

Jack the Keeper

By

Pringle McCloy

Copyright: Jack the Keeper

Category: Literary

Innovation, Science and Economic Development Canada

April 23, 2018

1149229

# Prologue

THE WEDDING DAY BEGAN QUIETLY, so quietly I had too much time to think. What was Emily Chan thinking marrying Jack? And did this serious error in judgement make her son, Willy, my surrogate brother? Now in their late fifties if Jack and Emily had a child would I be disinherited along with drug lord, Richard Chang, Jack's biological son? If that's confusing to you, what about me?

_In a nutshell, I was a stolen child. While some people believed I'd been rescued from the funeral chapel after my parent's crash I knew better. I knew that Jack just wanted a clone and that as a kid I was gullible. Yes, he'd been my dad's employer and felt a sense of guilt since I'd been orphaned. Great start. At age ten I was pouring his whisky and staying up late at night humoring him, along with his crony, Tony Chan, yawning and listening to stories that weren't remotely funny. I mean, how funny is freshly laundered money? Or the kiss of expiry? And yes, there were a lot of Chans in my life and I wasn't even Chinese_.

So, at almost forty, and a hotshot PI with slick dark hair and eyes the color of a swimming pool on a sunny summer day, I wanted to run away from home. But since Jillian had already done that I'd only look like a copycat. Yes, she left me again, two days after the wedding, just because I didn't want kids. Can you believe it? Maybe she should have asked that question before buying the big white dress. Well, Jack bought it, actually, to the tune of tens of thousands, but that didn't make me like kids any better. I had nightmares about the little ankle bitters, in fact. They mostly came out of the woodwork like mice, chewing on my leg and even after I swatted them away they kept coming back calling me Dad. They just didn't get it. Jillian didn't either. I knew this for certain after receiving the annulment papers from France, easy to ignore since they were written in French. She loved me. I loved her. Maybe we could meet in the middle and just get half a kid.

So, there I was again, standing at the church doors and dragging on a cigarette while watching the parade of collector cars arrive. Jack's gang was cruising in led by Sharp-dressed Tony, Sammy, and various gangsters looking for free food and booze and high-class hookers too, since Jack wasn't cheap. He bought the best for his boys and even paid for their funerals if they happened to catch the clap. The good news was that Jack's boys were mostly over the hill and were more likely to die of natural causes, given the choice. He paid for those funerals too.

"You know I've never liked you," said a familiar voice behind me. "And I'll be damned if I'm going to be related to you. It pisses me off that I have to kill you now."

I turned to face my lifelong best bud, Sir William Chan, although only knighted in Chinatown. And if you haven't met Willy yet let me say you're in for a treat. Firstly, he's about the best-looking guy you'll ever see, present, past or future. Willy wears his shiny dark, shoulder-length hair parted in the middle and his round eyes speckled-brown. He wears his teeth pearly-white and they glisten when he smiles and Willy has a lot to smile about. Willy is a thief. Not a bank-robber but a computer-hacking genius who likely knows your bank account number and your balance — however if you're not in Forbes you're safe. He only robs the big guys. Then there is the Triad money and, as a double agent, what he earns working for Jack.

He smiled the infectious Willy smile. "I haven't liked you since you shot that damn canary and blamed me."

I punched him on the shoulder. I did shoot the neighbor's canary, in fact. Then I gave the bibi gun to Willy and made him shoot the bird too after it was dead so he couldn't tell a lie. "We were ten years old, bud. Give it up."

"You were a bully. Still are."

I laughed. Since Willy had an IQ of three hundred and ten my only advantage was my size. I had to beat him at something. "Want a fat lip?"

"Want a little lead (Pb) in your ear? With an AK 47?"

"My dad is going to fuck your mom tonight."

He giggled. "You're such an ass, Hampton." With that he shook his shiny dark hair and sauntered into the church.

I was talking about my surrogate dad, to be exact. Jack never bothered to adopt me and it pissed me off when people said how much we were alike. "Two peas in a pod," some people said but those people happened to be gangsters and thugs who knew very little about peas in a pod. Digging shallow graves, maybe, or dumping bodies off a bridge. This they knew something about.

Could there be more Chans? Absolutely. It was all Tony's fault. Tony and his lovely wife, Maya, occupied the guest house at 33 Terrace Place and served as chauffeur and cook, respectively. The problem? Tony came with flaws connecting him to casino high roller rooms in Macau. Additional flaws caused him to smuggle his illegal-alien nephews into Port Vancouver. So, Billy and Jackie Chan had worked for me on various assignments, some of them even legal, and were about to work for me again but I leap ahead. Thing One and Thing Two were giggling behind my back.

"Amster!" Jackie's hair stood straight as a brush atop his head, three inches high. "You look like a penguin." The brothers were wearing the identical suits Willy had bought for their trip to Santa Ana. Another story. But it was Jack's fault they called me Amster. My sir name being Hampton, Jack christened me Hamster the day he brought me home from my parent's funeral and it stuck. But new to English the new Canadians did the best they could.

Billy's brown eyes flashed. "Amster. Sorry but we didn't bring any fish."

So, they were comedians now. I didn't like my tux any better than they did. "Keep it up and I'll break your fucking necks."

They giggled. "You know what Shorty said, Amster. In California." Jackie hopped around making fists and jabbing like a boxer. "Shorty said you couldn't fight your way out of a wet paper bag."

Speak of the devil. Richard and his Triad goons came prancing up the stairs looking tough. I didn't flinch. As I've said before I was taller than Shorty Poo, thinner than Fat Freddie Fong, and only a tad scared of King Kong Chin, _the Butcher_.

Jackie and Billy weren't so confident. "Here comes Wichard. The big cwiminal. Let's hide." They dashed into the church.

As the handsome Asian drug lord led his troops towards me I remembered first seeing the foursome from my spying suite across from Leo _the Lizard_ Cheng, with whom Jack was embroiled in a bitter takeover battle. That was before Leo tried unsuccessfully to swim in the ocean dead.

Flashback:

Soon the service elevator clanged and when the door to Leo's suite flew open my chin hit my chest. There they were! The big boys. Four of the most formidable dudes on the planet. Enter the boss, Richard 'the Cleaver' Chang, who stretched well above six-feet and oozed an air of importance, a presence mostly acquired at maturity, not mastered at thirty-three. He was a handsome devil too, with chiseled Asian features and the sharp eyes of a falcon. He meant business in his expensive, dark-olive suit and with his hair slicked seriously back, like he was suddenly DeNiro late for a funeral on the lot. There wasn't a smile to be found anywhere on his face.

On Richard's heels marched King Kong Chin, the Butcher, beady-eyed, balding and anxious, while Fat Freddy Fong, with no eyes to speak of, trudged along behind. Lastly, and most deadly according to the rumor mill, traipsed Sweet Shorty Poo, teetering on platform shoes and still not measuring five feet tall.

I was like an awestruck kid. I mean, scientists could launch a spaceship to Pluto with the energy in that room. I found myself smiling and wondering if these boys, as children, had played street games against other little kids who carried knives and won. Richard looked like a winner to me. And as for Shorty, well. I'd soon learn not to make fun of Shorty Poo.

"Richard," I tried.

"Charlie. Good to see you, old boy." He held out his hand.

I wanted to punch him in the phony English accent he'd acquired at Oxford. I kept my hand in my pocket. "Sorry. I hear you have the flu."

King growled. And while Freddie and Shorty didn't speak English they growled too. They didn't like me. Funny that. Just because they'd tried to kill me and failed they thought I was some sort of escape artist. A Houdini. No one eluded Richard Chang, the most powerful drug lord on the Pacific Rim, and lived.

Richard cocked his head at me. "Give it up, Charlie. Someone we both know and love is getting married today. You and I are in the wedding party. Truce for a day? Just one day?"

I hesitated. "So, let me get this straight. You're not going to kidnap me today, right? And you're not going to disappear to throw your enemies off your trail. You're not going to steal my identity and re-appear in California as me either. Swell. I'm loving you now. Do you want to have sex?"

He managed a half-smile, the best he could do even with gas. "You just have to be a clown, don't you?"

I eyed the three clowns standing behind him. "Well, I think I'm in fourth place but who's counting? If not sex maybe we could dance." And since Jack was thumping up the stairs behind him I held out my hand. "Always a pleasure, Richard."

So, with Jack slapping him on the back Richard had no choice. He tried to smile but his teeth looked like tin.

"You two make the greatest team!" Jack boomed. "I'm the luckiest man on earth." His sandy curls were held in place by gel and his mustache too. "I'm nervous. You got a drink, Hamster?"

I pulled the mickey from my inside pocket. "Is the sky blue?"

It was raining but he didn't give a damn about the grey sky. He guzzled. "I've been standing on this same step so many fucking times. Jillian has married half the men on this planet and not one of them worth their weight in salt." Red crept into his cheeks. "It was partly her fault, though." He guzzled more. "I liked you best, Richard. It was just circumstances, that's all."

Richard nodded. "I was the best."

I snorted. "Right."

Shorty Poo gave me the finger. In Chinese it said 'testicles lopped off. Screaming'.

I unzipped my fly. Go for it, it said in French. Damn the Bastille. I was confident now that Tony Chan had parked the old Phantom IV and was gliding up the steps to save me.

"Don't worry about it, Charlie. Leave it open. Old Chinese proverb says dead bird never fall out of nest."

That did it. Jack roared. Richard roared. And because the goons were programmed to laugh on key they roared too. It was kind of funny. But just inside the church Tony said something to the boys in Chinese. They nodded. He patted me on the back. "I told them you are my favorite."

When we'd all taken our places at the altar, Willy whispered in my ear. "Kow Gong didn't say you were his favorite. He said you had big ears."

It might have been funny. It should have been hilarious, in fact, had I not, from the corner of my eye, noticed Fat Freddie Fong turning green. He toppled to the floor.

# Chapter One

DEAD. IT WAS WHAT THE Joneses did when they didn't want to get married. They either died or paid someone to die for them. I was suspicious. Even after the doctors said it might have been a fish bone puncture, or twelve, from the salmon he'd demolished at lunch, I needed autopsy results. Who might have wanted Freddie dead? I was fixated on the motive. Jack tried to calm me down over midnight whisky in the library at 33 Terrace Place.

He pawed his thick sandy mustache, a trick he used to hypnotize me. "You didn't even know the guy, Hamster. And you weren't related. Christ! He'd never want to look like you."

Great. Freddie was an Asian Hobbit and I was six-two. Freddie had a wrinkled face and wore plaid shirts. I wore shirts. A tear trickled down my cheek. "He likely had a mother."

"He tried to kill you."

I gulped my drink. "A lot of people have tried to kill me. I shrug it off."

Jack sat back in his chair. "Tell you what. We'll give him a funeral. The best damn funeral this town has ever had. A parade with hookers and cheerleaders destined to be hookers and drunks too. What do you think about that?"

"I think Richard would love that. You know, since few human beings have ever seen Richard in person or his goons. He's mythical in stature and likes to keep things that way. Private."

Jack sat up in his chair. "You're right. We could throw a house party then. Just you and me."

"I thought that's what we were doing now."

He grabbed the empty glass from my hand. "Shame on you. Freddie will be rolling over in his ashes if we don't give him a proper send off." He filled our tumblers to the brim. "We're going to have toasts now. To Freddie." He looked sideways at me. "Who was he anyway?"

Flashback:

_Jack's house in British Properties perched on the mountainside four stories deep. Sprawling_ _behind lush hedges the concrete fortress hosted thick black doors, electronic surveillance, and a garage for myriad cars. Inside, a sea of hardwood flowed down the stairways like a log run on the Fraser while crystal chandeliers lit the halls. To get to Jack's domain I typically followed the trail of artifacts – from lewd to lewder statue – to the very end of the hall. The library was where Jack hid from the Jones women and he also hid on me, except when he wanted something. Then he tore the town apart to find me._

Inside, the place was abuzz with Jack's usual party mix: his West Van cronies, his crooked cops, his thugs and his relatives. But this day was different; different due to a new element in the way of a very special guest of honor, Richard Chang. And Richard had brought his own thugs along.

Shoeshine, a large handsome man, a Jackie Gleason type, greeted me in the foyer. "Charlie. Got any weapons?"

"Just a gun and a knife in my sock."

"Try to be a good sport. Jack is counting on you today."

It seemed there was a reception line now as next to Shoeshine stood Fat Freddie Fong and next to him, Shorty Poo. I bowed. "Goons," I said in a friendly voice. "I've been missing you. Like a toothache."

They bowed.

The living room was packed like a barrel of sausages with the noise level rivaling a sonic boom. Peter, the crooked cop, waved me over.

"Nice friends, Charlie. I hear they're good with knives."

I nodded. "They'll come in handy at Thanksgiving. I won't have to carve the turkey this year."

Beside him Jack's sister, Julia, shook her sleek dark head. "I can't believe Jack! What's he doing with the Triad?"

"Staying alive," I answered. "Jack likes to stay alive. And for that matter so do I."

But back to Freddie's wake and Jack saying, "Do you think Richard even liked Freddie?"

"He loved him. Willy worked for Richard for several years, remember, and got to know the boys well. According to Willy, Richard inherited the three from his dad. He grew up with King, Freddie and Shorty guarding his house. They babied him. They called him Chang Chang, if you can believe it. Still do sometimes."

Jack smiled. "It's hard to picture Richard as a baby. Do you think he was born with a silver knife in his mouth?"

"He's your son. What do you think?"

"It still hasn't sunken in. I mean, I never knew about the baby because Won hid in Beijing and wouldn't let me find her. Then her brother Genghis Chang adopted him and the rest is history. I didn't know about my son until he was thirty-three. It's not like I got to bounce him on my knee."

"I'd like to see you try."

He squinted at me. "Do you think you and Richard will ever be friends?"

"Maybe if he stops trying to kill me. Who knows? He's Tommy's dad and Tommy and I are tight. So the future will write itself."

Little did I know at that point in time that beautiful, costal Vancouver was about to be rocked by an earthquake although not the geological kind.

# Chapter Two

IF YOU'VE BEEN TO MY downtown office on Denman Street you'll have met my sprawling rubber tree, Robert the Plant, and _Chestnut Gelding,_ the lone portrait __ I won at a silent auction for five bucks _._ You may also remember my nice tin desk and the shabby furniture I rescued from an alley. Done. That's it. It's not that I spend much time there and if I did I'd be broke.

So, the following day I was sitting at my desk riffling through mail and talking to the gelding on the wall. "Did it hurt? The operation, I mean. I've come close to having my balls sliced off and I worry about it a lot. It's a hazard of the job. But there will come a day, I'm goddamn certain, when you and I won't feel all that different."

"It will hurt you more. I was a baby and I don't remember a thing." Tony Chan was standing in the doorway giggling his chauffeur cap off. The old coot had been torturing me since I was ten years old.

A word about Sharp-dressed Tony, who was a big deal in Chinatown where he grew up. Not only had he risen to mafia fame he liked to show off, so every Sunday he'd arrive for yum chow in the back of the big Phantom IV with Shoeshine behind the wheel. He had a penchant for designer suits and highly-polished shoes, diamond tie tacks and cufflinks too. He soaked up the respect he received in Chinatown like a sponge.

"I'd say come in, Tony, but I have a busy schedule."

"I noticed. They're lined up in the halls, your imaginary clients."

"Keep it up and I'm not coming to your eighty-fifth birthday party on Sunday."

He plopped down in the chair across from me. "It's supposed to be a surprise."

"Right. To whom? Jack has invited everyone in town. He had to stop when they ran out of space at the _Pan Pacific_. All the banquet rooms are booked just for you."

"Yeah? He says I have to pay for it all. What an ingrate! I raised him from a pup. And this is how he treats me? This is the thanks I get?" A fake tear rolled down his cheek. "And do you want to know the worst part, Charlie?"

"No. I don't."

"Now everyone will know how old I am. I look a lot younger don't you think? Like maybe seventy." He removed his cap and rubbed his old grey head.

"You don't look a day over eighty-four, I can tell you that."

He leered at me. "I don't like you anymore, Charlie. I raised you too and I'm not liking what I see. You've got an attitude."

I raised my feet to the top of my desk. It clanged. "Really? And where might I have gotten that from?"

He giggled. "Jack."

"And?"

"Julia."

"And?"

"Maya."

"Cut the crap. You took the attitude out of Maya the day you married her."

"And you were how old then? Minus seventeen?"

"Is there a purpose for your call today?"

"No. I just dropped by to say hello to Ming." He waved to the portrait of _Chestnut Gelding._ "Hello Ming."

"Well, at least you got his name right today. Sometimes you call him Harry and my horse is only Harry to the English."

"I know. I know. It's how you lie to your clients. The horse is Ming to Chinese. He's Harry to English. Tony to Italians. Pete to Polish. And god knows who else. Why don't you just say his name is Gelding like the sign says. That covers everyone."

"Because it isn't personal then. I had to personalize the guy to draw people in. Like, maybe he wanted to be a race horse like the great Sagittarius. Hmm? So, maybe he sprained his ankle and came in last at the county fair. So what? Maybe, just maybe, he had a poster of the Kentucky Derby on his wall marked with a big red _Next Year_. He had dreams too."

"You're full of shit, Charlie."

"Do you want to tell me the real purpose for your call?"

The mafia godfather coughed. "Freddie was murdered. I don't know exactly why but I know a few things. The rest will be up to you."

The bar on East Hastings Street hadn't changed much in my absence. It was still dark and seedy with a clientele ranging from bad to criminally bad to those about to be murdered. I didn't exactly fit in wearing Gucci jeans so I decided to leave my raincoat on as disguise. I only hoped I wouldn't be mistaken for shoddy Overcoat Marco and be mobbed by those needing a good lying lawyer. I'd agreed to meet Robert Coppilani there for a drink and get this. Robert got off.

Sure he stole the drugs. Fifty million dollars worth of heroin to be exact. But Robert was a cop and had been a clean cop for over thirty years. The jury liked that. Yes, he might have retired earlier but Robert was not a man to quit. The jury liked that too. They also liked his self-published book called _Don't Break the Law_ which sold all of ten copies bought by Robert himself or his kids. And the kicker? He was framed. The locker where the drugs were stored had been signed for by a new recruit who hadn't stuck around to testify. Why? Because I killed him in a shootout over the drugs. Not my choice. Robocop sent two newbies after me and the one that lived hadn't return from his vacation to testify. The jury thought he deserved a vacation.

I had two thoughts on that matter. Vacation to Mexico or vacation to a pine box. Robert was going to fry either way. I was thinking such thoughts when a huge hand slapped my back.

"How are you doing, son?"

I shuddered. "I'm not your son."

Robocop maneuvered his big brown coat onto the barstool beside me. He wasn't a bad looking guy actually. He just looked like an old TV cop, all white hair and mustache.

Without looking at him I said, "You realize there's a horse out there shivering because you stole its coat."

"Ha. Ha." He ordered a drink.

Oh. Oh. Red the bartender knew me from another movie and was still hating me for good reason. She was green-eyed gorgeous with long auburn hair tumbling down her back and any man would kill to have her in his bed. The problem? I'd made a play for her before going off to Beijing and coming back a different man.

Red put her hands on her waist in defiance. "I'm the girl of your dreams, remember Charlie? The girl you dumped?"

"Sorry. It wasn't a good time for me."

"That's all you've got?"

"Sorry. I was wrong."

She stomped away.

Robo looked at me through squinty eyes and along a crooked nose. "Sill having women problems, Charlie? I thought you just got married. Aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon?"

I removed the flask from my pocket and guzzled. "My wife is. I'm too busy to go right now. You know. With scores to settle and such."

"Don't look at me."

"I'm not looking at you. I agreed to meet you to tell you in person of my plans. I was away for your trial but I'm back. There's an appeal in progress and I plan to put in my two cents. You will be retried and I will testify."

He shrunk into his big brown coat. "Now why would you go and do a thing like that? We've been through a lot together."

"We have. Some of it good too. It was just that last part where you tried to have me killed. That part kind of stuck in my craw."

"You're like a cat, son. You're hard to kill."

I shook my head. "You don't get it, do you? A young man was killed because of you. And another almost died. You lied to them. So I'm here to tell you one thing. I'm a dangerous man. So take the jail sentence because if I come after you it won't be pretty."

Robocop stomped his big brown coat out of the bar.

I barely had time for a quick guzzle from my flask before a drink hit my face. Red was standing in front of me leering.

"Sorry" she said in a fake voice. "You see? Sorry isn't just your word." She stomped away too.

I knew the laugh. It was a happy roll of thunder from across the bar. Glad I could make someone happy, I thought, as I mopped my face with napkins. Biker in the blue polka dot bandana was another former friend, a longshoreman who knew a lot, maybe enough to get himself killed. I gave him the bird. Back came the rolling thunder as he returned the favor. The problem? He was missing the middle finger of his thick right hand. Ok. I laughed too. Biker and I still had a chance, I was thinking, as I walked out into the rain. I was also thinking about Robocop's big brown coat and whether it was waterproof. Well, it had been when it was on the horse.

It was meant to be a pit stop at my Denman Street office simply to water Robert. I was feeling guilty about being away so much and leaving him to the plant lady who looked like a praying mantis. What if he had bugs now? Worried, I put a shot of crème de menthe in his bottled water. Ok. I gave him three shots to keep his leaves green. "I'm spoiling you Robert but I'm short on friends and you don't argue." I took a few glugs of crème de menthe myself.

"I'll have some of that," said a pleasant female voice from the doorway.

I knew her by her perfume so I didn't turn around. "Lana McGoogle. Are you still looking for trouble?"

Flashback:

She was wearing legs. A lot of legs that seemed to start at the armpit and end in sandals with five-inch heels. I knew the face. It was an unforgettable face.

Lana McGoogle removed her hat and shook her long dark hair. "May I come in?"

"So, you can walk. Last time I saw you, you were in bed. With slimy Marco Midolo, I believe."

She showed her pearly white teeth. "I know my husband hired you to follow me. But he said you wouldn't take his money."

"Sit down, Lana. You are my one and only divorce case. It was during a fall-out period with my family. Normally they hire me. You know. Since no one else will."

Her round brown eyes twinkled. "That's not what I hear. I hear you're a hotshot."

"Yeah? That's great because I write my own references. Mostly on hotel bathroom walls."

"You're as good-looking as they say."

"Who is they?"

"Other women."

"I'm relieved. I'd be nervous if Marco Midolo was after me. So, why are you hear, Lana McGoogle?"

She placed her hat on her lap. "It's complicated. I'm still with James. I guess everyone knows that."

I nodded. "Why are you still with James? I think it's well known that you have affairs."

Her mouth dropped. "Well, that's blunt. But I have to live with James, you see. He's controlling and abusive and won't let me go. He won't give me a divorce."

"You can't just leave?"

"I have no money. He's never let me work or even have my own bank account. I'd be on the street."

"I see. And how can I help you?" I could think of lots of ways but none of them professional.

"Well... I was hoping you may know someone who could help me. I was hoping you might know a hired killer."

So, since I'd guzzled the last of the crème de menthe I poured Lana a glass of whisky and motioned to the chair on the other side of the desk. I sat down to my own whisky and tried to breathe. You see, Lana McGoogle brought a whole new meaning to the word breathtaking. I tried not to shake. "You still want to kill your husband?" I croaked.

"That's the problem. I'm afraid he's already dead."

# Chapter Three

SO, I'D LIED A LITTLE TO Tony about his birthday bash. Yes, it would be at the _Pan Pacific Hotel_ but was confined to the Crystal Pavilion ballroom with its elegant crystal canopy and seating for six hundred guests. Jillian's wedding receptions were held there too and as for Jack's, well, he told everyone at the church to go to the party anyway since it was already paid for. Apparently, there was an orgy, maybe even a brawl.

Willy met me just inside the door. "It's a refreshing change being here for a birthday. I was really getting bored with all Jillian's weddings."

"Yeah, well. I've been to a few of those myself."

His eyes sparkled. "You'll be here again. You and Jillian just can't quit."

"I still don't want kids."

"That shouldn't be a problem. You can always live in separate houses. Just meet up for sex. You know. To make the kids she wants."

"She'd go for that, alright. She's so easy to get along with."

He laughed. "She's a bit of a pain, that's for sure. I've never seen what you saw in her other than her gorgeous face and smoking hot body."

Visions of her long blond curls and round hazel eyes came to mind. "I love her. She was four years old when I came to live at 33 Terrace Place."

He shook his shiny dark hair. "So you don't remember all the times she tattled on you and got you into trouble? She tattled on me too. Her mission was to get us both the switch. Ouch!"

The guest of honor arrived just then along with lovely Maya wearing a crisp pink dress and an orchid corsage. Tony looked immaculate in a black Armani suit with a pink rose on the lapel. Willy organized them for photos and we started to snap. Trust Jack to stand behind them making faces.

