Flower Girl: A Burton Family Mystery (19 page)

BOOK: Flower Girl: A Burton Family Mystery
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31 May was Liberation Day,  at 5am I cracked open my soft boiled egg, then start up on my walnut muffins, and a pot of French pressed Kenya AA. Reddy downed his usual bowl of oatmeal and sliced banana and poured a second cup of Kenya AA when the house phone rang.

"Godfather Hamish," I said as I picked up the phone.

"Please do not tell me my goddaughter is a psychic," Hamish replied. "I've got some details on the Zubaida case. Is Reddy there?"

"Your name appears on the screen when you call. I have you under my contacts as Godfather," I said with a laugh. "I thought you were more hi-tech. I'll put you on speaker."

Hamish was again the one who provided a vital clue. He informed Reddy, "I have some more info on that recent arrival of two girls at the Parks' Home for Girls on Cheju-do Island. One is likely an Arab girl close to three years old. I'm sending you a photo taken by my investigator yesterday."

What of the second girl? We assumed that she was old enough at five to remember her real parents; however, if she were another still-born case from the Parks' Singapore Clinic, then we would still have to do some serious investigating. Worst case scenario, no one was looking for her, at least not to our knowledge. Reddy said, "I need to alter my plan to include two girls. It may make it easier if Zinni's daughter has a friend along for the rescue and flight."

By 6:30am I was back on Udo Crater on a grassy knoll where Reddy and I had previously determined that the winds were least likely to alter the trajectory of my shot. I set up my blind near a line of trees that rustled when the wind either increased in velocity or changed direction, sort of an early warning system. I was careful not to set up in the same spot we had practiced from before. I checked the satellite video on the laptop, and the picture clearly showed the exact spot where I was lying beneath the camouflage. I could not see myself. I knew I could trust my skills; I was getting better at six direction recon.

Meanwhile, Reddy had departed for the shoreline where he had stashed the Zodiac. We stayed in touch over our walkie-talkies as the time grew near to enact our two part plan.

I scanned the beach on the west edge of the compound to locate Reddy in the Zodiac, then turned my attention to the parking area where Junior would soon arrive at the front of the compound. The first thing I noticed was the black motorcycle with the red dragon on its bumper parked in the corner of the parking area.

Reddy landed the fifteen-foot Zodiac rubber boat as the sun rose. This tactic made it hard for me to see him except for flashes of sunlight bouncing off the Zodiac as it bounced toward the shore line of the compound. He had painted the Zodiac to look like one of the Park's fleet of Zodiacs that went back and forth to the Texas Tower regularly. Reddy approached the compound from its beach side, facing the Sea of Japan. I watched his progress through the scope. I also noticed some strange gunships heading in his direction before they were run off by South Korean gunboats that had been patrolling the area since the North Koreans recently started posturing and testing missiles. His decision to use the Zodiac was almost a disaster.

"This compound is one damn secure place. They've beefed up their firepower and security since I broke you out of here fourteen years ago. Can you still see that guy walking the guard dog near the corner on the seaside of the compound?" Reddy asked.

I clicked the mike button on my walkie-talkie and said softly, "Reddy, that's the same dude who has been stalking us on the black motorcycle all through our tour and stay in Seoul."

Reddy double clicked back.

"I thought he looked familiar. He must have got the dog out of the security shed. He has a submachine gun and he's slinging it as if he just might know how to use it," I replied. "I had lots of practice using the sniper rifle scope as a telescope during our summers at Skeleton Lake,"

I found myself pointing and absentmindedly starting to hand Reddy the scope. However, he wasn't with me on the mountain; he was at the compound. Then I told him, "There's someone inside that shed with the smoke coming from it, near the seaside entrance."

I glanced at Letia's blueprint which had provided us with the final piece in our plan. I laid it out on the ground in the blind and soon discovered that the hut was both a guard shack and a communications center for the compound. The roof of the hut had five dish antennas and two pole antennas. A notation on the blueprint indicated that the shed was once a crematory for a mortuary.

