought. Hughie the Hopeful had overdosed on Viagra but quit the stuff after his eighty-eight-year old wife died of exhaustion. Hughie's little brother, Bob Along, was still working from home, a bit of a stretch for a forklift driver. Bob Along was the baby of Jack's gang at eighty-three. Except for Billy the Bookie, a kid at seventy-three. Billy drove a Lamborghini and was known for picking up girls and keeping them.

Jack cleared his throat. "I'm now going to turn things over to Willy for a ceremony."

Willy came forward carrying a little bowl. "Tang Mi." He sprinkled a few drops of water on his head. "I now pronounce you Tommy. Thomas Richard Chang."

The roof came down.

Well, first of all I had to forgive myself for getting sick and not being consulted on this ceremony, although I approved one hundred percent. Thomas Richard Chang was a powerful name, a name deserved by Tang Mi. I looked forward to watching him grow and develop into the man he would become, knowing full well there would come a day when, as Richard's son, he'd be coming after me.

Jillian came forward dragging Marco Midolo behind. "Hampton! You're looking a bit sick." She was so damn beautiful, with her huge hazel eyes and her wild blond curls springing everywhere. "Did they not give you a blood transfusion where you were?"

"They ran out."

Marco held out his hand. "Time to mend fences, don't you think, Charlie? Since we've both got this girl's best interests at heart."

I hated this Dr. Zhivago with his glassy black eyes and supercilious smile. "No. I don't think so. If it's alright with you I'll pass."

Jillian's mouth fell open. "You're supposed to care about me! You know I'm going to trial."

I nodded. "I care about you." With that I turned and walked away.

# Chapter Seventeen

THE FOLLOWING MORNING I TOOK the stairs to the second floor of my Denman Street office two at a time. Once inside I snatched a bottle of spring water and cuffed Robert the Plant. Robert was, and still is, a sprawling rubber plant that consumes an entire wall behind my desk. "How are you doing this fine morning, Robert? I've got your favorite drink."

"Better than you," Robert said. "Once Jack gets hold of you."

Tony Chan was standing in the doorway giggling his chauffeur cap off. "You looked pretty funny just then, Charlie. Did you think that Robert had learned to talk back?"

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." I straightened the lone artwork gracing my office wall, a portrait of a horse with a plaque reading _Chestnut Gelding._ Not bad for something I won at a silent auction for five bucks.

Tony sat down in the lone armchair facing my desk. "How's Ming? Is he talking back too?"

I sat in my shabby office chair and raised my feet to the top of my nice tin desk. "He's only Ming to you."

He smiled. "I know the story. To Asian clients his name is Ming. To Italians his name is Tony. And to an Englishman he's Harry. It's how you start off lying to prospective clients. It's how you build rapport. What's his real name, Charlie? Have you ever given him one?"

"His real name is Mike. It's generic so if I can't figure out a guy right away Mike always works."

His eyes sparkled. "You should likely call him Mike to everyone and quit your damn lying."

"Is there a purpose to this call?"

He rubbed his old grey head. "You know there is. I didn't come here just for fun."

I tried not to laugh. Tony had come to deliver a message that didn't sound like fun. "So?"

"You're being mean, Charlie, and I have to straighten you out."

"Really?" I didn't remember this being mean episode. "Exactly how?"

"You hurt Jillian's feelings."

I almost fell off my chair. "I hurt Jillian's feelings? That's too funny."

"It's not funny. You were rude to her."

"Ok. Let me get this straight. Jillian married me on the beach in Tahiti and although we now know the wedding was a sham, she still married me. And then she dumped me. Even before the reception. But I'm being mean to her? Please!"

He narrowed his brown peepers. "The past is the past. We can't change it. But the present is now. Jillian needs your support. I know you love her and will do everything in your power to help her through this trial. Because if you don't..."

"If I don't?"

"You'll deal with Jack. Just be glad she told me about your rude behavior and not her dad."

Big deep breath. "You're right, Tony. I do love Jillian. But that love has changed in nature. Why? Because I see her differently now. I see her as my little sister."

"Good. Then you'll help her."

"I just can't stand Marco Midolo. I hate his guts."

"This isn't about Marco. It's about Jillian. Suck it up and be in that courtroom for support."

"You'll be there, of course. And Jack."

"You know we won't be. It's not possible. You are our stand-in and we'll hear all about it from you." He screwed up his face. "Oh, I see the look. You're saying that you're swamped right now, with the heroin shipment coming ashore and trying to solve Richard's murder. But you have Jackie at the Woo building so you're not needed there. And you have Willy working twenty-four seven from his condo penthouse, hacking into Richard's and Won's affairs. Gap-tooth Zu's too. And you are needed where?"

"In the courtroom. I've been told. You've spanked me once again."

He left my office smiling.

I armed myself with three good shots of tonic before heading to 33 Terrace Place the next day. Bad enough I had to watch Marco Midolo maul my surrogate sister, I had to transport her like a baby. Of course, Tony Chan was too busy chauffeuring Jack, who was parked at his warehouse office for the day, to do his real job. Resentment oozed from my nostrils. I pulled into the driveway and honked the horn. Be damned if I was going to carry her out and strap her into her car seat. Soon the front door opened and out walked a dowdy librarian wearing a horsetail of hair, a dull green suit, and sensible shoes. A pair of round red glasses framed her eyes.

I leaned over and opened her door. "Does it come with books? The outfit, I mean."

She giggled. "I doubt it will catch the fashion world by storm but it's kind of fun. I ordered it online. I wouldn't be caught dead shopping for something like this in a store."

"It's not like it won't be seen. Reporters will be there, of course. I can't wait to see the before and after shots on e-Talk."

She shot her chin in the air. "It was Marco's idea. He doesn't want me scaring the judge. We've drawn a woman and she's apparently brutal."

"Has she been living in a cave?"

"Why?"

"Jillian! Your picture has been splashed across the papers for years. And never once have you looked like that. She'll know you're playing her. Or trying to play her. You might as well have let the curls rip."

"Well. It's too late now." She smiled at me. "We can only hope she has a penchant for green."

I'm not that fond of courtrooms that smell like shoe polish but in order to get into ours we had to pass through throngs of protesters for both sides – the activists and the anti-activists, all carrying signs.

"That's her!" someone hollered.

"No it isn't. She wouldn't be caught dead looking like that!"

Once inside the packed courtroom there was more speculation on whether or not this was the radical Jillian Jones, rabid activist. Marco came forward to snatch Jillian away. He didn't say hello so I didn't get to say hello asshole back. No, he was too busy whispering in Jillian's ear and brushing her cheek with his skinny lips. They sat at the table in front of me where they cooed back and forth. Yuk!

The prosecutor could have been Jillian's twin she was dressed so poorly in crumpled brown. She wore her hair in a bun and her shoes unpolished which scared me some. You see, I have a theory about lawyers spending too much time grooming themselves and not enough time on their case. This woman may well be a lot smarter than she looked. Silence prevailed as Judge Trudy Enns entered the courtroom and as per instructions by a fury bailiff, all rose.

Judge Trudy was a tiny woman with bright blue eyes and a precise blunt haircut accentuating her salt and pepper hair. She ordered the Opening Summation to begin and dowdy Prosecutor Trenton read a string of charges. Apparently, Jillian had been busy. Mischief; violating property rights; trespassing; disturbing the peace; disrupting stability; violating a court order as in breaking the terms of probation. Twice. Removal of an electronic device. "Today we are going to prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the defendant is not only a danger to society but a danger to herself. We will present a number of witnesses to prove our case."

It was Marco's turn next. "The defense will prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that while the defendant is guilty of some of the lesser crimes she is certainly not guilty of more. And yes, she is passionate about her causes as she will gladly tell the court. We will also present a number of witnesses to the events deemed by the Crown to be dangerous. Happily so."

The Crown was able to call two witnesses that day, the first being the bulldozer operator on the Hesquiat Lake Creek protest. The video shot for television news clearly showed Jillian, dressed in a green wind suit and wearing a green ball cap, scaling the bulldozer while her fellow protesters rallied on the ground below. Fools. And yes, the bulldozer operator was angry, being denied the right to work and feed his family. Good point. Next came the video of Jillian on the steps of Rosecam Metals, loud speaker in hand. This time she wore yellow. Crowds gathered, horns honked, a traffic jam ensued and a fight broke out. Her pleas for peace went ignored. The vice-president of Rosecam metals testified for quite a while.

After the courtroom cleared, Jillian accosted Marco. "Why are you saying no questions? Aren't you going to cross examine? You did nothing!"

"The videos speak for themselves, Jilly. What did you want me to say? That they're lying? The witnesses didn't say anything the camera didn't show. I can't say they were making stuff up. Don't worry. You'll have your say."

"But what about today? I'm going to look bad in the press."

He patted her hand. "I don't know how to tell you this, my dear, but this won't be the first time you've looked bad in the press. Did you watch those videos today?"

She snatched the clip from her pony tail and shook her long blond hair. "I'm not happy with you. And there's no way in hell I'm coming back here looking like Whistler's Mother. Do you get it?" Her face bulged.

Marco stood up. "This is day one. Give us a chance, Jilly."

"And don't call me Jilly! Jack gets away with it but you're not Jack." With that she pushed past him and stomped to the door where she turned back to me. "I can take a cab if you're still sleeping, Hampton. But I'm telling Jack that you snored through my trial."

After I dropped Jillian off I headed for the Chinatown spying apartment smiling to myself. Thirty years old and Jillian was still tattling. She tattled to Tony and now she was threatening to tattle to Jack. Great! Maybe he'd fire me and I could get back to my real job. On the upside, Marco Midolo wasn't doing so well in her books either so perhaps she'd fire him too. And maybe Marco and I could go for drinks together and compare notes. Right after hell froze over.

Jackie had a list of complaints for me when I arrived and had written them down in Chinese. The trouble was he couldn't read his own writing. "Not enough food, Amster. Not enough to feed a mouse. Only three bags of take out and all gone now."

"I gave you an advance. Why didn't you order more?"

"I don't know numbers. You always dial for me. You left me to starve."

Alright, then. "The take out was more than a hundred bucks, Wildman. There should have been enough for today."

His eyes blazed. "I ate it all last night and was still hungry. You have to be a better boss."

I threw the bag of McDonalds on his lap. "There are six Big Macs in there and six orders of fries. Will that do for dinner?"

He opened the bag and peered in. "You're cheap, Amster. A good boss would have bought more."

I put two containers of orange juice in the fridge. "Well, you can always fill up on liquids."

He was trying to read his writing while munching away on fries. "I need extra pay. Danger pay."

"I see. You're afraid of Reynolds, then. Even though he's one floor away."

"No. I'm afraid of mice."

I smiled. "When I left last night you said you were going to fry them up and eat them."

"I was just being bwrave. But now I think they're going to eat me."

I pulled out a wad of bills and threw him two.

"I'll need free more."

"That's scamming, Jackie. That's five hundred bucks."

"So?"

I threw him three more and they floated to the floor. "Anything else?"

"A good boss would not throw money at me. A good boss would put it in my hand."

"Well, this good boss is about to break your fucking neck."

He giggled. "Right."

We were watching Reynolds on the monitor. As usual, he was bouncing back and forth between computers, performing virtual B and E's. "Was there anything new today, Jackie? Anything about the heroin?"

"No."

"What's he up to?"

"Weynolds is not stealing from Mini now. Now that Abet is dead and she blamed Abet. Too wisky."

"So, who's he stealing from?"

"Abet."

"What?"

"Abet. Abet left a wot of money behind and Weynolds is taking it. Bit by bit every day. He's not stupid. He doesn't want to get caught."

"How much is he taking?"

Jackie grinned from ear to ear. "Five fousand."

"Well, he's predictable, the little shit. But think about this. Someone killed Albert. And that someone is likely after Albert's money too. Reynolds just might lead us to Albert's killer."

Jack was lying in wait for me at his warehouse office, as I knew he would be. I reached for the tumbler of whisky spinning towards me across the desk. He narrowed his accusatory green eyes.

"Alright, Rip Van Winkle. Want to tell me why you slept through the trial today?"