"Take him away, Emily,' I told Willy's mother, who looked pretty in a red cheongsam. "Just lead him to the bar."

The stunning Julia came breezing in wearing a smart taupe suit and with her sleek dark hair twisting into a knot. A woman of intrepid intellect, Jack's sister stayed in shape by running between boardrooms closing deals. Julia adopted Tommy after I brought him home from Beijing just because they wouldn't let me be a dad to a fourteen-year-old kid. I'd killed too many people, they said, and self-defense didn't count. It's only fair to say, though, that many of the victims fell when Willy and I were in the process of rescuing Jack. Three times. Three times too many.

She kissed both cheeks. "You look wonderful! Both you and Willy do. You're amazing after what you've been through. You have to come by the house later for drinks."

Julia and Tommy also lived at 33 Terrace Place, the zoo. Now nineteen, Tommy Chang was studying at UBC but mostly wanted to be a criminal like his dad, Richard. That's also another story.

"Where's Tommy?"

"He's coming. He went to pick up his cousins in his new convertible. He wanted a BMW like yours. He's been hero-worshiping since you saved him."

"Willy and I did."

"Of course! I'd never leave Willy out."

Willy was eavesdropping. "You lust for me baby. You know you do."

She playfully slapped his cheek. "Just don't tell Peter that or there'll be a fight."

Talk about complicated relationships. Julia and Peter Selic, Jack's inside cop, had broken up more times than ice on the Fraser. May-December relationship aside, they couldn't live together and they couldn't live apart. Behind her, Peter plowed his fingers through his thick blond hair. He looked a lot like Kevin Costner.

"Stay away from my woman, Chan, or there'll be trouble."

Willy grinned. "Bring it on. I know what's on your hard drive man and it isn't pretty."

The conversation screeched to a halt when a familiar face was seen at the back of the throngs moving in.

I didn't get it. "Richard? Isn't he supposed to be in mourning, Willy?"

"He is in mourning. And trust me, he'll be hurting over Freddie. But he has come to show respect. Tony is high up in the Triad and Richard has to eat. So why not here?"

"I'm not sitting at his table."

"Don't worry about it. You're not that high up. Richard will be seated beside his father. You'll be at the kids table with me."

The following morning I headed over the _Lions Gate Bridge_ and took _Marine Drive_ out of town. I turned into a long winding driveway leading to a West Van beach house overlooking the ocean below, not my favorite house since I'd been held captive there waiting to die. Obviously, I hadn't.

But something had changed. The four guards on duty turned away from me and the dogs didn't bother to bark. Shorty met me at the patio doors. "You good man, Cha'lee. You best." Tears streamed down his face.

I gave him a pat on the shoulder. Shorty and I had a history, you see. He had held a gun to my head so in a strange way he had my respect. He was grieving over Freddie, for sure. In the lower games room he pointed to a chair by the unlit fireplace and brought me a whisky on a leather tray. Great. Ten o'clock in the morning and I had to drink booze to not hurt his feelings?

It was an all too familiar room. Why? Because I'd been tied up there and along with Jackie Chan hoped to escape. I'd had time to study the Brazilian rosewood flooring, the mahogany billiards table, the glitzy bar glowing with crystal decanters and silver shakers. It felt better this time, possibly because I wasn't bound by more ropes than the main mast of The Bluenose.

"Cheers!" I said as Richard came floating down the stairs. He said something to Shorty in Chinese.

I stood to shake his hand. A lot had changed.

He didn't look good. The chiseled Asian features were now recessed and gaunt, rendering him a haggard look. His hazel eyes bugged out of his head. I could see the bones in his shoulders as he raised his own glass of scotch for a toast.

"We have to drink to Freddie. He would expect no less from us."

Wow! I was now in the inner circle? I raised my glass. "To Freddie."

"I never thought I'd say this, Charlie, but I'm glad you're here."

Whew! I didn't even mind his phony English accent since there was a lot of grieving going on. "I need to know everything, Richard. Every movement. Let's start with the day Freddie died."

Summarized, the day had been typical. King arrived with Richard's smoothie and supplements at seven. Richard worked out in his home gym while the boys did their chores: Freddie took care of the banking and financials; King attended to Richard's personal attire, dry cleaners etc. while overseeing the gardeners and domestics; Shorty ordered the groceries after planning meals for the following week. Due to the wedding later in the day they decided to have lunch at the _Salmon House on the Hill_ to save time and not be late. Richard had given his meal to Freddie because he didn't actually like salmon and wondered why he'd ordered it. They proceeded on to the wedding. Done. Had it been death by sockeye?

# Chapter Four

WHERE TO BEGIN. ACCORDING TO Lana McGoogle her husband, James, had gone out sailing on the ocean and only the boat came back. Via tugboat. Although the consensus was drowning she had an uneasy feeling about things for two reasons. Firstly, James was an expert sailor and during his single days had sailed solo to Hawaii and Fiji and parts unknown. Secondly, she had gone to the bank only to learn that James had closed two major accounts, leaving just the household account open with eight hundred dollars. Bad news from the stockbroker too. Everything was gone.

Nice guy. I took the case pro bono, determined to find the bastard and destroy him. So, armed with a mental picture of the McGoogle sailboat I started nosing around the _Bayshore West Marina_ where I wasn't exactly welcome. A big burley guy with a hairy face gave me a shove just for fun. __ James McGoogle was none of my business. With other boat owners needing his attention I outwaited Burley before sneaking down the peer to the slip where the Tayana 48 was formerly docked. And guess what? It was still there, sitting pretty with a new owner in the process of scrubbing it down. Lucky for me.

Unlucky for Lana, however. It seemed that James had sold the boat before taking it out for one last sail and drowning. The new owner was a young, blond-haired man pleased to have had the boat returned unscathed. I left the Marina thinking that at least luscious Lana still had her Shaugnessey mansion worth several million bucks. She could downsize. But that thought alone worried me some. If James McGoogle had taken every cent he could get his grubby paws on, why had he left her the house?

From the marina I drove through the causeway where the perfume of pine needles and decaying flora on the forest floor pleased my nose. I crossed the _Lions Gate_ to _West Vancouver_ and headed up the mountain to _The Salmon House on the Hill_ which overlooked the city and ocean far below. Since it was lunchtime I decided to take a chance on the salmon while waiting for the manager to join me. It wasn't the Pacific salmon that killed Freddy, I can tell you that. And although I'd eaten there often I ordered seconds because it was about the best piece of salmon money could possibly buy, or in this case, Richard.

I was on Richard's dime now and didn't feel guilty since he was worth over a billion, give or take a million, according to Willy. Firstly, it was about the heroin Richard shipped to California and B.C. Secondly, it was about the shell companies Willy established to funnel the drug money through. Thirdly, Willy had invested that money in commercial real estate etcetera, not that he didn't abscond with some for himself. In retrospect, I should have had Willy working for me had I had any contraband at all.

It was an interesting meeting with the manager who had done a little research during my meal. A curious incident happened the day Freddie died. A server had come out of the bathroom with a bump on his head. Said he'd been knocked out but no one believed him. The wait staff laughed at him. They said he got drunk, fell down and hit his head. The result? He abruptly quit out of shame. His personal information was confidential, of course.

On my way back over the bridge I got the call from Peter. No kidding. The autopsy results were in and Freddie had been poisoned. Arsenic. Not that sophisticated but Freddie did die while vomiting blood.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Charlie?"

"Damn right. Freddie wasn't important enough to poison. That poison was meant for Richard. Good thing he doesn't like salmon."

A second call came in shortly after I hung up. It was Julia, crying. She and Tommy had quarreled and he'd gone to live with Richard. Great. I made a U-turn and headed back over the bridge and up the mountain to _British Properties_ and _33 Terrace Place._ Julia met me at the door with a teary face. To the consternation of statue David in the foyer alcove I wrapped her in my arms. David thrust his wrinkled penis at me before starting to sway.

I stared him down. "Get over it, David. You're going to be a unik soon if those statue cleaners ease up."

Julia wiped her face with a tissue. "You're already making me smile. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Drink less." I steered her into a long living room filled with white leather sofas, animal print chairs, and Moroccan treasures placed here and there. Leafy palm trees too. I motioned her to a chair while I headed for the bar. "Whisky neat?"

She nodded. "Double."

"I learned a lot about uniks in Beijing. The emperors had dozens of them as servants in _The Forbidden Palace_. Only uniks were allowed to be in his palace, thus the name."

"Did he order them castrated?"

I took the chair across from her. "Well, some of them were castrated as a form of punishment for crimes. Others were given up as boys from poor families needing money. Still there were those who voluntarily got neutered to escape extreme poverty and possible starvation. If they survived the operation, that was. Some didn't."

"You learned a lot in Beijing."

"With no help from your brother who got himself kidnapped."

Her eyes frosted over. "What about Jada? Do you ever think of her?"

"I try not to. It's too painful. But we have Tommy so she lives on through him. And, of course, we have lovely Richard, his dad."

"I wish that was funny. Richard is terrifying and Tommy has run off to live with him. He idolizes Richard because in Chinatown he's god. All Tommy hears about is the great drug lord, Richard _the Cleaver_. Jackie and Billy brag too because they've played tennis with him, thanks to you. And even ended up working for him, thanks to you."

"Wrong. Thanks to Tony Chan, the godfather. Tony arranged it all. I never wanted to meet Richard in the first place but I had no choice. Once again, I was bargaining for Jack's life. I mean, how much longer can I keep this up? I'm tired."

Flashback:

Tony plunked down in the chair across from my desk, removed his cap, and scratched his old grey head. His eyes brimmed with mischief. "That's nothing compared to the news I have for you, Charlie."

"News? Such as?"

"Such as your meeting this afternoon."

"My meeting?" I couldn't remember this meeting. My iPhone couldn't either.

"Yes, your meeting. With Richard Chang."

My mouth fell open. "The Cleaver?"

Tony was shitting his pants he was so thrilled with himself. "The Cleaver. I got the word last night. He wants to speak with you."

Now I was shitting my pants. "Alone?"

Tony chortled. "Well, as alone as Richard will ever be. He'll have Shorty there, for certain. Shorty's the killer. And likely King and Freddie for backup."

Julia finally legitimately smiled. "You know how much we love you, don't you Charlie? You'll keep on keeping up because you have to. Sadly enough, we're all you've got." She walked me to the door. "And by the way. Jillian will be home tonight. She's already in the air."

Since I was already in _West Van_ I headed back to the beach house and again was not acknowledged by either guards or dogs. It felt awkward. You see, I had a feeling that one or more of them was involved in Freddie's murder. I also had the sinking feeling that Tommy might not be there.

Richard was already sipping his scotch in his wing chair while a tumbler of whisky remained on the leather tray.

"So it was arsenic," he said, head lowered. "Likely meant for me."

I sat down. "I presume. Unless King or Shorty got mad."

"You're not funny. It could happen again, maybe to the other two instead of me. How do you think I feel?"

"Rotten. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so glib." I took my drink from the tray. "I'll look after things. With your permission I'm going to set up surveillance. There's something going on here that isn't right. We know you have enemies but none of them work at the Salmon House. Someone knew you'd be there though and it had to come from here. Or at least originate here. Who made the reservation?"

"Freddie."

"Via?"

"Computer."

"Therein lies my concern."

"Reynolds?"

"You know _the Wrap._ No firewall in the world can keep him out. If Mini is obsessing again we're all in trouble. Jack included."

He nodded. "I should be more grateful to you and Willy for rescuing me. I'm just not."

I figured as much. "She isn't going to stop, you know. You killed her son. This will be a lifetime vendetta for her and she won't rest until you're dead."

"Or she's dead. I have ways and means and I'm tired of the old troll. Perhaps it's time to snuff her out."

Oh great. The Triad wars. I wanted to leave town. "I need to take Tommy home. He's not safe here."

He widened his hawk-like eyes. "Tommy isn't safe anywhere in this city. You're smart enough to know that. Neither is Jack. Do you think she won't stoop to killing my son or my dad? Get those guards back, Charlie, because they're needed at 33 Terrace Place. And in regards to Tommy, well. I've made arrangements."

"Such as?"

"He's on his way out of the country."

"To where?"

"I'm finished speaking freely in this house but just ask your buddy, Willy Chan. My former employee, the computer-hacking genius, can't leave me alone, you realize. He's such a snoop."

"The problem is that Reynolds will also know."

"King wrote a new code that even Fat Asian can't crack. It's in early Mohawk, a dead language for years. It's how we'll communicate. They left on my private plane you know."

I knew. "Who will be able to crack it on the other side?"

"Do you see King around?"

"No. I don't. So, King has gone with Tommy?"

"To keep him safe."

"I'm not getting it. Who will communicate from this end?"

"Shorty. He wrote the code with King. The boys are Chinese, remember. They have a knack for things like that."

"And you're safe here with just Shorty?"

"No. But I'm not safe anywhere so what's the diff?"

"I don't like it."

"Less people to be killed if we're attacked."

"What if I send you Billy Chan?"

"Sorry. The tennis court is being resurfaced. Other than tennis he's a nuisance."

"He'll communicate with me. He's done it before and knows how. I'd feel better with Billy here."

Richard actually smiled. "Looking for a job for Willy's unemployed cousin, are you, Charlie? Ok. I give in. But if he causes me any trouble I'll boot his ass out of here."

Done. On my way back to my West End condo I made a pit stop at Jack's warehouse, figuring that seagulls had been missing my canvas roof for a poop. I parked and strolled down to the water. The harbor was bustling as usual with huge cranes rising like long-necked geese to deposit grain, sulfur, and lumber into the bowels of freighters. Back to back helijets arrived at the Waterfront pad just as the coast guard took off in a hovercraft, skimming away. The Port. I wallowed in it. I was home.

The only thing remotely new in Jack's warehouse office was Jack. Otherwise, his shabby furniture made my alley castoffs look extravagant. His mahogany desk, purchased by his grandfather in 1919, had pretty much peeled its varnish with the help of rats. And as for his shabby chair, well, let me just say that no one clean dared sit in it other than Jack. Or maybe a few creatures at night. I reached for the tumbler of whisky spinning towards me across the desk.

"Good of you to drop by, Hamster. The mice feel neglected when you don't show up."

"You need to get a cat, Jack. I've told you that before."

"What? And spoil my authority? No one listens to me here but I can boss those damn mice around. They're scared of me when I bark and I can't say the same for the idiots in the warehouse. I should fire their lazy asses."

Jack had quite a crew out there. Firstly, there was Hughie the Hopeful who'd overdosed on Viagra. There was also Bob Along, Hughie's little brother, who got his name because whenever someone saw Hughie they'd invariably ask, 'Is Bob Along'? Apparently, Bob Along worked from home, a bit of a stretch for a forklift operator. There was Skid the Mark, the most treacherous truck driver in the lower mainland, and Billy the Bookie who didn't actually work there but just hung there for fun. The Hugh Hefner of his time, Billy drove a Lamborghini and flaunted a harem of buxom blonds that trailed along behind him jiggling their wares. I hoped to be just like Billy when I was seventy-three. Last but not least was Sammy Wong, better known as Sammy in the Tree who, at age eighty, could still shimmy up a tree faster than a squirrel. Over the years it had become a ritual. Once a year Jack gathered his gang to witness the feat and when Sammy reached the treetop Jack would holler up, "Anyone gunning for me, Sammy?"

"Coast is clear," Sammy would affirm.

After that the boys would crowd into Jack's office to celebrate with drinks, doubles for Sammy, who'd need assistance home.

Jack leaned back in his battered chair and closed his eyes. "What have you got for me, Hamster? It can't be good. It never is."

"You know me all too well. Freddie was poisoned because he ate Richard's fish at the Salmon House."

"That will teach Freddie. He was always eating off other people's plates."

"Richard gave him his meal because he doesn't like salmon."

"Why did he order it then?"

"Good question. Richard doesn't know himself. But it saved him nevertheless. Had he ordered the halibut he'd be dead."

"Why do I think you have more bad news?"

"Because I do. Richard and I think Mini is at it again. He sent Tommy out of the country and you should go too. Take that honeymoon to Fiji and actually get married there."

"I already got married in Fiji. So did you."

"Married by a bum on the beach. I'm serious, Jack. I've ordered the guards for 33 Terrace place but it's still not safe. Julia is there and Jillian's coming back tonight. Mini took you before and she'll take you again."

"From here. She took me from here."

"And I'm ramping up security here. But for everyone's sake I think you should go. Take Emily and travel the world. The two of you deserve a good honeymoon. You've done your time."

"What are you saying?" His closed eyes crinkled at the corners. "You're too lazy to rescue me now? Is that what you're saying? After all I've done for you?"

"I'm saying think about it. You don't have much time."

The plan was to congregate at Willy's posh West End penthouse and on the way over I collected a couple of mouths. Jackie was adamant.

"I'm not going back to those mice. I hate that place. I'll go guard Wichard. Billy can have the mice. He's the one that named them." Being the older brother, Jackie sat in the front seat beside me.

Billy poked me in the back. "Wichard asked for me, didn't he?"

Cornered. "He wanted you both. He drew straws."

Jackie wasn't buying it. "You're full of shit, Amster. You gave him Billy. You wanted me to suffer."

Patience. "Jackie? How many times have we been through this, you and I? All I'm asking is one more time."

"Til when? Hell freezes over?" He killed himself laughing. "I learned that from you, you know."

"Ok. I need you one more time. There'll be big rewards in heaven when you die. A thousand virgins."

He giggled. "What if I'm gay?"

"I'm sure they have those too although I don't exactly know for sure. How about dumplings? Never-ending dim sum?"

"What are you saying? You're going to be cheap again wif the food?"

"Not this time. Richard's paying."

"Oh great. Wichard is stingy. How do you think he got so big?"

"Not by skimping on dumplings."

He crossed his arms. "I'm tired of you, Amster. I want a new boss."

# Chapter Five

SO, TOMMY WAS OFF TO Beijing with King Kong Chin, _the butcher_ on Richard's private plane. I wanted to take comfort in that. Julia did too but only after our late-night drink in Jack's living room did she slowly come around. Willy was there for support.

He shook his shiny dark hair. "He'll be fine with King, Julia. King knows his way around and so does Tommy who lived just outside Beijing until he was fourteen. By that time he was coming into the city with friends to events and such. Trust me, he's better off there."

"They'll be staying with family," I added. "Jada's brothers live there and it's all arranged."

Willy nodded. "Jada and her brothers are my cousins, remember. While she's gone, Kow Gong's nephews still live there and no one will mess with that. Tommy is better off in Beijing. It wasn't safe to have him coming and going from here with Mini on the prowl. Don't kid yourself. They know all about him."

"Can I go and see him?"

"No. You can be traced. He can't."

Her sad hazel eyes filled with tears. "It isn't fair."

Willy nodded. "It never is. But you have Charlie. With Charlie you'll always have the upper hand."

As it turned out, Charlie didn't always have the upper hand. Donald the Doorman was nowhere in sight when I pulled up in front of my condo building so I drove into the underground parking myself. Big mistake. After I closed the car door, Big Burley from the Marina slugged me in the gut. Then he smashed my face against the car and held it there.

"Forget about McGoogle," he roared. "It's none of your concern. And next time you won't be so lucky." With that he jumped into the passenger side of a waiting SUV and drove away.

I didn't feel so good. To be truthful I felt sick, sick enough to put Big Burley on my calendar as _dead_.

The following morning I drove Jack and Emily to his airport hangar. Can you believe it? Jack actually listened to someone. I put that on my calendar as a first too. It was kind of fun chauffeuring the old Phantom IV with Jack nattering in the wide back seat.

"You look pretty rough, son. Is the other guy dead?"

"Not yet. But he will be soon."

"Ata boy. I didn't raise you to be a sissy. You just look like one, that's all."

"Thanks. The swelling will go down."

"Yeah. Well, don't get out of the car when we get there. I don't want my pilots to think I know you."

"I know your pilots, Jack. And they know me. We've had a few trips together, I think."

At the hangar a couple of boys scurried to get the luggage. "Well, Hamster. This is it for now. Naturally you'll move into the house in my absence."

"Hello?"

"They'll need you there to keep them calm. I mean, two women and an old couple? Not much defense there."

"Why doesn't Peter move in?"

"Hamster? You are moving in. End of discussion."

Great. Why didn't he just stick a hot poker in my eye? I was going to live under the same roof as my defiant ex-wife? Give me a break. But I accidently caught a break after watching a spanking new Hondajet pull up a few hangars down. And being the curious boy that I was I left the Rolls to ask questions of the two guys outside. They looked like Mutt and Jeff.

"She's a beauty."

Jeff nodded. "She is. And so is her owner."

"Would I be too nosey in asking?"

"Yes. But I can give you a hint. Her wealthy husband just fell out of a sailboat and drowned."

After dropping Jackie at the Chinatown spying apartment, and promising to return with more food, I proceeded on to Richard's with Billy. Inside I set up the cameras and microphones while Billy giggled away with Shorty. They were speaking their mutual language and pointing at me.

"Ok, Billy. What's he saying?"

"Can't say, Amster. You'll be mad."

"Can you give me a hint?"

He scrunched up his face. "Fight. woss. woser."

Ok. The bruises. "I lost the fight but I'm not a loser. And next time I'll win."

He translated for Shorty who giggled.

"Shorty says show me the money."

I left the two comedians and headed back to the Chinatown apartment with dumplings and shrimp. As you may recall, I originally had to sign a two-year lease on an apartment I planned to use for a week. Little did I know that I'd need it at least three more times. The cameras and microphones Jackie had planted while posing as a roach inspector still worked fine and our multi-screen monitor too. We were in business.

Flashback:

Hmm... Define weird. If you look it up in Webster's it says strikingly odd or unusual just before it says Reynolds Woo. About Reynolds. Where to start... The little guy was unusual, to say the least. Firstly, he had tremendous hair, which shot sideways and wide but flat as a board on top, mostly due to the kippah he wore incorrectly on the front of his head. He didn't look Jewish to me. He had tiny hands and feet. Tinier extremities come only on Ken dolls or GI Joe action figures or newborn chimps. Little wire-rimmed glasses rested near the tip of his nose and above them a set of piercing brown eyes searched the Web as he bounced back and forth between three computers, juggling virtual 'B and E's. I got dizzy just watching him.

"He's steeling from his mom again," Jackie said after removing a plate from the cupboard and arranging the pots of dips just so. "You'd think she'd catch on."

"Well it's his money. It's her fault for not letting him have money of his own, other than what she gives him. She's a control freak."

Jackie nodded. "Wenolds makes the money."

He did. And none of it legally. Like Willy, Reynolds was a computer-hacking genius and used those talents for profit. Sometimes it was a heroin heist, other times rare Chinese artifacts, but mostly it was outright theft, the robbing of other people's bank accounts. Reynolds and Willy had a lot in common, actually. They were Chinatown school friends whose mothers played mahjong together on Saturday nights and had for thirty years. Additionally, they both once worked for Richard and while Willy had rebuilt a relationship, Reynolds had gone to war against him. That little faux pas ended badly when Richard's hitman killed Bugs Zee, mistaking him for Reynolds, but that's another story too.

As expected, it didn't take long for Mini Chin to click her little red heels into the penthouse suite. Previously, the suite had been renovated by a contractor who knocked down walls and made four large suites into one. It was spectacular, given that one floor below I had mice. However, a mural of Hong Kong at night covered an entire end wall; red sofas with black cabriole legs sat together in pairs; and ribbons of bright colored flowers spilled from the black-lacquer tables. The unit contained three bedrooms plus two offices, one at each end, a modern kitchen, and various armed guards hanging out in the hallway, a nice touch.

Mini pushed her way past the guards. It annoyed her when they didn't bother to bow since she considered herself Chinatown royalty.

Flashback:

Mini Chin was not overweight but the triple-chinned, short-necked, vertically-challenged individual may have appeared that way to a taller, thinner person. She had a plastic look to her, like a creepy old doll preserved in paraffin. Well-dressed, she wore the appropriate amount of gold jewelry for her status in life; wealthy. An expensive grey suit, coupled with her thinning grey hair, gave her the overall composite of being just that; grey.

"Mama!" shrieked Reynolds, who scurried down the hallway like an escapee from Toy Story. "Why didn't someone tell me you were here?"

"Wen Wen!" Mini headed right past him and straight for the living room bar. "My boy."

Her boy followed. "Did you bring widdle Wen Wen anything?" he asked in a baby voice.

Mini poured a brimming tumbler of single malt scotch. "Glenfiddich is my favorite." She spoke in a raspy, munchkin voice. "Make sure you have it next time."

"Of course! I'll have another case brought in just for you." Reynolds looked like a cocker spaniel about to sit up and beg.

Mini opened her purse. "Here it is then. Your second favorite. Sour gummy worms. I couldn't find a Kinder Surprise in this whole fucking town."

