Mahu Vice (16 page)

TREASURE AND THE TAPES

We thanked Sean Hackbarth and walked out in the hallway, where I saw a security camera. “You keep the tapes?” I asked, pointing toward it.

“It’s all digital. Every day, the system overwrites the data from a week before.”

“So you’ve got a week’s worth of data from this camera?”

“Come on down to the office. I’ll show you.”

We started working backward, and didn’t have far to go. At ten o’clock that morning, a tall, attractive Chinese woman left apartment 609 and walked to the elevator. She got in and disappeared from the frame.

“That her?” Ray asked.

I compared the photo we had of Treasure to the digital image, and the match was close enough for me. “How about cameras in the garage?” I asked.

Hackbarth punched in some buttons on the keyboard, but the cameras in the garage were no help. We saw Treasure exit the elevator, then walk out of the frame.

By then it was the end of our shift. “You want to call Sampson, get him to authorize the overtime for a stakeout?” Ray asked.

“Suppose we have to.” I was to meet Sergei Baranov that night at eleven at the Rod and Reel Club, but if we were running late I could always call him. He was a big boy; he could occupy himself at the club on his own.

I walked outside and called Sampson, reaching him on his cell phone. “You aren’t sure that this is the girl?” he asked.

“We’re looking for a beautiful Chinese girl who works for the company that owns the apartment and ran the acupuncture clinic that employed Norma Ching and the two dead girls. Logic says the girl we saw is Treasure Chen.”

He authorized us, and then I called the detectives’ area and asked the receptionist to put me through to whoever was on duty.

“Hart.”

Great. Steve Hart was already unhappy that we’d made some progress on his cold case—the death of Lucas Tyler. But I needed his cooperation. “Can you pull up a motor vehicle registration for me?” I asked. “I’m out in Kaka’ako for a stakeout and I need to know what I’m looking for.”

“Got a name or address?”

I gave him Treasure’s name and the address in Hawai’i Kai. He was gone for a while. “I’ve got a license in that name and address, but no vehicle.”

“Can you check a corporate?” I gave him Golden Needles and Wah Shing.

He sighed loudly. “Hold on.”

“Yeah, you’re a prince,” I muttered. He came back a couple of minutes later. “Three vehicles under the Wah Shing name. A Mercedes, a BMW, and a Lexus.”

“Can you read me the data?”

Another big sigh. But he did, and I copied it all down. “Thanks, Steve. I owe you one.” He hung up without saying anything else. Ray came outside and I showed him what I had.

“What kind of car did that guy see?” he asked. “The guy from UH who saw the arsonist?”

I struggled to remember. “BMW or Mercedes, I think. Dark color.”

“So could have been any of these three cars,” Ray said.

“Could have been. Maybe Treasure’s our ninja, and our shooter too. We could wrap this case up tonight.”

“Chance would be a fine thing,” he said.

There was a coffee shop across from the entrance to the condo’s garage, and we agreed that I’d sit there scanning license plates of suspect cars, and Ray would stay in the control room with Sean Hackbarth, whose shift didn’t end until eleven. If I got a hit, I’d call Ray, and he’d pull up the camera in the garage and see if a woman who matched Treasure’s description rode up to the sixth floor. Once she did, we’d go up and pay her a visit.

It got dark after seven, and when a parking space opened up in front of the coffee shop I moved the Wrangler and took up position there, where it would be easier to see license plates as the cars paused and waited for the garage grille to rise. Around seven o’clock, a black BMW pulled up with a plate that matched one we were waiting for, and I called Ray.

By the time I got to the control room, the woman had parked and gotten into the elevator, and Ray and Hackbarth were watching the sixth floor camera. The woman got out of the elevator and walked to the door of apartment 609. We watched her go inside. “You’ll call if she goes out before we get up there?” I asked Hackbarth.

“You got it.”

The concierge programmed the elevator to stop on six. At the door to 609, I knocked, and said, “Miss Chen? Honolulu PD. We’d like to talk to you.”

I was just about to knock again when the door opened.

Treasure Chen didn’t look as beautiful as she did in the photo with her sister, but seeing everyone around you get murdered can have a bad effect on your looks. I showed her my badge, and she said, “I remember you, detective.”

“May we come in?”

She shrugged. “I guess so.”