I screwed up my face. "I don't know. Maybe because I saw the whole thing first hand. The logging road protest, plus the Rosecam demonstration." I stared him down. "I was there in person remember. Both times. And I rescued your fanatic daughter from both situations. Maybe the replay is boring to me now. It's not like she was on the stand. Not that I could have done anything even then. What do you want me to do? Get a rifle and start shooting?"

He actually smiled. "You did good, Hamster. You showed up. She's not mad at you so I'm not either. Just don't ruffle her feathers."

I downed my whisky. If I was looking for gratitude after saving his fucking hide more than once I was looking in the wrong place. A compliment was something Jack paid others to convey.

"What have you done today, Hamster? Besides sleep. Have you found Richard's killer?"

"Yup. I confess. It was me. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Well, he did die the night after you arrived in Beijing so I'm not ruling you out. My guess is that you were jealous of Richard. You wanted all of my attention and Richard was muscling in. With his machete." He was cracking up inside.

I stood up. "Is there anything else, dad? For your information I'm going home if you want to tell the authorities my whereabouts."

"Yeah. I'm going to tell your pal, that crooked cop, Selic. Maybe he'll drop by and have a drink with you. You still look sick. You should be in the hospital."

Well, that made a lot of sense. I left the warehouse laughing. Peter Selic was Jack's crooked cop, not mine. And maybe if I talked nice to Selic he'd sit beside my bed and feed me whisky through a straw.

Back in my West End condo I poured a double whisky and threw bacon into a pan. I put three scoops of coffee in a pot filled with water before finding my lost toaster in a drawer. Things were sizzling before my buzzer rang.

"There is a Mr. William Chan to see you, Charles," Donald the Doorman officiously announced. "Are you expecting him?"

"I am now. Send him up."

Soon Willy and I were enjoying an evening breakfast of bacon and eggs. "It isn't jianbing," I told Willy. "But I'm going to learn to make it. Maya's going to teach me."

He giggled. "I have a better idea. Why don't you let my aunt make it and send it over in a cab? In a thermos bag. You don't live that far away. It would come piping hot and edible." He flashed the Willy smile. "Alternatively, you could always drop by 33 Terrace Place for breakfast. They all love it when you come home."

My lower lip quivered.

"I'm just saying. You've destroyed these eggs so I can't imagine what you'd do to jianbing."

"You've hurt me now."

"It's hard to tell since you look sick as a dog. You should likely drop by emergency for a bag of blood."

At that point, Willy told me about his computer-hacking espionage for the day. Not much to tell. A lot of activity in California which he already knew, since he'd established several phony companies there for Richard in the past. To his knowledge they were still operational, in name only, as no one had shut them down.

"Will they ever be shut down?" I asked. "Given they were never real?"

"Well, they were real. Just not in the traditional sense of the word. Richard was a master at shell companies. Money funneled through these companies was invested in prime real estate holdings, casinos, even the entertainment industry. I'm not sure where his shell companies stand today because I left Richard, as you know. But Richard was always a micromanager and pretty much ran things himself. He had his underbosses, like Leo, and there was at least one in LA but one for sure. A brilliant accountant. A man I've been unable to find because his information has changed. I'll track him down though. I'm just starting to investigate. But this much I know for sure. California is a big destination for heroin from the Golden Triangle, as it was for Richard, Won, and Zu. And you can't take the profits home in your pocket. Nor do they want to. Trust me. The Asian money launderers have a solid stake in the U.S. economy. Especially California. And it's all legal."

I looked my lifelong best bud in the eye. "Are you saying you had nothing to do with this? Regarding Richard?"

He didn't flinch. "I'm saying I had everything to do with this. Regarding Richard."

We left it there.

# Chapter Eighteen

THE NEXT MORNING, JILLIAN LOOKED like her old self. She swept down the steps of 33 Terrace Place curls all askew and her long, flowered skirt trailing behind her like a peacock's tail, swishing on her boots. A little black velvet jacket kept her warm. She was flushed with excitement as we made our way through the mass confusion in front of the courthouse. "Green Peace is here! Look at the signs! We're gathering global attention!"

I was dragging her by the arm. "Great. I hope they're this enthusiastic when they come to visit you in jail."

Inside the courtroom, Marco was equally impressed. "Green Peace is here. Did you see them, Jillian?"

I smiled. Marco was a quick study. One more 'Jilly' and he was a goner.

After the court was called to order the Crown produced a poignant witness, the guy who'd taken a rock to the head during the Rosecam protest. He was a small man wearing a grey tweed jacket and crooked glasses. He looked pretty shaky to me.

Still in the same crumpled brown suit as the day before, Crown began, "Mr. Valesic. Please tell the court why you're here."

"I am here because of that bad woman," he said in a thick accent. He pointed to Jillian.

"I object!" Marco barked.

The judge agreed. "Sustained."

Jillian smiled at Marco. He was finally doing his job.

Crown rephrased. "Mr. Valesic. Please tell the court what happened to you at Rosecam Metals on October twelfth this year."

He nodded for quite a while. "I was driving in my car. But I couldn't go anywhere. The traffic it was jammed. There were people everywhere. People shouting at that bad woman!" He again pointed to Jillian.

"Objection!"

"Sustained. Please speak to your client, Counselor."

She whispered. He nodded.

She tried again. "And people were shouting, Mr. Valesic?"

"They were. They were shouting at that _not_ bad woman." He pointed to Jillian.

Titters rippled through the courtroom.

Marco stood up. "Your Honor. We are bordering on a hostile witness here. Can we

please move forward?"

"Counselors. Please approach the bench."

They did.

I poked Jillian in the back. "Hey bad woman."

She turned around, smiling. "I've been called worse."

Once back in action, Crown said, "You got out of your car, didn't you, Mr. Valesic?"

"Yes I did."

"And then what happened?"

"I don't remember. I got knocked out."

"Was there a police report?"

"Yes."

"What did it say?"

"I got hit by a rock."

"Did you go to the hospital?"

"Yes. I went in an ambulance."

"What did the doctor's report say?"

"That I had a concussion. A severe concussion. Grade three."

"How long were you in hospital?"

"A week."

"And how are you feeling today, six weeks later, sir?"

"Poor. I have headaches and I don't see well."

"Your witness, Counselor."

Marco sauntered to the witness box where he turned to address the audience, flaunting his charm and glassy good looks. "I'm sorry about the accident, Mr. Valesic. I'm sorry that you're having headaches and trouble with your vision. That's most unfortunate."

Mr. Valesic nodded.

"I have a few questions for you, though. If you're up to it."

He nodded.

"Did you happen to see the person who threw the rock at you?"

"No. I didn't."

"There were witnesses, weren't there?"

"Yes."

"According to the police report three witnesses gave statements. And all three identified the man that threw the rock. Correct?"

"Correct."

"Have there been charges laid against him?"

"No. He got away."

"So, it wasn't Ms. Jones that actually threw the rock, was it?"

"I'm not sure."

"Even after three witnesses described the culprit you're not convinced?"

"I'm not. That bad woman could have thrown the rock."

Titters.

Marco smiled. "Now let me see. Ms. Jones was standing on the steps of Rosecam Metals, was she not?"

"Yes."

"And you just got out of your car on the street."

"Yes."

Marco walked to his table to collect a photo which he gave to the witness. "There's quite a walkway there, isn't there? Between the building and the street."

"Yes."

"Then there is the sidewalk and the curb. If you turn the photo over it's signed by the engineering department at Rosecam. The distance we're talking about is thirty-two yards. And the rock was how heavy?"

"Almost three pounds."

Marco motioned to Jillian. "Would you please stand up, Ms. Jones?"

Jillian stood up.

"How much do you weigh, Ms. Jones?"

"None of your business."

Titters.

"Very well. I'll leave it to the judge to decide whether or not this very thin woman could throw a three-pound rock thirty-two yards."

Laughter rocked the room. And after a few more lackluster prosecution witnesses court was adjourned for the day.

I was starting to like Overcoat Marco more now, but only marginally, since Marco Midolo was not a man to trust. I knew him from another movie, you see. Marco had a habit of haunting late night bars with other men's wives, due to his glassy good looks and their stupidity. Marco and I had clashed before and were about to clash again.

Over whisky in the living room at 33 Terrace Place, Jillian and I updated Tony on the trial.

Jillian threw back her long blond curls. "Marco was wonderful! Wasn't he, Hampton?"

She didn't get it. About as crooked as the _Upper Levels Highway_ , and twice as slippery, Marco flaunted his collection of overcoats in every style and shade, and Overcoat Marco turned ugly on a dime. She knew this too, from past experience.

I shrugged. "He's not my type."

Tony giggled. "What? He's too pretty for you, Charlie? I'll bet you'd like to break his face. To make it ugly like yours."

There he went again. Torturing me. The old coot had been at it since I was ten years old. "If it's alright with you, sir, I just don't like him. Period."

At that point, Billy Chan paraded his latest clone into the room. He was so damn cute, that little Tommy, with his bristly dark hair and round brown eyes. He looked like a raccoon. But he also looked like Richard.

"Tell Amster what I taught you."

Tommy with the infectious smile nodded. "The horse drinks water."

"And?"

"The dog drinks water."

"And?"

"Amster drinks water."

"So?"

"They all drink water. Amster is a dog. Amster is a horse's ass."

Well, how could you not laugh? We roared. After which time Tommy came to my chair and put his arms around my neck. "I wove you, Amster."

"Awe! That's so nice. Did you teach him that, Billy?"

He made a face. "Yeah. I had to. Kow Gong said."

Tony looked sheepish. "I'm not all bad, you know." And later he walked me to the car. "There's a slight problem with keeping Tommy in the country. He's here on a visitor's permit only and we're fortunate to have even that but at least his adoptive parents had papers. However, he has to leave in a month. Jack is going to immigration tomorrow but it doesn't look good. He's been on the phone with them for two days. I don't know that showing up there will change things."

I thought about it. "There has to be a way to keep Tommy here. Jack is his grandfather. Isn't that good enough?"

"No. With his mother and father deceased there's no proof of that. No DNA. Jack already tried that."

"What about adoption? Could Jack not adopt?"

"He tried that too. They say Jack's criminal record has never been cleared. You know, with the Leo thing and all. Leo's murder has never been solved so Jack is still suspect. That and a string of other crimes against him that have never been proven." He giggled. "He's not exactly parent material, if you know what I mean."

"You and I both know that's bullshit. Firstly, we know Leo's killer and it wasn't Jack."

"Well, Willy could run to authorities and confess but who says he'd be believed? That would be a long process and in the meantime, Tommy would be shipped back to Beijing. To the parents who were paid for him twice. Any other suggestions?"

"Why don't you adopt him, Tony?"

His brown eyes twinkled. "Because I'm eighty years old. I might die tomorrow, then what?"

"What about Willy? He likes kids. Furthermore, he speaks Tommy's language."

"Willy can't adopt. My nephew has no declared income."

I giggled. "Yeah. I guess I knew that. A guy that owns a collection of antique Porches and drives a Talbot Lagos is dirt poor to the feds. Oh, and his apartment buildings, his golf courses etcetera."

"Why don't you adopt him, Charlie? You pay taxes, don't you?"

Long pause. Ok. Call me a nitwit, a nincompoop, or just a guy out of the loop. I was being set up all along. I mean, the hug and 'I wove you, Amster'? Sucked in again. "Alright. What do you need from me?"

All the way over to the spying apartment I mulled my new roll. Dad. I'd just learned to brush my own teeth. And tie my shoes, although unless I was playing tennis I wore convenient loafers. And I drank milk. Well, maybe it was chocolate and laced with vodka. So what? I'd tried whisky and chocolate milk but it made me sick. I had a favorite blanket, a midnight soother called Vape, and when stressed I fart in public. Dad? I could hardly wait to tell Jackie.

But Jackie had bigger news for me, although he wouldn't tell me until I opened all six bags of take-out.

"What? Only two bags of dumpwings?"

"That's four orders of dumplings, Wildman. Where are you going to put all that stuff?"

He patted his tummy. "In this hungry place." He rescued a plate from the cupboard and carefully arranged the pots of sauce. "Sank you, Amster. Sank you wery much." He proceeded to dip and munch and to make the guttural sounds of a wolf.