Reynolds' eyes watered. "Thanks." He extracted a blue and yellow striped worm, grimaced, then dropped it back into the bag.

"Thanks who?" demanded Mini.

"Thanks Mama."

"Mama who?"

"Mama Mia."

"That's better."

Predictably, she clicked her way to the bar and when Reynolds heard the clinking of glasses he scurried out to great her.

"Mama Mia!" He'd obviously learned his lesson.

She didn't say hello. "Emily Chan went somewhere. She texted to say she wouldn't be there for mahjong on Saturday night. She said she would be away for a while and would text when back. I need you to ask Willy where she went."

"Why?"

"Don't ask why. I need to know."

"Willy is a busy man. He may not know where she went."

"Busy doing what? Stealing? He does that in his sleep. And don't tell me that Willy Chan doesn't know where his mother went. Willy knows everything. He even knows when the queen takes a crap." She knocked back her Glenfiddich and poured another.

Reynolds dug his little heels in. "I'll text him later."

"You'll text him now. I want to see. Ever since you were a little boy you said you were going to do things and didn't. You can't be trusted."

Reynolds took his iPhone from pocket and obediently texted. "He's texting back Mama Mia."

"Where did she go?"

"To Timbuktu."

I howled.

But Mini didn't think it was so funny. "One day Willy Chan will deal with me and it won't be pleasant."

"Just remember his uncle, Mama Mia. The big boss."

Still standing at the bar she poured another drink. "Why do you do that to me, Reynolds? Why do you tell me things I already know? You're driving me to drink." With that she downed the last of her scotch and clicked her little red shoes to the door.

"Well, she's not Dorothy," I told Jackie but he didn't get it.

Nor did he care. He was much too busy inhaling dumplings. "She's mean."

"Richard called her a troll."

"What's a troll?"

"Look it up in Wikipedia."

"What's Wikipedia?"

I gave up. "Mini is mean for a reason. Willy's mom told us she grew up poor in Chinatown and sometimes went hungry."

He nodded. "Me too. I went hungry."

"Yes you did and that's very sad. In Mini's case, her friends brought extra food in their lunch boxes to give her."

"That's nice."

"She wasn't very pretty so that was a problem too."

"She looks like a ugly dwarf."

"Kind of. She didn't win any beauty contests that's for sure. She did get married though and had two kids but her husband died young."

"Did she kill him?"

"A heart attack I think. But he was a mafia underboss and she learned from him. The rest is history. That's how she got her start."

"Is Wichard going to kill her?"

"Possibly. Or vice-versa. Mini obviously thinks Emily left with Jack and that's bugging her too. She kidnapped him once but she wouldn't do that again. She'd just kill him. Well, her A-Team of black cats would kill him, that is."

Jackie looked hurt. "They took me too. I was kidnapped with Jack."

"Sorry. Yes you were."

"They didn't feed us either."

"No dumplings?"

"No bread. Nothing."

"You held up well, buddy."

"You and Willy saved us."

"Then why am I buying you dumplings? You owe me."

"Because I have to wive with mice and you don't pay much," he said with a mouthful.

"I'm doubling your salary."

"Sure you are. Because it's Wichard's money."

"I thought you said he got ahead by being cheap."

"Do you ever forget stuff, Amster?"

"No."

"When will be the war?"

"I don't know. It depends on circumstances. Mini may be as interested in Tommy as she is in Richard. You know. You killed my son so I'll kill yours. Richard was wise getting him out of the country."

"Mini twied to poison Wichard."

"And she will again. That's why I have Billy in an office at Richard's monitoring things. He's keeping me posted."

His head dropped. "I should be at Wichard's house. Billy should be with the mice."

"There's no dumplings at Richards. Shorty is a gourmet cook and they eat healthy. He makes a lot of sauces with wine."

"Yuk. I hate sauces."

"So, suck it up, buddy. There's more dumplings to come. Lots of shrimps too."

He smiled. "You good to me Amster. On Wichard's money."

Well, it had to happen sometime. While I was moving suitcases into Jack's house Jillian stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed. She looked hot in a baggy pink T-shirt and little else. She shook her long blond curls as she glared down.

"I assume you've had everything fumigated?"

I smiled up at her. "Don't worry about it. I'm on the lower level by the atrium in my old room. If the bugs start to climb the stairs your stupid cat will eat them."

"Stupid? You should be as smart as Pooky. She's gone into hiding because she knows we have thugs now. She's fussy about who she associates with."

"Keep her there. I hate that ratty thing." Pooky was a Persian with hair five feet long. Sometimes it got into the food.

"You are not the boss of this house. Just because you're bigger, stronger and uglier than the rest of us you can't push us around."

"Wanna bet? Just watch me." With that I headed downstairs.

Later I joined Tony in the library for what was to become a long night and a lot of whisky. Jack's library was more like a museum with bookshelves to the ceiling and treasures he'd dragged home from his travels around the world. There were porcelain elephants with flat backs for setting plants on, tigers for no good reason other than he just liked tigers, and Ming vases of every size and pattern. Willy was not fond of the Ming vases, mainly because he'd broken a precious one at age eleven and Jack spanked him. Not only did Jack spank him he dragged him into the living room and spanked him in front of a Sunday gathering of at least fifty drunks. How humiliating! Especially since I'd broken the vase and blamed my best friend. No wonder he ended up a crook.

So, now you're thinking I'm a badass but don't ever think that sneaky Willy Chan didn't even the score, many times over. For instance, the time Jillian got the courage to bring her new boyfriend to one of Jack's Sunday parties and Willy slashed the tires on his car. I guess I don't have to tell you who got the blame for that. I was grounded for a month while Willy cruised the town is his new convertible, bought with stolen money. Want more? Another time.

Tony and I sat in the big leather wing chairs by the crackling fire. "It looks pretty typical, doesn't it? It's almost boring in a way." He looked sideways at me. "What do you think, Charlie? Same old. Same old?"

"That's what I'm thinking. Too much time has passed for Mini to go after Richard and vice versa. Just the same we need to keep our loved ones safe. But something is sticking in my craw. The last time Jack was nabbed in Santa Ana it was your enemies that took him. The 13K."

"Funny. But no. It wasn't the 14K. It was a similar organization though led by the brother of a man you well know. Or knew. Before you killed him."

"Not Gap-tooth Zu!"

"You got it. To save Jack's ass I had to pull out of the U.S. casinos entirely. And, of course, Richard threw in a hundred million bucks."

"But you're still in Macau."

"That's right. But here's the problem. They all know Richard is alive now, since you guys went to Macau to pay the ransom and collect Jack. His enemies are still out there. He's back as powerful as ever and they won't like it. Not one bit."

"So, they've traced him here."

"Likely. There's a good chance they're setting up here. It's a wide-open market and California is getting crowded."

I nodded. "It makes sense. We'll double up the guards at Richard's place for what it's worth."

"Why?"

"The guy that went to the Salmon House was told where to go. Mr. Poison knew exactly where Richard would be. Initially, I thought Reynolds had hacked Freddie's computer but I'm changing my mind now. Freddie's killer is very likely an associate of one or more of the guards."

"Why are you so smart, Charlie?"

"It's how I stay alive. My family, yourself and Maya included, isn't easy to protect. You've honed my skills."

He lit a cigar and leaned back in his chair. "Haven't you ever wanted to go crooked, Charlie? Just once?"

"I think about it all the time, in fact. Everyone around me is filthy rich while I struggle along middle class. It isn't fair. But it's how I've chosen to live my life and it's staying that way. This is what you see and this is what you get. A man who can sleep at night."

He chuckled. "Sleeping is overrated. I'll give you a million if you go next door and shoot the windows out of Judge Clark's house. He's out of jail, you know. I know you put him there but wouldn't it be fun to just go and blast the damn place?"

"It would be if it weren't for Judith and Tina. Not many people know the real story, Tony, but you do."

"You've likely told it in your memoires."

"I have. In my imaginary memoires. Over and over again."

# Chapter Six

SO, I WOKE UP THINKING about Gap-tooth Zu and Beijing and the re-occurring nightmares I suffered from losing Jada there. My beautiful Jada, with her intense brown eyes and long dark hair that went swishing down her back like a waterfall, straight along. I couldn't save her. I couldn't save her from her need to rescue enslaved people, a passion that ended her life. She would always own a special piece of my heart.

Zu-landers, I named the new Triad, and since I'd negated Gap-tooth I would negate his brother as well. Hopefully I wouldn't lose others in the process. But first off, I had to find out where Mini stood. Was she after Richard again? I met my buddy for breakfast at his posh West End penthouse overlooking the ocean below. His cook was away on leave so Willy was scrambling eggs when I arrived. Scrambled eggs was all he knew how to do. He burned the toast.

Willy had a passion for minimalist furniture – small white sofas with one red chair – and Picasso-like art. We sat at the breakfast nook overlooking the freighters in English Bay.

"Is there anything meant for Richard out there?" I asked. "Like maybe little powdery packages packed inside an oil drum or a hot air pipe."

Willy smiled. "Maybe. I'm not interested. I'm not working for Richard right now. I'm working for myself."

"Who is working for Richard in your capacity?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm not trusting anyone right now. You know, since Freddie bit it."

"Two older guys. I think they're pretty benign since they worked for his organization in Beijing. He brought them over and set them up in a house near his. They use it as an office."

"What's Mini up to?"

"You know Mini. She's never up to any good. I'm not sure she tried to poison Richard but it is her modus operandi. I wouldn't be surprised. She wanted to know where my mom went so I presume she's looking for Jack. However, she just may be nosey. Mini is nosey too."

"Can you ask Reynolds?"

"Are you kidding? Like Reynolds is going to tell me anything about his mom? And for good reason. Firstly, Mimi doesn't tell him everything. She doesn't trust the guards in the hallway. And she doesn't do her dirty business by computer because she doesn't trust me."

"Will Reynolds know, though? Will he know if Mini is after Richard again?"

"Likely. Sometimes she goes into his office and closes the door. That may have happened before Freddie died. Before you set up there again."

"Well, we need to know for certain. And if you can't ask him maybe April can."

Willy threw down his napkin. "Alright, Hampton. You're up to your old tricks again. I'll set it up. Let's have April pay him a visit. I know the guards because I worked in the front office beside them. Lugs Nut also went with her to Beijing, as you know. They don't like Mini. I mean, who does besides my mom? Furthermore, Mini never goes out at night because by that time she's plastered and in bed by seven."

Flashback:

Kitsilano is a great place to live but not to drive in. Try parking off West 4th without a handicap sticker, which I conveniently kept in my glove box. Sill do. I walked up the steps to a vine-covered, two-story Tudor and rang the bell.

April Angelotti was drop dead gorgeous. She was a tall, slender woman with round brown eyes and straight strawberry blond hair that travelled half-way down her back. I'd been after April since kindergarten but, like most girls, she'd preferred Peter Selic to me. So, she eventually married and divorced him and totally cleaned him out. Peter was just the first in her long line of patsies so maybe it was better that I hadn't made the cut.

She opened the door wearing legs. A lot of legs. The indigo dress above them barely covered her pubes.

"Princess Adrianna. How lovely to see you!"

"Knock it off, Charlie." She stepped forward, placed her two hands in mine, and planted a phony kiss on both my cheeks. "What do you want from me this time?"

So, repeat performance. I bribed April to once again assume the Princess Adrianna title she'd acquired by actually marrying a prince. A gay prince. Ok. The joke was on her but she came away with a ton of money. And with the sting set for that same night I headed over the _Cambie St. Bridge_ for _Yaletown_ and _The Flying Pig_ where I was about to meet Luscious Lana for lunch. She was already sipping wine when I arrived so I drooled my way to her table.

She had an amazing face. She was beautiful, yes, with her dark brown eyes and white teeth but up close her most attractive feature was her nose, a straight nose with freckles splashing overtop like paint drops. She shook her long dark hair before saying,

"We should have had children, you and I. They'd be Greek gods and goddesses for sure."

I was flattered. "It's not too late. My sperm's still good."

"Unfortunately, mine isn't. I'm sterile."

"Well, that could work in our favor too. I don't want kids."

"Don't proposition me, please. Your recent wedding to Jillion Jones was splashed all over the news. She's a big deal in this town. Not for being wealthy, which she is. But going to jail for saving trees certainly put her in the spotlight."

"I'm already divorced."

Her luscious mouth fell open. "I don't believe it! Why?"

"Because I don't want kids."

"It's that simple?"

"It is. I've known her since I was ten. She was four when I came to live with Jack and a perfect pain in the ass. Very spoiled and mouthy. I supposed it's what I liked about her best. Funny, but we never talked about kids. I just assumed she didn't want any. That all she wanted to do was save the planet. Wrong."

She laughed. "She is pretty busy at it. She's always in the news. I'm surprised she had time for you at all."

"Well, we mostly spent time in the car after I'd dragged her from a protest. You know, before they lynched her."

"I'm sorry that it didn't work out. You make a beautiful couple. She was a knockout in her wedding gown."

I sipped my wine. Excellent chardonnay. I couldn't wait to get the bill. "Do you know what I'm sorry about? I'm sorry about you buying a Hondajet and not telling me."

Needless to say, the conversation tanked from there. Lana had no recollection of buying a jet and couldn't believe that I believed she had. She stormed out of the restaurant. And since I'm not a wine drinker I threw down a hundred and stormed out behind her. We went separate ways.

So I joined Jackie just in time to hear Willy tell Reynolds that he was in for a great treat. That Princess Adrianna was in town and wanted to see him. They were sitting together on a red sofa sipping scotch. I'd turned Willy into a drinker in Santa Ana, you see, and although he didn't drink much anymore he occasionally imbibed. Reynolds, who didn't drink either – likely due to Mini' penchant for it – would only share a drink with a very old friend.

"I'm not seeing her this time," Reynolds said adamantly. "I'm never leaving here again."

Reynolds' agoraphobia had returned with a vengeance. He simply wasn't going to try anymore.

The master manipulator's brown eyes twinkled. "She wants to see you. What if I brought her here? Just for drinks. You know how she loves champagne. I could stock the fridge and supply a steward. I'll bring some appetizers and the steward can serve."

He brightened a bit. "Maybe. I could likely trust the princess. She wouldn't out my location, would she?"

"She won't even know where she's going. It's pouring out there. I'll bring her in my car so as not to draw attention to the Rolls she usually uses."

Reynolds stiffened. "Why would you do that for me? What's the catch?"

"No catch. She contacted me to say she'd like to see you. That the two of you have such a good time together when she's in town."

He nodded. "We do. She's beautiful."

"You're my friend. And I know you're not going out anymore so I thought I'd bring her to you. No catch."

He smiled. "I do like her."

"I know you do. And she likes you. So what about tonight? Is your calendar full?" Willy knew that if Reynolds wasn't interacting with porn stars he was stealing. "So, we're set for eight?"

"Eight's too late. Let's go for seven."

Willy stood up. "Seven it is. Anything else?"

"Yes. Tell your cousin that if he drinks all the champagne I'll kill him."

I laughed. "Did you hear that, Jackie? Reynolds knows you from another movie. Or Billy. He can't tell you apart. He thinks you're one and the same."

"Why can't Billy go?"

"Because Billy is otherwise employed. You're here so it's you. No argument."

"But the shoes are too small."

"Suck it up. You'll mostly be sitting in the kitchen. We don't have time to get you a new pair but I will for your next gig."

His eyes bugged out. "There won't be a next gig or I'll bweak your fucking neck."

I punched him on the shoulder. "I'll buy a bottle of champagne just for you."

"I don't drink. Billy drinks. I'll just eat their food."

"No you won't. I'll bring your dinner at five with lots of extras. Have some before and some after you get back or you won't get into that suit either. Capiche?"

He made a sour face. "Yeah. Yeah. I never get to have fun."

Tony arrived by cab at six o'clock, garment bag in hand. He wasn't going to miss this shit show, he said. So basically we watched Jackie eat, with Tony helping himself to a dumpling or two, until dress-up time. Jackie looked handsome in the white dinner jacket and black pants and yes, the shoes were too tight. It took all of us to get his feet inside."

He almost cried. "Kow Gong. Report Amster for cruelty. He does bad fings to me."

Tony giggled. "You'll survive. And I'll give you a bonus. Five hundred bucks if you do a good job."

Jackie's eyes twinkled. "Make it a fousand and we've got a deal." He held out his hand.

"I don't pay in advance. But you get a thousand if you do the job well."

"And if I don't?"

"Your Amster will break your fucking neck."

We all cracked up.

Willy had delivered the trays from Maya earlier in the evening and after putting stoppers in the champagne, set it in the fridge to chill. Five nice bottles of Dom Perignon in case Jackie got thirsty. With that he left to collect the princess.

Tony stretched out on the bed. "I'll have a whisky and don't be so stingy this time."

I almost teared. "Have you heard from Jack?"

"What do you think?"

"I think no. No communication. That was the deal although you and Jack have a way of breaking deals."

"Not when his life is in danger."

I poured him a big one. "Don't drink it all at once, sir. We've got a long evening ahead."

As Jackie entered the penthouse suite he spoke to the guards in Chinese.

"What's he saying?"

"He's calling them losers. That they need to get a real job."

"You're kidding! He's going to ruin it."

Tony giggled. "He has a bad attitude, alright. Likely because his feet hurt."

He passed Reynolds on the sofa and went immediately to the kitchen where he poured a glass of champagne. He downed it and returned the glass to the serving tray he presented to Reynolds. "Sampagne, sir?"

Reynolds nodded. "Thank you. I won't wait for the princess because I need to calm my nerves."

Jackie filled his flute to the brim. "Careful. You don't want to spill."

Reynolds didn't. He therefore dropped to his knees and sipped from his glass on the tray. He wasn't stupid. "Not quite so full next time, Willy's cousin."

"Sorry." He hobbled back to the kitchen. "Or not," he said loudly enough for Reynolds to hear.

Willy arrived just then with Adrianna on his arm. He ushered her into the lair. As per Willy's instructions, Reynolds remained seated, given that Adrianna was twice his height and would dwarf him. She sat down beside him. "You dear precious man!" she began. "It's so very good to see you again. I've missed you." She patted his hand. She looked gorgeous wearing a tight-fitting black dress to the ankle and with dazzling diamonds dripping from her ears.

Having guzzled a glass of champagne, Reynolds had that old silly smile on his face, like a little boy who'd just shit his pants. "You too, Princess."

Jackie hobbled in to pour the drinks. He was a little wobbly now since he'd been guzzling champagne in the kitchen from a cup. But his attitude had improved. "Pwincess. New dwess? You lost weight."

April was taken aback. "Thank you. I'm sure that was a compliment."

He shook his head. "No. Too skinny now." He left to fetch the appetizers.

Reynolds was quick to apologize. "There's something about his feet. Maybe he has bunions."

She smiled. "Why don't we just enjoy our time together? What have you been doing in my absence, darling?"

Stealing, I thought he might say. Or enjoying online sex. That was about it. By the time Jackie came hobbling in with the appetizers the first bottle of champagne was done.

"We'll have another, Willy's cousin. Thanks."

Jackie snatched up the bottle. "Slow down. I'm not a grasshopper, you know."

Tony was half-drunk on the bed. "What does he know about grasshoppers? He can barely speak English."

Willy was pouring himself a drink at the table. "I didn't say grasshopper I said jackrabbit. You know how fidgety he is, always hopping around. So I said he was like a jackrabbit. I don't know where the grasshopper came from."

When Jackie finally hobbled in with the champagne, Reynolds took a stand. "Ok, Willy's cousin. You need to take those damn shoes off. Right now. No questions asked. Off!"

Jackie hobbled to a dining room chair and removed his shoes. Thankfully, Tony had brought him new socks.

Reynolds pointed to the kitchen. "Take those shoes away and don't come back until you're called."

Willy was impressed. "I didn't know Reynolds had it in him. He's so used to being bossed I didn't know he could boss. Good for Reynolds."

Needless to say, Jackie wasn't disappointed. He was free to sit at the kitchen table and pound champagne, which he was developing quite a taste for, being a non-drinker. In a while he removed the directions from a tray and popped it into the oven, likely for himself. He was enjoying a mini-orgy.

Meanwhile, in the living room, April was saying, "I hear that someone in one of your organizations was poisoned. I'm so sorry to hear that."

Reynolds smacked his chops. "I'm not. One less enemy. It wasn't our organization by the way. It was someone else's."

"Willy says you're very clued in. Do you happen to know anything? I'm curious, you see, because I read it in the paper. It's very interesting, a mafia killing. I'm sure to everyone. We mortals live such very boring lives."

A bit drunk, Reynolds bobbed his head. "What makes you think I'm mafia?"

"You told me. The last time I was in town. You bragged about it. It's partly what I like about you." She scratched him under the chin. "I like dangerous men."

He smiled the silly Reynolds smile, half gone. "It wasn't me. I didn't poison the guy. Yes, we've had our wars, no doubt about it. But at this point I think we've all moved on. Mini has I know."

"Your mother? She's pretty big, isn't she?"

"Tell me about it. She tells me about it all the time." He giggled. "But she's actually quite small. She's only four feet tall."

At that point, the shoeless Jackie came in with the hot appetizers and set them on the table.

"You don't have any shoes on," Reynolds slurred. "Where are your shoes?" He turned to April. "Do you see this boy has no shoes? He's likely very poor." He looked up at Jackie. "Have some food, boy. We've had enough." Reynolds hadn't eaten a thing.

The night was about to get funnier. Following a ruckus in hallway, Mini came storming in. Her mouth fell open. "What?"

Understandably, she was shocked. A young Asian man in formal serving attire stood without shoes; a tall Caucasian woman with long blond hair was seated on the sofa near her son who was, to be colloquial, pissed to the gills.

"What is this?" she repeated, her little hands on her hips. "A sideshow?"

Reynolds giggled. "Could be. Pour yourself a drink and join the party. He pointed to April. "This is..."

"I know who she is. She's Princess Adrianna. I see her in the papers all the time. What I want to know is what this gold-digger is doing here."

Jackie Chan stared her down. "What do you fink she's doing? She dwinking sampagne. Can you not see?" It seemed that alcohol had emboldened Jackie who didn't like Mini at all, since he'd been forced to spy on her on three separate occasions, for days at a time.

Mini met his glare with her own. "And who are you besides an insolent little boy? What are you doing in my son's home?"

"Ask him."

"I'm asking you."

Jackie stood his ground. "And I'm not telling."

Reynolds tried to sit up straight on the sofa. "Pour yourself a drink, Mama Mia. Come and join the party. I never have parties and I'm having fun tonight."

"You're drunk tonight."

"You've never been drunk?"

Mini clicked her little heels to the bar. "I'm going to have Lugs remove these people, Wen. They're obviously a bad influence on you." She downed a scotch before heading to the hallway to capture Lugs Nut. "I want you to remove these people immediately," she ordered in an authoritarian voice. "Throw them out."

Jackie giggled. "Good luck. Lugs doesn't like you."

I gulped my drink. "Oh shit. We're in trouble now. How would he know that? Only from spying."

Mini's mouth fell open. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you don't buy him Cwismas pwesents."

"Lugs doesn't expect Christmas presents. He loves me anyway. Don't you Lugs?"

Lugs turned all red. "Yes," he squeaked. He was a poor liar at best.

"Then throw these people out. Get rid of them. Get them out of here."

Jackie confronted Lugs. "You know I'm Willy's cousin. You know who my uncle is. Tony Chan will eat your balls for bweakfast."

Lugs turned and walked down the hall.

Tony giggled. "I'm pretty powerful in some circles if my name still scares people. I'll bet Jackie uses me all the time, the little shit."

Mini went back to the bar. "I'm upset. James Wong and I were having dinner tonight. A nice steak. Medium rare, the way we both like it. And his head fell on the table. The ambulance came so I followed it to the hospital. He's dead. They took tests but the doctor thinks poison. We'll know more after the autopsy."

Willy sat up in his chair. "Oh, shit. Not 7 double 0. James Wong is another of Mini's high school friends. It's kind of funny, actually. He was dropped on his head as a baby and isn't quite right. He thinks he's a secret agent but spends most of his time bragging about his job to the Chinatown merchants. Mini will be upset though. He's one of her oldest friends. My mom's too."

Reynolds should have been interested. He should have but he couldn't have since he was passed out cold. Mini took the chair beside April and started to cry. "I know you'll understand. Women always do."

With that Willy bolted out of his chair and bounded up the stairs. He was getting April out of there fast. We watched as he said a quick word to Lugs but wisely stayed out of sight. Lugs went in to tell April that her ride was there and to carry Reynolds to his bed.

But drunken Jackie was trapped in his socks. "So," he said to Mini. "Do you wanna fight?"

She removed a tissue from her bag and wiped her face. "I saw you at Willy's house in California. But I don't remember speaking to you. I'm not sure why you're so hostile."

He hiccupped. "Maybe I just don't wike you."