I realized as we sat down in the living room that until that evening I’d never considered Treasure as a suspect in the murders. I wasn’t sure why; was it because she was beautiful? And yet, Lucas Tyler had been handsome, and cruel as well.

“Where were you on Tuesday morning?” I asked.

She looked wary. “I didn’t kill them. I called 911. Why would I do that if I’d killed them?”

“So you know what we’re talking about,” I said. “Why don’t we start from the beginning. Last I saw you were working at the Lobster Garden. What happened?”

“After Tommy died, I got fired. That bitch Mae never liked me. Her husband liked to flirt with the hostesses, so they never lasted long. A while later, Norma offered me my job back at the lingerie shop.”

“As a prostitute?”

“If that’s what you want to call it. I modeled lingerie, and sometimes the men wanted more.” She made a sour face. “I didn’t like giving massages. But at least I made money. No one wanted Norma, so she hated it. The only money she made was from managing us. But what else could an old woman like her do?”

“There were more of you?”

“Always three or four girls,” she said. “And usually a boy, too.”

“Did you ever meet the man who owned the shop?”

“Eventually. One day he came to Waikele.” She pursed her lips together. “I offered to give him a massage, but he didn’t want me. Only the boy.”

“Was that Jingtao?”

She shook her head. “No, he only came a few months ago. This was another boy, one who left.”

Ray, who’d been taking all the notes, continued the questioning. “Did you know about the fires?”

“What do you mean?”

“The lingerie store burned shortly after you moved to Waikele. And then after you left that place, it burned, too.”

She looked surprised, and I saw the wheels in motion in her head. “And then the acupuncture clinic burned, too.”

He sat back on the sofa and crossed his legs. “You know anything about it?”

“No. I didn’t realize that the first two locations had burned down.”

“Why did you move from Waikele to St. Louis Heights?” he asked.

“One day Mr. Hu showed up, said we had to move. So we moved.”

I looked around the living room. It looked as if someone had walked into a showroom and bought the whole room, from the cream-colored sofa to the glass coffee table, even the mass-produced artwork on the walls.

Ray was still asking questions and taking notes. “Did he pick the new location, or did you or Norma?”

“He did. But when we moved, he made me co-manager, with Norma. He wanted to get rid of her, but he had to train me first. He promised me that one day she’d be gone, and I’d be in charge.”

“How did you contact Mr. Hu?” I asked, hoping she had better information than I did.

“We didn’t. He always called us. When the boy ran away, we didn’t know what to do. We had to wait a couple of days until he called. He came to the clinic a few hours later and told us that we had to move out.”

I leaned forward. “Where were you supposed to go?”

“He didn’t have a new location yet. He was very angry that we’d let Jingtao get away. He said that if Jingtao went to the police, he could compromise our whole operation.”

“So what happened after that?” Ray asked.

“We packed up everything. We were short on staff, so Meiying and Meizhen and I did most of the work, with Norma supervising.” The way she said the word it was clear what she thought of Norma. “She sent the three of us home and said she’d be in touch. I was supposed to keep tabs on Meiying and Meizhen, and I called them every day to make sure they didn’t go anywhere.”

Ray asked how to spell their names, and if Treasure knew their last names. “The last name on their paperwork was Wang,” she said. “But they weren’t related. So it could be their real name, or not.”

“When was the last time you spoke to them?” I asked.

“Monday afternoon. I was supposed to pick them up on Tuesday morning and take them grocery shopping, since they didn’t have a car. But when I got there, there was no answer at the door.”

“Did you have a key to the apartment?”

“The lock was broken when I got there. I was worried that they’d run away, like Jingtao, but then I went into the bedroom.”

She started to cry, but I wasn’t sure if the tears were just for our benefit or not. “I was so frightened. I thought someone had killed them to…”

“To what?” I asked.

She took a deep breath. “We had cameras in the clinic. We would take movies of what happened in the rooms, and then Mr. Hu would look at them. If he recognized a man, he would take the tapes away.” She began to cry in earnest. “I thought one of those men—came and killed the girls—because of the tapes.”

Ray got up and got her a paper towel from the kitchen, which she used to wipe her eyes. “You have any idea who those men might be?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I didn’t recognize them. And Mr. Hu took all the tapes.”