"The news? You have news for me?"

He beamed. "There's dwugs coming in, Amster. Big dwugs."

I sat on the arm of a nice plaid sofa, about a hundred years old. "How do you know?"

"Weynolds. Weynolds told Mini. He's got them, he says. He's got contwol."

"How has Reynolds got control?"

"They're coming to his warehouse."

"Reynolds doesn't have a warehouse."

"Yes he does. Pearson."

"Richard owns Pearson."

"Exactly! And Wichard died. Nobody owns it now."

"It will go into the estate. Reynolds doesn't own it."

"That takes time, Mini says. She says to just borrow it. To have a place for the dwugs."

I nodded. Reynolds and Mini had been at this gig a long time and had distributors. The stuff would be in and out of Pearson in no time flat. I was so damn excited I forgot to tell Jackie my own good news.

# Chapter Nineteen

BACK AT THE BAR ON East Hastings Street something had changed. The barkeep. Red was back and looking as striking as ever with her tanned freckled face and gorgeous green eyes. She was tall, about five-ten, and I rarely take my women under five-nine. She shook her long auburn hair as she set down my whisky double.

"Hey, handsome. Where have you been?"

"Away. Out of town."

"Oh, sure. I gave you my phone number then you disappeared. You hurt my feelings." She smiled.

"We'll make it up sometime, Red. I promise. I've just got a lot to deal with right now."

She grabbed a pen and a napkin. "Write that down. That 'I promise' part."

I did. And shortly after, Robocop arrived to monopolize a stool with his big brown coat. "How are you doing, son?" He eyed me up with concern. "I take that back. You don't look any better than you did the other night. Am I supposed to worry about you now? Why aren't you taking care of yourself?"

"Take a breath, Robo. I'm ok. There's just a lot going on."

"I hear. I hear the coast guard is searching the freighters in the Bay. Do you know anything about that?"

I signaled to Red for a refill and one for my friend. Also, one for the biker at the end of the bar. "Not much."

"It's not your brother? The big drug lord?"

"I told you that Richard is dead. And he wasn't my brother either."

"What about an underboss? Given the timeline, Richard could have ordered the drugs sent before he died."

"I've thought of that, Robo. There could well be someone I'm not aware of. I'm working on it. But Richard wasn't the only one smuggling drugs into the country. There are others, you know."

He shook his big white head. "Don't talk down to me, Charlie. I'm not your enemy." With that he downed his drink and stomped away.

Biker was quick to capture a warm stool and he slapped me on the back. "You look like shit, son."

I should have been happy with all those fathers. It's just that I was about to become one myself and that word 'son' kept plaguing me. "Yeah, I know, Biker. I've booked an appointment with a plastic surgeon. I'm going to get rubber injected into my face. Soon I'll be plumper than a spare tire."

He slapped my back again. "Well, at least you haven't lost your humor. That's good."

Red came by to refill our glasses and chat. "Can I get you boys anything else?"

Biker grinned. "I'll take you." He turned to me. "Have you met my new girlfriend, Copper?"

"Yes, I have. She's lovely. How long have you been dating?"

"We're starting tonight."

Red smacked his hand with the bottle. "In your dreams." She slinked away.

I turned to business. "So, what do you know about the heroin in the harbor, longshoreman?"

"Just what I hear."

"And what do you hear?"

"I hear that it's coming ashore tonight."

So, back in the courtroom the following morning, it was Marco's turn and he floored everyone by producing a single witness, the defendant herself. I understood this tactic. I mean, we'd all seen the videos. Did we need those whacky activists to justify things? Like it wasn't her fault? Clearly it was.

Jillian wore a tomato-red suit, tight fitting and elegant. Her springy curls were partially held back with a clip. Had the judge been a man he might have died of lust. Marco began by saying,

"Ms. Jones." He paced back and forth for quite a while. "Did you ever think you'd be here today? In a court of law?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

Marco's mouth fell open. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Yes. Absolutely." She turned to the judge. "You see, the future of our planet is at stake. And most people don't understand. They don't understand because they can't visually see the damage being done. They don't think it's real."

Judge Trudy nodded. "Start from the beginning, please."

Jillian took a big deep breath. "Well, I am known as a tree hugger."

Titters.

"And I don't mind the handle at all. If I can save just one tree from destruction, it's an accomplishment. You see, rainforests are the earth's main source of oxygen. Without them we'll perish. Yet there is mass slaughter of trees, both in temperate forests, like we have here in coastal British Columbia, and tropical forests, such as the Amazon in South America."

Judge Trudy sat up in her chair. "So, we have two types of rainforests, Ms. Jones. Temperate and tropical."

"We do. A tropical rainforest is self-explanatory. It lies between the _Tropic of Cancer_ and the _Tropic of Capricorn_. The beauty, majesty and timelessness of a tropical rainforest is indescribable. It represents a store of living and breathing renewable natural resources vital to the survival of our planet. These massive trees continuously recycle carbon dioxide into oxygen. In fact, the Amazon tropical rainforest produces more than twenty per cent of the world's oxygen. Thus it is called 'the lungs of the planet'. Yet, over twenty percent of this vital rainforest is already gone through massive deforestation. So, you tell me, Your Honor, where future generations will get the air they breathe if this egregious slaughter of trees continues."

She nodded. "And temperate rainforests? I assume you have a reason for obstructing a working operation with permits on a remote logging road in this province."

Marco looked silly standing there with his hands in his pockets while Judge Trudy asked the questions.

She continued. "Did you save any trees, Ms. Jones?"

Jillian smiled. "Hopefully. But we were there to save the marbled murrelet, a bird dependent on old growth forests. It cannot survive anywhere else. When the forest goes, it goes."

"So, it's not only about the trees. It's about the birds and animals."

"It's about all living things, your honor. Have you heard of _The Great Bear Rainforest_ on the west coast?"

"I have read about it. Yes."

"Well, through the work of activists like myself it is now eighty-five percent protected from logging of old-growth forests. That means that western redwoods up to a thousand years old, and the Sitka, growing to ninety feet tall, cannot be put to death. It means that cougars, wolves, salmon and grizzly bears have a natural habitat in which to survive, as does the spirit bear, the Kermode, with its thick white coat."

Judge Trudy sat back to think things through. "Tell me about _Catface Mountain_. I saw the video as we all did. Can you sum it up in a sentence or two?"

Hint, hint, Jillian. She doesn't want you to go on and on. She doesn't want to know about the tattoo on your ass. Give it up, already.

Jillian smacked her lips. "Well, if allowed to proceed they'll destroy the top third of the mountain. There will be waste rock rubble and a toxic pond. An environmental disaster." She must have bitten her tongue because she stopped there.

Marco rested his case and court was adjourned. Crown would get her chance in the afternoon.

In the meantime, I called Willy for an update. The information from Jackie had been useful, since Willy immediately tapped into Reynolds' network and was able to intervene. The shipment destined for Pearson had then been re-routed the previous evening and was now elsewhere. Where? Where else? In the back of Jack's warehouse. Eek! Of course, he didn't know. So, I silently said a prayer for Willy and especially for myself. Not that I'm religious but I believe in prayer when trying to save my ass. And Willy's too.

Crown was cranky. I thought it might be caused by the crumpled brown suit being itchy, like burlap, maybe. Anyway, she did not like the beautiful and free-spirited Ms. Jones. She started off by saying, "Ms. Jones. Do you have any respect for the law at all?"

"Objection!" Marco shouted.

"Sustained."

She tried again. "If you can read, and I'm not so sure you can, there are several serious charges against you."

"Objection! My client has two Masters degrees. She'd destroy you in an IQ competition, guaranteed, Counselor, since you graduated at the bottom of your class."

Laughter in the courtroom.

Judge Trudy banged her gavel hard enough to scare her little self. She jumped.

Crown proceeded. "Well, then. With your brilliance I'm sure you understand parole violation. It's an automatic jail term. Would you like to explain that?"

Jillian shook her head.

"Cat got your tongue?"

She shrugged.

Crown walked to the bench. "I'd like to declare the defendant as a hostile witness."

Marco stood up. "I think in order to be hostile you have to say something, your honor. My client is waiting for an intelligent question."

Crown shot Marco a look that could kill a buffalo.

Judge Trudy yawned. "Proceed. Do you have further questions?"

Crown stomped back to Jillian. "Ms. Jones," she rasped. "You removed an electronic tracking device. That's another jail term. You're really racking them up, aren't you?"

Jillian smiled at Marco who smiled back. Marco shook his head.

"And where did you go after you removed your bracelet? Oh, I know you're not going to answer that question so I'll just tell the court. You went to Tahiti."

Jillian nodded.

Crown threw up her hands. "This is ridiculous! We have two consecutive jail terms here, Your Honor, and the defendant doesn't care. Well, if she doesn't I don't either. I hope she receives the maximum for both." She stomped back to her table.

Marco stood up. "Ms. Jones. You are an accomplished woman. You are an artist, are you not?"

"I am."

"A member of the West Coast Six?"

"Yes."

"How many paintings do you have for sale at this time?"

"None."

"None? Isn't that unusual for an artist?"

"For some artists, yes. But I'm lucky enough to have a dealer with clients who buy my work as soon as it hits the gallery."

I almost laughed out loud. Jillian, to my knowledge, had one big anonymous client who stored boxes of her childlike paintings in his warehouse. His name was Jack Jones.

Marco was circling. "Please help the court to understand, Ms. Jones, why an intelligent, successful woman would violate her parole."

She shook her lovely head. "It isn't a choice. It's never a choice. But the work has to be done. Yes, I've been arrested for doing what I believe is right. And I wish I could tell the court that it's never going to happen again. But I can't. And I won't. I will be out there again as soon as I get out of jail."

I'm sure that wasn't what Marco wanted to hear but he knew who he had on the stand. He switched gears. "Why did you remove the electronic bracelet, Ms. Jones, when you knew the consequences?"

She shook her head. "I don't remember removing it. It might have just fallen off. You see, my father had been kidnapped and shot. He was in the hospital dying and all I knew was that I had to get to him. I didn't care if the police followed me. I didn't care if they threw me in jail. I just had to get to my dad."

"Why did you go to Tahiti, Ms. Jones?"

"I'd rather not say."

"I think it's important. It's important to tell the judge your reason. The prosecution has made it sound like a holiday but I believe it was more than that."

"It was. It was the thirty-year anniversary of my mother's death. She died shortly after I was born. We went to spread her ashes as in the terms of her will. My parents were married in Tahiti, you see. You can throw me in jail for that too. I don't mind. I'd never break a promise to my mother."

Marco rested his case.

Closing arguments were scheduled for the following morning, which came as a relief to me. I was damn tired of shoe polish odor and lies. Having said that, I was proud of Jillian for bravely taking her cause to court in front of cameras worldwide. And yes, she'd lied a little. Peter Selic had removed the electronic bracelet after Jack got shot. But Willy and I were the ones in critical condition, after the shootout necessary to save her dad, while Jack suffered only a surface wound to the shoulder. But so what? We all lie a little. And her parents had been married in Tahiti...

Something was sticking in my craw. And it wasn't the drugs packed into double-barreled oil drums and stored under a tarp at the back of Jack's warehouse, although this particular type of shipment had Richard's stamp on it. Oil drums were his specialty. It was about the intended receiver. Although I'd composed a list of possibilities it was less than interesting and bordered on feeble. I had work to do.

That night I found it hard to sleep. I'd been having a reoccurring dream about Richard who would hover over my bed with a head the size of a hot air balloon and grimace as only Richard could do. He wasn't happy that I hadn't found his killer and maybe he was going to do something about it, like choke me in my sleep. Night after night he'd place his criminal hands on my neck and start to squeeze. "Find my killer," he'd rasp in the lovely British accent he'd acquired at Oxford. "You're supposed to be a detective. You're shameful, actually. A disgrace." Understandably, I'd wake up in a cold sweat.

