White Ginger (24 page)

“Please, call me John.”

She nodded in acceptance of his offer. “Only if you'll call me Bai.”

John nodded and replied, “I was born and raised in Cleveland, Bai. My parents still live there.”

“Any brothers or sisters?” she asked.

“Just a sister. She's married and lives overseas with her husband, who's in the Air Force.”

“Are you carrying, John?” Lee asked casually.

“No, I didn't expect I'd have to kill my lunch.” He seemed amused by his little joke. “Besides, I already told you I don't have a concealed weapons permit.”

Lee appeared perplexed. “Would that really stop you from carrying?”

“I take the law seriously.” His demeanor was serious, his face a sober mask.

Lee looked aside at her and tilted his head. “I see a problem.”

She didn't take the bait, determined to ignore his sarcasm.

He smiled sweetly and turned back to Race. “You were an Eagle Scout, weren't you?”

“You make it sound dirty.” Race smiled, but his expression seemed forced.

“Have you always been a tight-ass?” Lee asked, grinning. “Not that I have a problem with a tight ass.” His smile broadened. “I'm just curious.”

Race's face darkened. She decided it was time to change the subject and intervene before he could respond to Lee's jibe. “Before you make a decision as to whether or not you'll accept a position with me, you need to be made aware of some things. The nature of that discussion requires a more private setting. Would you mind taking a ride with us after lunch?”

He turned to her with one eyebrow lifted. He appeared intrigued by her request. “It would be my pleasure.”

“So what happened at the school?” Lee asked.

The lines around Race's eyes grew tight. “Let's just say that my lack of fervor in covering Ketchum's ass was seen as a sign of disloyalty. He had my final check waiting for me at the end of the day.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Obviously, I won't be using him as a reference.”

Bai's cell phone rang. She reached into her jacket while excusing the interruption. The number displayed wasn't one she recognized. She accepted the call out of curiosity.

“Miss Jiang, this is Inspector Kelly.” His voice sounded muffled. “Listen, I don't have much time, but I wanted to call you before you heard it from someone else. The case against Romano's son has been dropped.”

The news stunned Bai.

“How can they get away with that?” she demanded in a hostile tone. “The incident was caught on camera. There's a recording of what happened.”

“The recording disappeared from evidence lockup. Nobody's willing to admit it ever existed. I tried to look into it and was warned off. I'd like to do more, but my hands are tied without some kind of evidence to back up the story. I'm sorry.”

She dropped her head a moment to let her temper cool. When she spoke, her voice was more tempered. “Does Romano have that much juice in this city?”

“I wouldn't think so,” said Kelly, sounding unsure. “I really don't know where this is coming from. I'm sorry I can't be more help, Miss Jiang. I'm taking a chance just calling you. I've been assigned to desk duty and I've had a hard time getting away to call. I'm being watched.”

“It's OK, Kelly. I understand. Thanks for trying.”

When the call ended, she was left wondering how deeply into city government Romano's influence reached. She looked across the table at her lunch companions, who'd only had the benefit of half the conversation.

“The recording given to Inspector Kelly has mysteriously disappeared.” Her mind raced with the implications. She looked at Race. “Ketchum doesn't know you burned me a copy of the fight, does he?”

“No, and he doesn't know I burned a copy for myself either.” He looked angry. “If you'd like, I can walk another copy downtown and deliver it for you.”

She was tempted to take him up on his offer but hesitated.

“No, I don't think it would do any good. They'd just make that disk disappear and then come after you to make sure no more copies were floating around. We have other, more pressing matters than John Romano and his jerk kid. When we're ready, we'll take on Romano. He's made it personal.”

She turned to make eye contact with the waiter. One sign of a good restaurant is the staff is only present when needed. Her subtle glance brought him immediately to the table. He handed her the bill that she paid with cash.

“Are we ready, gentlemen?”

Lee stood up first, followed by Race. Stepping out ahead of her, Lee walked swiftly to the front entrance. Race insisted she precede him and followed at a more leisurely pace.

“Why's Lee in such a hurry?” he asked.

“He's checking the front of the restaurant to make sure it's safe. Then he'll look under the car for explosives. He's protecting me.”

She glanced back at Race, who looked a little discomfited by her answer.

“You're new to this kind of work. But your training should serve you well. You just have to put yourself back into a patrol mindset. Just assume the enemy could be anyone.”

“Do you suspect everyone?”

She laughed. “The Chinese have a saying, ‘All people are your relatives, therefore expect only trouble from them.' Does that answer your question?”

“I think I get the gist of it.”

His eyes scanned back and forth to take in everyone within his line of sight. As she stepped through the door, she glanced back to see him with his back to her, protecting her. He was on patrol.

When they exited the restaurant, Lee had the car running. He climbed out of the driver's seat and got into the back as she walked around the car to drive. When Race got into the passenger side, she immediately put the car into gear and shot out onto Steuart Street, took a fast right on Mission, and headed up Embarcadero.

Race was pressed back into his seat by the rapid acceleration. He struggled to get his seat belt fastened with a surprised look on his face.

She talked while she speed-shifted gears. “Before you accept a position with me, you need to be made aware of a few things. First, you need to understand my father was triad, his father was triad, his father's father was triad, and so forth. I have triad associations, though I don't participate in triad business. Would those associations make it difficult for you to work for me?”