"Make that two," Reddy said, "and they're both packing mini Uzis."

"I still can't see you. I assume that's good," I said.

"We need to go silent for the rest of the mission," Reddy said. "See you back at my pad." I double clicked my mike in acknowledgement.

I watched the compound for what seemed to be an eternity. It was long enough to see a white mini-van, with Parks' Clinics stenciled on the sides, enter the front gates which opened electronically. While peering through the steel bars, with the aid of the rifle scope, I saw two young girls wearing yellow smocks bound out of the van and run into the dormitory. They looked to be around three to five years old and the smaller girl had long black hair braided into a waist length ponytail, but I could only see a profile of her face. The other was a plump brown-haired girl, maybe Eurasian. I took some pics with my digital camera and 2,000X telephoto lens. Hamish's intelligence was right on. This was the girl in the photo he sent this morning.

Now here I was, alone on a volcanic mountain thousands of miles from Berkeley. I had been trained by the best, and I was as good a shot as he was. "Trust your skills," a father's advice, echoed in my head as I watched Reddy carry out the first step, approaching the compound in the Zodiac. Was this what "like father, like daughter" really means?

While Reddy handled the rescue, I positioned myself to provide the distraction. I set up the sniper rifle and laptop and settled into the prone position, nestling invisibly in the deep grass. I took several sightings, made an adjustment to the rifle sights, and waited for the arrival of my target in the Benz limousine.

Reddy told me later that before he could tie the Zodiac down, he was staring at the orange, pink, and red sunlight reflected off two steady golden brown eyes. "I felt like I was in someone's gun sight, not a feeling a sniper likes." Reddy started to unclip his gun which was already loaded with a dart full of tranquilizer. He said he was talking to the guard while watching the dog, careful not to make any sudden moves. A voice spoke from behind the rocks on the shoreline saying, "No need for that gun. He won't attack except on my command." The guard gestured for Reddy to move in the direction of the girls' dormitory. Then he and the dog continued their rounds.

Meanwhile, I had to concentrate on the business at hand. I didn't have long to wait to do my part in this rescue, creating a distraction at the front gate at precisely 6:14am. The alarm on my wrist watch vibrated. It was 6am and simultaneously my smartphone rang with Paladin's tune.

I was already positioned on  the mountain on the west side of the volcanic crater overlooking the compound and Reddy was carrying the two girls, one under each arm, heading for the Zodiac, on the shore from the Park's compound.

Hamish said, "Dr. Evel Park Jr. left his mansion on the south side of Namsan Mountain near Seoul. His charter jet took off at 4:46 and is expected to arrive at Jeju airport at 5:43. He should be arriving at the compound in thirty minutes. He's wearing a white suit and white shoes and riding in the back seat alone."

The limo arrived at the Clinic at 6:13am and drove up the semi-circular drive to the front entrance. The chauffeur drove into the parking area, stopped, came around the Benz and opened the right rear door. A head appeared on the top of a wide set of shoulders dressed in white. Instantly the head dropped, abruptly jerked to the front of the Benz and almost simultaneously to the left, depositing an inert and very dead Dr. Park Junior back into the Benz's rear seat. The compound guards swarmed the front gate and pandemonium spread. Before the chauffeur could react, the perpetrator of this kill was packing up and driving her motorbike back to Halla-san and Reddy's house.

I double clicked my mike, the signal for Reddy to start his extraction. He double clicked back and quickly moved to the point on the shore where the chain link fence topped with rolls of razor wire met the water. The fence was electrified, likely to several meters out to sea, so he waded out, carrying his gear over his head, and came back onto the beach sand on the opposite side of the wire, then he made a dash for the corner of the girls dormitory. There, he quickly found Zinni's daughter who was only three years old and terrified. There was also a second girl, age about five, and she was also screaming and calling for the compound guards. Reddy had to carry the two of them kicking and screaming from the dormitory to the Zodiac.