The following morning things were about to change and not for the good. Glassy Marco

Midolo was about to deliver his summation to be broadcast globally. Jillian could hardly contain her excitement as we muscled our way through the press. "The BBC is here. Spiegel. Al-Ahram. The works!" She looked amazing with her hazel eyes blazing and her cheeks turning pink. She was wearing a Julia outfit, a taupe velvet jacket above a taupe flowing skirt. I was therefore not surprised to spot Julia just ahead. I grabbed her arm.

"You did good, lady. The prisoner almost looks human today."

She hugged me hard. "I tried. It took a lot of talking. She wanted to wear flowers."

Jillian shot her nose in the air. "You're talking about me as if I wasn't here. Are you trying to tell me that in twenty-three years I'll look exactly like her?" She pointed to her aunt.

I put my arm around my other woman. "You already do. And you're a very lucky girl."

Inside the courtroom, Julia took the chair beside me. "I'm worried, Charlie. I just got back last night from business in Japan although I knew there was nothing I could do. Jack said you were covering for us."

I smiled. "You realize, of course, there's nothing to cover. Marco decided against character witnesses and he was likely right. The judge just wants the facts. She made notes. You know the old saying 'let go and let Marco'?

She squeezed my arm. "Did I ever tell you that I love you?"

"Many times. Especially when I got into trouble which was a lot. I came to live with you and Jack when I was a kid, remember. And I shot the neighbors canary."

"Ah huh! So it was you! You blamed Willy."

"Well, Willy did shoot him too. After he was dead. Just so I wouldn't get all the blame."

"You two guys! What secrets are you keeping now?"

"You don't want to know, Julia. You just don't want to know."

After the formalities we sat back down. The Crown came forward in a new crumpled suit, wine in color and with a string of pearls around her neck. Her dark hair was freshly washed and springing free. "In the province of British Columbia it is unlawful to break the terms of probation," she began. "The defendant broke these terms not just once but twice. In the province of British Columbia it is unlawful to remove an electronic tracking device yet the defendant did just that. There are lesser charges against the defendant too, including trespassing, also unlawful, not to mention that a man was severely injured due to the defendant's inciting a riot. The defendant, Your Honor, has no moral code. Over the course of the last few days the Crown has proven her guilty on all charges, criminal offences that must put her behind bars. Yet, she comes to a court of law seemingly oblivious to the seriousness of such charges, like it's all a big game. Well, it's not a big game. Parole violation is an indictable offence, as is the removal of an electronic tracking device given to confine the defendant to house arrest. House arrest? That seems to be a game to her as well. Why do I say this? Because she didn't stay in that house very long. No, in the blink of an eye the bracelet was gone and where was she off to? Tahiti? Why? Because her passport had not been taken away. Oh, gee. I hope she had a wonderful time there because she won't be seeing the sunlight for a long time. Your Honor, I respectfully ask for the maximum sentence."

Whew! Was that steam exuding from the prosecutor's nostrils? Marco had better be good.

Marco Midolo was looking dapper himself in a navy pinstriped suit, a navy shirt with a round white collar, and a flashy tie. He strolled to the bench, nodded to the judge, and turned sideways, to address both the magistrate and the audience. "Your Honor. Today I will respectfully ask for a not guilty verdict. Why? Because my client is not the first zealot in this world and she won't be the last." He started to pace. "What is a zealot, you ask? By definition a zealot is a person who is fanatical and uncompromising in pursuit of their ideals. And I doubt there is a person in this courtroom that doesn't believe the defendant to be fanatical and uncompromising. In a good way."

"My client has had excellent role models, too. In 1431 a young Joan of Arc, just seventeen, was burned at the stake for fighting to free her homeland, France, from British rule. And before she was put to death in such a horrific and barbaric way she said, and I quote, 'One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice what you are and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying.'"

"My client is guilty of what? Sticking to her ideals. Why? Well, she clearly told you why when she talked to you about our rainforests and how the mass slaughter of trees is reducing the planet's oxygen supply. She told you that these trees, both in tropical and temperate rainforests, recycle carbon dioxide into the oxygen we breathe. As trees disappear, our source of air declines. So, you tell me, Your Honor. At the present rate of clearcutting, will there be sufficient air for our grandchildren to breathe? Maybe so. But what about our great grandchildren? And generations after that, if they're lucky enough to be born."

"And yes, she's worried about Catface mountain, waste rubble and toxic ponds too. She's worried about the bird and animal species, as well. I mean, how many people are passionate enough to stage a protest over a single little bird? The marbled murrelet. Why? It's a bird that can only survive in old growth forests which we are destroying at a rapid rate. She's worried about the bears and the cougars too, even the salmon. And we're lucky to have, not only her worrying, but her taking action too. Its zealots like Jillian Jones that keep us honest about the environment and the future of our planet. Your Honor, I respectfully ask you to find my client not guilty on all charges."

There wasn't a breath in the courtroom. But we'd all be back for Judge Trudy's decision the following morning. In the meantime, I did the take-out run to the Chinatown spying apartment to see what Jackie had learned. Reynolds had to know more than what he was telling Mini, I believed, and he did. After Jackie arranged the dumplings and little pots of sauces on a plate he started to laugh.

"Weynolds is a good liar."

"How so?"

"Well, we know that my cousin Willy has the dwugs. In Jack's warehouse but if I tell anyone you'll bweak my fucking neck."

"You're right about that. So?"

"Weynolds tells Mimi he has the dwugs."

"What?"

"Mini sends her boys to get them but they're not there. So she screams at Weynolds and Weynolds starts to cry. He says, 'Oh no! Someone must have stolen them from Pearson. Her boys must have stolen the dwugs, he says, cause she told them where they were."

"That's hilarious! He's blaming his mother for his own incompetence."

"Amster! Weynolds is smart. You know that. We see him hacking every day."

I nodded. "It's just that Willy was a little smarter. Those boys have been duking it out since they were in school together. And my guess is, they'll be at it long after I'm gone."

Jackie was gnawing on a chicken foot. "What about the dwugs at Jack's? If he finds out we'll be in big twouble."

I nervously giggled. "We're trying to decide, Jackie. We're not keeping them. That's all we know. But I need you to stay vigilant. There's still a missing piece to the puzzle. The receiver. We're assuming the sender was Richard. And Reynolds must have thought that too because he wouldn't just hack into outer space. He had to have hacked into a computer he knew and he knew Richard's well. He worked for him, remember. Not that they ended on a good note but there isn't anything about Richard that Reynolds doesn't know."

Later, at the bar on East Hastings Street, Robo had a theory. "I hear the drugs came ashore. Know anything about that, son?"

"No, Dad." I was busy watching shapely Red's derriere. It was definitely prettier than Robocop's flabby face.

"Why do I think you're lying to me?"

"I'm not lying to you specifically."

"You're such a wise guy." He shrunk into his big brown coat. "Word is, your brother is still active, dead or not. He might have sent them to you."

"My birthday was in September. He's a little late."

He stood up to move a chair over and chat up another straight-faced cop. "Well, let me know when you're ready to talk."

Biker was on his way out and he slapped me on the back. "I saved your ass, Copper."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. There was an invoice with a funky kind of shipment. Oil barrels. When did your dad get into oil?"

"He's branching out."

"Well, I destroyed the copy. I hope I didn't do anything wrong. Like, if the shipment never arrived at his warehouse and he wanted to claim something. And there's no record of it."

"You did good, Biker. It's a long story."

"You still look like shit." After again slapping my back he headed for the door.

# Chapter Twenty

THE FOLLOWING MORNING I COLLECTED both Jillian and Julia from 33 Terrace Place and this time Jillian wore flowers – a flowing flowered dress with little cap sleeves and a skinny belt. Not surprisingly, Julia was draped in taupe. Marco was waiting in the courtroom and greeted Jillian with his lustful charms, which meant kissing her on the cheek and holding her there to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. My breakfast of air wanted to come up. Julia and I took our places behind the defendant's table and didn't breathe. Judge Trudy entered, sat down, we sat down, and the speech began.

"I first of all want to thank the Crown prosecutor for doing a thorough job. The facts of this case have been presented accurately and in sequence. Because of her I had a long and troubled night, weighing the evidence and switching back and forth. In the end I had to ask myself a question. Would the world be better off with the defendant behind bars? Who is she a threat to, exactly? Humanity? And this morning my answer was clear. I have decided to give Jillian Emily Jones one last chance."

She settled back in her chair while the courtroom erupted. And not everyone was happy. A chorus of boos resounded through the room, responding to the cheers. Judge Trudy banged her gavel. "I said the word _last_ and I mean it. There is no more trespassing and no more illegal protests for the defendant because if she appears in my courtroom again I will have no choice. She will be incarcerated. Point blank. But I don't think that's where she belongs right now. Again, I think she deserves one last chance."

Julia hugged me hard. "There is a god," she whispered.

"Now here are the terms of her probation. The defendant was originally offered community service. And yes, it was excessive. A thousand hours is excessive in my books. However, the defendant declined this option, preferring to take her case to court. I am first of all going to ask the defendant to pay all court costs, since this trial was unnecessary."

Jillian nodded.

"And I'm again going to assign community service, although not in terms of hours. In terms of a project. There is a long wall at Vancouver Airport just waiting for an artist's inspiration. It's a tall wall, too, so you won't be able to paint it overnight. I'd like to see a mural on that wall. A mural of Vancouver at night. Are you up to that, Ms. Jones?"

Her head bobbed. Definitely, it said. "Yes, Your Honor."

"And one last thing. The one hundred thousand-dollar bail money. Would you object to donating that to a number of local charities including the Vancouver food bank?"

"Not at all, Your Honor."

I smiled to myself. Sure, your honor. What Jillian wanted to do was claw her eyes out.

"I'm not finished. In conclusion I'd like to say that I never want to see your face again. In court or on TV. Understand?"

Just a little nod. Jillian had been told.

Needless to say, the party was at Jack's house. And I was the last to arrive, due to my reluctance to celebrate anything and basically poor sport attitude. I was barely inside the door before Shoeshine gave me a shove. "Get into the game, Charlie. You've been sulking long enough. The past is the past. Your life is here now."

David in the alcove started to sway. Was that a yes or a no? Call me a romantic but I thought he was sympathizing with me. Or maybe, just maybe, he knew I had something to hide.

In the living room I headed for the bar. Big mistake. Jack was waiting for me there. "Hamster! What kept you so long? I've had to pour my own drinks." He held out his glass. "You know I don't like to drink alone."

Alone? There had to be sixty people packed into that room. I filled his glass to the brim. "I'm only pouring one so make it last."

He giggled. And then he got serious. "Are you ever going to come back, Hamster? You've been out there a long time. We miss you."

I thought about it. "Truthfully? I miss myself. But I've changed. I'm not the same person anymore. So, to answer your question is, this is me. This is who I've become."

Jack screwed up his face. "You're not a lot of fun."

"I know. I'm not having a lot of fun."

Billy Chan pushed his way through the crowd, hauling Tommy behind him. He hopped up and down. "Tommy. Tell your new dad hello."

Tommy smiled an impish smile. "Hello Dad."

"And?"

"Hello Dad. Cash." His eyes blazed. "Gimme cash!"

Jack elbowed me in the ribs. "Don't be a cheapskate, Hamster."

I took out a wad of bills and peeled off a few. "Will this do? You'll have to share it with Billy though."

He took the money. "Sank you."

"Sank you who?" Billy persisted.

"Sank you horse's ass."

The two boys ran away giggling.

Barely had they escaped before Jillian showed up dragging Marco by the hand. "Wasn't he wonderful, Hampton? Wasn't he amazing?" She'd never looked happier.

While I fumbled for an answer, Jack stepped in. "Damn right. You did swell up there, Marco. You saved the day."

Hmm. I wanted to say that Jillian saved her own day and that sleazy Marco had just copied her words like a parrot but... no one was going to listen to me. I was on my way to the door when I heard Jack holler, "Can you believe this, people? Jillian and Marco are engaged! It's going to be a Christmas wedding!"