"Wike? What's wike? Oh, I see. You don't like me. Well, to be perfectly clear I'm not seeing a lot to like about you either. You're a rude little boy. And I wouldn't be so reliant on Tony Chan to protect your big mouth. You should stop shooting it off."

He weaved back and forth. "Make me."

She set down her drink. She walked to Jackie and with her little red bag smacked him on the side of the head. "Now you have a reason not to _wike_ me." She huffed down the hallway and out the door.

Tony sat up. "Go set him, Charlie. He'll be standing on that spot all night if we leave him there. Lugs knows you. He'll likely even help."

# Chapter Seven

"I'M SUPPOSED TO PICK UP Willy's cousin," I told Lugs.

Lugs was about ten feet tall and three inches wide. "Yeah. Willy texted. Take him. If he keeps giving Mini backtalk she'll shoot him. He's lucky."

As if caught in a windstorm, Jackie was swaying back and forth on the same spot. It was amazing, really, how someone could almost reach the floor with their head and still stay on their feet. I waved my hand in front of his face.

"That is a hand," he slurred. "It is a hand on a arm."

"Great. You're alive. I wasn't sure."

"That is a voice. I can say voice. I used to say woice. But I am a Canadian now."

I threw him over my shoulder and said goodnight to Lugs.

Jackie woke up to a strange world the following morning. Silence. What? No mice scurrying in his walls? Instead, a large glass of orange juice sat on the nightstand alongside a note. _Meet me in the kitchen if you lived._

He surfaced looking a little green. "I've stayed here before, Amster. I know your place."

I had bacon and eggs cooking on the stove. "How do you like your toast? You're getting your eggs sunny side up so don't even ask. If I flip them over they break."

"It's ok. I'm not wery hungry."

"Drink your tonic then. It helps. Trust me. Tony saved me a few times with this shit. It's called hair of the dog."

He studied the concoction. "I don't fink so. It doesn't wook so good. It's wed."

"Tomato juice, that's all. With secret ingredients. It's your Kow Gong's special so you have to try it or I'll tattle. I'll say you're not a real Chan."

He could hardly manage a smile but he took a little guilt-tripped sip. "It's not bad. It just wooks ugly. I'll have a little more." He did. He shuddered. "I don't wike it."

I took the drink away. "Are you able to eat?"

He nodded. "A widdle toast."

Oh well. It wasn't the first time I'd eaten four eggs and a pound of bacon. "Jam?"

He reached for the pot of marmalade. "I'll try."

"You had quite a good time last night, Wildman. Quite a party."

"Someone stole my shoes. I have no shoes today."

"You have sneakers at the apartment. Air Jordan, I think."

"That doesn't count. I have no shoes here. I have no shoes today."

"I'll buy you a new pair."

"Why? Cause you stole my shoes?"

"Get over the shoes, Jackie. You made a new friend last night. A powerful one."

He shook his head. "I don't remember a fing."

"You don't remember Mini Chin?"

"No. Mini wasn't there."

"Yes she was. And the two of you got along."

His chin hit his chest. "What? I hate Mini Chin! She's mean."

"No kidding. But she was a lamb last night. Purring like a kitten. She loves you now."

He cocked his head. "That's good, Amster. I'm glad I wasn't wude."

"You were a little rude. But not so much one would notice."

He rubbed the side of his head. "Did I fall down? My head is weally sore."

"You did. After we got home. When we were coming through the door. But you went straight to bed so I thought you'd be ok."

"I'm ok, Amster. I'm just glad I fell down here and Mini didn't see."

"It will be our secret." Far from me to tell him that I'd carried him through the door and thrown him into bed. Especially since Mini disappeared that night without a trace.

So, we arrived at the spying apartment late, due to Jackie stumbling along in my bedroom slippers whining. I wanted to stuff those damn slippers down his throat. He was still whining when we settled in to watch the frenzied activity one floor above. Reynolds was on the phone with Willy.

"Mama Mia is gone! Her house boy called at three o'clock this morning to say she hadn't come home. She's still not home. I need you to come, Willy. I need you to be here." Pause. "Thanks bud. Get here as soon as you can."

Lugs was standing in the office doorway. "Is Willy coming?"

"He's already on his way."

"Willy will fix things. He and Charlie will fix things. They always do."

Reynolds nodded. "I'm worried, Lugs. I don't know what I'd do without Mama Mia. I don't know why she even went out. She always goes home after dinner. She goes home and goes to bed."

Lugs made a funny face. "You don't remember her being here?"

"What? Mini wasn't here. Are you nuts?"

"Possibly. But I pretty much know that Mini Chin was here last night. Sorry, but you were a little drunk."

Red crept into Reynolds cheeks. "I don't remember. I don't remember her being here."

"You had quite a party. And I was glad for you. You don't often get to have fun."

"I had fun?"

"You laughed a lot. I've never really heard you laugh. It was nice."

"What did I miss?"

"Your mother had been to dinner with James Wong. They both had steak medium rare. James collapsed at the table and the ambulance came. She followed it to the hospital but James was already dead. The doctor said poison but they'll wait for the autopsy results."

Reynolds hopped up from his chair. "Poison? Who would poison poor James Wong? I mean he's mentally challenged. He has the IQ of a chimpanzee. It doesn't make sense."

He sunk back into his chair. "Of course. The poison wasn't meant for James. It was meant for Mama Mia."

Lugs nodded. "Likely."

"I'll kill fucking Richard. I'll slit his throat. Get Taboo back, Lugs. I'll need an assistant again. We need to call up the A-Team and plan an attack."

Jackie turned to me. "Oh sure. Just when Mini and I are friends this has to happen."

I swallowed a giggle. "You keep an eye on things here, Wildman. I'm off to see Richard."

"Tell Wichard I don't wike him anymore. He hurt my fwend."

"I'll tell him. He'll be upset, I know."

"Amster? You're so full of shit."

On the way over to Richard's I mulled things over. Was this payback poison? Or was it a comedy of errors, although nothing was funny. But poison meant for Richard had killed Freddie and now poison meant for Mini had killed James. What stuck in my craw was Reynolds saying that Mini had moved on from the wars and I believed Reynolds, mainly because poison wasn't Mini's style. Slinky black cats with assault rifles was Mini's style. And Richard stooping to poison? Hardly.

In front of the fire in Richard's games room we discussed the matter over frothy cappuccinos prepared by Shorty.

Richard narrowed his hawk-like eyes. "You're insulting me, Charlie, if you think I'd stoop to poison. What? Have I nothing left in my tank?"

"I didn't say you did it. I just told you the circumstance. Someone tried to poison you and someone tried to poison Mini. End of story."

"You insinuated."

"No I didn't. I don't believe for a minute that either of you are involved. This is what I believe for now. There is a new Triad in town. Tony told me so and it makes sense. There are three big players in this town as we know. Tony, you, and Mini. Firstly, Tony. They kidnapped Jack to get Tony out of the U.S. and it worked. You forked over a hundred million dollars and we got Jack back. But Tony is still a major player in Macau. They wanted him out before and they'll want him out again. Secondly you. You went into hiding because they wanted to eliminate you but you had to come out to save Jack. They all know you're here, you can bet on it. Then let's take Mini. Mini kidnapped you over the heroin and priceless artifacts so let's not rule out her power. She's a major player worth eliminating too.

He looked silly with cappuccino on his nose. "I'm starting to like you better, Charlie. But not much. How do you see this whole thing playing out, if you'd be so kind?"

"I don't. We wait. I'm guessing that for Mini they'll want money. And I'm guessing that they'll kill her anyway. There'll be some sort of negotiation that will go wrong. That way they get the money and eliminate her too."

"And me?"

"Don't eat yellow snow. And don't eat in restaurants."

"That's all you've got? Like I couldn't figure that out myself? You're pretty lame."

"There is another option. You won't like it but here goes. The two of you could work together. You and Reynolds, with Tony backing you. Power in numbers makes sense to me."

"I'm not working with that little shit. He worked for me once, as you well know. He's the finest computer-hacker in the world, possibly the universe. Then he dumped me and tried to steal from me. And we're suddenly buddies? I don't think so."

"Think about it. That's all I'm saying. Divide and conquer is what they'll do. And you're much stronger together that you are individually. Tony will back you a hundred percent. You won't even have to ask."

He bit his lip. "I'll think about it. Ok. I just did. The answer is no."

I stood up. "There's a leak in your organization. I'll leave it up to you then to figure it out. Someone knew you'd be at the Salmon House the day Freddy died and that someone is working here."

He looked a bit pale. "Before you go, Billy wants to see you. He's in the office on your right."

Billy put on his happy face. "Amster! I'm gwad to see you. Did you bwing dumplings?"

I felt guilty. "It's too early for dumplings. They're not open yet. I don't suppose money would help." I took out a wad of bills. "How much?"

He shook his head. "Money won't help. I'm hungry. No good food here. Look how skinny I am?" He lifted his shirt to show his ribs.

He had gotten thinner, actually. "Have you told Shorty what you need to eat?"

"He only cooks for Wichard. And he says if I don't wike it fine. Eat a piece of bwead. I'm twierd of bwead."

"Ok, Billy. I'll see what I can do. I'll drop by with a big bag of Chinese food later today. I can't come every day but I can make it today. I'd have it delivered but we'd have trouble with the guards. Understandably so. We have to protect Richard."

He beamed. "Sank you, Amster! Sank you wery much."

So, back at the spying suite I guilt-tripped Jackie. "Your brother is starving at Richard's. He's living on bread. He doesn't get to party like you do and hobnob with Mini Chin."

He half-smiled. "Is he ok?"

"He's surviving. But he hasn't made new friends like you have."

"Willy just weft. He went out to get lunch for Weynolds. It's sad. Weynolds cwied. Willy cwied. So I cwied too. It's sad."

I almost cried. "It's not good, that's for sure. But hopefully there'll be a message soon. We can't take action until then since we don't know what this is about. We can only guess."

He brightened. "I'm gwad I'm fwends with Mini now. Maybe I can help."

I ruffled his hair. "You help all the time. You're a very important member of our team. So is Billy. We couldn't do it without you."

He giggled. "Maybe one day I'll be Amster's boss."

"Good luck with that. It's a fine aspiration."

"What's that big word mean?"

"It means goal. What you're working toward in achievements."

He screwed up his face. "Smaller words, Amster. You're hurting my head. Try dumplings."

I left to pick up his lunch.

I couldn't get Lana McGoogle out of my head so I went back to the marina with the same results. Big Burley tried to punch me so I kneed him in the balls. I then stood over him while he rolled on the ground. "Feels good, doesn't it fella? A sucker punch, I mean. You're pretty good with those."

He groaned.

"So, I'm guessing, Burley. Hope you don't mind me calling you that since I don't know your name. But I'm guessing, Burley. Here's what I'm guessing. You were the guy that followed behind McGoogle's sailboat and brought him back. I've been wrong before. And I'm not ashamed to admit it. But this time I'm probably guessing right. Yes or no?"

No answer.

"I'll answer for you then. It's a yes."

An angry crowd of boaters was beginning to gather so I backed away. "You're lucky, Burley. Because I carry a gun and next time I'll blow your fucking balls off."

It's was Julia's birthday and a party was in progress when I arrived at 33 after dropping off the Chinese food for Jackie and then Billy. I was hungry myself but more wanting a good stiff drink. Shoeshine met me in the foyer and patted me on the back.

"It's always good to see you, Charlie. With the life you lead we never know if you'll be coming home."

Whew! A compliment from Shoeshine? My whole life growing up in that house he'd threatened me with his gun. "What's up? Why are you being so nice?"

He grinned. "You're too damn smart, Charlie. Word is, there's a cop out there wanting to shut you up. Know anything about that?"

I nodded. "Is Peter here?"

"What do you think? Every freeloader in town is here. Tony made certain of that. Not that Peter is a freeloader. He's a smart cop and can likely help with Coppilani."

I took a big deep breath and headed for the noise. "I hate this fucking shit," I mumbled.

"Me too." The lovely birthday girl was standing by my side wearing a floaty taupe dress. "Don't you just hate all of this? I only wanted a dinner but Tony said no. He wanted the big circus. Jack would like a circus. So, the caterers are here preparing for seventy-five."

I gave the first love of my life a kiss on her cheek. So, maybe she turned sixty on that very day. Sixty was the new twenty in my eyes. "Do you want to marry me?" I asked.

She smiled. "Sure. Right after hell freezes over. You know I love you, my darling. You're just a big risk. If you could ever get it together with my niece, well, that would be great. That would be terrific."

"I married her twice. She ended it both times."

"Because?"

"She doesn't like me."

Her round hazel eyes sparkled. "And?"

"First time I don't really know. Other than Jack picked up a bum on the Tahiti beach and none of the weddings stuck."

"And the second?"

"Is this the third degree?"

"Definitely. You've loved Jillian since the day you walked through the front door. You adored her. She was the darling girl you carried around on your back. So? The second?"

"I don't want kids. I don't like kids. I never have."

"There's something more, Charlie. I've known you most of your life. You've lived in this house since you were ten years old. What are you afraid of?"

I coughed. "I'm afraid of kids. They scare me. They come out of the woodwork like mice and then what do you do? Chase them with a broom?"

She held my face between her two lovely hands. "Charlie? Stop it. You are a big strong man, strong enough to be a dad. You'd make a great dad, in fact. I mean, think how wonderful you've been with Tommy. He idolizes you. Not just because you rescued him but it started long before. All the video games, your taking him to movies and dinners out? Bowling? I mean you'd never bowled a day in your life before Tommy came along. You have it in you, Charlie. You have it in you to be a dad. A great dad."

"To teenagers, maybe. Not babies."

"So, let's peel the onion. Babies are not going to bite your ankles. What are you really scared of?"

Big deep breath. "I live a dangerous life. You know that better than anyone, Julia. And I don't want to bring a child into the world that could end up without a dad."

"Don't you think Jillian knows that? Give her a little credit, Charlie. She's perfectly capable of managing on her own. I mean, she's rescued a hundred million trees and she can't change a diaper? And she can always bring her brood back to 33 Terrace Place. She has a backup system here, you know."

At the bar I poured myself a monster. And I managed a few gulps before someone poked me in the back. "Make mine big, Hamster. And don't be so stingy this time."

# Chapter Eight

AFTER I PICKED MYSELF UP from the floor I shook my head. "Jack?"

"No. It's my evil twin, Mack. He's a big drinker so don't be cheap with Jack's booze. It's not like you're paying for it."

I did the side hug before turning on him. "What the hell are you doing back here?"

He made a face. "Ah? It's sorta my home. I paid for it myself you know. And I still pay the taxes on this damn museum."

"You know what I mean. You're at risk when you're here. You know that better than anyone given your history. And you make Richard vulnerable."

"I asked myself about that, you know. And the answer? Richard was vulnerable before I left. Remember Freddie? And I'm not going to live my life on the lamb. If I get killed I get killed. Say something nice about me at my funeral."

Willy sauntered up behind him. "Good to see you, Jack." He held out his hand. "Nice tan."

Jack smiled. "Glad someone wants me back."

"Charlie wants you back too. He's just a worrywart. Apparently you mean something to him. Where's my mom?"

"She wanted to go home too. She's tired of me and we're both tired of the sun. Tahiti is getting crowded now. It isn't what it used to be."

"Has anyone told you that Mini has disappeared?"

His mouth dropped. "When?"

"Last night. She got nabbed on her way home from Reynolds' place last night. They took her Mercedes too."

"Richard?"

My turn. "No. It wasn't Richard. I talked to him today. There's a new player in town but I'll tell you about it later. I have to catch Selic since he's heading out the door."

In the foyer I said, "What the hell is Jack doing back? And why do I think you had something to do with it?"

Kevin Costner plowed his fingers through his thick blond hair. "Because I did."

Statue David started to sway. There was always something going on, he implied. Secrets.

"And?"

"Someone had to make sure he was ok so I nominated myself. He was getting antsy. He wanted to come home. And when I told him Coppilani was after you he ran to his plane. End of story."

"I can look after myself."

"Yes, you can. No doubt about it. But the wars are heating up and he wants to be a part of things. And, of course, he wants to keep an eye on you."

"Great. Now I have to keep an eye on him. Like I'm not busy enough. Oh well. It is what it is. Jack is home."

Just then my beautiful ex-wife floated down the stairs in a feathery pink gown, her long blond curls flowing behind her. "Oops! Two thugs? There should be a law against that."

"Hello Jillian," we said in unison.

She pushed right passed us.

Peter shook his head. "Let her have the damn kids, Hampton. You're never home anyway."

"That's the problem. I'm always working and I don't need nagging. Do you think she wouldn't nag?"

He laughed. "She would. She definitely would. You just might have to compromise."

"And then what? She'd want more. She'd likely want me working in the warehouse nine to five."

He slapped me on the shoulder. "Yeah. You're kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place. It's a no win, no win. But keep an eye out for a cruiser. It wouldn't surprise me if Coppilani buys a couple of guns on the force. He's retired, yes, but there are guys who owe him favors, for sure. Why don't you just back off, Charlie? He'd back off too, I know. You were friends once. He used to be a decent guy."

"Used to is the correct term. He went dirty and took two young cops with him. They didn't know what they were doing he had them so screwed around. But I sat outside an OR while a boy in critical condition fought for his life. I sat beside his mother and I'll never forget the pain on her face. Am I going to back off? Never. And I need you to provide me with the ID of the survivor. We need to get him into the witness protection program ASAP. I understand he went into hiding but he won't stay there forever."

When Peter had gone I headed back in to say my goodbyes since I had things to do. I told Jack I'd drop by the warehouse in the morning. Jillian told me to drop dead and not to forget my luggage so she could cancel the roach inspector appointment the following day. Nice.

I didn't have things to do actually. Other than to water Robert the Plant and to sit at my nice tin desk. I waved to Chestnut Gelding while opening a pile of junk mail. Another credit card? Without even asking? I threw it into a desk drawer with the rest.

"I thought I might find you here," said the perfume at the door. "Mind if I come in?"

"Are you stocking me Lana McGoogle?"

"I might be. I thought we might have sex on your ratty sofa."

"Come in. That's the best offer I've had all day."

Lana removed her designer coat and straightened her tight, midnight-blue dress before wiggling her bottom into the chair across from me. "I came to apologize. To say sorry."

I pulled a bottle of whisky from my desk and poured two generous glasses. "Great. Let's have make-up sex. Right now."

She giggled. "I wasn't serious."

"I was. Didn't you see the sign on the door? Charles Hampton, Sexual Deviant? You're very brave to come inside."

She narrowed her glossy brown eyes and shook back her long dark hair. "I didn't buy a plane. I don't own a plane. And I'd like to know just where you got your information."

I leaned back in my chair. "I only got a hint. Not a fact. As yet there's nothing to tell. I'm looking into it and I'll let you know what I find. I do believe you, however. There's a lot around you that doesn't exactly add up."

"I'm glad. I like you, Charlie. I like you a lot."

"I like you too."

It was tempting but after a while I closed the office door and followed her down the steps to the street. She was beautiful but she wasn't Jillian.

I was whistling on my way home and I can't even whistle. I hate whistlers too and when I hear someone making that awful noise I want to shoot them. That's how twisted I am. I felt guilty. Then I didn't feel guilty. Then I felt guilty again about entertaining thoughts of another woman. Jillian and I were on a never-ending path to never. The cards were stacked against us. Kids? I didn't even like her cat. I was thinking such thoughts when a cruiser pulled up beside me on _Robson_ and my passenger window shattered. Then my windshield shattered. I was lucky that I didn't shatter too. Luckier still that the cruiser had to move along with traffic but the message was clear. Somebody wanted me silenced. Again.

At home picking glass out of my hair I got the call from Billy. "Dead guard! Come Amster! Shorty shot guard!"

Ok. Since my Beemer was toast I fired up the old green truck I saved for such occasions and barreled off to Richard's in a 67 Chevy. I was cruising to a murder scene in style. Shorty met me at the patio doors pacing. "You good man, Cha'lee. Very good man." He patted my arm.

"You good killer," I replied smiling. "You very good killer."

He smiled back since he had no fucking idea what I'd said. He led me to Richard who was seated by the fire. Two healthy drinks sat of the tray between us. I snatched mine up like a one arm bandit.

"Wanna tell me about it, Richard?"

"Not yet." He guzzled his own drink. "I'll tell you after a second drink." He snapped his fingers at Shorty who set about preparing more drinks. A tray of drinks, to be exact, which he set on the table between us.

"You expecting company, Richard?"

"Not if I can help it. I'm counting on you to kill your share, Charlie. I can still count and there are eight drinks on that tray. Four scotch and four whisky."

"None for Shorty the killer?"

"No need. Shorty has a forty in the kitchen. Given tonight he'll be drinking it straight from the bottle."

"Where's Billy? Is he safe?"

"As long as Shorty's got a gun he is. Billy's in his bedroom. I told him to stay there until I tell him to come out."

I waited. Three drinks later I was still waiting. Oh, well. I wasn't doing anything anyway at four o'clock in the morning. "Where's the body?"

"In my bedroom. Just inside the door. Shorty heard him and shot him in the back."

"Good. Good for Shorty. He needs a raise."

"Shorty has more money than you have I can tell you that right now. Willy invested his money in real estate and he's worth several million. You?"

"I have a mortgage on my condo. It'll be paid off before I die."

He almost smiled. "Well, don't piss Jack off. You're in the will for half. Half a billion is nothing to sneeze at."

"What do you want to do about the body?"

"I'd like to have it killed."

"Ok. I know someone who could take it away no questions asked. Agreed?"

"There's some blood. Not a lot surprisingly. But some."

"I know someone who can take care of that too. Anything else?"

"It was stupid of me to come out of hiding to save Jack. I was happy being you."

"History. What about today? And tomorrow? We have decisions to make and we have to make them fast."

# Chapter Nine

AT THE SPYING SUITE THE following morning, Jackie was cranky. "Mice ate my weftovers. They chewed through the bag and ate my bweakfast. I hate them."

"I'm doubling your salary. That means it's been doubled twice on this job."

His bottom lip drooped. "Don't care. It's not your money so you're not paying. Wichard is paying and Wichard has wots of money. He should pay more."

"It won't be long before we're out of here, Wildman, and we'll go on a holiday. Willy's mansion in California hasn't sold yet. So, let's say you, Billy, Willy and I fly down and get a little sun when this is over?"

"You always pwomise, Amster. That's all you do. Just pwomise me I never have to come back here again."

"I promise."

"You're full of shit, Amster."

Just then Willy arrived at Reynolds' to cut the other part of the deal. It didn't go well. Still no word on Mini and Reynolds wasn't interested in meeting with Richard under any circumstance. Richard had had his little brother killed and may even have nabbed Mini, no way.

Willy dug in. "You met with him at my house in Santa Ana. That didn't seem to bother you."

"It bothered me." He made a squinty face. "But I didn't meet with him there I just attended the same function. You guilt tripped me and made me call a truce for two days or you'd blackmail me. You're not a nice guy, Willy Chan."

Willy smiled the infectious Willy smile. "I called in my markers, that's all, with both you and Richard and I'll do it again if you want your mother back."

"Of course, I want Mama Mia back! Why would you say such a thing?"

"Because Richard doesn't have her. I know that for sure. Someone tried to kill Richard again last night and unless it was you, there's a new player in town."

His mouth froze into a hard, thin line. "You know it wasn't me. Yes, I still steal from his bank accounts. I like to have fun. But the war between Richard and me is over."

"Then you should have no objection to meeting with him today."

He thought about it. "We can't meet here. And I'm not going to his place. So what do you propose? A cemetery?"

"No. I propose a meeting overseen by Tony Chan. At the guest house at 33 Terrace Place. His home."

He chewed his lip. "Who will be there? I won't go without you."

"That's fine. I would expect to be with you. And Charlie will bring Richard. So including Tony there'll be five of us."

"I'm not going if Charlie's going to be there. Charlie stole from me."

Willy sighed. "Like you've never stolen from anybody? Please! You just bragged about stealing from Richard Chang's bank accounts. And about Charlie. You payed Charlie to do a job he decided not to do and he returned the money. That's not called stealing. Would you like to return the money you just took from Richard?"

He screwed up his face. "No. Maybe I just don't like Charlie."

"You wouldn't be alone. A lot of people don't like Charlie." He winked at the camera. "Charlie is a horse's ass."

I pulled up in front of the quaint yellow house on _Jefferson Street_ just before noon. I say quaint because _West Van_ was a mix now with so many older homes torn down and replaced by mausoleums. The integrity of the dwelling had also been preserved as flowers spilled from window boxes and beds. I rang the bell.

The small woman in the doorway invited me into her parlor and hospitably offered tea which I declined. We sat across from each other on opposing floral loveseats.

"I remember you, yes, Mr. Hampton. You're the man who tried to kill my son."

