The Ying on Triad (12 page)

While drawing water for the Bunn coffeemaker, I
decided on a course of action. Gathering all my valuables,
I hauled them into the garage, after which I drove to the
nearest convenience store and purchased a padlock and
hasp, which I screwed to the door between the kitchen and
garage. And I put it on the garage side, not the kitchen
where he could pry it off. The garage door already had a
padlock, preventive security for the Model T Runabout.

The only item worth pawning left in the house was the
desktop computer, and I figured it was too heavy for him
to carry.

I stared at myself in the mirror while shaving. I shook
my head, wondering just what the world was coming to
when a body had to hide valuables from his own father.

Before I pulled out, I fed Oscar who, for some reason
or another, ignored the tiny flakes bobbing on the surface
of the aquarium. "You'd better eat, little guy," I said.
"Keep up your strength"

The little tiger barb was a real survivor, having weathered Jack's chemical attack as well as exceeding its life
expectancy by almost two years. I touched the tip of my
finger to the surface by his food, hoping to entice him to
eat but he continued to swim in lazy circles through the
plastic water sprite and Amazonian sword plants.

I went over my schedule for the day. First, I would look
up Sally Reston and then L. D. Bryson, Bobby's supervisor at A. A. Aggregates. I hesitated, uncertain about
Bryson. Packard had admitted telling Bryson he wanted
to kill Hastings. Maybe I should not waste my time on
Bryson.

I plopped down at the desktop computer. Behind me,
my old man snored. My blood ran cold when I saw the
date on the task bar, November 1. After today, only three
days until Bobby's execution. I pushed the thought from
my mind. I had work to do. I e-mailed Eddie Dyson, my
savior on more than one occasion.

Austin's one-time resident stool pigeon, Eddie Dyson
had become a computer whiz and wildly successful
entrepreneur.

Instead of sleazy bars and greasy money, he had found
his niche for snitching in the combination of computers
and credit cards. Any information that I couldn't find, he
could. There were only two catches if you dealt with
Eddie. First, you never asked him how he did it; and second, he only accepted Visa credit cards for payment.

I never asked Eddie why he only accepted Visa. It seemed
like any credit card should be sufficient, but considering the
value of his service, I never posed the question. As far as I
was concerned, if he wanted to be paid in Japanese yen, I'd
pack up a half dozen bushels and send them to him.

Failure was not a word in his vocabulary. His services
did not come cheap, but he produced. Sometimes the end
is indeed worth the means.

In my e-mail, I asked for background checks on Lei
Sun Huang, whom both Danny O'Banion and Joe Ray
Burrus claimed headed up the Ying On triad; and Joey
Soong, the top man in the Sing Leon tong. As an afterthought, I asked for the work history of Robert Packard at
A. A. Aggregates in Austin, Texas, on the outside chance
there was something there. And I added ASAP.

"You look terrible," Janice exclaimed when she
climbed into the truck later that morning.

With a dry laugh, I shifted into gear and pulled into the
traffic. "I had an early morning visitor."

She paused in the middle of buckling her seat belt.
"You don't mean it!" she gasped.

"Want to bet?"

"So it was him you saw last night?"

"Probably"

She drew a deep breath and leaned back in the seat. "Did
he have anything to say? I mean, about-" she hesitated.

"-stealing the laptop at the reunion?"

99
"Yes.

Stretching my fingers around the wheel, I grunted, "He
doesn't even remember the reunion. He just came in,
downed the rest of his Thunderbird, and passed out on the
couch. He was still there when I left."

Janice remained silent, but I could hear the wheels
turning.

I answered before she asked the question, "Don't
worry. Anything he could pawn I locked in the garage
with the Model T. Now, that doesn't mean he might not
carry off the kitchen table or the microwave. At least, he'd
have to work hard for that, and I really don't believe my
old man would be willing to work hard for anything."

"Maybe not," she hesitated. "I know he's your father,
and I don't want to hurt your feelings, Tony, but you better watch him closely"

With a chuckle, I agreed.

She looked out at the overcast sky. "I hope it clears off
by tomorrow."

"For your aunt's reception?"

"That we can move inside. I want good weather so we
can drive out in the little car."

I chuckled. When I bought Model T in Vicksburg, I
knew Janice would fall in love with it, and she had.
"You'd better cross your fingers."

"Don't worry."

"Where are we headed now?"

"North of Round Rock. Almost to Georgetown. A lady
named Sally Reston"

"Who is she?"

I explained.

Janice looked around at me with a cryptic frown on her
face. "You're kidding me. An ex-hooker running a day
care center?"

"That's what the man said. I'm just taking it on faith."

The day care center was a tan metal building about the
size of the local 7/11, closer to Georgetown than Round
Rock. Inside it was bright and airy, the vividly painted
walls decorated with cheerful images of various nursery
rhymes and fairy tales. Along one wall, a laughing mouse
ran up a clock. On another, a cat played a fiddle while a
dog laughed as the cow jumped over the moon and the
dish ran away with the spoon.

A older woman who appeared to be in her late fifties or
early sixties was helping another woman herd a squiggly
line of small children down the hall. Her brown hair was
cut short, making her full face even fuller. She wore
washed-out jeans and a bright red sweatshirt with the
words, Love the Little Children, printed across the front.
She looked around and smiled warmly, the kind of smile
Grandmere Ola would give me, the kind all grandmothers
give their grandchildren. "Can I help you folks?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm looking for Sally Reston"

"That's me. Let me help Mattie settle the children in
for breakfast snacks, and I'll be right back"

As she disappeared down the hall, Janice leaned toward
me and whispered, "She doesn't look like a hooker."

"Ex-hooker"

"Okay, ex-hooker."