Great. Fantastic. I didn't even care. I actually wanted to laugh, in fact, given that Jillian was breaking records at the speed of light, having been engaged four times within the year, and if this entanglement managed to stick, well, married three out of four. First, there was Leonard _the letch_ who, after accepting a buyout from Jack, disappeared. Then there was Richard, who turned out to be her brother. Number three was me, whom she felt sorry for because I'd been shot but didn't actually like, and was glad to learn that our fake preacher had been a bum Jack hired on the Tahiti beach. And now there was Marco. Womanizing Marco. I was so damn mad at her I figured she deserved him and considerably more. But all of that was about to change.

It was time to step back. And no one was happier than Jackie Chan who considered being confined to the mouse lair a death sentence. He skipped his way to my car. "Sank you, Amster. You are the best!"

Sank me, be damn. Jackie was homeless, given that Bob and Joe had taken in a girl roommate so there wasn't even space on the couch, unless they were fibbing and all three were sleeping in one bed. His brother Billy was mentoring Tommy at Jack's house and they didn't need a _Thing Two_. So, I said,

"You can stay with me for a while. I have a spare bedroom in my condo with an ocean view. But you'll have to earn your keep. Can you sweep a floor?"

He giggled. "In your dreams."

"Can you do laundry?"

"No."

"How are you going to earn your keep then?"

He twisted his face. "I am a spy. I only spy. And I get paid the big bucks."

Jackie and I laughed all the way home.

The following morning I arrived at my Denman Street office before seven a.m. I fed Robert the Plant enough spring water to make him burp before straightening _Chestnut Gelding_ on the wall. Damn it. No matter how many times I straightened the boy he militantly slid crooked on the wall. "So, Mike," I said. "This is all I get for five bucks? A crooked horse?"

Someone in the doorway was clearing a throat. It was an expensive throat, a _Mercedes_ throat, an _S650 Cabriolet_ , I figured, from the extravagant cologne whiffing my way. Unmistakably, _Clive Christian_.

"Charles Hampton, I presume."

I smiled. "James McGoogle. Haven't had enough of me yet?"

We shook hands. I could smell his money and it didn't stink so I pointed to a chair.

"How is the lovely Lana?" I sunk into my own battered contraption.

"The same."

Oh. Oh. Not good. The beautiful and luscious Lana McGoogle was a cheater, you see. I knew this from another kick at the can. A Cindy Crawford type, Lana could have her pick. "And what do you want from me?" Funny, I was sitting across from a manicure and perfectly-plucked eyebrows and I wanted to help this guy. And I wanted Lana too. Who didn't? I pretended to be neutral. "Same story?"

He nodded. "It's always daytime. You know her routine."

I did. My one and only adultery chase and I tore up the cheque in the end. Not my thing. "You know I don't do divorce, James."

He nodded. "I know. But I thought we were friends now. I thought you might do a favor as a friend. Naturally, I'd pay you."

"I don't accept payment from friends."

He sank into his chair. "I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that you already followed her last summer and told me she was cheating. And you're going to ask why I didn't act at the time. Well, I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough. I still wanted her to be my wife. Is that so bad?"

"No. It isn't. But what makes you think you're stronger now? That you're able to follow through? Do you still love her?"

"Yes. I'll always love her. But she's growing colder and colder to me now. No pretense any more. Just ice. And I'm not going to put up with that forever. I deserve better."

He did. And since my calendar was basically empty I decided to do a special favor for a friend. That afternoon I followed Lana from her Shaugnessey mansion to the _Pan Pacific Hotel_ where I rode the elevator with her to the ninth floor. Even in a silver raincoat she looked deadly, with her dark troubled eyes and her long brown hair tumbling down her back. I waited as she knocked on 909 and was ushered in. I rode the elevator down to the lounge bar where I ordered a fancy drink to be slowly sipped through a straw. I had time. They'd be having drinks too, I thought, so no rush. If all else failed I'd do the route again tomorrow, given my un-busy schedule and my promise to a man I'd spent just twenty minutes with in the course of time.

Forty-five minutes in, I cornered a bellman, passed a few bills, and whispered in his ear. He nodded and we solemnly rode the elevator to the ninth floor. There he left me with an open door and disappeared.

"Surprise!" I hollered, but little did I know that I'd be the one surprised.

Marco Midolo leapt out of bed. "What the fuck!" he hollered. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same question myself, slime ball," I said without flinching. "Aren't you supposed to be engaged?"

Lana pulled the covers over her head.

"Hey, sweetie," I called. "Do you know that this man is engaged? Oops! Not that it matters since you are actually married."

I sauntered away to the tune of name-calling, all of which I'd heard before. And my own favorite song? Slimy Marco Midolo was going down.

But not easily. Jillian was too busy with wedding plans to listen to something she thought I'd conjured up to keep her for myself. She basically called me a liar on the phone. I decided to try Jack, due to his incessant bragging and excitement over Jillian's fourth wedding of the year. He was ecstatic, in fact, when I dropped by the warehouse.

I reached for the tumbler of whisky spinning towards me across his desk.

"Can you believe it, Hamster? Jillian is marrying the top lawyer in town."

"I know I'm peeing my pants I'm so excited."

He shook his curly head. "You need to see a shrink, Hamster. What happened to you over there was terrible. Everyone knows that. But you've gone into some kind of depression and you need help."

I tried not to laugh. I was not the one that needed help. Unless he discovered the drugs in his warehouse. Then I'd need help. "Marco Midolo is a slimy son of a bitch. No one will convince me otherwise. Jillian can do better."

Jack sat back to scratch his chin. "She wants to adopt Tommy. Her and Marco."

I shot out of my chair. "Over my dead body! That boy is mine!"

"Sit down, Hamster. Sit down and we'll talk about it. Nothing is final. It's just conversation."

I sank back down. There were tears stuck in my eyelids and I fought to keep them there. "Tommy is mine," I said flatly. "He is Jada's child and he is mine."

"He's also Richard's child. My grandchild. I have a say too. And you need to think about this, Hamster. You need to think about what's best for Tommy. Tommy could have two parents. A mom and a dad. Will you be able to give him that?" He stared a hole right through me. "You're not exactly stable at this point in time."

I swallowed hard. "I'll tell you what I am. I'm a man with nothing to lose. Why? Because I've lost everything. I've been through a fire and I'm not afraid to go through one again. I will fight to the death and you need to know that, Jack. You need to know that I will fight for Tommy. I'll fight you. I'll fight the courts. I'll fight anyone that stands in my way. I made a promise to Tommy's mother and nothing, I mean nothing, will stand in my way." With that I stormed through the door.

That night I dreamt of Jada again. She was floating in the air and twirling in her feathery gown, so lovely, so desirable. But when I reached for her she fluttered away, blowing kisses and promising to return. On Saturday, she said. Saturday was her day off. And she did return on Saturday with a girl. Ping was going to live with us, she said. Ping was a rescue girl and needed a lot of love. Soon she'd dressed Ping in a flowing, feathery dress just like hers and was teaching her how to fly. I wanted to fly too, I told her, just before I woke up to the smell of coffee.

"Amster! Bweakfast!"

On my way to the kitchen I rubbed my eyes. "And this mess would be?"

"Jianbing. Just for you."

"Really? I'm impressed." It looked awful. And yes, it had the beginnings of an oozing pancake, a half-raw egg and several unmentionables. "Does it come cooked?"

"You don't like it?"

I stuck the mess in the microwave. "I like. I just like it hot." I buried 'the thing' in ketchup.

# Chapter Twenty-One

SO, NOW JACKIE CHAN AND I were standing at the back of a Christmas church with huge bunches of red poinsettias on every pew. Bushels of the same flower flanked the altar where Jillian and Marco solemnly stood. The preacher was saying, "Should anyone present know of any reason this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony speak now or forever hold your peace."

Jackie jabbed me in the ribs with his sharp elbow.

"Owe!" I cried, and the wedding guests turned to stare. Jillian and Marco did too. That spurred Billy the Bookie to start taking bets and a low rumble went rolling through the church. "Ten to one," seemed to be the favorite although higher odds were wagered too. A new Lamborghini was in Billy's cards for sure. Jack stood up. He looked handsome in the tailor-made tux he'd bought to wear to all of Jillian's weddings. His sandy curls were freshly trimmed and his mustache was fixed in place by spray.

"What are you doing, Hamster? Did you come just to cause trouble? Does my beautiful daughter not mean more to you than that?"

"She does," I answered like a robot. "A lot more. And she deserves a better man but that's for her to decide. I'm not going to stand in her way." With that I turned and walked from the chapel with Jackie scurrying behind.

After dropping Jackie off in Chinatown, to 'couch it' for the night with Bob and Joe, I headed home. There I lay on my bed fully clothed and still with my Italian loafers on. So what if I'd burned my bridges? It didn't matter anymore. Jack could shove his warehouse up his ass. And slimy Marco could just drop dead. I mean where was a heart attack when a guy needed one, or a stroke? Or, in the sexual deviant Marco's case, HPV? I was lying there thinking even worse thoughts when the intercom rang.

"There is a Mister Chan to see you, Charles," Donald the Doorman announced, like he was about to usher in the queen.

"Tell Willy to go away."

Garbled noises. "He says it is not William. It is Mr. Chan Senior. And you'd better show respect."

Sure, Jack. Send Mr. Chan Senior to guilt-trip me. It was all I needed just then. "Alright, Donald. Show him up. Just don't let him fall off his cane. He won his last law-suit and you don't need him going after you."

"Not funny," I heard Tony say.

In the living room I poured Sharp-dressed Tony a drink. "Why aren't you at the reception?"

The godfather could have come straight from _Guys and Dolls,_ he looked just that dapper. Always handsome, always polished, he looked particularly striking in a dark grey suit, a grey shirt with diamond cufflinks, and a flashy tie with an antique diamond clip. I could see my reflection in his shiny patent shoes as he sat erect in his chair and crossed his legs. "I didn't go to the reception because there wasn't one. Jillian called the wedding off."

"What?"

"She did. Right after you left the church she did too. She just said sorry to Marco. That she couldn't do it. Then she ran away crying."

I poured myself a drink. "The runaway bride. Once again. They make movies about girls like her. What did Jack have to say?"

"Not much. I sat with him until the church cleared. He was pretty shaky."

I tried to care. "I'll bet he was mad, huh."

"It was hard to tell what he was feeling because he doesn't talk about personal stuff. But let's face it, Charlie. Jack's had a bad year. Aside from all Jillian's weddings there have been circumstances. Jillian's wedding to Richard failed because at the last minute, Willy brought proof from Beijing that Richard was Jack's son and therefore Jillian's brother." His eyes twinkled. "Good thing there was no wedding night."

"You're right about that."

"And then there was you, you big mutt. You got shot and nearly died so she felt sorry for you. Good thing the Tahiti wedding was a sham because she said in the end she felt creepy about it. Your having grown up together and all."

"Jillian and I are not related, Tony. So there was nothing to feel creepy about. You know that Jack decided it was never going to happen. End of story. It didn't and it never will. And yes, I wanted her once. But all of that has changed."

He nodded. "And then there was Marco. Jack went to a lot of expense once again for that wedding. And it's not because he didn't know about Marco's reputation with women. He just thought Jillian would settle him down. You know, a family and all. Many wild men have settled down after marriage."

I coughed. "He was already cheating on her. I told her that. I told Jack too. They went ahead anyway. The blind fools."

"Do you know what I think, Charlie? I think Jack saw Marco as Jillian's lifelong lawyer. He thought Marco could keep her permanently out of jail. I think Jack saw his daughter as Marco's full time job."

We both laughed before Tony turned serious.

"On top of all of this, Richard was murdered. Imagine how that must have affected Jack. His new son being brutally murdered. He must have blamed himself on some level for not being able to help. And speaking of a bad year, Jack got himself kidnapped and almost killed. Twice. Do you think he needs anymore punishment this year?"

Well, now I was feeling half-guilty. Tony had done a good job. "Jack betrayed me. He said I could adopt Tommy and then suddenly took him away and gave him to Jillian and slimy Marco. I mean, how could he do that to me? He's supposed to love me."

Tony leaned forward in his chair. "Jack was just testing you. He didn't know whether you wanted to adopt Tommy or not because you hadn't really said. He thought maybe he had trapped you into it and he wanted to give you a way out. He wasn't going to give Tommy to slimy Marco. And had you thought it through you would have known that with Jillian's criminal record she wouldn't have been given Tommy under any circumstance. Mostly she's viewed by the courts as a lunatic. Not even fringe."