Big breath. "Well, mam. That's not exactly how it happened as I told you at the hospital. I only shot back in self-defense. He and his partner were hunting me. I had no choice."

"He told me that, actually. Had he not you wouldn't be sitting in my house." She pushed a stray grey hair into the topknot on her head. "What is it that you want from me today? Anthony isn't here."

"I gather. Is he out of the country?"

"Yes. He left with his girlfriend as soon as he could. Right after he got out of the hospital."

"Are you in touch with him?"

She narrowed her bright blue eyes. "Why are you asking all these questions? Why is Anthony any of your concern? The sergeant, or whatever his high rank was, got off. And he blamed the boys for stealing the drugs which was ludicrous. My son knew absolutely nothing about drug smuggling nor did the boy that died. They were new recruits so excited about their jobs and upholding the law." Tears filled her eyes. "It isn't fair. The system is broken. So broken."

"Do you think your son might be willing to come back and clear his name? If we put him in a witness protection program?"

She didn't know. She'd have to think about it before contacting her police friend who knew how to contact her son without being traced. Maybe. Just maybe.

By four o'clock we were all seated at the dining room table in the guest house of 33 Terrace place drinking whisky and scotch. A lot of whisky and scotch since nobody wanted to talk. Finally, Tony said in a raspy godfather voice,

"We are gathered together to make history here today." His brown eyes twinkled. "We are about to unite three powerful organizations. Do you have the rings, Charlie?"

Finally, everyone laughed.

"Sorry. I dropped them in my drink but we'll have them in a couple of days."

So, it began. The triumvirate. The triad determined to prevail.

After I dropped Richard off I headed for the warehouse just in time for the cocktail hours. I grabbed the chair across from Jack just in time to catch the tumbler of whisky spinning towards me across the desk. He was happy to be home.

"Thanks for the guards, Hamster. AR 15's? You're too kind. You don't think I can shoot a gun?"

"Not an illegal gun. A bibi maybe."

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Ok. I'll keep them. Tony tells me you've been busy. Got shot at, did you?"

"I'm driving a rental. That's all I'm going to say."

"Robocop?"

"I'm guessing. Peter thinks so too. Robo will be retried and I will testify. And no. I'm not backing off."

"I didn't think so. You've never been sensible, Hamster. I bought my suit for your funeral before you were thirteen years old. It's a little small now but it's still hanging in the closet."

# Chapter Ten

SOMETHING ABOUT THE HONDAJET WAS sticking in my craw so I paid the little beauty a visit at her _Abbortsford Airport_ hangar. She was tucked neatly behind a closed door so I got out of my rental to snoop. It smelled like money. Old money and new money. A lot of money combined. It wasn't long before a pushy night guard came trudging along. We chatted a little. I lied. We chatted a little more. I lied more. Funny but he didn't believe that I was Lana McGoogle's brother. End of story. Beginning of a new story, though, because as I was driving away I met Lana McGoogle coming in. She didn't recognize my rental and I didn't recognize her _Ford_ sedan either. What no _Mercedes_? What kind of game was being played? I wheeled around in time to see her enter the hangar through a side door, a door she quickly locked behind her, keeping me out. I waited in the dark. I chain smoked. About forty-five minutes later Lana reemerged, slid in behind the wheel of her sedan, and sped away. I tailed her.

So, imagine my surprise when she didn't return to her Shaugnessey mansion but instead headed for my _Denman Street_ office. Luckily, I have a parking space out back and I took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. I was already crushing out a cigarette in the ashtray when Lana appeared in the doorway.

I smiled. "I was that good, was I?"

She shook her long dark hair and squinted. "At what?"

Alright. I could play games too. "You're lousy at Scrabble, Lana."

She nodded. "I don't often play, you see. I should likely practice so I can beat you next time."

Red flag. The white blouse beneath her leopard raincoat bore a red wine stain. The meticulous Lana?

I leaned back in my chair. "So, what can I do for you tonight, Lana?"

"I'd like to hire you to investigate my husband's death. Maybe you know that he drowned."

I nodded. "I do."

"But now I don't think he drowned at all."

"Why is that?"

"Because someone texted me from his cell today."

"Was it him?"

"I don't think so. But I'm not sure. He wanted me to meet him in Vegas."

"Really? Why?"

She turned red. "He didn't say. Maybe it's because he can't come home. What do you think?"

So, Lana McGoogle was not a woman to trust. I knew it the minute I caught her slumming in bed with slimy Marco Midolo. "First of all you need proof he's alive. Ask for it. If and when you get proof come back and we'll talk." I handed her my card. "I'm always on my cell."

"Would you be able to go to Vegas for me?"

"I'm a poor substitute I think."

"I'd pay you well."

With what? James had cleaned her out and I knew enough to know he had. "Well, Lana. You know quite a lot for a person who doesn't know very much. But the answer is no. Not interested. That's not my line of work."

In the doorway she turned back to me. "Think about it, Mr. Hampton. I pay very well."

I pulled out a bottle of whisky for a quick shot. Either Lana McGoogle had multiple personality disorder or that was not Lana McGoogle. I followed Lana across the _Lions Gate_ to a house in _North Vancouver_ on a slope. Lights went on. Lights went off. Confused, I left. Why, exactly, did James McGoogle want me out of the country?

Word about Mini came the following morning and while Jackie was calling me, Reynolds was calling Willy. It seemed that ten million dollars was going around.

"It's not a lot." I threw my coat over a chair and joined Jackie in front of the monitor. "The guys that took Jack wanted a hundred."

Jackie was munching on a bowl of dry cereal. "Makes sense. Jack's a wot bigger. He's worth more."

"Ransom doesn't go by the pound, Wildman. It sounds like this is a smaller player. New in town, maybe, and letting us know about it. I mean poison? At least someone tried to shoot Richard. That's respectable. And now they've got Mini. Let's listen."

Reynolds was showing Willy the iPhone video. "It's Mama Mia! She's alive. See?"

Willy held the phone at an angle so we could see too. Mini was cussing. "@#$%^& kidnappers!"

Sorry. I can't repeat that kind of language. It was really bad. This went on for quite a few minutes, actually, and she wasn't giving up so they took the phone away. A man in a black balaclava came into view, his first mistake. "You have the number." Second mistake. I mean, he was dealing with a computer hacking genius. And yes, there'd be a phony name and address on the other end but Reynolds could work through that in a second. "Let us know when you have the money. Then we'll arrange a place and time."

"Holy shit!" Willy shouted. "That's Wally Nut! It's an inside job."

It was. Wally Nut was Lugs Nut's little brother. And you know the Willy saunter? Well, Willy thumped down the hall so hard he likely hurt his ankles, jacket back and showing off his big gun. With his strong right arm he dragged Lugs into the living room. Then he shook him hard. "Is there something you'd like to tell us Lugs?"

Lugs shook his head.

Willy played the video for Lugs. "Now is there something you'd like to say?"

Lugs turned all red. "No."

"Not acceptable, Lugs. "Do you know the man in the video?"

"I don't think so."

Willy shook his shiny dark hair. "Do you know what I'm thinking, Lugs? I'm thinking it's your brother, Wally. Remember him?"

Lugs started to cry. "I haven't seen Wally in years."

Willy wasn't backing off. "You're lying, Lugs. Look me in the eye and tell me that."

Lugs cried louder. "I didn't know he was going to do it. On our grandmother's grave I promise I didn't know. I live here in this building. Wally still lives at home." He was sobbing now, shoulders shaking. "I didn't know."

I texted Willy. ' _Ask if he talked to Wally the night Mini disappeared_.'

Willy retrieved a box of tissues from the kitchen. "Sit down, Lugs. I believe you. I've known you all my life and you're not a bad guy. You're loyal to Reynolds too."

Reynolds turned up his nose. "Well, I don't trust him. He was a bully in school."

Willy gave Reynolds the look. "Knock it off, Reynolds. He's worked for you for many years. School was a long time ago." He turned to Lugs. "Did you communicate with Wally on Thursday night? Text maybe? To say that Mini was here? And don't lie. He was a trusted member of Mini's A-team. You wouldn't have done anything wrong."

Lugs blew his nose. "I might have. I don't remember. I don't keep texts."

Willy nodded. "No problem. He may have just followed her here." He patted Lugs on the shoulder. "Now get back to work you lazy Lugs."

Lugs gave a half-smile. "You're a good man, Willy Chan."

"I don't think so. I killed Pea Nut in a shootout, remember. And I may have to kill Wally too. So just make sure you're not the third Nut on my belt. If I find that you had anything to do with this, anything at all, I'll shoot you too. Right between the eyes. No problem."

Talk about irony. Lugs was standing there with a semi-automatic weapon pointed to the floor and he was backing away from Willy. He left the room.

Reynolds twisted his mouth. "I don't trust Lugs now. He may try to kill me."

"Why would he do that?"

"For fun. They're all fucking Nuts."

The two old school friends finally shared a laugh.

Willy arrived at the spy suite shortly after leaving Reynolds. It was simply a matter of piecing things together. If Wally still lived at home with his mom where would he keep a kidnap victim? And who else was in on the deal because he wouldn't be acting alone? Although I didn't immediately see a connection between the nabbing of Mini and the poisoning of Freddie and James Wong – nor the attempted murder of Richard – I wasn't ruling anything out. The good news? It was Saturday night and the mahjong game was at Hazel Nut's house.

Jackie was pissed when I picked him up early Saturday night. He hopped in and slammed the door on my trusty green van. "I'm to be with you a hundwed per cent, Kow Gong said. He won't let me quit."

"That's good. We're a team. Don't get sulky on me, Wildman. I need you to perform tonight. You say you're good at mahjong and you'd better be or I'll beat your fucking head in."

"I'm good."

"You'll be playing with the best. Willy's mom will be there. And her sister, Maudie. Maya will also be there filling in for Mini who is out of town as far as the others know. I doubt Hazel knows that her son has been up to no good. But while you're playing I'm going to have a good look around."

Jackie gave me the evil eye. "Just me and old ladies? Sanks, Amster. Sank you wery much."

"Don't sweat it, Jackie. You won't be there all night. Just a couple of hours. Your aunt Maya told the others that you're a master and she's bringing you along to challenge them."

Big droopy mouth. "Great."

"That's a huge compliment since these women are the best in town."

He puffed up like a peacock. "We'll see about that."

I pulled over to the curb a block away to check the equipment. "I'll be able to hear you so don't let me down."

"I'm not walking from here."

I opened his door and pushed him out. "You're young. You won't die of exercise."

He grumbled his way across the street, down the sidewalk, and up the steps to Hazel's stucco house. And because he was wired I heard the grumbling of my name in vain a lot. However, once inside the house Jackie had to deal with a nasty parrot. Sweet Hazel, as she was known in the Asian community, owned a parrot, a jealous parrot named Theodore who didn't like to share. No, Theodore liked to heckle anyone who came near his precious Hazel, loudly and vociferously. He was a rude parrot with no fear. The game had barely begun, if fact, before Theodore made his move for control. "Big boy," he heckled Jackie. "Big stupid boy."

"Nice bird," Jackie said to Hazel. "Are they good to eat?"

"Stupid move," Theodore heckled from his cage. "Stupid, stupid move."

I pictured Jackie sorting out his tiles and hurling a few at Theo.

Theodore was not about to be ignored. "Wanna fight, boy? Wanna fight?"

Silence.

"Wanna fight big stupid boy?"

That did it. Jackie said to Hazel, "Does your bird need his tonsils out?"

"I don't think so. He hasn't complained."

I was now thinking that possibly Theodore had power of attorney.

"Bad voice," Jackie croaked. "Wery hoarse. Bird needs to see vet."

"He has been a little hoarse," Hazel admitted. "But I haven't been able to see about it. My arthritis is bad and I haven't been able to get out."

"What about Wally?"

Ata boy, I'm thinking.

"Wally moved out. He wanted to be on his own so he moved into the green house down the street. He's a good boy. He checks up on me. But he's busy with work and I don't want to bother him with things."

"I'll take bird to vet. I'll take him tomorrow."

Theodore shut up.

Jackie complained all the way home in the van. "Next time you play game with pawot, Amster. Bad pawot."

I smiled. "You outfoxed him, Jackie. You shut him up. I have to hand it to you."

"Talking wasn't so bad. It was after that. All he did was give me dirty wooks. He fweaked me out and made me wose the game."

"You may have lost anyway, Jackie. Those women are the best in town. They're masters."

"Do I have to take evil bird to vet?"

"No, Jackie. You don't ever have to see him again."

I pulled up to the spying apartment building and he hopped out. "Oh, I'll see him again, Amster. Count on it. But next time he won't see me."

Shortly after midnight I parked my old battered van down the street from a green Chinatown house off _Pender_ and Willy and I got out. He drew his gun.

"I'm really tired of this, Hampton. I'm a fucking genius and all I get to do is kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. I don't know why I'm friends with you at all. It's all your fault."

"Ok. I'll take some responsibility. I'll take responsibility for Jack and all three times we had to rescue him. But Tommy is yours. He's your cousin's daughter. And as for Richard, well, I suppose we can share that one, since you worked for him for years and he is Jack's son. But I'm not accepting responsibility for Mini Chin. You also worked for Reynolds and she is your mother's friend. The old troll is on your head, buddy."

As expected, a slinky black cat was patrolling the back yard with an assault rifle. I took him out with a tire iron. I then pried open the back door and we sneaked inside. Nothing on the main floor of the bungalow so we crept down the stairs. A television and two male voices could be heard from behind a closed door so we let ourselves in, guns drawn.

"Wally Nut!" Willy barked. "Fancy meeting you here."

Wally didn't even get up from his chair. Neither did Harry Lu, another member of Mini's A-team. They were small men, possibly five six, brown-eyed and wearing their black cat suits for some unknown reason.

Wally's mouth hung open. "Fuck, Willy! What the hell? We can cut you in."

"Na. Two million won't even get me through a car wash. Just hand over Mini. And we'll leave it there. No questions asked."

Wally wanted to think it over so Willy shot him in the arm. "That one grazed you. I won't be so kind next time. Let's go get Mini. Not that I want her but Reynolds does. And I can't believe you're stupid enough to anger _the Wrap._ What's wrong with your head?"

While Willy was in a back room freeing Mini I took the duct tape from my pocket and bound Harry to his chair. Then, with Mini emerging screaming, I bound Wally too and we headed up the stairs.

"That was fairly clean," Willy commented as we sped away. "No kills. Not even one."

Strapped into a back seat, Mini hadn't stopped screaming. "I could have been killed! They were going to kill me. I heard them talking. They had to kill me because I could recognize them. They had no choice." She started up again like a banshee.

Willy turned around. "You're alright, Mini. But you can't go home. It's too dangerous for you there."

"Can I go to a hotel?"

"No. We can't protect you in a hotel. You'll have to stay with Reynolds. He has guards twenty-four seven and there's only one door to the penthouse suite. His balcony doors are bullet proof and securely locked, as you know. Besides, he fixed that big room up for you for your old age so you're just taking it a little early, that's all. It's posh and better than a hotel. Hotel sheets don't have thread counts like that."

She sniffled. "It does have a fireplace. And a Jacuzzi in the en suite. And at least I'll be safe." She cried the rest of the way home.

# Chapter Eleven

SOMETIMES I QUESTION MY SANITY. Alright. Almost all of the time I question my sanity. After settling Mini into her new home I walked Willy to his _Mercedes_. I punched him on the arm. "Good night, sweet prince. Etcetera."

He slid in behind the wheel. "Quit with the Shakespeare crap. I'm not going with you again. Not to the killing fields. I'm done."

"You've said that before, bud, and you'll say it again. It isn't always about me remember. Sometimes it's about you. Do you want to go it alone?"

He sped away.

So, I had a thing in my craw about the house in _North Van._ And while crossing the bridge at three a.m. I got the call from Peter on nightshift. Robocop was going to plea bargain, he guessed. Why? Because I was too tough to kill. And he was too old to keep trying, Peter thought. __ I didn't believe a word of it. The house on the slippery slope was sleeping when I arrived, all but for one yellow window. Curiosity led me to a Venetian blind, half closed, on the east side of the building. I peeked in. Lana McGoogle was packing suitcases.

Alright then. Back across the bridge, through downtown, and onto _The Granville Street Bridge_. I parked in the dark shadows of a familiar cedar hedge and whiffed the fresh scent of evergreens wet with dew. Sweeping oak trees rose to shelter the _Shaugnessey_ mansion that lay beyond. I checked my watch under a carriage light. Four a.m. Oh well. There was no perfect time to break and enter. I followed a narrow path by the side of the house while fending off an attack by thick bushes and vines of a strangling nature. In the back garden I was confronted by Greek the Statue who was smelling roses and exposing himself to me. The poor bugger couldn't even scratch his own balls. With my handy B and E tool I let myself into a side door of the garage.

Lana's _Mercedes_ was parked alone in a space large enough to accommodate four cars. The door to the house was unlocked, a lucky break, so I stepped inside and waited for the burglar alarm to rat me out. Nothing. Since the lower level was dark I crept up the stairs to a lighted hallway, passing by pictures of old dead people in gilded frames. They had a sad look about them and appeared bored enough to have died from it. I turned right and headed for the double doors. Inside the master bedroom indigo ruled. Luxurious indigo draperied flowed from the ceiling, landing in puddles on the floor. A made-to-match indigo quilt was neatly folded and placed on a bench at the foot of the bed. Lana's long dark hair fell softly on the pillow as she lay facing a mirrored night table displaying a crystal lamp, a vase of white flowers, and a book of poems by Robert Frost. The problem? She had a bullet in her head.

It took a while. I sat down on the bench and wretched. After a while I called Selic.

"I just got to sleep!" he barked. "I'm on late shift, remember."

"There's a dead body here."

"That's new. A dead body in Vancouver. There hasn't been one here in years."

"I think you'll be interested in this dead body. A single shot to the head. Assassin style."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm standing beside the beautiful corpse. I broke into her house tonight."

"Great. You're a little old for a B and E, aren't you? Why are you looking for trouble?"

"Well, I found trouble. Big time. A dead woman. A missing husband."

"Call one of the juniors and let an old guy sleep."

"I can't for two reasons. First off, I'm not supposed to be here. And the second reason? The woman is Lana McGoogle."

"Holy shit!"

"I'll leave the front door unlocked as I slide out."

"You're not going to wait for me?"

"I wasn't here, remember. You got an anonymous call. I'm in a big hurry to catch someone at an airport and I need you to be somewhere else before here. A couple of carloads."

On my way to Abbotsford I thought about the McGoogle money. There was a ton of it dating back to mining and rumored prohibition. And with offshore stuff today there was a jet plane and her house. So, since slimy Marco Midolo was the family lawyer I decided to give him a call.

As always, Marco was glad to hear from me. "I told you never to call me again."

"You love me, Overcoat. You know you do."

He yawned. "For starters, don't call me Overcoat."

"Ok Overcoat. I won't call you Overcoat anymore. I just need to know one quick thing. Have you heard from James McGoogle since he drowned?"

"Not funny. What's it to you?"

I lied fast. "Rumor is he paid a guy to bring him back. Know anything about that?"

"No. But if I did I wouldn't tell you. Lawyer client privilege."

"So, he is alive. What about the will?"

"Lana was to inherit everything."

"He cleaned her out. He left her nothing. What about the house?"

"It would be Lana's."

"And if she died?"

"She hasn't changed her will so it would go to James. But James being dead it would be sold with most of the money going to her charities. But not all of it. She has a twin sister who will get some. They've been estranged for years but she still wanted to leave Laura something."

"Thanks, Marco. I'll call you if I need a sleazy lawyer."

"Give it up, Charlie. We were almost brothers, remember."

"Well, Jillian isn't my relative. And she was smart enough to dump you at the altar."

"She dumped you too."

"Well, at least she married me first."

Marco hung up.

Major chunks of money were lined up at the airport hangars, some of it busily preparing for take-off at dawn. I parked, lit a cigarette, and walked towards the Hondajet being fussed over by a small crew. A couple of thin pilots yet to show wrinkles were ordering people around. Mechanics were scurrying.

A large man wearing a dark suit and bowler hat came out of the hangar. It was Burley acting big.

"McGoogle around?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I do. Hampton. PI. He'll remember me."

"Stay there." He disappeared into the shadows.

A couple of minutes later he resurfaced. "Follow me." He held out his hand. "I'll take the wire."

I handed it over before following Odd Job up a set of rickety stairs to a small office that seemed to hang from the sky. There James McGoogle was seated at a box desk working on a laptop with his manicured fingers. His nails were growing out and he needed a trim and polish. He pointed to the chair across from him while Odd Job stood as an obstacle in the doorway.

"Wait downstairs," James said.

Odd Job grunted away.

James eyeballed me. "Let's cut to the chase. How much do you want?"

I thought about it. "I'm not so good with hush money. I blow it right away. I mostly buy guns to shoot people that I don't like."

He looked at me quizzically. "You have a price. Everyone has a price. There's a deal here. You can leave with the money and I can leave on my plane. How much?"

I leaned back in my folding chair that almost folded. James McGoogle was known to buy lot of people. Cheap type people bought for cheap. He was a man you shouldn't cross but if you did you'd be wise to slit your own throat before his people did, after slicing off your balls. "Lana's plane, you mean. You're dead so it isn't yours. Although a lot of people now know you're alive so that isn't the deal here. For starters, the guys fussing over the plane know."

"They were easy to buy."

"Marco Midolo knows you're alive. Soon everyone will know since you're going to inherit half a house. You own the other half naturally and now you'll own it all. This plane will be yours too if Lana dies."

He stood up. "We're getting ready for takeoff. I'll give you twenty thousand and not a penny more."

I smiled. "Well that's a trip to my barber. Surely you can do better than that. Do you want to tell me about the hired gun or did you do it yourself?"

He sat back down. "I didn't..." He looked to me like a man on the verge of telling a lie but knew it wouldn't work. He started and stopped two more times. Then he fell into a sulk. He lowered his head and pulled a gun from a drawer. "Why couldn't you leave things alone? Why did you have to come after me?"

"I think you have the order reversed. You're the one that came to my office wanting to hire me. To follow your wife, as I recall. So I did and I didn't even charge you. But then you faked your own death and your wife came to me. So, here's the problem, James. You wanted a PI, you got a PI. I'm here and you're not going anywhere."

He pointed the gun in my direction. "I don't understand your interest in this at all. I mean nothing to you. Nothing."

"Maybe your wife does. Or did."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about. I haven't seen my wife since I went sailing. I haven't been home."

"You left her with nothing, James. Is that a nice thing to do? And then you killed her."

"What? Are you crazy?"

"I just came from your house. Do you mean to tell me you don't know that your wife is dead?"

He cocked the gun at the same time I clicked my pen and sirens started to wail. Lights flooded the hangar as a loud speaker blared. "James McGoogle you are under arrest."

There's always a moment of hesitation by the man behind the weapon and I seized it. I sprang across the desk, grabbed him by the wrist, and tried to wrestle the gun away. We struggled atop a chair that folded and went down together with a thud. The gun fired.

# Chapter Twelve

AFTER A QUICK SHOWER AND shave I was off to Richard's beach house. Yes, James McGoogle was dead. Yes, I was questioned by the authorities. And the kicker? While I was standing outside the hangar talking to Peter and company, Lana McGoogle drove by. Although I knew her to be the twin sister Laura now, stuff was sticking in my craw.

Previously, Richard had questioned his outside guards and Shorty had too. Several times, in fact. It was now up to me to determine who was or wasn't telling the truth. Once again, Richard set up camp in front of the games room fire and over cappuccinos the two of us narrowed the list.

"It might be Charles," he began in his phony English accent. He looked magnificent in a red cashmere pullover above black pants and soft Italian loafers. "Charles comes into the house a lot to use the bathroom. He may be snooping around."

"Or maybe he has a weak bladder. Did you ask him that?"

"No."

"How long has Charles been with you?"

He narrowed his hawk-like eyes. "Almost eight years. He came with me to California."

"I think we can rule out Charles."

"Just because he cried when I cornered him?"

"No. Because unless he's simple he would have tried to off you sooner."

Richard sat back in his chair. "Maybe he is simple."

Alright. Richard didn't like me questioning his judgement. "We'll talk to Charles then. Charles can be first."

Shorty joined us to translate.

Charles was about two feet tall and just as wide. He was a threat, alright. His gun was taller than him. He shook a little out of fear or a nasty hangover.

I said to Shorty. "Tell him not to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt him."

Shorty shrugged. He hadn't understood a word I said.

Richard spoke to Shorty in Chinese. He nodded. He then spoke to Charles who nodded.

Second try. "Ask Charles what he knew about the guard that tried to kill Richard. How long had he known him, for instance?"

Shorty shrugged. Richard spoke to Shorty who spoke to Charles. Charles spoke back to Shorty who spoke to Richard. "Charles said that the guy was new here. One that I, Richard, brought over from Beijing. That he was a bad guy. A very bad guy."