I arrived back at Reddy's place on Halla-san Mountain from my first assassin job with the feeling that someone had shadowed me the entire time. When I confronted Reddy, he just laughed and said, "I'm sure you checked for spies in the sky. You're developing a healthy sense of paranoia. That's going to keep you alive. Besides, I was at the Park's Compound. Can't be two places at once, can I?" Reddy said. "It's as if a phantom was following you or a good fairy." Reddy grinned ever so slightly. I should have caught the hint.

I forwarded the pics I had taken of Reddy carrying the two girls to Hamish. I clicked on the PhotoChange software. Staring at me with sad brown eyes was the face of an Arab girl who bore a striking resemblance to Princess Zubaida even at her tender age of three. Hamish sent the pics to Princess Zubaida for verification. Most importantly, the little girl had a genetic characteristic that definitely identified her as a member of Zubaida's family. A small rose shaped birthmark on her upper lip was the same as the birthmark in the pics of Zubaida and Zinni, an amazing family resemblance. Short of a DNA sample, this was the best evidence we were going to get that we had found her granddaughter alive.

Having completed my first assignment, I was expecting a reaction. Grief, sorrow, satisfaction, a diminished sense of anger, and revenge were all possibilities. I never asked and never received any praise from Reddy for an assignment well done. Frankly, I got all the gratification I needed from performing a challenging task with skill. However, I felt none of these. The killing element did not bother me and that bothered me. I was merely relieved that the assignment was over. Hell, I thought, I was more like my father than I ever imagined. I really needed to have a face-to-face session with Matte.

We hoped to further deflect suspicion just in case someone who knew the Pilatus PC12 belonged to Reddy and might report having seen it take off soon after events at the Parks' Home for Girls. The fact that neither Reddy nor I were on the airplane and that we were seen doing tourist stuff around the island was a good cover. Also, police were not checking incoming flights. Rhyly had taken the initiative to make a short test flight in the PC12 the day before the rescue to further make her departure flight inconspicuous. Clever girl.

Meanwhile, we monitored the radio frequency for Jeju Tower. Reddy asked me, "Any updates from Rhyly?"

That evening, as the sun set, "Jeju Tower, this is Pilatus PC12 returning from Hokkaido, requesting permission to land on runway 09."

"PC12, Jeju Tower here, what is your present position?"

"Jeju Tower, PC12, I am fifteen miles southeast."

"PC12. Squawk 55 for identification."

“PC12 squawking 55."

"Roger, PC 12, I have you on radar. Please reduce your altitude to 1500 feet and change heading to 270. Winds are NW at 12 knots. Report on touchdown on runway 09 for hangar assignment."

"PC12, Kamsamnida Tower, click click."

Reddy and I had waited impatiently all day for this exchange. I smiled and said, "How's that for an update."

Reddy and I waited twenty-four hours for Princess Zubaida's granddaughter to be safely back in Bahrain where the Princess kept a well guarded private estate. Her call came early the next day. "I will be brief," she said. "The three year old girl is most definitely Zinni's daughter. We knew the second we laid eyes on her, but a DNA test has confirmed this. Do you have any recommendations regarding the five year old? We will care for her until we hear from you."

"The second half-payment has already been deposited to a numbered Swiss Bank account," I told Reddy as I checked the records for the Zubaida case. There was actually a cash credit to our BFB account. I was in charge of bookkeeping and I could check to see at least where the deposit came from. But this would violate Rule Number 3 - Trust, family trust.

Paladin's call to arms was playing on my smart phone and the screen caller read "Angie." "Damn!" I muttered aloud, "I forgot to turn my smart phone off, a rookie mistake." I quickly texted back, "Busy, c u b, S."  I was running short of adrenaline after yesterday's actions and not in the mood for girlfriend chatter.