It felt good to grin. "You're right. She is. But she's our lunatic." I was thinking. "What if I hadn't wanted Tommy? Where would he have gone?"

"Not that far. Tommy would have stayed right where he is because Julia would have adopted him. Which isn't such a bad idea." He held the palm of his hand in my direction. "Hold on. Don't get huffy. I've been thinking about this, Charlie. Jada was my niece which makes me Tommy's great uncle so I have a vested interest. And yes, I think you should adopt him. I think you are the right person to be Tommy's dad. You'll be a good dad in every way. You'll take him to movies and play video games and treat him to McDonalds. But I want you to think about something. You are a single man with a big job. You are away days and nights and often weekends and sometimes lead a very dangerous life. I'm thinking, just thinking, that maybe after you adopt him, Tommy should stay on with us at 33 Terrace Place. There's a good school in the neighborhood and there's always someone at home. Maya can bake him cookies and Julia and Jillian can cluck over him. Jack can tease him and whenever you're free there'll be another place at the table just for you. Make sense?"

I didn't have to think about it. "Yes. It makes sense. It would be better for Tommy that way. For now. And I'm saying for now. Understand?"

He giggled.

"You look pretty happy, Tony."

"I feel happy. I had no idea this would be so easy." At the revolving door downstairs he turned to me. "I don't suppose you'd care to keep breaking up Jillian's weddings? Poor thing. She can't seem to help herself."

How did I know there'd be an un-wedding party at Jack's house? Because there always was. Shoeshine was serving drinks at the door. "It feels like Halloween, Charlie. I'm handing out drinks to people I don't even know. Did you see them partying on the lawn? I just turned away the twelve-year-old boy next door with phony ID. His dad's. He threw a tantrum too. Geez! What's wrong with kids these days?"

I downed two quick doubles.

Shoeshine eyed me up and down. "You look sad. You should be happy with the outcome today."

"I'm delirious."

"Well, treat her with kid gloves. She's been through the mill."

"Me too." I was starting to feel light headed. I could see Billy the Bookie performing for a group of teenage girls on the lawn. I was going to be just like him when I was seventy-three, I figured. Single and a letch. I snatched two more doubles from the tray, downed them, and plastered a smile on my face. I was ready to talk to Jack now if my tongue still worked. On my way into the living room, Julia grabbed my arm. "You need to talk to her, Charlie. She's locked herself in her bedroom and won't come out."

Julia looked blurry to me. "Who won't come out?"

She gave me the Julia look. The glare. "Have you been drinking?"

"Yup. I'm of legal age now. I can drink until my feet fall off." I was staring at my loafers.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What's wrong with Jillian? Did she lose one of her baby teeth?"

"Charlie! How can you be so insensitive? You know she called off her wedding today."

"How did she manage to do that with no baby teeth? She must have talked with a lisp."

"You're not funny. She told Marco that she was sorry but she just couldn't do it and she ran away. Jack finally found her down in the Village in a bar. In full regalia."

"Did she find another husband? Since she was already dressed for the occasion."

Julia pursed her lips. "I don't know what's wrong with you, Charlie, but something clearly is. It's like you've fallen on your head. Your big thick head." She stomped away.

People were leaving in droves. Or was it swarms? I couldn't quite get it straight so I headed for the bar where Jack interfered. "You're a little woozy there, son. Been drinking some?"

I nodded. "Yup. I've been drinking with myself. My favorite person and your favorite son."

"You're drunker than I thought. You're hallucinating."

"You're not funny."

"Oh, yes. I am." He poured us both a double. "Sip it, moron."

Jack was swaying back and forth now or was that me? Me I decided. I was vacillating back and forth like a metronome, tick tock, tick tock. I keeled over. The next thing I knew, Jack was standing over me with a bottle of booze and splashing it on my face.

"If you're going to be a pig try this. It's called waterboarding. But not in my house. In my house it's called whisky-boarding. Drink up."

"You said you were going to give Tommy to slimy Marco," I managed to blurt. "You didn't even care about me. Or him."

"I was just bugging you, Hamster. But you ran away before I could say sorry."

"You're not sorry."

He poured another splash on my face. "Am too. I was wrong to bug you when you've been sick. And through so much. I apologize. I am sorry. Tommy belongs with you. Right, Tommy?"

Tommy was hopping up and down on my chest. "I'm Amster's boy! Amster is my man!"

I could feel myself being lifted by a pair of strong arms and dumped into a chair. Thanks, Shoeshine, I wanted to say before a soft voice whispered in my ear. "I'm sorry, Hampton. I'm so sorry for your loss. I should have paid more attention to you. You've been going through hell and I've been so wrapped up in that damn court case I forgot about you. You tried to tell me about Marco and others did too. Julia told me stories and I knew myself from the first time around with him. I just got swept away by his oratory skills and I confused that with love. At the altar today I knew I couldn't go through with it, even before you cried 'owe'. But thanks, Bro. I needed that little boost. I'm going to bed now but I just wanted you to know that I hear Jada was a very beautiful and gutsy girl. Just your type."

The following morning I woke up with a smoldering headache. Furthermore, I didn't know where I was. It was pitch dark where I'd slept and I couldn't find a light. When finally I managed to feel my way to the door all I could see was trees. A lot of trees. Alright, then. I'd slept in a forest. That was a first. While I confess to waking in the bed of a strange woman, or two, I'd never actually slept with a tree. I felt foolish. But as my eyes adjusted to the surroundings I was happy to recognize a birch clump in the atrium on Jack's fourth level, and to know that a bathroom was near.

In the kitchen, Tony was mixing a hangover concoction especially for me. Into a blender he splashed tomato juice, Worcestershire sauce, tabasco, a raw egg and several potent glugs of vodka. He poured the mixture into a frosted mug.

I forced my wounded body onto a stool at the island and groaned. "I'm not up to that shit this morning. I'm sick." Vancouver was sick too and had gone to sleep under a blanket of thick dark clouds. I could see nothing but greyness through a wall of kitchen windows.

"Poor baby. Should I feed you with a spoon? Just try a little sip."

I did. "You always surprise me, Tony. It never tastes as bad as it looks."

"I told you. You were pretty funny last night, lying on the floor with Jack pouring booze on your face."

"I didn't feel funny. I felt sad."

He nodded his old grey head. "I know, Charlie. I know. You haven't had time to digest Beijing yet. But drinking isn't going to fix that. Only time will help. And I'm not going to lecture about time healing the wounds either because it doesn't. They just get a little less deep. I've had tragedy in my life too. A lot of it. When my three brilliant nephews were massacred in Tiananmen Square I thought I'd die. I had headaches so bad I couldn't see. For weeks, I couldn't see. I thought about dying too before a message came into my head, from where I couldn't exactly say. It said, 'You can't let anything beat you, Tony. You can never let anything beat you.' And do you know what, Charlie? Nothing ever has."

# Chapter Twenty-Two

I LEFT 33 TERRACE PLACE before the house stirred due to a message from Willy. _Urgent. I've ordered breakfast to my condo and don't be late._ I arrived to a smorgasbord of pastries and eggs three ways: omelet, frittata and Benedict. "What? No Jianbing?"

"Jianbing is street food and has to be eaten there. Next time we're knife-fighting for our lives in an ally, I'll treat you."

We filled our plates and carried them to the banquette near a bank of windows overlooking the ocean below. Willy's West End penthouse wasn't far from mine except in price range. His guest bathroom was the size of my whole place.

"I don't want you to scream," he started. "Promise you won't scream."

Well, it was hard to scream with a mouthful. I nodded.

"The drugs are gone. They've disappeared from Jack's warehouse."

"Holy shit! How did that happen?"

"If I knew I'd have them back, wouldn't I?"

I nodded. I knew nothing so I just kept eating. "When?"

"Last night."

"Did anybody see anything?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Shipments come and go as you know. And that particular shipment was claimed."

"With paperwork?"

"Yes, of course."

"Phony paperwork, obviously. That shipment did have a bill of lading with a tracking number. Right?"

"Right."

"You changed the destination but you couldn't have changed the physical papers. Not online."

"Correct. The shipment arrived intact. I checked it at Jack's warehouse. Every barrel was marked."

"And in order to claim that shipment for transport the tracking number had to be known. Whew! Who knew that number?"

"Do you mean besides me? I got it from Reynolds, indirectly. And Reynolds got it from hacking into Richard's business activities." He squinted at me. "And I know what you're going to say but the answer is no. Reynolds could not have stolen the shipment back since there's no online record of it ever arriving at Jack's warehouse."

"How do you know?"

"I destroyed it. Right after the drugs arrived. Reynolds could not have known at that point in time since he was still under the assumption the drugs were on their way to Pearson."

"But there's a paper record. Or was. There's a man who knows a lot. This man destroyed the shipping documents. Maybe I talk too much, I don't know. He thought he was doing me a favor but maybe he was just blowing smoke up my ass. However, if Biker had intensions to steal the drugs he wouldn't have mentioned anything to me at all, would he?"

"It's unlikely."

"I'm thinking it had to be an inside job. Or at least someone with access to the warehouse. First off, they had to have known the shipment was there. It could have been one of Jack's boys but I don't think so."

"Me either. They're not the type. Weed, maybe. But if they couldn't smoke it they wouldn't be interested. Additionally, the tarp was tightly secured. I checked it every day. If someone had been messing with it I would have known."

"What about Jack?"

"Na. Jack's too lazy to walk that far. That shipment was at the very back of the warehouse, almost in a cave. Besides, had Jack found it he would have turned it in. He's not into drugs of any kind."

"But we know someone was into that shipment at some point in time. They had to have copied the barrel numbers in order to produce the paperwork. All I know is that Biker knew the shipment was there."

Willy shrugged. "I don't know a lot of bikers. I don't know how they think. But it sounds like a good place to start."

After Willy's place I stopped by the Vancouver courthouse, which conveniently housed the jail, to talk to Peter Selic, Julia's romantic interest and Jack's crooked cop. Tall and Nordic looking, Peter ploughed his fingers through his thick blond hair. He ushered me into a meeting room.

"What are you doing with that shit!" he lectured. "You're better than that!"

I thought so too. "We planned to turn it in. Willy stole it for that purpose alone. It's just that we got busy."

"You don't sit on that kind of shit. And what's the matter with Willy that he's still stealing things? The guy is loaded."

"Well, it's sort of an addiction. He can't seem to help himself. But there was a method to his madness. I'm still looking for Richard's killer and indirectly, he is too. When he learned, by hacking into Reynolds computer, this shipment was sent by Richard before he died, well. We wanted to know who was on the other end."

"Did you find out?"

"No. It was destined for holding to be picked up. And since he didn't know when, he decided to steal it from Reynolds who had hijacked it from Richard."

Peter laughed. "Just thinking about the brain power of those two crazies makes me dizzy. I mean, what kind of life is that?"

"Well, with Reynolds it's a full-time job. But he gets a great kick out of stealing, I learned, from personally monitoring him. He's agoraphobic, as you know, so internet theft is his life. With Willy it's just a game. He does it for a hobby."

"And what is it that you want from me, my friend?"

"I want you to stay close. I may need you."

"Again? Am I to come in shooting this time?"

"With me you never know."

I stopped by Jack's warehouse basically because he asked me to. It was take your child to work day and he'd brought along a substitute, his grandchild. To translate he'd lugged Billy along too. Both boys had shiny faces and were dressed in green-striped shirts. They mobbed me at the door with a lot of Amsters.

"Preparing them for the chain gang, are you Jack? I mean the stripes?"

"Don't blame me. It's that fat Hilda Julia hired. She knows less English than Tommy and is supposed to tutor him too. I don't know what language she speaks but just know that Tommy is going to speak English with a Norwegian accent. Or Polish."

Tommy slugged me in the gut.

"Hey!" I hollered. "What are you doing, Tommy?"

He grinned.

Billy came to his defense. "He's fighting. Pway fighting. It's what kids do."

"Did you teach him that, Billy? How to play fight?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So, do you want a black eye? Cause I can play fight too."