I smiled. "Alright, Richard. Is there any reason why Shorty is here when he doesn't speak or understand the English language?"

Richard half-smiled. "A very good reason. Charles is afraid of me and stutters terribly trying to answer my questions. He's better talking to Shorty. That way we may get something out of him before he wets his pants."

Talk about irony. A guard trained to kill anything that moved was scared of his own boss. Well, they didn't call him _the Cleaver_ for nothing. Had I any sense at all I'd be scared of Richard too. The morning went downhill from there.

So, on the way to my office to meet Tony Chan, I mulled the matter over. King Chin was in charge of hiring Richard's guards and was meticulous when doing so. He conducted thorough background checks and new guards had to have served at least seven years with an affiliate. That didn't mean a guard couldn't be bought, especially one lacking the time to develop the expected loyalty to Richard. Richard's guards would lay down their lives for him in a flash. I got the call from Peter while pulling into my parking space.

"News flash, Charlie. You'll never guess who's related to James McGoogle."

"Someone not so nice?"

"Right. That surly old Judge Clark is his uncle."

"Holy fuck! They should have kept the old cogger in jail."

"I would have. And you would have. But the parole board felt differently. First offense. Life as a judge on the bench. Serving his country. Anyway, just thought you'd like to know he'll be after you."

"Yeah. Well, I need that right now. I'm not busy enough."

"The McGoogles funerals are tomorrow. Judge Clark has arranged things quickly. Do you want to attend? Julia is going. She did a lot of charity work with Lana and is pretty upset."

Big breath. "Now, why didn't I know that?"

"Maybe because you don't talk about your work. It's not exactly dinner conversation. Like, you don't sit down beside Julia and say, 'I killed another guy today. And his wife was murdered too. Maybe you know her'."

We left it there.

Tony, in full chauffeur regalia, was already sitting in my office talking to _Chestnut Gelding_ when I arrived. "He doesn't want to be called Ming anymore, Charlie. He just told me. He wants to be called Tang of Shang after the famous emperor. You wouldn't have any objection to that, would you? Or is that too many words for you to remember?"

The old coot was still trying to bully me. "It is three words. I might have trouble with that. What if I just called him Tang Shang. That's only two."

Tony giggled. "I'll test you later. In the meantime, how did your meeting go with Richard?"

"He didn't try to kill me. That was new. And I'm now convinced it was the guard Shorty killed that was the leak leading to the poisoning of Freddie, likely James Wong too. While there's still missing pieces to the puzzle, it's filling in."

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his old grey head. "Zu-lander would like to meet with you. I got the word last night."

"Really? I'll rush right over. You know, since his brother killed Jada. And he likely killed Freddie and James Wong. I can't wait to be his friend. But why me? I'm a nobody. Why does he not want to meet with you? Or Richard? Or Reynolds?"

"That will come. This is a preliminary." He giggled. "If you live we may try it. You are our emissary. You know. If they shoot the messenger we'll hide."

"Thanks a lot. What if I don't go?"

"He'll keep at it if you don't meet with him, Charlie. Do you want that? I mean how many others will go too?"

I thought about it. Tony could go, certainly. And god knows who else. "I suppose I have no choice. Where and when? I'll go alone. If I disappear I won't be missed."

His brown eyes twinkled. "Like Willy is going to miss out on such an occasion? He'll definitely be going along for the ride."

No choice. Things had changed at the Woos suite though. Jackie called me on my cell to say that Mini was being nice to Reynolds but by the time I arrived she'd given up on nice. Gratitude was apparently not a lasting thing with Mini as she was now thinking up ways to deal with Wally Nut. She was threatening Lugs too.

"Boiling in oil is too good for the Nuts," she said loudly. "Go on line and see if we can buy a rack. We'll pull them apart limb by limb."

Reynolds cocked his head. "They don't sell racks anymore, Mama Mia. They're too barbaric for modern times. We've outgrown stretching our enemies until their limbs come off. It's hard to believe but true."

"What about Richard? He's known for torture."

"He is. You should ask Richard what to do. I'm sure he'd have some good ideas."

"Are you saucing me?"

Reynolds smirked. "Not at all. While you were kidnapped I met with Richard. And Tony Chan. We have an agreement."

Mini slapped her empty glass down on the bar. "Since when do you make the decisions for this family?"

"Sorry. I should have asked you if it was ok. You might have said yes since you were all tied up and gagged."

Whew! Reynolds was asking for it. Mini turned purple. "I'm putting two more people on that list for torture. You and Willy Chan. Willy and his big mouth. Did he have to tell everyone I was tied up and gagged?"

Reynolds didn't even look scared. "They rescued you, Mama Mia. Charlie and Willy did. You're lucky to be alive. You told me that yourself. You knew your kidnappers so they couldn't let you go. Ever. They would have killed you. Be thankful."

Mini filled her glass to the brim. "I'm thankful, alright. Thankful that my favorite son died and that I'm left with a moron."

Reynolds lowered his head. "Sorry."

"Sorry who?" Mini demanded.

"Sorry Mama Mia."

Jackie was hopping up and down, his tall hair waving like a corn field in the wind. "I've changed my mind. I hate Mini now! She's mean. Weynolds twies."

I nodded. "He does try. And next time we'll leave the old gremlin to her enemies. I know I'm not going back to rescue her."

Jackie giggled. "You will. Cause Willy will go and you'll go too. She's Weynolds' mom."

I punched him on the shoulder. "So, Wildman. Do you think Reynolds is a moron?"

"Yup. He is. He only has four hundwed million in his accounts. He should have more."

"I dare you to tell him that."

"Sure. He made me take off my shoes."

"Yes, Willy's cousin. Remember he gave you his food because he thought you were poor and couldn't afford shoes. He kind of forgot that he made you take them off."

"He was dwunk."

"Yes, he was. And he had a good time. Reynolds doesn't always get to have a good time. He even laughed. A lot. Let's make a point of throwing Reynolds a party when Mini dies."

"Ok. Weynolds can have a party when Mini dies."

A prophecy? Little did we know.

# Chapter Thirteen

BEHIND THE WHEEL OF A fresh rental I collected Willy from his West End condo and headed across the _Burrard Street Bridge_. Minutes later we pulled up in front to a grey cedar house, mostly hidden behind a tall cedar hedge, in _Point Grey_. It as a grey day. On the ride over, my computer hacking friend told me what he'd learned. Zu-lander was a small player itching to grow bigger. As for racketeering, he was into a bit of everything; extortion, human trafficking – primarily prostitution – drug trafficking, loansharking etcetera. And assassination, of course. Willy figured he had maybe twenty guys tops, more likely ten. Since we were expected we were greeted by a lone guard on the front lawn. He waved us in with his AR 15.

Zu-lander had bad taste in furniture for someone looking to make his way up in the world. I mean, it could have been his grandmothers. Old stuffed sofas with doilies on the arms sat facing each other; floral chairs with doilies on the arms looked tired; a lace tablecloth on the dining room table said a lot about aging without saying anything at all. The only thing older than the furniture in the room was the family photo on the wall. It may have been left over from the Russian Revolution.

Presently we were joined by a small Asian woman who also looked old and tired. "I'm taking the meeting for my son," she began. We didn't shake hands. She motioned to two small chairs not exactly constructed for my six-foot-two frame. I took a sofa while Willy squeezed his bottom onto the worn flowers. He was a nice Chinese boy and wanted to show respect. Zu-lander's mother began,

"Which one of you killed my son in Beijing?"

Oh. Oh. Gap-tooth Zu. It had to be genetics because his mother was gap-toothed too. "I did," Willy and I said in unison.

She patted her short grey hair. "You will pay. Not today but soon. Just know that."

We nodded. We'd both spent a lifetime paying for something or other.

"My son would like to meet with Tony Chan. Richard Chang too. And, of course, that old bitch Mini Chin."

It was hard not to laugh. Speaking of old bitches... "I'm confused, Mam. I thought we were meeting with your son today."

She turned up her nose. "He doesn't meet with underlings. You're here simply to take a letter." She walked to a rickety buffet and extracted an envelope from a broken drawer. "Take this to Tony Chan. It's all arranged. He simply has to comply." She glared at me. "Don't be giving me that 'what if he doesn't?' look. I don't take kindly to saucy boys like you." She stomped away.

Willy and I giggled all the way home.

The only good news was that Julia looked stunning in black. If a guy had to attend a morbid occasion he may as well accompany the belle of the funeral. She even wore a little black veil on her pillbox hat. A sea of designer clothing, in shades of black and dismal, rode into the Anglican church on the backs of the rich. Peter and I sat with Julia between us.

"Do you know that Lana had been to see your Tina in the hospital?" she whispered.

In another story, Tina Clark took a bullet meant for me. "I didn't."

"She went to see her several times she told me. Tina is James' cousin. Did you know?"

"I do now."

Two gold ginger jars sat on either side of the pulpit while baskets of white flowers spilled from the stage above. Hymns began and people seemed to know them. Several acts followed the singing but none with any talent. Finally, a small woman wearing a grey dress and a set of pearls with two strands stepped to the pulpit. Tears streamed down her face. "She was my Lana. And she wanted to change the world from the time she was a little girl. She gave her allowance to homeless people on the street." She stopped to blow her nose. "She's gone now but not from my house. I have a Lana room with every toy she ever loved. I have scrapbooks filled with clippings from all her good work. There's pictures of sick kids in hospitals trying to get well. There are pictures of children in third world countries she sponsored so they could go to school and not go hungry. She went hungry, you see. As did Laura. I was a poor widow left with twin girls to support on a seamstress salary and it didn't go far. Her epitaph will read _Lana Loved and was Loved by all._

The pompous Judge Clark then gave a rambling talk on James and how he used to take him gopher hunting. I tuned him out after that. Outside, in the hot afternoon sun, Julia took my arm. "She was so young. Thirty-five? Not much older than Jillian."

Peter left to fetch our ride.

"Hampton," a crackly voice behind me cackled. "I'd like a word."

I turned to face Judge Clark. "Sir?"

The judge was wearing a tweed suit jacket under his old grey head and he shook his flabby jowls. "You have some nerve coming here. How dare you come near this family? Haven't you done enough?"

Julia stepped in. "What is it, Angus? Surely you know what happened the other night. The police must have told you."

"I don't need the police to tell me about this scum sucker. He was having an affair with

my nephew's wife and he murdered her."

I put on my best polite face. "Now why would I do that? Did she dump me?" I took Julia's arm. "Must fly. But it's been a blast."

"Don't you dismiss me! Who in the hell do you think you are? You think you're protected because Jack is a big crime boss in this town. He's not your real dad and everyone knows it."

"Really? I didn't know. Thanks for telling me."

He threw his short arms in the air possibly trying to look taller. "Show some respect. Sarcasm doesn't cut it with me."

I shuffled my feet. "And do you know what doesn't cut it with me, Judge Clark? You sending an assassin after me that put a bullet in your daughter. Then, paying a stupid cop to go crooked and try to kill me too. I think you did time for that, did you not, Judge Clark?" I emphasized the name.

A crowd had gathered and his red face wasn't doing so well. "We'll see how you handle your jail sentence, Hampton. Life without parole. Because the gun that killed both James and Lana was registered to you."

From the corner of my eye I watched the twin sister Laura sneaking away. And the kicker? She was wearing Lana's dress, white with little cap sleeves and a narrow red belt. I had a picture of that dress dating back to the first time I followed Lana downtown. It stuck in my craw.

On the ride to Jack's house I stretched out in the back seat of Peter's Lexus SUV. "Right. Like I'd off someone with a gun registered in my name. Give me a break. Maybe I am a killer. I'm just not a stupid killer."

Peter was adjusting his sunglasses while admiring himself in his visor mirror. He was a handsome specimen alright. "No one's ever accused you of stupid."

Julia was being her curious self. "Was the judge right? Did you sleep with Lana McGoogle, Charlie?"

When I didn't answer, Peter said, "Charlie is a pig. What do you think?"

"Thanks, pal."

Julia was texting on her cell. "I can't believe any of this. It's too bizarre."

There were missing links. "It's bizarre, alright. A guy I barely know is carrying around a pistol registered in my name. I saw the gun up close and thought I had one like it. Ironic?"

Peter nodded. "Where are you keeping your collection these days?"

"Here and there. Mostly in the truck of my car. But if that is my gun, and I guess it is, I kept it in a locked desk drawer at the office."

"But you don't lock your office."

"I don't. There's nothing worth stealing in there. Other than the old Luger. And nobody knew it was there. I just kept it as a toy."

Peter smiled. "Or for when a jealous husband might show up."

"I have my Gloc 9 for that."

"Your prints will be on it though."

"All over it."

Peter was weaving in and out of traffic, cutting people off on the _Upper Levels_ _Highway_. "You should probably talk to Marco."

"Oh sure. My favorite person. The shoddy lawyer. But I guess I'll have to. His flagrant ability to bend the law might work in my favor for a change."

The old Phantom IV was in the driveway when we pulled in. Julia turned to me. "Jack wants you to stay for dinner. I texted him about the gun. I'm sure he'll have some words of wisdom. He said that Tony will run you home later."

"No thanks. I'll take a cab. Tony doesn't drive so well when he's had a few. And I think today is a really good reason for us all to drink."

Jack and Tony were already at it when we walked into the living room. Drinks in hand they were bantering while seated on a white leather sofa. Jack's eye's crinkled at the corners. "Hamster learned his criminal ways from you, Tony. You taught him all the mafia stuff."

Tony's brown eyes twinkled. "I tried to but he never learned. Charlie is a bit slow. Like his dad."

"I've never killed anyone."

"I haven't either."

"Your organization has. A lot of people. He learned to kill from you."

At the bar I handed a drink to Julia and Peter before pouring myself a triple. I downed it just as a familiar female voice began to taunt, "I hear you killed your girlfriend. And her husband. I'm not surprised."

I turned to face my beautiful ex-wife. "Thanks, Jillian. Thanks for the vote of confidence." I poured her a glass of chilled white wine.

She tossed back her long blond curls and narrowed her hazel eyes. "Why did you kill her? Was she no good in bed?"

I smiled. "Well, I can't compare her to you since I've never actually gone to bed with you. I married you twice. That was painful enough."

She smiled back. "Don't lie. You slept with me. Not well but you did."

"Now, now!" Jack called from the sofa. "This is supposed to be a party. Hamster's going away party. Let's have fun."

Later, over a nightcap in the library, Tony said, "I got your email. I assume that Richard and Reynolds did too. So, I guess we're set?"

"We're set. Willy and I will go with you. If I'm not locked up at the time."

Jack nodded. "You're seeing Marco tomorrow?"

"Yup. I called him after dinner. I'm going to see him first thing. Can't wait."

Jack giggled. "You're not the greatest of friends, I know. But you both need to put the past behind you. I know he's a womanizer but Marco has a sharp legal mind. Just keep thinking that and you'll be fine. Keep the wise cracks to yourself."

Flashback:

Trish, Jack's assistant, appeared in the doorway, flushed and with a little girl smile on her face. She was quite a looker, actually, with her dark auburn hair, deep green eyes, and freckles tumbling over her face in no particular order. A looker until she turned nasty, that was. Then she looked like Chewy from Star Wars. "Marco Midolo is here to see Jack," she announced, like she was about to usher in Prince. "I mean, Marco Midolo?"

I was excited enough to yawn. "Stall him, Trish. Jack is cleaning up."

"My pleasure!"

So, who better than a shady corporate lawyer to beat Julia at her game? I mean Marco Midolo? About as crooked as the Upper Levels Highway, and twice as slippery, Marco had this phony baritone voice that he liked to project as though belting Othello to an empty theatre. Boom! A womanizer to the nth degree he had a habit of haunting late night bars with other men's wives, due to his glassy good looks and their stupidity. His claim to fame was a collection of overcoats in every style and shade and Overcoat Marco turned ugly on a dime.

No way did I like this Dr. Zhivago, especially after he sauntered in and drawled, "So, you are the Hamster. I've heard much about you."

Really? To me this meant he'd been reading graffiti left by bitter women in hotel washrooms all over town. But since he dared to call me 'the Hamster' I didn't feel bad in saying, "You too, Overcoat."

He cringed a little. He got it. "Ok. You don't like me. Well, I don't like you either."

I giggled. "Oh, boo hoo! You're breaking my heart." Since I wasn't exactly likeable this was not fresh hot news.

All spruced up, Jack joined us at a good time, while Marco still had teeth. With cheeks shining like a choirboy's he sat forward in his chair to intervene like a Boy Scout leader. "You two are going to make the greatest team. I just know it!"

Overcoat showed his teeth. "Right."

I tried to fart. Where was gas when a guy needed it?

Slimy Marco caught sight of the photo on Jack's desk. "This isn't your daughter!"

Jack beamed. "She's something else, isn't she?"

The lawyer drooled. "Beyond. She's every man's dream."

"That's how people get false teeth," I mumbled.

Marco didn't get it.

"They get them knocked out."

Nothing. Not even a flicker. Talk about vacancy! They weren't going to fill up this motel anytime soon. I removed my Gucci loafer and banged it against Jack's desk. "You're not going to believe this, Jack, but someone has crapped in my shoe."

Jack was hardly amused. Taken with charming Marco he considered me a goof. "I'd really like your cooperation here, Charlie." Oh. Oh. Charlie? He only called me Charlie when he was boiling mad. "Could you care to cut me a little slack?"

Since I was sitting on my knife at the time and couldn't cut much of anything I leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Leo has plans. Big plans for three weeks down the road." Then I yelled. "And don't tell that simpleton you're about to hire as your lawyer."

Midolo and Browster was on the seventeenth floor of a building at _Georgia_ and _Burrard_. I left the warmth of a sunny August morning, strolled into the glass-roofed lobby, and passed by a mosaic mural of indigenous people on a hunt. I took the elevator to seventeen and walked through swinging double glass doors trimmed in gold. The reception area held elaborate furniture and seascapes by BC artists. It was a flashy office for a shabby guy.

At the desk I was greeted by a Marco-type, buxom and blond with large bonded teeth. She wore a pink suit and tried very hard not to smile. I said hello.

"Mr. Midolo is expecting you but you'll have to wait." She pointed to the seating area.

"I don't wait."

She cocked her head. "You'll have to wait."

"I don't wait. There are other lawyers in this building."

"You're very brazen, Mr. Hampton."

I smiled. "You got that right. What are you doing for lunch?"

That did it. She smiled back. "He was very adamant."

"Try again. Tell him that two people are dead and he knew one of them. Maybe he even murdered her."

Her pink mouth dropped. "He won't like that."

"Too bad. Tell him I murdered one of them too. That we finally have something in common."

She abruptly stood up and galloped down the hall. A door opened, a door closed, and opened again. Overcoat Marco came storming down the hall. "What the hell are you doing, Charlie? You scared the poor girl to death. She's in the bathroom crying."

"Speaking of death two people are very dead and you slept with one of them at the Hotel Vancouver. I caught you."

"Lana?"

"You don't read the papers?"

He blushed. "I do. And I know about the McGoogles. Come on."

I trotted behind Marco down a hallway that turned into another hallway and into a brown leather office. It smelled like shoe polish. The gas fireplace in the corner had been given the summer off. A leather tray containing a decanter and two cut glasses sat on the desk and he poured a good shot in each. "I know it's early but you look like a man who could use a drink. Which one did you kill?"

"Well, my gun says both. But I only killed one in a fight to get the gun away. I'd previously called Peter so there were cops outside at the time. Forensics says the same gun killed both Lana and James and that gun is registered to me."

"Why was James McGoogle trying to kill you?"

"I don't know. I guess he didn't like me."

Marco almost laughed. "You're not that likeable, Charlie. I have to admit I've thought about silencing you myself." He leaned back in his chair and raised his Bruno Magli loafers to the top of his desk. "Well, Hampton. It looks as though you finally need me for something. How humbling is that?"

# Chapter Fourteen

IT WAS A HOUSE BUILT into the mountainside in treed North Vancouver, the glass front being three stories high, the back two. Vivid flowers tumbled from raised beds while a vintage E-Type Jaguar sat in the driveway. Nice. I rang the bell. Nothing. I let myself into the back yard through a side gate. A terraced garden of white roses meticulously planted in circles came into view. An extension of the house provided a covered deck area where a dark-haired woman in a white short set sat alone.

"Are you a burglar?" Laura asked in a flat voice.

"I might be. But you know me."

She shook her head. "I don't know you. But I saw you at the funeral."

Alright. I could pretend too. "Your sister was shot with my gun. Your brother-in-law too."

"Sit down. Would you like a cold beer?" She opened the little fridge beside her and extracted two Coronas. "Sorry. No lime. I'm too lazy to go into the house. What is it that you want?"

"Maybe just to know more about your sister so I can track down her killer."

She nodded. "Do you have a name?"

"Just call me sir."

She threw back her long dark hair. "Alright, sir. Let me just say that twins can be very different. Lana and I were. When we were children, for instance, she was the one that brought home the wounded birds. I was the one shooting them out of trees with a slingshot. Need I say more?"

"So you weren't thinking each other's thoughts then."

"Hardly. We never dressed alike. We had different interests. Different friends. The fact that we looked alike was deceiving. And as my mother said at the funeral we were poor. I wanted money. Lana never cared about money. Ironic, isn't it? She's the one that married it."

I looked around. "Unless my eyes deceive me you're not so bad off yourself."

"Well, I'm lucky. I have a wealthy friend who mostly travels so I'm basically a house sitter. The car is his too."

"Was her marriage to James happy?"

"As far as I know. We weren't close."

I stood up. "Well, thanks for your time. I'd give you my card but you already have one."

Still in North Van I was standing at the Seabus ferry terminal dragging on a cigarette and watching people hustling at rush hour. Behind me the Skyride cable car was chugging up to _Grouse Mountain_ lugging summer tourists for the view. I was thinking about the upcoming meeting when Peter called my cell.

"Newsflash, Charlie. Robert Coppilani attended Judge Clark's parole hearing and spoke on his behalf."

"What? That's crazy. Robo's testimony put the judge away."

"Maybe he felt guilty. I don't know. He obviously had a change of heart. He influenced the board."

Alright then. What sort of mutual business attracted men like Robert-the-Crooked and Judge Clark? The appeal hearing against Coppilani was months away, months we didn't have. The big Phantom IV pulled up beside me with Shoeshine at the wheel. Tony Chan was arriving in style. We were the first to be seated at _Gusto De Quattro_ and after the drinks arrived Tony whined,

"I don't know why I have to meet with a punk. I've never met with a punk. It's beneath me."

"It is. And in this case it should be simple enough. He's bumped off a few guys and tried to bump off more. I need to get a handle on him so just agree to everything. Yes is your answer. Got that?"

He reluctantly nodded.

"Say yes."

"Charlie? Go fuck yourself."

Next to arrive was the determined Mini Chin. I told her the same thing.

She screwed up her face. "I don't like you, Charlie. And I'll make my own decisions, thank you."

Willy, Richard and Shorty came in next and since we'd already had the discussion we sat in silence until a third gap-toothed Zu arrived with his man. I mean, what was it with the gap teeth? Ting Zu could suck the rind off a lemon through that space. Mostly we drank. Even Shorty drank so I assumed Willy was driving them home. Finally, with salad, pasta and entrées ordered, Zu-lander spoke in a whisper.

"It's not complicated. A hundred million from each and I'll go away." He was a threatening figure alright, since when seated his chin hit the table.

Tony whispered back. "No more extortion. Or I'll break your fucking balls."

Ok. Tony had listened to me.

Mini, who had asked for a cushion, could actually see over the table and she glared at her fellow dwarf. "Come and get it. I keep that much in my bra."

Zu-lander turned red. "Richard?"

Richard nodded. "You're in my will. You can have it when I die."

Ok. So, the night was a bust. Zu-lander left before the food arrived but not without uttering some nasty parting words. "I'm putting a curse on you. One of you will die before dawn."

And one of us did.

Things happened fast after that. The call from Jackie woke me shortly after three a.m. "Weynolds is squeaming! Mini is dead. Come quick!"

I arrived at the spying apartment just in time to see Willy walk in upstairs. Reynolds was howling, alright. He was a sorrowful mess. Mini's houseboy had called earlier to say that Mini was dead. Police had come to the door. She'd been in a bad car wreck and didn't survive. Reynolds was crying, Willy was crying, and Jackie was crying too. I let him cry for a while.

"That sucks," I said.

We watched as Reynolds told the sad story between sobs. "Her car veered from the outside lane into the inside lane and then into a cement median. It doesn't make sense. She hired a driver because she doesn't drink and drive. Well, not usually. But last night she knew she'd have a few so she hired her usual driver. He's a student at Simon Fraser and doesn't drink a drop. It doesn't make sense."

"Did the boy stay with the car while Mini was at dinner?" Willy asked.