 

 
Chapter 10: A Visit to Anne's Grave (2 June 2014) 

On the morning of the second of June, BBC news broadcast the following headline: 
Seoul, South Korea - Park family member assassinated- The Parks' Women's Clinics suffered a break-in and the assassination of Dr. Evel Park, Junior, the oldest son and successor of the late Dr. Evel Park, Senior - details to follow.

For the first time in years, when I heard of an assassination, I wasn't suspecting that Reddy did it. Then, I thought, how would I tell Dr. Matte about all this? Reddy interrupted my thoughts with a surprise. "Let's make one last stop on our tour before we return stateside. We'll take the motorbike over to Udo Island and visit your mother's grave."

I nodded, unable to find an answer in words that wouldn't come out in shaky tones like 'oh yesss, puleeese'.

June 2nd, 2014- Cheju-do Island. Anne and Shannon died 2 June 1986, and Reddy had bought a few acres on Halla-san Mountain near where he and Anne had honeymooned two years before her death. He also purchased a small plot of land and buried their urns between two old trees that overlooked the sea on nearby Udo Island.

"I bought this land from a friend," Reddy told me as we began our walk up a hill. "I trained an ROK marine sniper whose mother was from Cheju-do, a haenyeo, and we became friends. Now he works for Hamish. He is the one who introduced us. His name is D.Y. Kim; he's from a rival clan to the Parks. We call him Phantom. His ancestors owned this land on which I built my home on Halla-san and the plot on Udo Island."

"Phantom!" I replied. Putting two and two together and getting five. I added, "Someday I would like to thank the Phantom for being my good fairy," I replied. "Or, should I be thanking the matriarch of his family here on Cheju-do? Was he the stalker on the black motorcycle?" I asked.

Reddy said, "Talk to Hamish."

This is the twenty-seventh time Reddy has made this trek up the side of Udo crater, and the previous twenty-six were made alone to this solitary wind-swept site. It was as if I were living the very dream I had experienced for all these years. It wasn't my first visit to Udo crater; however, it was my first visit to Anne's grave.

We climbed up the west side of the volcanic crater on Udo Island together. The trail cut like a knife wound into the cliffside. At its end, we gazed out over the blue-green waters of the Sea of Japan as the fog lifted to a sky of pink and purple. Two gnarly trees, that looked as if they had withstood centuries of storms and winds, stood bent in testimony to how strong those winds had been these many years. At the base of the trees Reddy stopped and brushed away the twigs and leaves from around two granite markers that stood side by side.

An inscription written in Hangul characters and English on one stone read, "Anne Burton [1965-1986] Beloved wife of Richard Francis and mother of Shannon [1986], ‘A life of promise unfulfilled.'" The inscription on the second stone read, "Shannon Lee Burton [1986], 'A life never lived.'" We placed the flowers each of us has carried up the hill in a single vase between the two stones. He whispered so softly I could barely hear, "Damn, I miss you." It was the first and only time I have seen Reddy cry.

My father had repeated this ritual alone every second day of June, and the grief was as real this day as ever, except that now it was mixed with tears of joy. As we both stood there trembling, tears flowing freely, we hugged. Suddenly it felt like a warm blanket enveloped the two of us. Reddy smiled back, a tender smile I had never seen before.

I couldn't resist any longer, so I asked, "Why is her name written in Hangul? Isn't the character for her last name the Hangul for Kim?"

"Yes, Anne was born in Gyeorgju as was her mother, in fact, her roots go all the way back to the Silla Dynasty. Her father was a ROK special forces soldier killed in the Viet-Nam War."

Our tour from the haenyeo women divers of Cheju-do to the Emille Bell and the grave mounds of Gyeorgju and the star gazing tower built by Queen Seondeok immediately took on new meaning. My heritage was rich and full of women's contributions to the history and development of the peninsula.

My perceptions and my emotional attachment to the man-in-black changed abruptly at that moment of disclosure. He had planned this tour carefully to provide me with a sense of my heritage. Damn, that's what I suspect a real father would do.

Before I let Reddy off the hook I still had many important questions bottled up inside me; nevertheless a single seemingly insignificant one came out.

