Читать книгу Angel in the Full Moon - Don Easton - Страница 12

The next day Jack identified the three Asians from the party and did background research on them while Laura looked into the backgrounds of the two men they referred to as Mister Porsche and Mister Jaguar.

Jack discovered that the three Asians were Vietnamese brothers who were the owners of two massage parlours. One massage parlour was called The Asian Touch and was one-third owned by each of the brothers. Their given names were c, Hu, and Tho. Their family name was Trn. c was also the sole owner of the Orient Pleasure, the establishment to which the Russians’ cellphone was registered.

Hu and Tho did not have criminal records, but Jack learned that the Combined Forces Special Enforcement Unit had encountered one of the brothers on an investigation two years previous.

Jack told Laura the information and she groaned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’ll never keep these guys straight,” she said.

“I think the important one to remember is c,” said Jack. “He owns part of what his brothers have, plus the Orient Pleasure, where the Russians’ phone is registered. He’s also the one with a criminal record.”

“So it’s c and his brothers.”

“For now. Incidentally, if you ever read or hear their names someplace, the Vietnamese put their family name first, followed by their middle name, and then their given name. Formally, they address each other by their given name. I would be known as Taggart, Bruce Jack, and if formally addressed, would be called Mister Jack.”

“Okay, Mister Jack, so neither of the two brothers have any criminal history?”

“No convictions, but Tho was the owner of a couple of rental properties where the Vietnamese tenants had grow-ops. They were taken down two years ago by CFSEU.”

“Doesn’t take these guys long to learn about B.C. bud,” said Laura.

“How are you making out with Mister Porsche and Mister Jaguar?” asked Jack.

“They are both well known,” replied Laura. “No convictions, but I just got off the phone with Drugs. Mister Porsche beat an importation charge a few years ago when he tried to smuggle a boatload of hash into B.C. He beat the rap in court by claiming that the dope was on its way to Alaska and that a storm blew them into Canadian waters. The judge said there was no intent to commit a crime in Canada. Mister Jaguar is a major cocaine dealer but has never been caught.”

“Jag and Porsche work together?”

Laura shook her head. “Not as far as any records show. They appear to be independent of each other.”

“Our Russians are the common denominator,” declared Jack.

“I’ve also checked for criminal records on the rest of the partygoers,” said Laura. “Lots with criminal records, but all minor stuff. Low-level drug dealers, that type of thing.”

“I think our Russians were just throwing their version of an office party,” said Jack. “I doubt that any of these people are really their friends.”

“So where do you want to go from here?”

“For now, concentrate our time on the Russians. If we lose them, then we’ll work on c as a backup.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’m going to give VPD a call and see what they have on these guys. The Asian Touch is in their turf.”

Jack’s phone call to the Vancouver City Police soon found him transferred around where he ended up speaking to Detective Rocco Pasquali of the Anti-Gang Unit.

Jack had met Pasquali on past investigations and knew him as a good cop who was not afraid to work. More importantly, he didn’t let inter-agency rivalry affect his work. All he wanted was for bad guys to go to jail.

“The Trn brothers are well known to us,” said Pasquali. “Guess I don’t need to tell you that the massage parlours are just a front for prostitution, but there’s a lot more to him than that. c expanded his operation out to Surrey last year.”

“The Orient Delight,” said Jack.

“You got it. Physically, he’s a small man. A good fart would probably knock him over, but he’s got the power. He heads a Vietnamese gang of at least fifty. They’re into just about everything. Extortion, robberies, drugs, juvenile prostitution ... you name it. They’re extremely violent. Not afraid to take a machete to someone just for making eye contact with them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Lately, the asshole has insulated himself enough as to be basically untouchable. His top lieutenant is a guy by the name of Giang. A real psychopath. I mean that. He deals coke at the pound level. He came to Canada when he was seven. I really think the Vietnam War did something to him before he came over. He really is one disturbed individual.”

“So Giang gets his coke from c?”

“No, Giang freelances that on his own. c uses him more as an enforcer and to keep his girls in line. The two don’t hang together as friends. Giang uses a place called Lucky Lucy’s Bar and Grill as his base of operations. That’s downtown here in Vancouver, on Kingsway, close to The Asian Touch.”

“Any other hangouts?” asked Jack.

“There is also a restaurant close to Lucky Lucy’s called the Mekong Palace. The owner of the Mekong is a nice old guy. Doesn’t want these guys in there but doesn’t have much choice. If Giang is not at any of these places, he usually can be found hanging out with the other punks in c’s gang at Billiard Bill’s out in Surrey. That place is just a block down the street from the Orient Pleasure.”