"I don't know. He may have gone into the market to get something to eat. Mama Mia would have given him money for that. He's a hungry student. He likes fish and chips, she told me once. And there's a good place in Lonsdale Quay."

"But the boy's ok?"

"He's in serious but stable condition. It's sad." He howled.

I called Peter. "We need a fast read on that car. Pronto."

Jackie was still bawling when I left. "You didn't always like Mini, Wildman."

He sniffled. "I like her better dead. She's nicer dead."

It wasn't rocket science. I decided not to wait for the vehicle inspection report before proceeding and Willy agreed. On the way over to Point Grey I argued.

"You have a nice place overlooking the ocean. Mama Gap-tooth would be happy there."

He shot me a filthy look. "Well, we need her to be happy, for sure. She's such a nice lady. You have a spare bedroom. I'd say hold her there if I thought you could keep your hands off her, you pig."

"Ha. Ha. As I see it we have two options."

Willy was busy writing the ransom note. "And?"

"She'll need to be guarded. Richard has guards and he has a shed outback. However, what's to say it's not full of crud? He likely uses it for storage."

"Option two?"

"The warehouse. Jack has guards. I know because I picked them out myself. What say we kick Tony out of his office? It's off Jack's office and has no windows. We could tie her to the chair for a few hours."

Kidnapping was easier than rescuing the kidnapped, Willy and I discovered, after nabbing the victim as she opened the door at seven a.m. Old people tend to be up early, I guessed, because they have so much to do. A treed driveway helped as Willy ushered Mama to the car with a gun in her back, and trust me, he would have had no problem blowing her away. Mini Chin had been like a second mother to him and while not a good mother, details didn't matter at this particular point in time. Mama Gap-tooth never said a word.

All the way over to the port I practiced what to tell Jack. It's not that we could sneak Mama in since he was always at his desk by seven. Maybe I'd tell the truth although my history with Jack had proven he was better with lies. But what lie? We were bringing in an old lady to tie her up and gag her because? I called Tony and asked him to stay. Not only did he stay he was standing on the steps waiting for us to deliver a little old Chinese lady in a housecoat. He tried not to laugh.

"Ok. There's no girls your own age, boys? And a gun? That's pretty kinky. Did you have to tie her up too?"

Since we had yet to gag the old dwarf she cackled, "I know you, Tony Chan. And you'll pay for this."

"Oh? And they're paying you too? Sorry but you're not my type."

All this and we had yet to pass by Jack who collapsed in his chair. "Jesus Christ! Is it Halloween? Is that actually Jackie Chan?"

I told you it wouldn't be easy. We pushed Mama past Jack and into Tony's office where I left the two in search of duct tape. But on my way to the warehouse I had to pass by Jack again. "I know there's a good reason for this, Hamster. But right now I'm scratching my head."

He scratched his head.

After we'd finished the job of securing Mama, Willy and I took the two chairs across from Jack's desk. Tony preferred to stand. Jack pulled a bottle of whisky from a drawer. "Holy shit! I thought you two were trouble when you were little but what the hell? What the hell?"

I cleared my throat. "You may have some sympathy for Mama, Jack. Since you've been kidnapped three times. That's all we did. We kidnapped." I reached for the tumbler of whisky spinning towards me across the desk.

"You did what?" he roared. "That's an old lady in there. She's not worth much given her age. I mean who would pay for someone waiting to die? I was at least worth something."

I shot Willy the 'it's your turn' look.

He nodded. "Do you know that Mini Chin died last night?"

Jack's mouth dropped. "How?"

"Her driver smashed into a median after swerving into the inside lane and bouncing off another vehicle. "She died on the spot and her driver is in serious condition."

"That's a shame. I'm sorry to hear that. Please give my condolences to Reynolds."

Willy nodded. "Charlie and I think the car was tampered with. The student who serves as her chauffeur is an excellent driver and doesn't drink a drop."

"And?"

"Did Tony not tell you about the meeting?"

"He did. In the library last night. So this has something to do with the Zu guy?"

My turn. "It has everything to do with Zu-lander. He's an extortionist, among other things. He killed Freddie while trying to kill Richard. He killed James Wong trying to kill Mini. And he finally managed to kill Mini. And basically he wanted a hundred million from each principal at the meeting to not kill again. They turned him down flat and he left. The rest of us ate dinner and we assume Mini's driver did too, giving Zu enough time to tamper. Our captive is his mother.

He again scratched his head. "She must have had him at sixty."

"Thirty, maybe. Zu would be fifty. He's not a boy."

"So, you didn't want to wait for the auto inspection?"

"No time. They'd be moving her today for sure."

"And what am I supposed to do with her? Wait until she dies of old age and burn her?"

"If that's what it takes. But I'm thinking truth serum. We need to locate Zu and she'll know where he is. It works in the movies."

Willy giggled. "You can give her the needle, Jack. Remember when you took Charlie and I for our measles shot and we cried because you told us it was really going to hurt? You called us babies. We were ten."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Where are you going to get this serum?"

Willy's eyes twinkled. "We all know a guy who knows a guy. Your other son has a very good doctor on his payroll. I worked for Richard, remember. And while he prefers torture he sometimes takes the coward's way out. Zu just better hope that we find him first because Richard is really pissed about Freddie."

# Chapter Fifteen

AT TEN A.M. MARCO AND I walked into the police station/court house together. We looked like bookends, Marco in a light beige suit and me in a similar cloth.

I elbowed him. "I told you not to wear beige."

"And I told you not to get goofy. Save your act for the boys.

We were ushered down the hall by an eager young cop in peak physical condition. He sprinted.

"They don't stay that way," I told Marco. "It's about all those donuts. They take their coffee with cream and sugar too."

"Charlie!" Marco warned.

We entered the territory of two plainclothesmen who were sitting in a windowless room looking bored. The tall balding guy wore a huge hooked nose and a suit already crumpled from the heat.

"He should have worn beige," I whispered to Marco.

The shorter guy was a testament to my donut theory. He had a shiny round face, a Santa Claus nose, and looked a bit shifty to me. I figured him for the bad cop right away.

Good Cop pointed to two chairs. "We'll skip the formalities."

I held out my hand. "That's not very friendly."

Marco slapped it away. I sat down while my lawyer leaned against the wall. I got it. Omar Sharif was wielding his power.

Bad Cop addressed Marco. "You were told that your presence is not required."

He shrugged. "And I told you it was. My client has had an accident. He has lost his memory."

The two officers studied me like a lab specimen.

"What happened?"

I looked around the room. "Are you asking me? How should I know? I have amnesia."

Bad Cop turned to Marco. "What happened to your client, Mr. Midolo?"

Marco pawed his mustache into place. "Don't ask me. All I know is that I had to help him pick out his clothes this morning because he couldn't remember where his closet was. But I'm guessing because of the bruise on his forehead he had a bad fall. That he maybe whacked his head on the bathtub."

They studied me again. Ok. So all I had was shoe polish. As long as they didn't try rub it I was safe.

Bad Cop was shuffling his feet under the table. "What about the night of August twenty-seventh, Charlie?"

"What about it? And who's Charlie? Charlie who?"

Marco cut in. "Maybe Hamster will ring a bell. His dad calls him Hamster."

Bad Cop took a big deep breath. "Alright, Hamster. Can you tell us about the evening of the twenty-seventh?"

I looked at the ceiling. "Hamster? That's some sort of rat, isn't it? You'll not get away with calling me that." I made a fist.

Bad Cop gritted his teeth. "So you can't remember what happened on the night of the twenty-seventh"

"I don't think so. I can't remember what happened today. I took a crap is all I remember. A big one that didn't all flush down. I can't remember ever crapping that hard. But then I can't remember ever crapping at all."

Good cop pushed back his chair and headed for the door. "This is pointless. Get out of here. Both of you. We're done."

Marco called behind the two. "Sorry if you feel that way but just for the record my client did show up for questioning. And he was co-operative. There'll be no need to round him up later on."

I nodded. "Was I cooperative? I can't remember."

We followed the officers down the hall. "The press will be outside," Marco whispered. "I'll handle them. Just smile at the cameras. Show your gorgeous teeth."

Marco chose to speak to an attractive blond reporter with a horsetail of hair and long legs. "Mr. Midolo. Have there been any new developments in the McGoogle case?"

He shook his handsome head. "Not that I'm aware of."

"What about your client Charles Hampton? Is he a suspect?"

"No. He was only wanted for questioning. Many people will be questioned regarding the tragic deaths of James and Lana McGoogle. My client is merely one of them. Now if you'll excuse me I have guilty people to defend." He winked at the reporter who returned the gesture with white teeth. "I know where to find you, young lady."

In the parking lot Marco turned to me. "Naturally I'll defend you in court. If you live that long. The people out to get you are not going away." With that he hopped into his _S650_ _Mercedes Cabriolet_ and sped away.

I got the call from Willy shortly after. "You need to get an assistant," he whined. "This shit is beneath me."

"What did you find out?"

"You were right. Dead right. The house in North Van is owned by James McGoogle. The car too."

I turned the rental in for a new rental under a new fake ID and headed across the bridge. Peter, the crooked cop, came in handy when I needed to be someone else. I let myself into the back garden where the brunette lay sunbathing in a white sequined bikini. I cleared my throat.

"I knew you'd be back," she said without looking up from her lounger. "What did you find out?"

"What do you think I found out?"

"I think a snoop like you would want to know the owner of this house."

"You think right. And the car."

She sat up, threw on a wrap, and headed for a bar under the covered deck. Two Coronas came out. "And?"

"And nothing. You're the one with something to tell."

We sat down on floral chairs at a glass top table.

"My sister and her husband were good to me."

"Very good. But I thought you told me that you and your sister were estranged. You didn't even know if she was happy in her marriage."

She looked like an angel with her dark hair tied up in a knot and her brown eyes glistening. "I told you that because you were snooping. Do you think I was going to tell you the truth? Hardly."

"Don't take me for a fool, Laura. I know when people are telling the truth and when they're not. And right now you're lying to me." I left the beer untouched.

On my way back downtown Jack called to complain. Mama had kicked him in the balls.

"What were you doing in there?" I hollered. "You were to leave her alone."

"Easy for you to say. Have you ever been a kidnap victim?"

"Have you recently had a lobotomy? You know I was. Your real son kidnapped me with the intention of killing me. Remember Richard?"

"Ah. Yes. I forgot. Were you thirsty?"

"I didn't have time to be thirsty. I only had time to plan my escape. And Won? She held me captive too, along with Willy."

"Well, I was thirsty. I thought that old lady might be thirsty too."

"Jack! You were a hostage for several days. Three times. Mama has only been there a couple of hours."

"She's old. Old people get thirsty faster. I took her a bottle of water and tore the duct tape off her mouth. Apparently it hurt. You should have tied up her feet."

Breathe, Charlie, breathe. "Jack? I'm only going to say this once. People have died because of her organization. Many people. Do not, I mean, do not give her anything. Understand?"

"Yes," he said in a little voice.

"We're bringing the doctor tonight. Can you keep your hands off her until then? She'll get water, guaranteed. And a nice shot of sodium pentathol."

Did Jack learn? No. Later in the day he took the captive a licorice string only to be kicked in the balls again.

# Chapter Sixteen

SO, AFTER DARK THE GOOD doctor was delivered by two of Richard's guards. Willy supervised the event while I played games on my cell. It was comical, actually, standing outside smoking as Richard's guards and Jack's guards talked about the weather. It was guard talk, for sure, since they had nothing else in common.

"Do you think it's going to rain? A lot of clouds moving in."

"Could be hail, maybe. It's been pretty hot."

"There was a bad hail storm in 05. Dinted my car."

"Killed my neighbor's dog. He was an old Mexican hairless. He would have died anyway."

"Don't you just hate hail?"

It wasn't a long session. A half-hour later, Willy and the good doctor emerged. Willy shook his shiny dark hair. "I would have guessed it. A good Chinese boy doesn't live far from his mom. Ting Zu lives next door."

Was that good news? It was if you weren't about to embark on a shootout. Choice one. Kill Ting Zu. Choice two. Wound Ting Zu. Then what to do with Ting Zu. Jail? Do you have proof that he's a criminal? Not really. A lot of supposition. Choice three. Kill Ting Zu. It was a shootout alright. Three down and Willy and I walked away.

"I don't think they're dead," Willy said, while dusting off his designer suit. "I think they'll all live."

I shook my head. "Wrong. But stay positive. It's what I like about you."

"And you're a fucking cynic. It's what I hate about you."

"Somewhere in the middle?"

He smiled. "Yeah. I guess we make a good team."

So, what to do with Mama. Willy had an idea. "What do you think she'd do if we just let her go? You know. Like a wild animal."

"I don't think so, Willy. She's pretty old. She likely wouldn't make it out of the parking lot."

Plan B. "Let's think about it. Zu-lander won't be able to help her now. But I don't want his boys knowing where she is either. She's a catalyst. Let's just leave her with Jack for a day or two. He likes to baby her."

"Yeah, right. I don't know what he did with all that spare time before Mama came along."

"Same old. Same old. Money laundering through the shell companies. That's about it."

So, now you're thinking I'm a hard ass and you're right. I was not about to sit back and wait for someone else to die. Freddie was gone. James Wong was gone. Mini was gone too. And in my mathematical mind I figured three minus three equaled zero. So try something. Just try it.

Back at the bar on East Hastings Street something had changed. The bartender.

"Fick, Tina! What the hell?"

Tina shot me her best gothic smile. "Hey, Charlie. Long time no see."

Flashback:

Tina was not your average girl next door unless you lived beside the Munsters. But she did live next door and took Gothic to a new level of black: long black fingernails, black paint smeared across her little mouth, black tattoos on her cheeks, and long silky black hair cloaking all of the above like a stage curtain threatening to open to a bad play. She was wearing a black fishnet top above a short black shirt and black leggings.

"What the hell, Tina? No vacant buildings to haunt?"

She brought me a double whisky. Canadian Club. "I'm a student, Charlie. I need money. Unless you want to keep me."

I thought about it. "Sorry, Tina. I'm a predator but not a deviant. How old are you now, thirteen?"

She shot her nose in the air. "I'm twenty. A grown up. Wanna fuck, Charlie?"

"I want to wash your mouth out with soap so stop it. What about family money? Your mother is a McFadden. Your family has hospital wings in its name. And your dad is a retired judge. What's this about?"

"I moved out. I had a fight with my dad and my parents cut me off. You know mom is weak where dad is concerned. They're giving me nothing."

"Until?"

"Ever. Apparently I'm out of the will."

"Where are you living?"

"I'm sharing."

"With whom?"

"You're not my dad. Although it would be great if you were. I could brag about my gorgeous dad if you were my dad."

She was getting on my nerves. "Tina? You're out of here tonight. This is not a safe place. When I leave you leave with me. Understand?"

She waltzed away.

Across the bar, biker was giving me the finger, which amounted to a stump since he was missing the middle finger of his thick right hand. We laughed. Robocop took the stool beside me.

"How you doing, son?"

"Not so good. I killed three men tonight."

"Are you trying to impress me?"

"No. I'm just telling your ugly brown coat a sad story. I'm telling ugly that the next time he sends a cruiser after me there'll be more dead bodies and none of them mine."

He coughed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I stood up. "You never do. But the ugly coat knows. Talk to your coat." With that I went behind the bar and steered little Tina Clark by the arm. I was about to acquire a mouthy housemate.

The following morning I awoke to something burning on the stove. Eggs. Don't you just love burnt eggs? Skinny Tina was standing at the stove in her underwear.

"Rule number one," I grumbled. "No eggs." I shook my finger at her. "Rule number two. Clothes. In my house you wear clothes."

She giggled. "Do you happen to have any that fit me? The clothes I wore here stink like bar."

"And your other clothes?"

She tossed back her long silky hair. "Well. It's kinda sad. My dad didn't actually throw

them behind me when he kicked me out. I don't have any other clothes. Do you want to go get them from my dad?"

Sure. "I'll take you shopping. I've got things to do but I'll give you a card. It's a phony card from Peter but it'll be good for today."

She jumped up and down. "I've died and gone to heaven! I mean, you and Peter Selic too? I've really died and gone to heaven. All you have to do now is throw in Willy Chan. I've always wanted Willy Chan."

"You and every other woman in town. So go put on your bar clothes because we're leaving."

About Willy Chan. Willy preferred hookers. He had his favorites with only one rule in mind. They weren't allowed to talk. Why? Because Willy hated stupid women. He hated stupid people period. Willy wasn't about to meet his intellectual equal on this planet so when he wanted to talk to someone intelligent he talked to himself, he always said.

After dropping off Tina I headed to the warehouse to check up on the kidnapped. Jack was cranky. "I'm tired of this shit, Hamster. Did you have to bring her here?"

"I'm thinking on it, Jack. Problem is, she knows us now. You may have to marry her."

He squinted at me. "You think that's funny?"

I grabbed my customary chair. "I do. Just get sterilized. I don't want the two of you reproducing."

"I don't know why I ever brought you home. You have a bad gene. Want a whisky?"

"Na. I have work to do. I just wanted to make sure you had a good supply of condoms."

He threw a pencil at me. And on my way out he called behind me. "Happy Birthday, Hamster! We'll see you tonight."

Holy craperoni! It was my birthday. I was a Virgo, like it or not. Define Virgo. Wikipedia says _deep sense of humanity._ Hello! I always wanted to be an Aries. I wanted to be stubborn and obnoxious. Oops. I guess I was an accidental Aries. At the Marina, big Burley was delighted to see me.

"Where's the hat, Odd Job?" I started. I knew how to butter up.

"Not funny. Get out of here." He held up a fist the size of a boulder.

I patted my gun. "Want to talk?"

"Not particularly. I'm tired of cops snooping around."

"I'm not a cop."

"Yeah? You shot James. With your own gun."

"You know the truth. We'll either have it here or in a court of law. Makes no difference to me. I've got plenty of time."

He motioned me inside.

So, back on the slippery slope in North Van I rang the bell. Since it was raining I figured she'd be inside. The E-Type Jag had put its awning on. Laura was a stunner, alright. Almost six feet, and always wearing white, the slim brunette ushered me in. A silver coffee pot sat on a white coffee table. All the furniture was white. She poured.

"What do you know?" she stammered.

I eyed her in the brown eyes. "About the same as you. It's raining. The sky is grey. Sex is good on a rainy day."

She smiled. "That easy?"

"I wish. Not that I wouldn't like to have you. I'm human. But you know I couldn't let you go."

She stood up and pulled me to my feet. "We'll see about that."

She kissed me long and hard and although my knees were weak I made it out the door.

My joints creaked. I had to hobble to the bar after the inquisition by Shoeshine who said I needed to get a sex life. How come? I looked gaunt. Willy needed to share those gorgeous Asian twins, he said. Right. Like Willy was going to share.

"You had sex," a jealous voice behind me said. I turned to face Jillian.

"With myself, maybe."

"Oh, no. Don't give me that, Hampton. I smell perfume and it isn't yours." She shot her haughty nose in the air. "No. It's definitely not Old Spice."

"Thanks a lot. Maybe it's Tina's."

Tina was just coming through the door.

Jillian's mouth dropped. "What? You're a pedophile now?"

"Yeah, right. I'm providing a roof over her head since her dad kicked her out."

She didn't believe me. "Why did he do that?"

"She was smoking pot in her bedroom," I lied. "It was the vapor kind and she thought he couldn't smell it. Wrong."

She giggled. "Good luck with her. Keep your door locked or she'll be crawling in."

Clothed in black from head to toe, Tina slinked her way to the bar. "Can you make me a Cosmo, Charlie?"

"Nope. I only know one recipe. I can pour you a whisky since you're finally old enough to drink."

She made a face. "I'll make it myself. Go try to win your wife back."

I would have except something more fascinating came into view. Parked at the dining room table an interesting guest was chatting up Maya Chan. I grabbed Jack. "What the fuck?"

He laughed. "I couldn't really leave her there in the dark."

"You could have left a light on."

"I never thought of that. She won't be any trouble, Hamster. Her feet are shackled. She's presentable. I even brushed her hair."

I inched my way over. Once again, I was in the twilight zone, a.k.a. Jack's house. Mama Zu was sipping a glass of wine while Maya was saying, "Is that real velour?" She tossed me a dirty look. "I've always wanted a velour housecoat. But it's obviously not on the budget here."

Tony elbowed me in the ribs. "Put it on your list, Charlie. Just make sure it comes with a rope."

Maya stomped away.

From the corner of my eye I could see Richard shaking his head. No way was he coming in our direction. The night went downhill from there and by the time Willy arrived, Tina was drunk on a couple of Cosmos. She leaned on his arm. "Willy Chan. I've always wanted you Willy Chan. Willy Chan Chan."

He tried to brush her off to no avail. "Charlie? Does this belong to you?" He knew she did. "Can you come and get her please? She's crumpling my suit."

I figured I had time for a quick last drink so I headed for the bar. "Hampton!" Willy called behind me. "Call off your dog."

Damn. I'd have to have the final nightcap alone.

# Chapter Seventeen

SO, TRY NOT TO THINK about sex with a beautiful woman when so freely offered and I had to turn her down. Damn Jillian for screwing me up. I might have been a pig. I even practiced my oink to no avail.

Outside the house on _Jefferson Street_ I straightened my tie. There was nothing pleasant about talking to a guy I'd shot in self-defense. His scars didn't ask for reasons. Inside, the tea was being poured in the parlor and Peter was talking about the witness protection program and about taking the son from a mother who'd just got him back. Tears streamed down her cheeks. I knew she was going to blame me so I didn't stay long. We'd have our day in court.

Although I had yet to be charged in the McGoogle case, vultures were breathing down my neck, hot and sticky in the Virgo sun. A lot wasn't right with the McGoogle affair. Why had Laura gone to the hangar twice to see James, the last time a little late? I left _The North Shore_ with several thoughts in mind and more work to do __ until Willy's call changed my direction. There'd been a shootout at the warehouse and Mama Zu was dead. Jack had been rushed to _Vancouver General_ in rough shape and I was in major shit.

Tony was waiting inside the front hospital doors, lecture in hand. "You just had to take her to Jack's, didn't you, Charlie? Like the warehouse was the only option. You're going to be the death of me."

"How's he doing?"

"Not bad for a guy in surgery. It will likely be a while before we know unless he dies on the table. I'm really mad at you, Charlie."

I nodded. "I'm mad at myself. But I'll get to the bottom of it."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "You damn well better. Do you know that he got shot trying to protect that old lady? The gunman told him to get out of the way but he wouldn't. Shoeshine watched the whole thing through a crack in the door. He drew his own gun but the gunman escaped before he could shoot."

"Nice. They shot an old lady bound and gagged."

"She wasn't bound and gagged. Jack kept her loose in there. Took her meals too. Even brought her one of Maya's dresses. Shoeshine said she could have escaped at any time but she was scared. Someone had killed her son and that someone might kill her too."

I lowered my head. "That someone was me."

"Or Willy. They killed Mini. And Freddie. And James Wong. And they weren't going to stop there. They deserved what they got."

"How did she know her son was dead?"

"How do you think? Jack told her. He told her she needed to move but she didn't know where. Now she doesn't have to worry about it."

I checked my cell. Do you think you can keep me posted? I'll be back but there are things I need to do."

He nodded. "No hurry. With shrapnel these days it's not a simple bullet. Take your time. Go to the beach."

Whew! Sarcasm. I wasn't going to get off easy.

Shorty met me at the patio doors of Richard's beach house. He patted me on the arm. "You good man, Cha'lee. You good man." He pointed to the chair by the unlit fireplace. "Whisky?"

Wow! A big word. I nodded. "A double, thanks."

He shook his head. "Big?"

I nodded. We were communicating like crazy as Richard came sauntering down the stairs. He almost smiled. "Glad to see that you and Shorty are finally getting along."

"We're best buds. Aren't we Shorty?"

Shorty came carrying the leather tray with our drinks. "You stink, Cha'lee."

"And you're still an ugly little prick, Shorty."

He went away smiling.

"So, Jack got shot," Richard said casually, like it was just another day on the farm. "It had to happen sometime." He looked handsome in a blue pullover and jeans although he looked handsome in any color at all.

I leaned back in my chair. "At first I thought it was you after Mama Zu. You know, because of Freddie. But then I thought you wouldn't have shot your dad."

He screwed up his face. "I might have. I've killed for less."

"This I know. You've tried to kill me a few times."

A smirk gripped the corner of his mouth. "What makes you think I'm finished?"

"Shorty. Shorty will protect me now."

Shorty was behind the bar trying to figure things out. "You bad man, Cha'lee. Very bad man."

I stood up. "I'll collect Billy Chan then and be out of Shorty's way."

Richard stood up too. "We'll miss him. We'll miss the empty fridge and cupboards. I mean, where does he put all that food? He's only four feet tall."

