Drawn in Blood (37 page)

“Go on,” Sloane prompted. “I don’t shock easily. And remember, I’m FBI, not your little Sloane.”

“Okay,” Matthew conceded. “One night in August, during a weekly poker game that involved way too much alcohol, we actual y set up a pool on how long it would take Wal ace to get Meili into bed. The idea was Ben’s, of course. He was always the clown—and the instigator. Look, we al acted like juvenile asses, and we knew it. It was just one of those stupid, throwback-to-col ege days.”

“Who won the pool?”

“Actual y, Ben did. He counted on Wal ace being gal ant. And he was right. Wal ace held off until November. The ironic part is that Meili didn’t want to go slowly. But Wal ace has that decent streak in him. He was so afraid of hurting her.”

“He obviously got over it.”

“Not without a huge surge of guilt,” Matthew assured Sloane. “Trust me, this wasn’t just a fling or even an affair. It lasted three years. And it was serious.
Too
serious.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that Wal ace’s marriage might not have been a priority, but his daughter was. He would never, ever have left Sophie. And Meili would never have left Hong Kong. So the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. But Wal ace couldn’t let it go. He bought Meili jewelry, expensive clothes, you name it. And he visited her every chance he could.”

“What happened?”

“Like I said, Wal ace’s decency always prevailed—which, in this case, backfired. During a playful moment when he and Meili were together, he stupidly told her about the bet.

He assumed she’d be amused. She wasn’t. What he considered to be a sil y game, she considered to be the ultimate betrayal and humiliation. I don’t know al the details. Nor did I ask. I only know that Wal ace was a wreck when he came home. He briefly told us that Meili had ended things between them, and why. Then, he went off like a wounded bear—cut himself off from everyone. He spent the week before the holidays holed up in his town house. He wouldn’t talk to a soul. The only reason he went home to East Hampton the fol owing week was for Sophie. He’d never let her spend a Christmas without him.”

Sloane was mental y calculating dates. “You said the affair lasted over three years, and ended before the holidays. So that was December 2005.”

“That’s right.”

“Did Wal ace say anything else, describe anything else, that you can remember? Anything about Meili’s background, her family, her life when they weren’t together?” Matthew frowned. “I remember him saying she didn’t like to talk about her past. I think she had some kind of major fal ing-out with her family, after which she severed al ties with them. She was a struggling artist when he met her, working in a bar. He put a stop to that right away, and helped get her a job as a hostess in an upscale restaurant while he tried to kick-start her art career. He said there was a fineness about her that smacked of good breeding.” A hint of a smile. “That’s old-money Wal ace for you. Always a keen eye for class. Anyway, other than that, al he talked about was the present.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

Sloane had al she needed—wel ,
almost
. Her father’s story dovetailed perfectly with Lucy’s. Wal ace was the rich, married man Meili had gotten involved with and, ultimately, committed suicide over. And the tragic aftermath of their relationship, which Wal ace probably knew nothing about, al stemmed from an idiotic bet about Meili’s virtue. There were pieces to the equation stil missing—like what the connection was between Meili and Cindy Liu—but those could be uncovered. As for Cindy’s sudden appearance in Wal ace’s life—

now
that
was no coincidence. Not with them being so physical y similar. But her father had met Meili. And she wanted a qualified opinion. A picture might be worth a thousand words. But there was nothing like the real thing to confirm the facts.

“Do you want to tel me what this is al about?” Matthew was asking.

“I can’t. Not yet. But I do need one more thing from you.” Sloane clamped a hand on her father’s arm and led him to the door. “I need you to take a quick look at someone and tel me what you see.”

“What I see?” Matthew looked utterly baffled.

“Don’t ask questions. Just wait til I tel you. Then, look.” Sloane eased the door open a crack and peered out, scanning the room. She spotted Wal ace and Cindy, talking quietly to each other. An instant later, Wal ace nodded, crossing over to get their coats, and leaving Cindy standing alone.

Sloane waited until Cindy was turned in their direction, her face visible from their angle.

“Now,” she directed, pointing at Cindy through the narrow slit in the doorway and urging her father’s focus onto her.

Matthew complied, and started in surprise. “That’s Meili. I don’t understand. When did she get here? Why didn’t Wal ace tel me that—”

“It’s not Meili,” Sloane interrupted. “It’s Cindy Liu. So you do see the resemblance?”

“A dead man could see the resemblance.” Matthew stared as Wal ace rejoined Cindy, a tender expression on his face. “Unbelievable.” Shutting the door, Matthew turned to Sloane. “What does al this mean?”