“Even the ones from Friday?” I asked.

“Yes. When he came, he took everything. Even the cameras.”

I wasn’t sure what to do next. Treasure didn’t know how to get hold of Mr. Hu. That meant that I was the only person who might be able to find him. And if I didn’t soon, then both Treasure and Brian Izumigawa could be at risk.

WHO AMONG US IS INNOCENT?

I looked out the window and saw a jet coming in for a landing at Honolulu International. Another planeload of tourists coming to spend a week in paradise. “Who else knows about this apartment?” I asked Treasure.

“Mr. Hu bought this place so that a guy who worked for him could meet with high-profile clients.” She lowered her voice, as if Mr. Hu was listening in. “There are cameras in the bedroom. But this guy, Lucas, was always locking himself out, so Mr. Hu gave me a spare key. Then Lucas disappeared a few weeks ago, and I knew the apartment was empty. You see how good the security is. I thought I’d be safe here.”

“Did you know that Lucas was dead?”

Treasure shrugged. “I’m not surprised. He was using way too much ice. Men didn’t want him anymore, and Mr. Hu wasn’t happy.”

“Does Mr. Hu have a key to the apartment?”

“I’m sure he does.”

We waited for Treasure to make the connections on her own. “You don’t think that Mr. Hu…”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what to think yet. But somebody’s tying up loose ends. Lucas, Jingtao, Norma, the two girls. Logic says Mr. Hu could be behind it. Or somebody who wants to take over Mr. Hu’s operation. Which is pretty much the same thing when it comes to you.”

“Where can I go?” she asked.

Ray and I looked at each other. I didn’t think there was much chance we could get Treasure into any kind of protected witness program; there wasn’t a case against anyone yet. And I had a feeling she knew more than she was telling us, so I wanted her someplace where I could keep tabs on her.

“Did Mr. Hu know you and Norma didn’t get along?” Ray asked.

“He agitated it. He’d tell me things about Norma, and then he’d tell her things about me.”

“So he’d never think you’d hide out at Norma’s, would he?”

“That shithole in Chinatown?”

“You have a better idea?” I asked. “A sugar daddy who might put you up?”

Treasure sighed. “I guess I could stay at Norma’s for a few days, until you find Mr. Hu and lock him up.”

I wasn’t sure that Mr. Hu was behind the murders yet. But if Treasure believed it, she’d be willing to hide out for a while.

We waited while Treasure packed up. By the time we were ready to leave she’d camouflaged herself, darkening her skin a few shades, pulling her shoulder-length black hair into a ponytail, and donning a UH T-shirt, a pair of shorts, and rubber slippas. Instead of a high-class madam, she looked like a college student.

We walked out of the building, Ray first, scanning the street. It was dark, and we both had our weapons ready, not knowing what to expect. But the only people we saw were a middle-aged couple heading to Restaurant Row and a group of teens who’d just come from a movie.

Ray climbed in the back of the Jeep with Treasure’s rolling suitcase, and she sat up front with me for the drive to Norma’s building in Chinatown. “Where were you today?” I asked as we drove.

Treasure looked out the window. We were passing the Aloha Tower, all lit up like a beacon welcoming tourists to our beautiful islands. “There was an office,” she said. “I thought maybe Mr. Hu kept the information he was using to blackmail people there. I thought if I could get hold of the tapes, I could use them to protect myself.”

“Where was the office?” I asked.

“Across the street from the shopping center. But there was nothing there.”

“Define nothing,” I said. “Cleared out like the acupuncture clinic?”

She nodded.

“You had a key?”

“No key. A combination lock. I found the combination one day on a piece of paper and I memorized it. You never know.” She gave us the address and the number, and Ray wrote it all down.

When we got to Chinatown, Ray remained in the Wrangler with Treasure, while I headed to Norma’s building. I didn’t know what to expect, so I moved carefully, looking left and right, my hand on my gun and ready to draw if I had to.

A black cat scrambled across in front of me and my pulse raced. But there was no one around except a young Chinese couple hurrying home in the dark, and I got into Norma’s building unmolested. The crime scene tape was still stretched across her door, and I was glad I’d kept the key Norma’s neighbor had given us Tuesday morning.