"Nice!" Jack roared from his desk. "Get down on their level, Hamster. The adoption agency will like that."

"The adoption agency?"

He handed me the papers. "You need to fill these out. We're going to immigration this afternoon to get the ball rolling. We need to keep Tommy in the country, in case you forgot. It'll be a process but we have to show intent. Julia is coming along for backup so we'll get some respect."

Tommy gave me one last slug for good luck. "I beat you up, Amster. I beat you up."

"Thanks, Tommy. Can you at least say dad?"

He giggled. "Ok _fucking_ dad."

I chased Billy into the warehouse.

The bar on _East Hastings Street_ had changed if only to me. It was still dark and dingy but now with a sense of gloom, even doom, hanging in the air. I felt betrayed. That old Biker was going to bite it, rest assured. But if he'd been involved in the heist in any way he hid it well with denial.

"Look, Copper." He looked me dead straight in the eye. "If I wanted to get rich from dope I'd have done it long ago. I've seen a lot of shit come and go in my day. I could be sitting in the Arab Emirates with my harem counting oil wells, not hanging out in the grungiest bar in town. I'm not a high-flyer in case you haven't noticed. And, quite frankly, I resent the implication." With that he leapt off his stool and stomped to the door.

I felt guilty. Biker was a decent guy and yes, I had to ask. It's my job. It's a lonely job, given my habit of deeply offending people. Biker now topped the list of friends who'd never speak to me again.

Robocop wasn't going to talk to me much either. He'd been sitting in a booth with colleagues and only dropped by on his way out. "Ready to talk yet, son?"

I nodded. "It rained today."

"It rains every day at this time of year. Got your Christmas shopping done?"

"Can't. It's against my religion. I've turned Muslim."

"What's it like to be just a total shit?" He, too, stomped away.

Red even tried. She leaned over the bar to tease me with her beautiful freckled breasts. "Do you want to take me home tonight, Charlie?"

"Yes, I do. But part of me isn't working right now so you might want to try again later. Like maybe next summer."

She almost hit me. "What kind of game are you playing? You're a complete asshole, you know." Needless to say, she thumped away too.

Batting a thousand I took to the streets trying to whistle by blowing air. I had bad memories of that part of town and was glad the panhandlers were avoiding the torrents of rain. I was happy for the thieves and robbers, too, who'd be taking the night off to watch _Cops_ on TV. And I was happy for Tina, who'd taken a bullet for me at this exact location, and was now enjoying her studies at UBC. It was just me that couldn't get happy and I seemed destined to feel that way for the next thousand years.

Funny, but I kept smelling a cop. I'd been smelling a cop for days now and it didn't smell sweet. Sure, I have my share of enemy cops, from previous gigs and such, but the law enforcer reeking this kind of perfume was a different kind of rat. It was a rat in sheep's clothing, if you know what I mean, a rat in a different kind of coat. A sneaky rat that didn't even warn me before starting to shoot.

Well, there I went again, hitting the ground and rolling to the safety of my Beemer where I fired back. Ok. There were two rats, one of which I managed to hit right away. The second rat fought hard but my Gloc 9 rose to the occasion, silencing him too. Great. I had two dead cops on my hands, I was thinking, as I dialed 911. I was going to spend a lovely Christmas in jail. My next call was to Peter who met me at the scene.

"Nice, Charlie. You did nice. One guy is still breathing. For how long they don't know. But the other guy is toast."

"What can I say? I fought back. They came out of nowhere."

"What is it with you and killing cops? Am I to be nervous around you?"

"Not unless you fire first. Do you know either of these guys?"

"Maybe I did. Before you blew their faces off. But I'll come with you to the station. It's going to be a long night."

And it was. And a long next day, December 24th. I was released just in time to start my Christmas shopping, late afternoon. Luckily, Willy met me at _Gaming Hoard_ and knew all the cool games. It would be Billy's job to show Tommy the ropes. And, of course, there were games for Billy and Jackie too.

"I'm going to give Jack socks," I said. "Since that's all he ever gave me. A stocking full of socks."

"And about five hundred presents under the tree, between you and Jillian. I remember coming with my mom on Christmas Eve and thinking how lucky you were." Willy, you see, never had a dad.

"Are you trying to say that you never had Christmas presents?"

"No. I was spoiled too. Kow Gong always appeared with a bushel of gifts and my mom was successful too. Also, my numerous Chinatown relatives would pour in Christmas Day for turkey and always brought presents along. I was lucky too."

Next it was _Cartier_ for gift certificates for Julia, Jillian and Maya, and _Harry Rosen_ for some flashy ties for the men, including Shoeshine. Fortunately, I had my own style expert along, in the way of Willy Chan. Funny, how the store clerks stood in awe of him when he shook his shiny dark hair. Slick Willy Chan oozed class.

Christmas Day came and went and we had snow – not a lot and not for long – but snow nevertheless. On Boxing Day, Jackie moved back in with Bob and Joe, since the new girl got evicted for non-payment of rent. Funny how she thought sleeping with both boys covered her financially. Anyway, the boys were happy to have a paying roommate back on the couch.

_Vancouver General_ was starting to get on my nerves. Jack had recovered there. Tina had recovered there. And now a guy I didn't even know was fighting for his life. I cared. Poor dumb bugger likely didn't have a choice. Parked on a chair outside critical care sat a small, dark-haired woman in a tweed coat. Her eyes were glued to the floor.

"I'm sorry about your son, mam," I said.

She didn't look up. "Are you the guy that shot him?"

"Yes."

"Why? Vinny is a good boy. He's always been a good boy. And he missed Christmas."

A lump sat in my throat. "I didn't want to shoot him. I just shot back."

She nodded. "Are you a criminal?"

"No. I'm a detective. A private investigator."

"Why was he shooting at you?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out. He had orders from someone. Someone higher up." I didn't bother to tell her that the two assailants gave me no warning, like 'stop in the name of the law' or 'come out with your hands up' although I wasn't inside.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this, mam. And hopefully clear your son."

"That's nice," she said, without looking up. "Why don't you do that?"

Peter appeared just then and the two of us went inside. Vinny was young. No more than twenty-three with a baby face. And fortunately, that face was intact.

Peter rubbed his arm. "How are you doing, Vin? Lots of hot chicks in here, huh? Hot nurses?" He turned to me. "Vinny works in District 1. In the drug division under your buddy, Coppilani."

I felt sick. And yes, I'd felt sick for a few weeks but now I felt really sick. "He's going to make it, Peter. Vinny is going to make it."

"Damn right he is. You hang in there, Vin, and we'll be back when you're able to talk."

The seedy bar on _East Hastings Street_ had changed yet again. Red was gone and my buddy, Gregorian, was back. In sign language, I threw down a fifty, he cracked a fresh bottle of CC, poured a double for each of us and one for the biker at the end of the bar who promptly threw the booze over his shoulder. Then he shot me a look that could kill an elephant.

Whew! It was going to be a rough night.

"Did you have to piss Angela off? You really hurt her feelings. She cried, you know."

"I didn't mean to. She's a lovely woman and deserves better than me."

"I know that. But she thought you guys had a thing."

"We did. But then things changed. It's not her fault. In a previous life I'd have dragged her to my cave and kept her there with a boulder."

"I'll tell her that. I'm sure she'll feel a lot better after that."

Robocop arrived to straddle a stool. "How are you doing, son?"

If he was waiting for me to buy him a drink he'd be waiting a long time. "Better than you since you'll be going away for a while."

He sunk into his big brown coat. "Yeah? What makes you say that?"

"A guy named Vinny. From your district. Vinny had a lot of things to say."

His face turned ashen white and he shook his flabby jowls. "I doubt that."

"Why?"

"Because I hear that Vinny is in a comma."

"Well he is. He's in and out. Ranting about stolen drugs. He didn't even know they were drugs. Or stolen. He and his partner just picked up a few oil barrels. But then he was told he had transported drugs and could be put away for life if he didn't silence a guy who was about to squeal. You know, blow the whistle. This guy was an informant, a snitch, and earned dirty money. He wouldn't give up until everyone involved had been put away."

Robo signaled for a drink. "You're good. It could have happened that way."

"There's a kid fighting for his life, Robo. And another one dead. And you don't feel responsible?"

"I'm not the one that shot them. You are."

"I want to know why you did it, that's all. And you might as well tell because we've confiscated the drugs from the storage unit. You left a trail."

He slipped so far into his coat that his eyes were barely visible. "No particular reason. Not one I'd be giving you, anyway. Maybe I wanted to buy an island for my retirement. Maybe I just wanted what everyone around me had. Luxury. I don't know. I did it on impulse. I heard the biker telling you that oil barrels were going to Jack's warehouse and I've been around long enough to know exactly what that meant. So, I said. Why not me? I sent one of our guys to get the shipment ID."

"And did this guy happen to be Vinny?"

Pink crept into his cheeks. "I couldn't say."

"You know what I don't understand, Robo? Why you went after me. You were not a suspect in my mind. Not even close."

"I would have been. It was just a matter of time. I know you. I know your tenacity. You wouldn't have given up. You would have followed a trail that led directly to me."

"What did you plan to do with the shipment?"

"Well, knowing you, son, you'll enjoy the irony. I didn't even know."

Selic arrived to pat Robo on the back. "Sir? Your ride awaits."

Robo slowly stood up. Only then did it occur to me that he was really old and, I truly hoped, not long for this world. In the morning there was good news from the hospital. Corporal Vinny had asked for a bowl of soup.

I decided not to attend Jack's New Year's Eve party, knowing full well the consequences. And since I was in the process of burning bridges I needed to listen to that something sticking in my craw. I headed over _The Lions Gate Bridge_ and took _Marine Drive_ out of town _._ The long winding driveway leading to the big beach house on the ocean smelled of pine needles, jasmine, and homemade soap. I parked my car and walked out back to the tennis court to enjoy the breakers crashing to the shore. It felt eerie with Richard gone and the house boarded up and without the guards, the Dobermans, the guns. I walked through the trees and up a narrow path to the back patio doors which, surprisingly, were easily forced open. Inside, the games room was dark enough to traumatize a bat but since I'd been tied up there, and held hostage, I knew the room all too well – the mahogany billiards table, the rosewood flooring, the well-stocked bar. I tapped the flashlight on my iPhone and made my way to the whisky where I poured myself a stiff one.

"I'll have one too," said a familiar voice in a pleasant English accent.

I leapt about a foot. I mean, Richard Chang in the flesh? "Jesus Christ!" I hollered.

"I've been called much worse. But I'll take the compliment."

Talk about mixed emotions! Relief mixed with the desire to snuff him out. He turned on the electric fireplace which shed some light on the room. "Well, Charlie, old boy. Why don't we get drunk together? Sing songs, etcetera. Since it will likely be our last night together."

"Why? Are you planning to ice me? You'd be doing me a favor."

He almost smiled. "No. I'm not that generous. And I'm not going to waste my energy since you're like a cat. You don't seem to kill very easily."

"Apparently, neither do you."

He carried a tray to the ottoman. "A bottle of CC for you. Single malt scotch for me. Do you think we have enough?"

"That depends. On what you have to tell me." I took the chair on the other side of the fire.

"It isn't pretty."

"I didn't think so. Why don't you start with your twin? The guy in the morgue."

He nodded. "Well, that was the hard part. We had to kill him, of course. And he was a relative which made it so much worse."

I choked on my booze.

"Well, it had to be someone who looked somewhat like me or it wouldn't have worked. He was shorter but no one would know that since he was lying down. And brown-eyed while mine are hazel but that's a minor point. The mortician, a member of my organization, fixed him to resemble me as much as possible. Oh, don't look so glum, Charlie. We gave him a heroin injection. The torture came after he was dead."

"Now I feel a lot better. What about the earring?"

"I have it back. You don't think I'm stupid enough to burn a million dollars, do you? Not that I'm poor but that gem was given to me by my aunt."

"Do you mean your mother?"

"I never knew her as my mother. I only knew her as my aunt until Willy started snooping around. She was only my mother for a short time so, if you'll forgive me, I'm going to remember her as my aunt."

"You know that she's dead."