“As I said, I can’t supply the details. Not yet.” Sloane held her father’s gaze. “But, Dad, you can’t say anything about this to Wal ace. Don’t even mention our conversation. There are things I need to verify first.”

“How does this relate to Phil’s murder? Or to the Rothberg sale? Or to Xiao Long?”

“Let’s go back to Phil’s wake.” Sloane’s nonresponse was intentional. “Keep this discussion and what you just saw between us. I’l answer your questions as soon as I can.” A few minutes later, Sloane returned to the wake. She glanced around until she spotted Derek, who quickly disengaged himself from one of Phil’s sons, to whom he’d been expressing his condolences.

“I was beginning to think you’d slipped out the back door,” he muttered as he joined her.

“I’m sorry I vanished for so long,” Sloane replied. “But it was critical.”

“I saw Leo haul Ben out of here a while ago. He was docile as a lamb. I’m sure you had something to do with that.” Sloane shrugged. “I eased Ben back into reality as gently as I could.” Her gaze darted around, searching for Wal ace and Cindy.

“If you’re looking for Wal ace and his girlfriend, they just left,” Derek informed her. “I tried to go over and engage them in conversation. But she clearly wanted no part of chatting.

She avoided me like the plague. And she wasn’t too much better with everyone else. She expressed her condolences, stayed as long as Wal ace felt it was necessary, then urged him out the door. I’m sure she felt out of place. So do I. But I got the distinct impression it was me she was avoiding. Maybe she saw my gun and got nervous, or maybe I’m imagining things.”

“You’re not imagining things. If Wal ace told her you’re FBI, it’s possible she has reason to avoid you.” Derek’s brows drew together. “It sounds like you accomplished a lot more at this wake than just calming Ben down.”

“I did.” Sloane slipped her arm through Derek’s. “Let’s say our good-byes. You and I
really
have to talk.”

“Done.”

They were in the car ten minutes later, and then drove to an empty parking lot to talk in private.

“Let’s hear it.” Derek turned off the ignition and turned to face Sloane. “You look like you’re about to burst.”

“I am.” Sloane sucked in her breath, then began. “Wal ace’s girlfriend’s name is Cindy Liu. She’s an architect in Manhattan. I need you to run a background check on her.”

“Fine. Why?”

Sloane fished in her pocketbook and pul ed out the photo Lucy had given her. “This is Meili, the girl who sold the Rothberg to Daniel Zhang.” She pointed. “See any resemblance?”

Derek let out a low whistle. “Add a few years, and she and Cindy Liu could be twins.”

“Exactly. My father said pretty much the same thing after he got his first glimpse of Cindy a few minutes ago—and he’s met Meili. I’l tel you the whole story. But first, I have one question. Do you happen to know a rich, influential man in Hong Kong named Johnny Liu?”

The stunned expression on Derek’s face gave Sloane her answer.

“Johnny Liu’s been on our radar for years. But no one can get anything on him. To the world, he’s a successful businessman. In China, he’s a beloved philanthropist.”

“And to the Bureau?”

“He’s a kingpin in Asian organized crime. Both American and Chinese law enforcement suspect that Liu heads up the Liu Jian Triad. The triad has major il egal operations going on in Hong Kong and Macao.” Derek paused. “But Liu is a very common name, Sloane. So if you’re trying to link…”

“I’m not trying. It’s a fact. Assuming it’s the same Johnny Liu, he’s Cindy’s uncle. And if he is, the story I’m about to tel you could take us in a whole new direction.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

There was no doubt that Johnny Liu had members of the Hong Kong Police Department in his pocket.

It took Derek and Rich al weekend to dig up what they wanted to know. Fortunately, they had their own contacts—honest Hong Kong police who wanted to cooperate and who were wil ing to work hard to get at the truth.

When the truth was final y unearthed, it dropped the central piece of the puzzle into place.

Johnny Liu had fathered one child, a daughter.

Her name was Meili.

Meili had left home in August 1999, at seventeen years old. A death certificate for a Jane Doe matching Meili’s description did indeed exist, but it had been so deeply buried, it had been virtual y impossible to find in Rich and C-6’s first attempt. This time, with the right people at the other end researching, the death certificate was located in a pile of very old, very cold cases.

It was dated January 2006, cause of death unknown.

The dates matched up with Lucy’s story.

Liu had covered things up wel . But after additional digging, it was determined that it was he who had identified Meili’s body, and that the cause of death had been suicide. His daughter had slit her wrists and been found alone in a broken-down apartment with a note to her family—one that had mysteriously vanished after being confiscated by the police.