"I'll keep you posted, Richard. I'll let you know about Jack and when you can visit him in the hospital."

"Don't hold your breath. Hospitals make me sick."

Billy complained all the way over to the spying apartment. "I hate mice. You said no mice for me but you lied."

"That's very good, Billy. You can say lied now. You used to say wide. Did you learn that from Richard?"

He gave me a dirty look. "Wichard doesn't talk to low people."

"I see. So you were a low people at Richard's."

"Amster? You're full of shit. You lied about the mice."

"How about dumplings? How about I pick up a few orders of dumplings for you and Jackie?"

He nodded. "Ok. Six orders each and I maybe won't call you a liar."

So, back at the hospital Jack was still in surgery so I sent Tony home. And ironically, while fetching a coffee, I bumped into Judith Clark who was there doing her typical philanthropic deeds. We grabbed a coffee together.

"Thank you for taking Tina in, Charlie. She'll get her own place but it has to be the right one because it will be long term. Not a student residence. Something nicer. Maybe a little house. It breaks my heart but Angus says she's not coming home. They can't be under the same roof ever again."

Flashback:

Judge and Mrs. Clark could be conjoined twins they were so alike. Both were built like penguins with protruding bellies starting at the shoulder and sloping to the knee. They had curly grey hair, blue eyes, and stood about five feet tall. They wore wire-rimmed glasses, tweed coats, and oxfords laced with leather and both had vile tempers, as I was soon to learn.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Judith. The rift can't be mended?"

"Angus says not. That she has violated his privacy. Her laptop was broken so she went into his study to use his when he was out. He has about six passwords but she knew them all and tried one that worked. He was furious. Absolutely furious. It's not like it's an expensive computer. He just didn't want her snooping around. And I doubt that she did. She was just writing a paper."

"That's it?"

"That's it. He's not about to forgive her. At least not in the near future. Angus is very stubborn as you know. She's better off away from him for now." He eyes watered. "Tina is the end of the line. When Angus and I go she won't have anybody. I worry about it all the time."

"She'll have me."

She smiled through her tears. "That's comforting."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"You live a dangerous life. People like to try and kill you. If percentages count you likely won't live much longer."

"She wouldn't have to marry me."

She finally laughed. "I wouldn't wish you on anyone. However. Jillian is still waiting in the wings. Why don't you give her that baby she wants so badly?"

"You just said I'd make a terrible husband."

"Terrible husband, yes. Good father. You're immature and would make some lucky boy a good playmate. You're wonderful with Tommy. Think about it, Charlie. You love Jillian and she loves you." With that she kissed my cheek good-bye.

Before heading to critical care I make a quick call to Willy. What deep dark secrets hid in Judge Clark's computer? And while he was at it, could Willy check Robocop's hard drive too? Jack was snoring when I entered his room and his private nurse was too. Paraphernalia, such as blood bags and intervenes strung from a pole to his arm and he looked seriously pale to me. I pinched his toe and he half-opened his eyes. "Hamster. Did I die?"

"Almost. But they can't kill an old reprobate like you."

"Did Mama die?"

"I think so. I haven't seen her around."

"Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"Get some sleep. I'll be back. Doc says you're going to be alright."

My replacement was standing in the doorway glaring. "Are you happy now, Hampton? Your carelessness almost got him killed." Her face was red.

"I was stupid I admit. Really stupid. Sorry. But your dad got shot being noble. He was offered the chance to step away. He tried to protect an old lady."

"Oh. I feel a lot better now," she said sarcastically. "And that old lady was at his warehouse because?"

"Because I was stupid. I already said sorry. I'd cry but I don't have time." I hurried past her.

"Stay away!" she called behind me. "We don't need you anymore. Just stay away!"

So I did. During waking hours I stayed away because it was agreed with Tony and Shoeshine that Jillian was mad enough to get a restraining order and I didn't need to end up in jail. So, after midnight I sneaked back in to sleep on a chair beside Jack's bed and we snored together, along with an ugly nurse who snored louder than both of us. Around five I gave him a sip of apple juice.

"Good of you to come, Hamster. Did you bring presents?"

"Just a porn magazine from Donald my doorman. There's ketchup on it but other than that you're good."

"Is he still reading those damn magazines?"

"Yup. It's a long day there at the desk. He has a lot of time to read."

Jack giggled. "Among other things. Can I get out today?"

"I could break you out I guess. Other than that you're here for a few weeks. Until you heal."

"Jillian's mad at you, huh?"

"Irate."

"She'll get over it."

"Right. Hell doesn't actually freeze over. I think she's mad for the duration."

"Wanna bet? I think she has a secret to tell you, Hamster." He closed his eyes.

It was a long day between Jack visits, starting with breakfast at Willy's penthouse condo. Top secret. The raids were being arranged for the following afternoon. I headed home to shower and shave before visiting the boys at the spying suite. The mice were fine. They'd gnawed through a loaf of bread in the night but couldn't get to the leftover dumplings in the fridge. Nothing new at the Woo suite. Reynolds was still crying a lot. Lugs was babying him and Reynolds was babying Lugs back. It was a mutual grieving society. I missed Mini's little red heels clicking their way to the bar and obviously Reynolds did too. He'd taken up serious drinking to compensate for her absence so I sat down to watch for a while.

"Boy!" he called from his office. "I'll have another."

Taboo had returned to duty and he scurried down the hall. If you haven't met Taboo yet he was an interesting specimen of a man with a long body, short legs and extra-large feet. Taboo wore clown-like shoes and was bowling-ball bald. At the bar he poured his boss a tumbler of single-malt scotch and dripped his way to the office.

"Boy," Reynolds slurred. "You'll have to clean that up. With your tongue." He giggled.

Taboo fetched a towel from the kitchen and dutifully wiped.

Reynolds pointed to a chair. "Boy. Sit."

Taboo sat.

"You need to buy some hair. I don't mean to be rude but someone your age should have hair. How old are you, anyway? Twelve?"

Taboo blushed. "I'm thirty."

"Thirty should have hair. Pick out a wig. I'll buy it for you. You can pay me back."

"Thank you, sir," said Taboo, before bolting down the hall.

"Lugs!" Reynolds hollered in a big loud voice. "Get in here and bring me a drink."

Lugs dutifully pit-stopped at the bar to fetch a single shot of scotch. He wasn't stupid. Reynolds used it as a chaser.

He pointed to the same chair. "Sit down, Lugs."

Lugs did. He waited.

"Lugs?"

"Yes, Reynolds?"

"You're very tall."

"Ok," I said to Jackie and Billy. "Do you think he's going to ask Lugs to chop off his legs?"

Reynolds squinted. "And you have a big head too."

Lugs shrugged.

"And you're good at keeping secrets in that big head, aren't you?"

Lugs nodded.

"That's good. Because if the secret you and I are keeping between us ever gets out that big head of yours will be splattered all over this wall." He pointed to the wall. "Your brains will be wallpaper."

Lugs stood up. "The secret will go with me to the grave."

Reynolds smiled. "Good then. I won't shoot you today. But you better have the same answer tomorrow."

I got it. I didn't need a picture.

# Chapter Eighteen

IF WILLY WASN'T SO DAMN independently wealthy I'd put him on my payroll. "It's secretary William calling," he said. "I have the information you requested, inspector Hampton. Two passengers and two pilots on the McGoogle plane. James and Laura McGoogle."

"Next?"

"He changed ownership. He put the plane in Laura's name."

"And? The will?"

"He hadn't changed it, I guess because he was supposedly dead."

"Well, before he supposedly drowned he cleaned out everything leaving Lana nothing. There's another reason why he didn't change his will. I need to think on it a bit. Beneficiary?"

"Each other."

"And in the event of simultaneous deaths?"

"Charitable foundations."

"I see. But in the event of a surviving relative that could be fought in court and won."

"The twin sister?"

"I'm heading there now."

Laura in white received me in the white rose garden. She looked like a goddess sitting there in her long flowing gown and bare feet. She threw back her long dark hair. "I've been expecting you."

"I figured you would since I left a message." I sat down and reached for the Corona on the table.

"I never answer my phone. I saw your number come up, however, so I knew you'd be along. Why don't you tell me what you know?"

I guzzled half a beer. "Why don't you tell me what I should know."

"We can have it all, you know. You and I. We can leave tonight on my private plane and never look back. We could have a wonderful life together."

I thought about it for all of one second. "It's damn tempting. You're an extraordinarily beautiful woman for a murderess." I looked into her deep brown eyes. "Why don't you tell me about it, Lana?"

"I'm Laura, remember."

"No you're not. You're Lana. And no. I can't tell you apart. But do you want to tell me why you killed your twin sister? Starting with the gun?"

Long pause. "Well, you don't lock your office and a tin desk drawer is easy to pick. I figured you'd have something in there. If not, there was always a plan b. But I figured right."

"The bank accounts and investments?"

"James moved things around, yes. But as Laura I have access to all the money. It's in both their names."

"I see. With Lana dead there's no contest.

I drained my beer. "The plane was originally in your name."

"Until the day we were to leave. Then James and Laura changed it to Laura. Everything is in Laura's name."

"Of course. Laura was going to leave with your husband and leave you nothing. You were enraged. And with Lana dead the mansion would go to James too. And this house? He kept her here, didn't he? She was his lover."

She looked away. "Something like that."

"Did you know about this property all along?"

"No. I went through all of his documents when he was missing and presumed drowned. I accidently came across the deed to this place and set up surveillance. I saw her come and go."

"So, you killed her with my gun. I assume you killed her here. How did you get her into your bed?"

"I had help. I didn't do the job myself. James made it easy by sleeping in the plane. He was waiting for her there."

I nodded. "I saw her visit him there. So she died the night before I discovered her body and was transported to your house. Did James know?"

"No. He didn't. He didn't plan to kill me. He just planned to desert me, leave me penniless, and run off with my twin sister."

"I see. You were going to kill him too, weren't you, Lana? Also with my gun."

She didn't bat an eye. "I took the gun to him the next morning. As Laura, of course. For our own protection, I said. I was going to use it on him, yes. I just didn't plan on your interference."

I stood up. "So with James and Laura dead... It all goes to you." A friend of mine is waiting outside the fence. He's going to arrest you, Lana. Good luck with that."

Jack was sleeping when I arrived at the hospital at midnight but he looked a little better, not quite so white. I pulled up a chair across from his nurse who was reading a book.

"Is it a mystery?"

"It's romance. I have enough excitement in my life without reading thrillers." She was blond and wearing pink and pushing forty. "He's a little better today, your dad."

"No I'm not," mumbled Jack. "I feel worse."

"You're on a drip for pain, Mr. Jones. I can up it if you like. You're approved for higher dosages."

"Give me the max. I hurt all over."

While Romance Pink busied herself I pinched Jack's toe. "Did you feel that?"

"Can you raise my head, Hamster. I want to talk to you."

I buzzed up his head marginally. "Yeah? Well, I want to talk to you, too. What was with your protecting the old lady?"

"What was with your bringing the old lady to my warehouse?"

"I'm sorry. It was stupid of me. I thought she'd be gone in a day."

"She didn't want to go home. I even told her I'd drive her. She thought something maybe had happened to her son so I told her it had. There was no point in lying to her. She was going to find out anyway."

"She was a hardened criminal, Jack."

"Birds of a feather. We talked. She'd heard of me and knew who I was. She wanted to know the nature of my criminal activity so I told her. Then she wanted to know how to launder money so I told her about the foreign bank accounts. She thought she might try to launder money too."

"I see. You mentored her then." I smiled.

"I did. I couldn't just let the sniper shoot her. I had to try and protect her."

"Tell me about the sniper, Jack. Was he tall?"

"Very. I knew him because he'd kidnapped me when Mini went after Richard. You rescued me, remember? You and Willy did."

"I remember. He was one of Mini's black cats. Her A-team."

"I don't know his name because they wear those damn masks. But I knew his voice. There were others outside too because there was a lot of noise."

I lowered his bed. "Go back to sleep. You should have happier dreams now with the new drugs."

At the spying apartment the following morning I wrapped things up. The boys were going home to the flat they shared with Bob and Joe, two other new Canadians.

"We'll be back," Jackie said with resignation. "You'll be back spying on Weynolds. Weynolds is a big cwiminal. We'll all be back."

"I have the lease for another six years. There's a good chance of that."

Billy hung his head. "You need to get a new job, Amster. With no mice."

After driving the boys home I returned to meet with Reynolds as arranged through Willy.

Lugs greeted me at the door. "Reynolds is expecting you," he announced formally. "He will receive you in the living room. I believe you know the way."

At the bar, Taboo poured the drinks before bowing and hurrying away. Great. Scotch at ten a.m.

Reynolds raised his glass. "I know you know so let's not beat around the bush. You'll just have a hard time proving it."

"I doubt I'll try. Ting Zu killed your mother and you killed his. In some countries this is called justifiable homicide."

He nodded. "That's what I think. Revenge for my mother. She would expect it."

I raised my glass and we clinked. "To Mini!"

His eyes filled with tears. "I miss Mama Mia."

"Of course, you do. You were very close." I tried not to cough since Mama Mia was now with her favorite son.

"I don't know what I'll do now that Mama Mia is gone. She came to see me every day. No one else does. Willy comes sometimes."

"Speaking of Willy, he has a plan. I like it but he said to run it by you. His ten-bedroom mansion in Santa Ana hasn't sold and he thought we should all go there for a vacation. A month in the autumn, he thinks. We'll lie by the pool and order his servants around. His cooks too."

He shook his head. "I can't go. I never leave this place."

"We can drug you, Willy says. That's how your mom got you to Beijing. Between Willy and I we'll get you to Jack's private plane and from there to Santa Ana."

He cocked his head. "You and Willy are pretty good."

"The best."

"Who else will be there?" he asked suspiciously.

Big breath. "Well, we don't know for sure. Willy thinks you and I. And Jackie and Billy, his cousins."

Reynolds' mouth fell open. "I thought Willy only had one cousin."

Yes he did think that. And he thought they were the same person. "Willy has a dozen cousins but most are in Beijing. So, the kicker is, Willy thought he'd ask Richard too since you've mended fences and are on the same side now."

He screwed up his face. "Will King be coming?"

"I expect. He's bringing Tommy home tonight. Why do you ask?"

"I don't like King. He's a bully. When I worked for Richard he was always sharpening his knife with his thumb and pointing it at me."

"Well, get a knife and point it back."

He giggled. "I can do better. I just steal his money."

Before I left, Reynolds was talking about what Taboo should pack. If Richard could take Shorty and King along he could take Taboo.

I wondered if Taboo would be wearing a wig.

My next stop wasn't pleasant although I didn't have a pleasant profession. I parked my car in the driveway of 33 Terrace Place and followed the holly hedge next door where I leaned on the bell. The judge answered.

"What are you doing here!" he barked. He was wearing an undershirt beneath his flabby jowls. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Haven't you done enough?" I countered. "I mean, how many times have you tried to kill me, Judge Clark? First off, the hired gun that shot your own daughter instead of me. And then your crooked cop tried to Taser me to death. So, what have I done to you besides put you behind bars where you belong? Still do."

His mouth fell open. "Why you insolent little nobody! Who do you think you're dealing with?"

"I'm dealing with the lowest form of life. A pedophile. Your computers are being confiscated, by the way, although we already have the evidence. From your desktop and your laptop. You'll be going away for a long, long time."

Peter and company were pulling up in front of the house.

"You should run, Judge Clark. I'd actually like to see them pick you off."

He tried to close the door but I stuck in my foot. "Now is that any way to treat your neighbor's son?"

"You're not his real son," he hissed.

"Tell him that. I'd like to see you tell him that."

With that I left Peter to push in the door.

Back at the seedy bar on East Hasting Street I was biting my nails. I don't revel in seeing my former compatriots go down, even when a couple of them have tried to snuff me out. It's a game of games, for sure. The bartender helped. Red was back and wanting to forgive me for going off to Beijing and coming back wounded. I thought about it. Biker gave me the missing finger across the bar. I sent him over a double. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck before he even sat down.

"How you doing, son?"

"Not so good, Robo. Not so good."

"How's that?"

"I have to hurt someone tonight. Someone that used to be my friend. Someone I teamed up with on many occasions to uphold the law." I didn't look at him.

"That's too bad."

"It is. It's evolution, I guess. And greed. This guy was a cop. A good cop. But he got greedy over drugs and went crooked. He then tried to kill me. He got off but still he tried to kill me again by enlisting some other cops to shoot up my car. Would you happen to know this guy?"

From the corner of my eye I watched Robo sink into his big brown coat. "What are you getting at?"

"I getting at this. This same guy was heading up a pornography ring. Child pornography the very worst kind. This guy is a creep."

"You have proof?"

"All the proof we need. The cops have been in his computer and although they have a search warrant to take the physical evidence tonight they already have everything they need."

He shook his head. "Why didn't you leave things alone, son?"

"Don't call me son. But my question to you is this. Why didn't you leave me alone? Not to be colloquial but you dug your own grave."

Peter Selic was standing behind us. "Christ, Hampton! Am I ever going to get any sleep?"

I wondered that myself as I sat at Jack's bedside brooding. I had this huge empty space in my gut and it hurt. I couldn't even joke about the nurse who was reading and nodding off. I wanted to say, 'Hey jerk head. Your neck's going to hurt from that.' But I couldn't. Nothing was funny. My future was bleak. Kill. Find a killer. Confront a killer. Kill.

Jack opened his eyes. "Willy was here today. He said you guys are going back to California."

I nodded. "Yeah. We're going to have fun." Not.

"I invited myself. And Emily. Tony too. And, of course, Maya will come to boss the kitchen."

Great. "When can you travel?"

"In a couple of weeks. You guys will be there first, of course. But since I have a private plane the rest of us will catch up."

"The rest?"

"Well, Peter and Julia, of course. And Tommy. And we couldn't leave Jillian behind."

"Jillian hates me. Why would she want to come?"

"She's waiting for you at the house. I'll let her tell you herself."

Back at 33 Terrace Place, David in the alcove was flexing his muscle. And he was swaying back and forth trying to fall over and crush me. Tony steered me down the hallway to the library. "You're younger than David, Charlie. David was old when I came along. You could beat him up."

"Yeah, that's my reputation, alright. Beating up on old men."

Tony poured the whisky. "We need to have a talk. So I'm pouring you a big one. Take Jack's chair and pretend to be a grown up."

I took the drink from his hand. "I don't have time to grow up. I'm too busy."

"Don't give me that crap. You've been lying in bed all day."

"Is there a purpose to this talk because I'm really tired."

"I'm teasing, alright? Willy keeps me posted. We're really proud of you today. You had a lot on your plate."

I breathed a tentative sigh of relief. "Speaking of plates I hope Maya has leftovers in the kitchen. I haven't eaten today."

"We're all coming to California, you know."

"Jack told me. No problem. Willy said he bought a ten-bedroom house knowing this would happen. Not that he wanted it to. He wanted to be alone."

"Yeah, right. You and Willy are a team. You're like an old married couple. You argue. You bicker. But you can read each other's minds which likely keeps you both alive. But here's the thing, Charlie. We have a girl in this house who's really hurting. Hurting bad. You have to look after her."

"How? She doesn't want a thing to do with me."

"She's angry. And I know you have your differences but you need to meet somewhere in the middle. Can you not give her that?"

"I lead a dangerous life."

"And she knows it. And I'll bet she's willing to live with the risks. I mean, look at all the time she's done in jail rescuing trees and the planet and was willing to go back again and again for her cause. This is not a wimp."

I smiled. "This much I know. I've rescued her time and again."

"You love her, Charlie. And she loves you. What the fuck is the matter?"

Oops. The F word? I was really in trouble.

"I told her you wanted to see her. It's late but she reads late. So don't fuck this up."

I popped a bottle of champagne and poured a glass for Jillian. I poured myself a triple whisky.

Soon she came tripping in wearing her favorite fluffy pink bathrobe and slippers. "You wanted to see me?"

I motioned to the chair and champagne. "I thought we might talk. If you're not too mad at me."

She took Tony's chair and curled her feet up under her bum. "I'm over it. I was mad about Jack." She didn't touch the champagne.

"That's it? Just Jack?"

"Well. There's more. You know it all. I married a child who didn't want a child."

I laughed. "Why do we always start off like this? Can't we just start by saying something nice."

She glared at me. "Alright. Say something nice."

"I love you."

"Enough to stop sleeping around?"

"Stop it! I'm a single man. You don't want me so maybe someone else will. Ok? I'm human. Not that anyone's lining up. I only wish."

"You're promiscuous. You always have been."

"Right. I rarely have a minute to even think about sex I'm ashamed to say. So, I thought we were going to start off by my saying that I love you and you saying?"

"I'm pregnant."

# Epilogue

THE FOLLOWING MORNING WAS DIFFERENT in that I had two pleasant things to do before helping Willy load Reynolds on the plane. Reynolds had changed his mind about Taboo going along primarily because Taboo didn't want to go. And on second thought, Reynolds thought Taboo should mind the penthouse in his absence.

In the car Tina was saying, "Thanks for everything, Charlie. You're a nice guy."

"Sure. You would be the first one to ever say that. But it's been my pleasure. You're a swell kid."

"I'm not a kid. I'm a woman. And if you ever get over Jillian I'm yours." She giggled. "You're sure my mom wants me home?"

"Positive. She's baking your favorite carrot cake this morning. She's excited about your arrival."

"I'm not sorry my dad's back in jail, Charlie. He's a cruel man. My mom has had a tough life with him and so have I. Maybe now we can start to have fun." She gave me a kiss on the cheek before running up the walk to her home.

Next was a pit stop down the mountainside and I didn't even get out of the car. I just pulled to the curb on _Jefferson Street_ to watch Peter deliver Anthony home. There was a lot of hugging going on at the door.

Willy had arranged help with Reynolds upon their arrival in Santa Ana. Why? Knocked out cold it didn't much matter to Reynolds who carried him around. As for me, well, my guilt wouldn't let me leave Jack in a hospital room unsupervised. He tortured the nurses and doctors too, in which case they decided to let him out early. Bed rest, was the order, so Jack set up camp in the living room of 33 Terrace Place in a big reclining chair. And his first request?

"Make mine big, Hamster. And don't be so stingy this time."

"You're sure you're off pain killers?"

He winked at Tony. "Days ago. I can have all the whisky I want the doctor said."

We all coughed.

As I was pouring his poison, Tommy came along. It freaked me how much he was like Richard. The same chiseled features, the same hazel eyes sharp as a falcon, the same determination. "I'll have a water," he said. "And make mine big."

I stared him down. "Make your own big. I don't do water."

Flat out in his recliner, Jack took his whisky from the tray. "Can you believe it, Hamster? My grandson doesn't drink. I mean, he's legal age. I want to get his liver tested because I think he may be missing the Jones enzyme. He may even need testosterone shots."

Tommy threw up his hands. "Do you see, Charlie? Do you see what I put up with? Did they do that to you?"

Tony chuckled in his chair. "No. We actually liked Charlie. Charlie was a suck up."

I walked over and messed up what was left of Tony's grey hair. "Right. Suck up? I was tortured. The two of them ganged up on me, Tommy. No kid on earth was picked on more than me."

Jack grunted. "Hamster got even, Tommy. He got me shot more than once as you well know. And he'll get me shot again. It's called revenge."

I took the seat beside Tommy on a big white leather sofa. "So, I hear you're not going to grad school. What's that about?"

He made a face. "I have a degree. Why would I need two?"

"You have a job then?"

"Yup. My dad's going to hire me."

"Doing what?"

"Learning the ropes. I'll take over from him one day."

From the corner of my eye I saw Tony leaving the room. "It's a vile business, Tommy. I'm not sure you're cut out for it. I mean how are you at torture and murder?"

He didn't bat an eye. "I can learn."

Tony Chan returned carrying a huge butcher knife which he pointed at his great nephew. "So, you want to be a big crime boss, do you, Tommy? Piece of cake? Well, let me just say one thing. First you'll have to get past me."

Tommy stalked out of the room in a sulk.

Jack howled. "Don't run with that thing, Tony. You know I faint at the sight of blood."

Old home week. It didn't get better than that.

And I, Charles Hampton III, was going to be a dad. Wow! Baby steps, Jillian said. We weren't going to jump into things. I'd have to prove myself if I wanted to be in the baby's life. She was going to live at 33 Terrace Place because it was busy there and she didn't care to be alone while I was out killing. I got it. It would be a happy place for a baby with Julia and Maya clucking, Tony too. And, of course, Jack would be teasing because teasing was his hobby when he had nothing better to do. Also, if Tommy could stop thinking about assuming a life of crime he just might make a suitable mentor to a boy. Personally, I wanted a girl. I wanted her to be as beautiful as her mom and twice as stubborn.

So, we were all off to Santa Ana on vacation. The problem? I worried about new bodies bobbing in that damn well. Hopefully I wouldn't be one of them.
