Gibson & Clarke (Failed Justice Series Book 2) (14 page)

CHAPTER 28

“Sonny is a target in a federal investigation. That’s not good news.”

Marta agreed.

“My suggestion is you cooperate. Don’t tell the Feds how you know it, but you understand he is a target, and whatever can be done, there will be no problems. It will get them to wonder—and to slow down. And be a bit more cautious.”

The speaker did not identify himself, the voice was muted, but Marta clearly knew who it was.

“I agree and will pass it on. Thanks.”

“You can thank me with dinner one of these nights.”

“Deal.”

Who would have thought it? My dance card is filling up, and at my age.

Her next phone call was to Jack. This was his baby, and he could handle it any way he chose. All she could do was give him and the silent AUSA’s suggestions on how to play it. If necessary, she would go back to her two other sources, but felt it might be overkill and show too much concern.

Marta though about Rik, thought about Xiang, and was now thinking about Josh. And the fact she was not getting any younger. She had no allegiance to any of them. Actually, Rik was now out of the picture, and Josh she had not seen in years. It was Xiang that bothered her. She could not figure him out.

What do I have that he doesn’t already have? Nothing. He can buy brains and bodies by the dozens. So why hit on me?

It occurred to her she was losing touch with Billy Jo, her partner. The one who put her in the middle of this mess. Was he sitting back and watching what was going on? Was he being proactive and she not realizing it? Was he waiting for something else to happen and then pounce? What?

***

“Billy, it’s me, Marta. Can we talk?”

Marta did most of the talking; Billy as was his custom, did most of the listening. He was in his West Virginia office, where he could rest his cowboy boots on his oversize teak desk and no one would dare criticize. After close to a half hour, Marta felt better. That was all that mattered. She now understood a bit more of what Billy had in mind and the fact he would have his own townhouse, in Newark, in less than thirty days. He would need his own full-time secretary, preferably young, impressionable, and not too smart, as long as she could type and use an Apple computer, in the Newark office, and at some point, they would need more room. One more secretary, one more junior associate, and a drop-dead gorgeous receptionist. Word had spread that they were
the
criminal law firm in the city.

Business was good.

Almost too good.

Billy was playing her like a virtuoso’s fine fiddle. He knew what she wanted to hear and told it to her. As long as she kept Mr. Yeung, their money machine, pleased, in any manner that suited both of them, that was all that counted. From what he was hearing, from Marta and his own spies, she was doing a good job. Billy never considered it spying; he was merely keeping up with the facts as to what his partners were doing.

Simple as that.

Once he actually lived in town, he could keep a closer eye on everything and orchestrate everything to his own satisfaction.

Money begets more money; power begets more power.

That was what Billy lived for. It was what drove him. It was part, a big part, of his DNA. As usual, he thought about the Dream Team. Robert Shapiro, Johnnie Cochrane, F. Lee Bailey (for what little he was worth) and Alan Dershowitz. Oh, what he would have given to have been on O.J.’s legal team.

Marcia Clark and Christopher Darden didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.

He knew his time would come. It just had to.

For now, Xiang Yeung was happily paying all the freight.

Billy hung up and went back to the file he had in front of him. He was looking for a loophole. That was what it was all about. Truth and justice can best be found in textbooks, not in courthouses.

***

Sonny was not pleased. His initial reaction was to tell the Feds to go screw themselves. No way was he going to tell them squat. He would take the Fifth. He would claim amnesia. He would play dumb, but he would damn sure not cooperate.

Jack decided to let it rest for a day or two. It was all a big game, and you had to treat the client like a small child. Let him rant and rave, and when he was tired of fighting, then show him a reasonable alternative. It worked every time.

Well, almost every time.

Jack made an unsolicited phone call to the US Attorney’s Office. It was about Salvatore Bonnonnos. No one had any idea what he was talking about. There were no open files on anyone by the name of Bonnonnos. When Jack asked to speak to the US Attorney for the Eastern District of New York and mentioned who he was, the former US Attorney for West Virginia, an off-the-record appointment was scheduled.

Everyone wants to do it the easy way these days.

Black Jack remembered the conflict he had when he first began representing the bad guys. Do it the easy way and work out a plea, and know his billable hours would be cut by a good ninety percent, or go to trial and roll the dice. Regardless of the outcome, the fees would be enormous. Jack decided there was a happy medium. He quoted a flat fee, one hell of a large flat fee, and if he could get the results with a few phone calls and a few off the record meetings, so much the better.

All the client really cared about was results. The real name of the game.

***

“Is there a problem I don’t know about?”

Marta looked at Miranda, not knowing what she was talking about. Then it hit her. Rik had called in sick for the second day in a row. The last time anyone saw him, he looked “strong like bull.”