“Sloane’s right,” Derek announced to Rich, after they’d met to compare notes. “This changes everything.” He reached for his half-empty, lukewarm cup of coffee. He’d lost track of how many cups he’d consumed in the past forty-eight hours. “The pieces al have to be rearranged. Your case. My case. Motives. Victims. You name it.”

“My case
s
,” Rich corrected. “As for
Dead or Alive,
everything Daniel Zhang told us was true. But we’ve been headed in the wrong direction. Henry Fong’s involvement with the Rothberg began and ended with Meili. The
other
Rothberg, however, began with Burbank’s art investment group and ended with Meili getting screwed over, staying destitute, and turning to Johnson. So the key here is who Meili stole the paintings
from,
not who she sold them
to
.”

“Her father—Johnny Liu.”

“You got it. He’s the common denominator.”

“We also think he’s the Dragon Head of the Liu Jian Triad. So it’s Liu Xiao’s working for, not Fong. And he’s skyrocketing his way up the ladder. Liu probably sent him to the States right after Cai Wen’s murder. That got Xiao out of the country, and gave Liu the opportunity to expand his il egal operations to the U.S.”

“It al fits. Liu’s got a reputation of being a huge patron of the arts,” Rich added, rubbing the back of his neck to get out the kinks. “A generous benefactor to Chinese museums, donating artifacts and pieces of great cultural significance to landmark museums. He’s also an avid col ector. And he’s got more than enough capital to fund the Black Eagles, both international y and here in the U.S.”

“So he’s paying the Black Eagles to rip off valuable paintings for him. He’s probably keeping some of the works and sel ing the others, making a kil ing in the process. And he’s got Xiao Long running the show, at least here in the States. It’s a win-win. Liu adds to his fortune, and Xiao takes a giant step into the triad’s inner circle.” Derek blew out a frustrated breath. “You gotta give Liu credit. He’s smart. He does so much good and in such a public way that he’s a folk hero in the Far East, so legendary that law enforcement doesn’t dare touch him. Not to mention he’s buried every shred of evidence so deep, no one could find it anyway.”

“Cai Wen must have been Liu’s front man in the deal with Burbank’s art investment group,” Rich deduced. “That way, Liu could keep a low profile. Cai Wen would seal the deal and get a percentage. Xiao Long would pick up the painting and bring it to Liu. But Cai Wen got greedy. During the exchange, he tried to squeeze more money out of the deal. So Xiao kil ed him, grabbed the Rothberg and the money, and brought it al to Liu, who’d probably stil own the painting if Meili hadn’t taken off with it four years later.”

“Talk about getting into Liu’s good graces,” Derek muttered. “That was quite a gift from Xiao, not to mention a huge display of loyalty. It probably raised Xiao up about three rungs on the organizational ladder. Which is another reason for Liu to designate him the chosen one and to send him off to New York with the backing and resources to become the Dai Lo of the Red Dragons—and who knows what thereafter.”

Rich took another belt of coffee. “Now I understand why Xiao Long was so freaked out when the identical Rothbergs surfaced and I started tracing the provenance of the real deal. It wasn’t just himself he was protecting. It was Johnny Liu. Xiao knew there was a chance that Burbank, Fox, and Leary could identify him from Cai Wen’s murder scene. He had to get his hands on Burbank’s receipt for the Rothberg sale—
and
he had to scare Burbank and his partners off. He must suspect that C-6 has him and his gang on their radar screen.”

“Oh, he more than suspects. He’s been playing cat and mouse with us for months now. But you’re right. Between his high visibility here, and his involvement in the Rothberg—if the Bureau started connecting the right dots, it would lead them straight to Johnny Liu. And he was protecting his Dragon Head at al costs.” Rich’s brows drew together. “But the rest of it; Liu’s personal agenda…”

“Sloane was right about that,” Derek broke in. “Her father and his partners are al victims. Xiao’s the long-distance enforcer of Liu’s vendetta. Leary’s dead. Martino’s on the verge of bankruptcy. Burbank’s wife and daughter were both assaulted. Fox I’m not sure about, but I wil be after I gril him and find out what he was looking for in Sloane’s files. And Johnson…” Derek sucked in his breath. “Wal ace Johnson is the prime target. Having Cindy Liu work her way into his heart and then break it is only a smal facet of what her uncle would regard as an eye for an eye. God only knows what else Liu has in store for Johnson.”