He turned in his seat to look at her as he clung to the suicide strap over the door with a startled look on his face. “So you're some kind of mafia princess or something?”

She smiled, thinking the comparison ludicrous but was amused by the idea. “Something like that.”

He hesitated before answering. “I look at it this way, Bai. We all have family, for better or worse. We deal with it. What your family does is none of my business. My business will be protecting you and Dan even if that means protecting you from your own family. It's all the same to me.”

“Then I would ask that anything you hear or see while in my employ remains confidential. I'm afraid that if you fail to keep your word in this matter, your indiscretion may prove fatal. Do you understand?”

“Are you threatening me, Bai?”

He seemed taken aback by her warning.

She briefly glanced his way and smiled. “Not me. But there are others who wouldn't hesitate to eliminate you, should you prove untrustworthy. I don't mean to scare you, but you need to think carefully before you accept the position.”

“I can keep a secret, Bai.”

She glanced back at Lee. He shrugged, leaving the decision up to her.

“Welcome aboard, John,” she announced. “We're going back to Chinatown for an appointment with my lawyers if you'd like to join us.”

“What's the appointment about?” Race asked.

“I'm not entirely sure. My lawyer requested we meet as soon as possible. While we're there, I have questions of my own. The attempt made on my life produced some clues as to where the contract might have originated. I need to speak with them about that.”

“Are they involved?” he asked.

“I hope not, for their sake.”

She was certain that if they were involved, Jason would make short work of them.

 

Robert Hung waited for them in the reception area of his law offices. A tall, thin man with a gaunt face, he appeared immaculately dressed in a three-piece suit. His thinning hair was parted with laser-like precision to lay flat against his scalp.

He ran forward to clasp Bai's hands when she walked through the door. “I'm so glad you're here!”

As John Race stepped through the door behind her, Robert did a double take, his head turning from Bai to Race. “Who are you?”

Bai vouched for Race. “He's with me.”

Robert turned to her. He looked confused, his eyebrows drew up, and his mouth fell into a disapproving scowl. “Are you sure that's wise, Bai?”

Robert eyed Race suspiciously: he was white and therefore suspect. She was all too familiar with the reaction, a reminder that racism wasn't the purview of whites alone. She reached out to grab his chin and turn his head to face her. “What's going on, Robert? This isn't like you.”

He had a hard time meeting her gaze and backed away a step. “Right, then,” he said, pulling at the lapels of his suit jacket to straighten them as he produced a tepid smile. “I think it might be best to have this conversation in the conference room. We'll have more privacy there.”

He executed an about-face to march through the small lobby and down the hall, his back ramrod straight. His arms swung stiffly at his sides as if he were leading a parade.

Lee turned to Bai to mouth a silent “What the fuck?” before preceding her down the hall.

She turned to look at Race and tilted her head in the direction of the conference room. “Shall we?”

“Can it get any stranger?” he asked, as he walked with her down the hall.

She assumed the question was rhetorical. Inwardly, she wondered the same thing.

Robert waited in the conference room. He was seated at the oval table, his hands folded before him on the tabletop. His eyes were cast down.

“Where's Benny?” Bai asked.

Benjamin Chin, Robert's partner, was a round, unkempt man who habitually wore rumpled white shirts and dark slacks. He looked more like a bartender than an attorney and was as gregarious as Robert was reserved, making them an odd couple. But they'd been best friends since grade school. The relationship seemed to work for them.

“That's just it, Bai. I don't know where he is.” Robert's face fell into his hands. He took a deep breath before pulling them away. “It gets worse,” he added sorrowfully. “There's more than five million dollars missing from your accounts.”

The room was silent as they all felt the impact of the statement.

“Well, that sucks,” Bai pronounced in a massive understatement of her true feelings. “Grandfather always said, ‘Gold is tested by fire, man by gold.' Just as a matter of curiosity,” she asked, “how much more than five million?”

He threw up his hands. “Five million and one dollars—to be exact.”

Lee walked over to perch on the edge of the table near Robert. He sat close enough to make Robert draw back and look up at him. “When was the last time you saw or heard from Benny?”

“I saw him three nights ago when we left the office around six. He was fine. He said he was working on something and he'd tell me all about it the next day. When I got into the office the following morning, he'd left a voice message on my phone saying he had some really good news to share and he'd be a little late. He never showed up.”

“Have you reported him missing?” she asked.

“I filed a missing person's report yesterday morning. The police made me wait forty-eight hours before they'd officially consider him missing. I knew something was wrong almost immediately. We had a lunch date at Yank Sing, you see, and he loves dim sum. He wouldn't miss lunch unless something was really, really wrong.” He paused to look at Bai beseechingly. “I can't believe he would steal the money and run away. That just isn't Benny.”

Bai dropped into a chair and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes to think.

When she opened her eyes, everyone looked at her expectantly. “Let's go with the assumption he didn't steal the money.” She looked around to see if anyone objected to her line of reasoning. “I can't believe he would steal from me. We've known each other since grade school.” Her gaze was met with silent stares. She continued. “So, assuming he didn't steal the money, what use would he have for ‘five million and one' dollars?”

“He liked to gamble,” Lee interjected, not ready to sign off on Benny's innocence.

Robert rushed to Benny's defense. “He liked to gamble, but he wasn't compulsive. He bet on mah-jongg for heaven's sakes. He didn't play the ponies.”