I unlocked the door and slid under the tape. The apartment had a lingering smell of death, but I lit a couple of sticks of incense. It didn’t look like anyone had been there since the medical examiner’s office had taken away Norma’s body.

“Everything looks fine,” I said, when I got back to the Wrangler. “I think we should leave the crime scene tape up, though. Makes the place look uninhabited.”

“I’d better get some food,” Treasure said. “I hope Norma had cable.”

We took her to the Foodland on Ala Moana and stocked her fridge. On our way back, Ray called Julie and arranged for her to pick him up at Norma’s. I parked across the street, checked the area one more time, and then we got out of the Wrangler, Ray and I carrying her bags of groceries like loyal vassals. At least she was pulling her own rolling suitcase.

Ray saw Julie sitting in their car, and he waved. Just then Treasure tripped and sprawled to the ground. Her suitcase fell over and the zipper burst, and her clothing started spilling out. She began to cry.

Julie got out of the car and hurried over. I’d met her a couple of times, when I was picking up or dropping off Ray. She was Italian, with dark, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a polo shirt and shorts. “Can I help you?” she said, kneeling down to Treasure. “I’m Julie, Ray’s wife.”

Treasure let Julie stand her up, and then Ray held her while Julie stuffed the lacy lingerie back into the suitcase. Between the three of us, we got Treasure, her clothes, and her groceries up to Norma Ching’s apartment.

Julie went into the bedroom and stripped the bed, making it up with new sheets and waving around the incense smoke. Treasure sat on the living room sofa like a lost child as I made tea and helped Ray put away the groceries. Ray saw me looking at my watch and said, “Why don’t you head out? Julie and I will stay with Treasure for a while.”

“Thanks. I’m beat.” I walked out to the hallway where there were no signs of life, not even the nosy woman who’d been Norma’s friend. It was about ten thirty and I was due to meet Sergei at eleven. It had been a long day, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend the next couple of hours with Sergei cruising the bars, hoping one or both of us would get lucky.

But I’d promised, and there was always the chance that we’d end up together. Our first romp had been a lot of fun, and though I was tired, my dick stiffened at the thought of a second round—especially when I remembered those pictures of him on MenSayHi.

When I walked into the Rod and Reel Club, Sergei was already at the bar making conversation with Fred, the bartender. Fred’s handsome but brainless, a sexy dude with a buff chest, a diamond stud in his left ear, and enough charm to pave the length of the Kamehameha Highway. I felt jealous, wondering if Sergei would go home with Fred rather than with me at the end of the evening.

But Sergei was glad to see me, enveloping me in a big bear hug, kissing me on the lips, and squeezing my butt. I felt a second wind and ordered a Longboard Lager. When it arrived, Sergei and I went outside to the patio.

The moon moved in and out behind clouds above us. The ground light was too strong to see any stars, but the music wasn’t loud and I could smell plumeria blossoms from a tourist’s lei behind me. I started to relax.

“How’s life in Honolulu treating you?” I asked.

“Way different from Anchorage, I’ll tell you that. I don’t think I’ve stopped sweating since I got off the plane.”

“Haoa working you too hard?”

He shrugged. “I do the payroll, and I interview and hire guys. That’s the toughest part. Americans don’t want to work that hard for that money. So most of the guys these days are from someplace else. Chinese, Okinawan, Filipino, Malay, Samoan. I could run a Pacific branch of the UN if I wanted.”

He took a swig of his beer and leaned forward. “I shouldn’t tell you this, you being a cop, but sometimes you have to look the other way when a guy doesn’t have the right paperwork. I mean, you have no idea what the government wants these days. Some guys, they just don’t have the stuff.”

“You think they might be illegal?”

“I don’t ask, I don’t tell.”

I’d always thought my brothers were scrupulously honest—but who among us can pass every test? I’d lied to my family for years about my sexual orientation. Lui had sent TV reporters to chase me when I came out, making a news story out of my life. Even Haoa had reacted badly, beating up Tatiana’s friend Tico when he went on a gay-bashing spree with some of his workmen because he couldn’t deal with the fact that his little brother was a mahu.

For the next couple of hours, Sergei and I drank, played some pool, and danced. I kept thinking about Mike, though, and when a big Samoan guy asked Sergei to dance, and they locked lips on the dance floor, I was happy to turn Sergei over to him.