"Yes. While I previously had no communication with Beijing my envoy arrived last night."

"Do you know the circumstances of her death?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"And nothing. It's how we roll. It could have been you. Or Willy. Except that it was her. Luck of the draw, I suppose."

I sat back to let things sink in. Impossible. My skin had become too thick. "Do you know that Jada is dead too?"

"Yes. Zu killed her. She was interfering with his business."

"Human trafficking?"

"As I understand it, yes. Zu is into a lot of things but knowing Jada, yes."

I was chewing on my lip. "You don't happen to know what happened to Albert Noe, do you? You were a client of his, I believe."

He nodded. "Reynolds once worked for me, as you know. During this time, Albert was making good money for Mini so I thought he'd do the same for me. But he stole from me. And no one steals from Richard Chang."

"But you were supposedly dead when Albert died. And I assume hiding out here."

"You suppose correctly. But have you met my associates? Have you met King Kong Chin, for instance?"

"The Butcher?"

At the top of the stairs, King, Freddie, and Shorty were practicing their 'pleasing Richard' smiles.

I almost fell off my chair.

Richard spoke to them in Chinese and they backed away.

"Surely they weren't the ones about to collect the heroin shipment at this end?"

He chortled. "No. Prince Lee Lu was my new Leo here. He was about to collect it."

"The tattoo artist?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately, he failed in his task. So, you know what that means."

I felt sick. I felt tired. Ok. So, I felt sick and tired. Luckily, there was no tracing anything to Willy or me. "Why did you do it, Richard? Why did you fake your own death?"

"For reasons most people do it, I assume. My life was in danger. You've done your research, Charlie. You know the fierce competition between the Triad factions. I got too big too soon. The drug lords wanted to take me out. So, now I'm dead because someone succeeded in doing just that."

I thought about it. "What are your plans moving forward? Surely you don't want to live in a boarded-up house."

He grinned. "I'm starting over. I've changed my identity and am leaving for California tonight. As you know, I have substantial interests there. Real estate holdings, casinos, and so on."

"Because of Willy."

"Yes. Willy was a great help. And he will be again. I'll be taking Willy with me."

Someone let out a loud gasp and I think it was me. "Willy knew all along?"

"No. But he does now. He has a tracking device on your phone. I expect him at any minute."

"How do you know about the tracking device?"

"He told the boys in Beijing. They had a great laugh over it."

Nice. "I'm glad I'm able to bring so much humor into people's lives."

"You're alright, Charlie. I'm sorry about Jada, though. I'm sorry for both of us. She was my first love. And Jillian was my last. Funny how we've loved the same women, isn't it?"

"You do know you have a son."

He took a deep breath. "I've always suspected the boy was mine. But Jada wouldn't admit it. She said he was the product of a one night stand. I knew otherwise because Jada wasn't that kind of girl. But she gave him up for adoption so end of story. It made sense, given my reputation. She didn't respect me much."

"I found him after Jada died. His name is Tommy. He's at Jack's house and I'm going to adopt him."

Richard stood up to pour our refills. "I'm shocked."

"You're not easy to shock. Why are you shocked?"

"Well." He sat back down. "Not to be rude but you put yourself first. Always. I can't imagine you looking after a kid. How old is he, thirteen?"

"He just had his fourteenth birthday."

"Well, maybe that's alright, then. He can look after you."

"You're not funny. You don't want him for yourself?"

"Well, it isn't a case of wanting him. Of course, I want him. But I'm a drug lord. There will always be a price on my head, no matter what name I go under. My home will never be a safe place for a kid."

"He looks like you, by the way."

He sat back in his chair. "I'm glad he looks like me. I'm a handsome guy, aren't I"

My whisky came up through my nose. "None better. Maybe me, but that's it. And Willy who is just walking through the door behind you."

Slick Willy Chan shook his shiny dark hair and smiled. "Well, old friend. Welcome back from the dead."

Epilogue

On New Year's Day I was sitting in my office sulking. Between my two hands was a package from Beijing addressed to me, in my own handwriting. It had been sitting on my desk for days, haunting me, and begging for it not to mingle with garbage. I set it back on the pile just as an unwanted guest appeared in the doorway.

"I thought we might make amends," boomed Marco Midolo, in his phony baritone voice. "It being the new year and all."

I squinted at him. "We don't like each other, Marco. It's not about amends. It's not about I say sorry and you say sorry. Friends. Not going to happen." I kept my feet on top of my nice tin desk."

"Are you at least going to ask me in?"

I pointed to the ratty armchair across from me. "Please."

"Thank you."

"So, is this a please and thank you occasion, Overcoat?" Well, he was wearing a silly purple raincoat. "If so, I'm going to start by asking how you knew I'd be in my office on New Year's Day."

He choked on a giggle. "It was a good guess. Rumor is, you live here."

He was annoying the hell out of me so I pointed to Mike. "Do you like my horse?"

He nodded. "Does he have a name? Other than Chestnut Gelding?"

"He does. His name is Marco."

He widened his glassy black eyes. "I'm impressed. Why did you call him Marco?"

Open door for Hampton. "Because he's a horse's ass."

He almost laughed. "You just can't quit, can you, Charlie. You just can't stop with the wisecracks. But I actually stopped by today to thank you for your referral. Robert Coppilani. It'll be a big one. The city will be spellbound. Crooked cop. A detective who knew too much. I can hardly wait to get you on the stand." With that he tipped his hat to me and headed for the door.

Nice. No sooner had Marco disappeared than my cell rang. It was Billy and Tommy wanting to know when I'd be there to pick them up to see the latest Jackie Chan movie. Billy wasn't happy though. It should be Billy Chan, he said. Why Jackie? I told him that Jackie's little brother, Billy, was about to make his debut in his own movie, coming soon. Then I heard Billy telling Tommy that Amster was full of shit.

So, I picked the package up again. It was a package from the past better left there so I tossed it in the garbage. New year. New beginning. I gave my head a shake.

In the doorway stood my second visitor of the day. Immaculate in his chauffeur's uniform, Tony grinned at me. "Cleaning house, Charlie?"

"Maybe. Do you want to jump into the basket too?"

"Don't be cheeky. I have a passenger in my car who'd like to speak with you."

"What's the matter? He's too old to climb the stairs?"

"He chooses not to. Is that a problem for you?"

"No. I can still run up and down the stairs. Until he chops my legs off, that is. Is he mad at me?"

He nodded. "You know I don't get into family stuff. But you might have shown up last night. For a minute or two. He counts on your being there every year. It means a lot to him. He likes to have all his family on New Year's Eve."

"My bad. I'll say sorry."

"Damn right you will. And before we go to him I want to clear something up. The other morning at Jack's house I may have come over weak. I may have sounded like a good person but you know very well I'm not. I am a mafia boss. A godfather. Although I have the best cover possible, as far as the law is concerned, I run a business. Not a pretty business. Money laundering like Jack, yes, but so much more. Casinos and loansharking and other not so nice things."

"But not drugs."

"Not drugs. But that doesn't make me any better than the drug lords. What do you think happens to the people who can't pay back their loans?"

I shuddered.

He nodded.

We headed down the stairs.

Inside the wide back seat of the old Phantom 1V, I blurted out. "I was planning on coming for dinner tonight. When I brought the boys back from the movie."

"Who says you're invited?"

Alright. I was being spanked. "Sorry. I got tied up last night."

"Not acceptable. That's always your excuse, Hamster. I got tied up," he whined in a baby voice.

"Well. Sometimes it's literally the truth. Like when Richard had me kidnapped. And speaking of your new son, Richard. He just happens to be alive."

"What?" His eyes widened to saucer size. "What?"

"I saw him last night. At his beach house. He's alive and on his way to California. With his goons, of course. And Willy."

"What?"

"You sound like a parrot, Jack. Richard faked his own death. Why? Because his rival Triad bosses wanted him dead. He got too big too soon. So he's setting up in California under an assumed name. He and Willy were talking business when I left last night."

"What? Willy too?"

"It looks that way."

He took a big deep breath. "Damn! I paid for that funeral, you know. And the elaborate after dinner. Richard owes me."

I laughed. "You paid for his wedding too. Although it ended poorly. And I have this feeling you'll be paying for him again. Richard Chang isn't finished with us yet. Not even close."

He leaned back on the headrest. "Well, son. Since you've shared your good news I also have news for you. Bad news. I wanted to tell you last night but you didn't show. So, here goes. You've been denied as the adoptive parent for Tommy. And just wait, because it isn't all bad."

I gasped. "No? No?"

"Now you're sounding like the parrot. You were denied due to the fact that you've killed a few people. At least five on record. But you're suspect in more."

"In self-defense! I've never, ever killed a man in cold blood."

"Doesn't matter. They don't seem to give children to killers. Likely because you live a dangerous life."

I couldn't even swallow. "So what will happen to Tommy now?"

"That's the good news. As you know, Julia applied as back-up and Tommy has been awarded to her. Funny, isn't it? The only non-criminal in our family. And, of course, they couldn't deny her. She sits on every board in this town."

I sat back to think.

"Your role will be the same, Hamster. Tommy was going to live with us anyway. You'll just be his uncle now instead of his dad, that's all. Does it really matter? Julia is his biological aunt, remember. And now she's going to be his mother. She'll expect your participation in every way."

I finally nodded. "Yeah. It's best for Tommy. I was going to come and go like an uncle anyway. As long as Tommy's happy, that's the main thing."

Jack slugged me on the arm. "Piss on those people who say you're not a good sport."

"I'm not."

"So, we'll see you for cocktails at five."

Back in my office, with my feet raised to the top of my nice tin desk, I studied the brown package in the garbage. Tomorrow it would be gone and my life would go on as usual. But who was I kidding? Bad enough I lied to other people I was now lying to myself. What life? Dead-end signs flashed before me as I nodded off. Then came Jada in her feathery dress, twirling a dead-end sign like a baton. Willy came along, also carrying a dead-end sign, and leading a marching band right past me without looking my way. No, he was heading somewhere without me, leaving me behind. To LA, I thought.

"You're snoring," someone said.

I gave me head a shake. "I thought you were in California."

Willy smiled that infectious Willy smile. "Na. I didn't have a tooth brush on me. You know how I am about my teeth."

I knew. Whiter teeth came only on tooth paste commercials. "Nice of you to stop by. Is this a last call?"

"It could be. But I thought I'd drop by for a New Year's drink."

"I'll have to ask Robert if he'll share. He's stingy when it comes to his water."

"I'll have a grown-up drink, thank you."

"I only have whisky."

"Do you have any coke?"

I checked my bar fridge. "I have orange juice."

He nodded. "I'll take it. Anything to kill the taste."

So, we sat there, my old buddy and I, feet up on the desk.

"When are you off to California? I assume you found your tooth paste."

"I'm not going to California. It isn't in the cards."

I was suddenly smiling inside. "Why not? I thought you were Richard's man."

"Right. I am Willy's man. No one has ever owned me and no one ever will."

"I know that. But I thought you might want to go off to California. A new adventure and stuff."

"There's nothing new in California. I set it all up for Richard, remember. So, now what would he need me to do? Keep books?" He shook his shiny, shoulder-length hair. "Do I look like an accountant to you?"

"No. You look like a hired killer."

He laughed. "Do you want to hear something funny, Hampton? You're going to knock yourself out laughing when I tell you Richard's new name. Richard is now going by Charles Richard Hampton."

We almost fell off our chairs howling.

"Great. So, when will the drug lords be coming after me?"

"Well, they likely won't find you for a while in Columbia."

"That was a strange thing to say."

Willy's brown eyes sparkled with trouble. "Well, Kow Gong is moving into South America. And he thinks that you and I should tag along. What do you think?"

I mulled the matter for exactly one second. Since there was nothing written in stone, or otherwise, in my calendar I said, "I think we should drink a toast to South America."

After Willy had gone I rescued the brown paper package from the garbage. Inhaling deeply, I unwrapped the framed selfie I'd taken of Jada and I on our _Great Wall of China_ excursion. After kissing her I set her on my desk. I was now ready to let her back into my life.

"I will not be beaten," I told lovely Jada. "I will never be beaten."