“I really appreciate this, Rocco.”

“No sweat. I’ll send a copy of everything we have on this group over to you. You need a hand with anything—surveillance, takedowns, you name it—give me a call. Day or night, doesn’t matter.”

“Sounds like you want him bad,” said Jack.

“I do. c’s gang ... half of it is composed of juveniles, for Christ’s sake.”

“Their conscience isn’t as developed. They don’t think of the real consequences of their actions. Explains the extreme violence.”

“Yeah, and they’re more easily influenced and brainwashed ... and usually get probation. You catch c and there’s a bottle of tequila in it for you.”

“Thanks. Actually I’ve switched to gin martinis.”

“Catch him,” said Rocco, “and I’ll be buying the gin.”

“No reward for Giang?” asked Jack.

Rocco chuckled and said, “What are you trying to do, bleed me dry? Giang’s not real smart. He’s been caught before. Unfortunately he’s smart enough not to cross c.”

“Tell you what,” said Jack. “When I nail c, you buy the gin and I’ll bring the vermouth. If I happen to nail Giang along the way, then you can bring the olives, too.”

“That’s a deal!”

The next week and a half went by quickly for Jack and Laura. They focused their energy by doing surveillance of the Russians while doing intermittent surveillance on c.

c had a routine of sleeping in late and then going to the Orient Pleasure for an hour over lunch. He would generally spend the rest of his day and evening at the Great Canadian Casino in Coquitlam. His skill as a gambler left much to be desired.

Surveillance of the Russians showed that they varied their sleep patterns. Sometimes they would appear early in the morning and go to a restaurant for breakfast. On these occasions, Jack surmised that they had not been to bed yet, or, at least judging by the escorts that left the building moments before they appeared, they had not been to sleep yet.

Other times the Russians would not appear until early afternoon, when they would go and drink espresso in different restaurants. At night, they would throw their money around at various nightclubs or go to more expensive restaurants. If they didn’t pick up any women at the nightclubs, they would often call an escort service when they returned to their penthouse.

Hng lay on her side on the foam mattress, staring at the calendar. Pops never shut the light off and she found herself switching her attention back and forth between the calendar and the chain and shackle at the opposite end of the room.

Now she felt so weak that she could barely move. Going by the large X marks that Pops penciled on the calendar each day, she had been there thirteen days. She had been given a plastic cup to drink water from out of the toilet tank. The only food she had been given was one loaf of white bread.

Her fingers had quit throbbing, but any attempt to move them brought immediate pain. The same went for her ribs and she had learned to take shallow breaths.

On the first night she was chained, Pops had returned and flung all her clothes and belongings at her. The room had a high humidity and at first when she wore her new coat she was too warm, but now she felt weak and shivered constantly.

Pops would see her for a few minutes each morning and again at night. Except for hurting her the first night, he had not actually touched her.

One night he dragged a garden hose through the passageway and said he was going to give her a shower. Despite the incredible shame she felt at undressing in front of him, her fear made her obey and she squatted obediently on the floor and tried to cover herself with her hands.

“You are a filthy, worthless little child,” he said. “No wonder your father gave you away,” he said as he urinated on her, before taking the hose and spraying cold water into her face.

Every time Hng heard the familiar creak of the passage door, she automatically cringed and drew her knees up into the fetal position as she waited for Pops to enter, mark the X on the calendar, and announce how many days were left until “red-circle day.”

Tonight was different. Pops shoved a large cardboard box ahead of him through the passageway opening and set it down out of Hng’s reach. The box was big enough that it could have held an object the size of a kitchen chair.

“There are special things in here for you,” said Pops. He marked another X on the calendar and said, “Things for red-circle days. As you can see, the first such day is tomorrow.”

Hng didn’t respond, but just stared at him from where she lay.

“What do you think is in the box?” asked Pops.

Hng continued to stare.

Pops tone turned to anger and he said, “Well, you’ve got twenty-four hours to think about it!”

Hng closed her eyes and, a moment later, she heard the creak of the door as Pops left her alone. She immediately got to her feet and got as close to the box as her chain would permit, but she was too far away to see inside it. She went back to her mattress, sat, and stared at the box.

What does it mean? She looked at the calendar again. Four more weeks and Linh will be here ... and I told her to come!

Hng cried in anguish. Eventually she caught her breath between sobs and looked at the calendar. Tomorrow is the first red-circle day. There are more circles later. What do they mean?