"What's an ex-hooker supposed to look like?"

Janice shrugged.

"She's older than I expected," I muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"My Sally Reston worked the Double Eagle ten or
eleven years ago. I figured she'd be in her early forties,
not as old as this lady.

"Your Sally Reston?" she arched a questioning eyebrow.

I shrugged. "Figure of speech. Anyway, this can't be
her. How many sixty-year-old hookers do you know?"

"Are you kidding? I don't know any hookers period"

Sally returned, brushing at a spot on her sweatshirt.
With an amiable chuckle, she explained, "Milk. Little
Georgie dribbles when he drinks." She chuckled and
looked up. "Now, what can I do for you?"

I made the introductions. "I'm not sure I have the right
Sally Reston, Ma'am, but do you happen to know a man
by the name of Pop Wingate?"

The smile on her lips flickered, but remained, though it
was not as cordial as a moment earlier. "Used to. Years ago"

I breathed a sigh of relief. Despite the age confusion, I
had obviously found the right person. "If you don't mind,
I'd like to talk to you about Albert Hastings."

The smile faded from her face completely, replaced by
a frown on her lips and a suspicious gleam in her eyes.
"You the cops?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Albert's dead," she replied in a flat voice. She glanced
around to see if anyone was nearby. "Why should I talk to
you?"

I turned on the charm. Smiling brightly, I took a step
back, careful not to invade her space. "Like I said, Pop
Wingate gave me your name. He said to tell you `hi."'
The last wasa lie, but it served the purpose I wanted.

A tiny smile replaced the frown on her face.

I continued, "I went to Pop in an effort to save a man
from execution at Huntsville. He sent me to you. He
thinks you might be able to help."

With a wary look in her eyes, she studied me a
moment, then switched her gaze to Janice. "What do you
want from me?"

"Same thing I wanted from Pop. To help save Bobby
Packard," I replied simply.

She maintained an inscrutable expression on her face.
Her eyes narrowed. "He was convicted. He got what he
deserved"

"Maybe so. I won't argue with you, but will you at least
tell me about Albert Hastings?" She studied me a moment
longer, considering whether to talk to us or throw us out.
Finally, she nodded to a closed door next to a wall mural
of little Miss Muffett sitting on her tuffet. "My office is in
there. No one will disturb us"

Inside, she indicated two chairs in front of her desk.
"Please"

We sat.

Wearily, she slumped into her chair. "Up front, understand, I don't want any publicity. I can't afford any.
Guarantee that or I won't say a word."

"You don't need to worry about that, Miss Reston.
Truth is, unless you were an eyewitness to the murder,
you'll never be involved. I'm just trying to find out more
about Hastings. Maybe I can find some other avenues to
explore."

She looked around the office. "I've worked hard these
last ten years to build a nice little business here. I have a
good reputation in the community. I want to keep it"

"You'll have no problems with me," I said, "I promise."

With a groan of resignation she said, "I had hoped I
was finished with Albert and the Double Eagle," she
sighed, "but, I don't suppose you can ever get away from
your past. You know something, Mr. Boudreaux. I've
learned there is no such thing as starting over in life. It's
really about picking up the pieces and just going on. The
past, regardless of how good or bad, is still your past. You
just suck it up and keep going"

I nodded, leaning forward slightly. "Pop said you had
dates with Hastings"

"Yes, several, until I found out just how despicable a
man he was. He put me in the hospital with his fists.
That's when I dropped him and the whole business" Her
eyes blazed fire. "He was a cruel egomaniac. He thought
he was better than everyone and treated everyone that
way. Oh, but the man loved to party, I'll say that for him"
She stared defiantly at Janice. "We all did. There was
nothing Albert didn't try-that we didn't try-drugs
included. His favorite was coke"

"Where did he get it?"

She laughed caustically. "From his politician pal,
Samuel Jefferson Bradford"

"Bradford!" I looked at Janice in disbelief.

Sally gave me a wry grin. "Yep. Texas' very own distinguished Democratic senator." She laughed bitterly.
"Albert was a world-class hypocrite. He hated Bradford.
Told me so several times, yet he refused to break away.
Maybe it was the drugs. I don't know."

"Why did he hate him?"

She shrugged, "He never said"

"Did Hastings ever mention anything about his wife
and Bobby Packard having an affair?"

She snorted, "Lordy, that man didn't have room to talk.
But, to answer your question, no. He never talked about
his wife"

"What about Bradford? Do you have any idea where he
got his drugs?"

Pursing her lips, she shook her head. "No, but more
than once, he showed up at a party with a Chinese dude.
Back then, the Chinks supplied drugs to a lot of people. I
don't know about now"

"Can you remember anyone else who came to your
parties?"

She pondered the question. "Not really. Well, maybe
once or twice Hastings' campaign manager and some of
his assistants showed up. Not often. The parties were really just for the big wheels"

"Campaign manager? You're talking about Don
Landreth"

"Yeah, and his assistant, Eric Lavern"

"Lavern?"

"Yes. He must have been sewn to Landreth's coattail.
They were always together."

"Is he still around?"

She shrugged again. "Beats me"

"Did you know Bobby Packard?"

"I met him. Seemed like an okay guy. We never had
any dates, if that's what you mean"

I didn't get as much as I had hoped from her, but I did
pick up enough to fill a couple holes and open up a few
more. Bradford, whom Sally claimed Hastings hated, supplied the drugs. Could the Chinaman have been his supplier? And then there was Eric Lavern. Maybe he knew
Landreth's secret. The next problem was to find him.

I rose and thanked Sally Reston.

She nodded. "Remember. No publicity." She gave
Janice a wan smile. "You'll understand this, Honey. I've
had a hard life. I'm almost forty. I don't have time to start
over."