"How did you get Anne's ashes from the Parks' Seoul Clinic and whose ashes are in the urn in my grave?"

"Should we take up the second stone?" Reddy asked. "I've wondered since I rescued you who or what is in your urn."

"I'll need a grave someday. This is as beautiful a place as any and it's next to my mother. Let's leave it. I don't really want to see what's in my urn," I said.

"Who cares what's in the urn. It's not you," Reddy replied. "I was told by local authorities that Anne's remains and yours were cremated. Anne was Catholic and I knew she would want her ashes and yours buried. I borrowed the two urns from a mortuary close to the Parks' Seoul Clinic, piece of cake."

"How did you come to select this spot for mother's and my graves?"

Reddy replied, "I have kept a secret all these years that I can now reveal. Let me begin by telling you the Korean legend of a geomancer and his three sons who lived long ago, a legend that influenced me about when and how to bring you to this location.

The legend states that people came from all around to consult the geomancer about correct positioning and direction of graves. It was thought that if mistakes were made, dire calamities would befall the families of the dead.

The geomancer never spoke of his own grave. At seventy, he had not taught his art to his sons. However, his sons often asked him where he wished to be buried. He replied that someday he would disclose this. As he aged, his sons asked again and he replied: ‘I cannot disclose the secret of my grave with my own lips. When I die go and ask Kim and he will tell you.'

Soon he died and the sons went to Kim to ask for instructions about where to bury their father. Kim said he would tell them, but the task would be very hard. The sons answered that they were willing to undertake any adventure no matter how dangerous. Kim whispered, ‘If you inter your father in the place he has suggested, then the very next day the eldest son will die. One hundred days later the second son will die, and after a year the third son will die. That is your fate and that is why I have been hesitant to tell you.'

Kim continued, ‘There is another secret. After your three young deaths, it is foretold that three ministers will arise in your family.'

The sons responded that it did not matter what happened to them, that they must do as their father wished. So they buried their father in the grave as indicated and the next day the eldest son died. The two remaining sons knew their lives were limited. A hundred days later the second son died and was buried. The youngest son then told his mother that his day was coming, but that he could not sit idly by. ‘I shall undertake a journey and if I do not return before the anniversary of father's death, you may assume that I too am dead.'

The youngest son journeyed along a mountain road and one night he sought a place to pass the night. Tired and hungry he at last saw a house with a light. He knocked and a kindly old woman let him in and gave him food and shelter. Soon the old woman said that she must leave to visit a girl she was fond of in the next village. The girl was soon to be married, an arranged marriage against her will, so the old woman wanted to see her one more time.

The girl also wanted to meet one last time with the old lady so she left her home after dark and the two women passed in the night without seeing each other. She arrived at the old woman's house and went inside where the youngest son was sleeping. He awoke and soon they spoke and became friends as they shared their stories. He spoke of the fate of his brothers and soon himself; she told of her unwanted marriage. Soon they fell in love.

The next morning the young man was dead as was foretold. Deeply saddened, the girl took his body back to his mother. When she told her tale to the mother and the brothers' widows, they acknowledged her as the youngest son's wife. As time passed, she became the mother of a son, then a second son, and a third. The three boys grew up and became successful as the prophecy foretold.

 I asked Reddy, "Did you use a geomancer when you buried Anne and my ashes?"

Reddy replied, "Have you been having dreams about a grave site?"

I replied, "Yes, for most of my life I have had a recurring dream of a man climbing a mountain to visit two graves."

"Hamish introduced me to an ancient looking man with a grey and white beard that hung down to his knees. He consulted many of the elderly people around Namsan Mountain when it came time to determine their gravesites. The people all called him the geomancer. As he laid out the directions for Anne's and Shannon's graves using an ancient magnetic compass, he told me that someday my daughter and my wife would meet on this very spot. However, he also told me that I must keep this a secret or the meeting would not occur."

"Someday I would like to thank the geomancer." 

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