“I suggested he take a few days off to get his priorities straight. No big deal. Any important calls?”

She was not about to let the entire office know Rik had showed up at her place unannounced and uninvited.

“Mr. Yeung asked you call him when you had a chance.”

The sound of his name sent shivers up her spine. Marta did not know why. At least she professed not to know why.

“I’ll call him in a few minutes. Anything else?”

“Just the usual.”

Marta went into her private office, closed the door, and put on some background music. She poured herself a second cup of coffee and picked up her cell phone.

“Xiang, it’s me, Marta. Is there anything I can help you with?”

CHAPTER 29

They agreed it would be a quiet evening. Nothing special, nothing fancy.

The chauffeur-driven black sedan was sitting in front of her apartment at the predetermined time. Neither Marta nor the driver noticed the blue Chevy parked three doors down the street. A tall black man was slouched down, observing. He was not in a good mood. He had not been in a good mood for several days

***

“May I ask you a very personal question, Marta? And may I take the liberty of calling you Marta?”

They were sitting in the private living room of Mr. Yeung. The staff had prepared hors d’oeuvres and given the night off.

“No problem calling me by my given name. As to the other, I guess that would depend on how personal the question is.”

“Have you ever tried opium?”

Marta was caught totally off-guard. It was the last thing on her mind.

“No, of course not. Why do you ask?”

She had a damn good idea why the question was posed.

“Would you object if I had a small quantity? It helps settle me down and allows me to think more freely.”

Marta merely shrugged her shoulders. She was offering no opinion, and this was not her home. If he wanted to do mind-blowing drugs, who was she to object?

Don’t think for one minute you’ll ever get me to try it.

“It’s your house; it’s your body. I think it’s crazy, but you don’t need my advice or my permission.”

“Thank you. You may change your mind as to why I am doing this and the effects it has on one’s body. Please remember, moderation is the key to everything in life.”

With that, Xiang took out a small clay pipe and half filled it with a chalky white substance. After lighting it up and taking several slow draws from it, Marta saw a subtle but remarkable change in his body. It seemed to lose gravity. It was like he took a deep breath, let it all out, and allowed the entire face and body to relax.

She would swear his heart rate and metabolism dropped significantly. He was now in a totally relaxed state of mind. Nothing else changed other than his voice was now softer, lower, and mellower.

“Now, we can have something to eat and talk. My staff has prepared some traditional Chinese dishes I hope you will enjoy.”

Marta was positive there was both a physical and emotional change in Xiang, but she could not put her finger on it. It was as if he had risen to a higher level of communication and spirituality.

Xiang seemed more alert, more precise, more insightful. He also appeared to open up more about himself. He told her about how he was sent to America at a very young age to make his fortune and if possible, later send for his parents and younger sister. He had only his cunning and fortitude to sustain himself. He understood the only way to make money, real money, was illegal. Opium was plentiful in the Golden Triangle. The DEA was still in its infancy. The people of the United States were tired of war and wanted an excuse to let off steam and have fun.

Drugs were the answer.

Sex, drugs, and rock n roll was the prevailing theme.

“I was only too happy to provide the drugs. In a few short years, I would have enough money to send for my parents and Mei Ling. Things took longer than I thought. By the time I had enough money, I had learned the plague had taken my parents far too soon and Mei Ling was in some unknown charity hospital.”

Here his voice seemed even lower and more respectful.

“I tried everything. No one knows this, but I actually went back to my home province to look for her. I was little more than a teenager, but I refused to give up hope. I was told there were no records—most children had died or merely wandered off. After close to two months, I gave up. I ran out of money and hope and strength. I was sure a cruel god had done this to me. I returned to America with one goal in mind. Revenge. To make money, lots of money, to compensate for my loss.”

Here Xiang stopped, as if to apologize for his ramblings.

“I am sorry to subject you to the insecurities and weaknesses of an old man. Please, try some of the brown rice dumplings with a special sauce prepared by my chef.”

The mood was broken. Xiang seemed five to ten years older. The transformation was remarkable. Marta did not comment. It was getting late, and she did not want to seem impolite, but the next day was a work day.

Xiang sensed her anxiety, put out his pipe, and rang for the chauffeur, who had his own room over the garage.

“It is late, and I know you have to be in court early. I will have Jabor drive you home. I hope you were not disappointed by my behavior, and I do look forward to spending time with you again.”

With that, Xiang bowed deeply and led Marta to the front door.

How did he know I am due in court at nine thirty in the morning?

“I had a wonderful time and look forward to your next invitation.”

Without thinking, she bent down and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

Why did I do that?

Xiang smiled again and stood as straight as his body allowed.

The blue Chevy sedan was long gone.

CHAPTER 30

Rik was sitting at his desk, staring at some old file in front of him. He did not raise his head until Marta walked by his cubicle and offered a polite “Good morning.”

“Is there anything special you would like me to work on today, Ms. Clarke?”

“As a matter of fact, there is. It appears one of our favorite clients, Sonny Bananas, is a target of a federal investigation. Please call Jack and ask him what you can do. You still have some sources with the Feds, don’t you? There is no need for strict formality in the office. You may call me Marta if you like.”

“Thank you, Marta.”

“You’re welcome. If you have a minute, I would like to speak with you in my office in private.”

It was not a request. Rik stood up and followed her.

“Close the door, please. I’ve been thinking about our last conversation.”

Rik smiled. He was becoming optimistic.

“There is no reason why our decision not to see each other socially should affect our business relationship. From now on, I will treat you like any other employee, but as far as anything else, it’s over. One hundred percent over.”

Rik could not believe his ears. Surely she had to be joking. Not after their last love-making session. One look at her sitting behind her desk told him she wasn’t. He couldn’t stop himself. Without thinking, he blurted it out.

“You’re dumping me so you can fuck that old man. That rich Chinese guy you spent last night with.”

“What? What did you say?”

“You heard me. I followed you last night. I left close to eleven, and you were still there with him. Alone. All the servants were given the night off. I know what’s going on. I’m no idiot.”

“Yes, you are an idiot. I slept in my own bed last night, alone, not that it’s any of your damn business. And you’re fired. As of right now. Get your shit and get out of here. If you ever follow me again, if I ever see you near my home, the office, or the home of my friends, I will see your PI badge is pulled. Permanently. Now get out of here.”

Marta was beside herself with fury. She couldn’t believe Rik or anyone was spying on her—and thinking she was sleeping with Xiang.

The thought of her and Xiang was not as repulsive as she would have guessed.

Rik had blown it, and he knew it. There was not a damn thing he could do. He should have waited a little while longer. He should have kept his damn mouth shut. He should have controlled his emotions. He had done none of the things a good detective should have done.

And now he was paying for it. Big time.

No one treats me like yesterday’s leftovers and gets away with it. That bitch doesn’t know who she is dealing with. No one.

Rik was talking to himself, but was ready to have the entire world know it.

***

“We need to find a new PI. I just fired Rik.”

For some reason, Billy Jo was not surprised. He had guessed they were sleeping together, and it was only a matter of time before there was a blowup and the employer fired the employee.

You never eat where you fart.

Billy was not about to ask why. Marta had a need to tell him. To get it out of her system.

“He’s been spying on me. Last night, Mr. Yeung invited me over to discuss some legal matters in private. This morning, Rik wanted to know why I was at his home in the early evening. Like it is any of his damn business.”

Billy was not sure all the facts were correct, but if Marta wanted him gone, he was gone.

“Looks like we’re going to have to replace him soon. Business is piling up. Sorry it didn’t work out.”

What the hell does he mean by that?

“It was a mistake from the very beginning. PIs are a dime a dozen. Shouldn’t take that long to replace him.”

“Make sure you change all the security codes.”

Marta had not thought of that.

“Right.”

Marta was aware she had not been thinking clearly for the past few days. Her mind was on Xiang Yeung. It made no sense.

I’ve got to get him off my mind. But how?

She was trying to visualize Xiang as some older protector, maybe a father figure, someone to call when she needed good advice, but couldn’t. Her feelings for him were mixed. At times they were not that of a daughter and father. She thought about all the times she had wished her own father had been there for her—but hadn’t been. He had been too busy with his other lady friends or too drunk to make it home many nights.

Marta recalled when she was accepted to college and the first person she wanted to tell was her father. But he was nowhere to be found. At least not until the bottle was empty or the wallet was bare. That’s when he came home to Mama.

It was about the same time that she quit on men. They were dishonest and could not be trusted to live up to their end of a bargain. She knew then, there was only one person she could rely on. Herself.

Never let a man know you need him. Never trust a man to do the right, the decent thing. Never allow yourself to be vulnerable. It will always come back and bite you in the ass.

Marta wondered if this was true regarding Xiang.

Without realizing it, Marta began rubbing herself. It was an unconscious reflex when thinking about men in general and how she got as much pleasure from masturbation than from any one man.

A knock on her door brought her back to the present. It was Miranda with some letters that had to be signed. She smoothed out her skirt and tried hard to focus.

Her face was flushed.

“Is everything all right, Marta?”

“Nothing earth shaking. I had to fire Rik for personal reasons. He seemed to think my being friendly with him gave him privileges never intended. He should have known being polite was just good office policy.”

Miranda said nothing. She had her suspicions about the two of them playing house, but it was none of her business.

Marta was now thinking of Xiang. She wondered if he could please her. Then the thought came to her.

He already has. Just not in the physical sense.