by Eden Sharp
TWENTY-FOUR
Inspector Dean Ortiz
Ortiz had the receptionist at the InterContinental put a call through to Lewan and state there was a problem with a leak in the room above his and that they would be sending up a maintenance engineer.
Barstow took up position to one side of Lewan's door behind Aaron. Ortiz stood to the other side. The maintenance guy didn't look very convincing. The uniform was right but not the confidence.
Almost a minute after the knock Lewan opened the door. He was looking around like prey on an open prairie. Ortiz stepped forward and pushed him back into the room and pressed play on the device in his hand. The recording filled the room.
Hey Pete it's been a while. Listen I got something you might be interested in.
Silence.
A guy I know, a friend of mine, found out about a cheap deal on white oak. A hundred and fifty on ten. That's a great deal right? I was wondering. Maybe you could spot me the dough. I know we got our issues but I just thought you should know about this 'cause we're family right?
What's the name of this guy making the offer?
I don't know his actual name, just calls himself Shark. Says the lumber's in a container at Hunter's Point.
Silence.
Call your friend and make arrangements for a buy. I'll have the money ready.
Click. Redial.
What's the story?
'I've worked with my guy for years but he fucked us. I'm going to put this right and take care of the whole situation I can assure you. Trust me this won't happen again.'
Barstow
Lewan began shaking like a virgin on a first night in supermax. Ortiz guided him over to the bed and made him sit. Barstow leaned against the wall and listened while Ortiz painted a scenario for Lewan.
He had never seen so many dollar bills in one place. Columns of cash were piled next to an empty suitcase as if Lewan had been counting it all before they'd arrived to sink his ship.
Aaron started loading it back in. When it was full he took off the thin, nylon windbreaker he was wearing and used it to pick up the case. He scooped up a passport from the nightstand.
Ortiz nodded his head towards Barstow then the door. He turned his attention back to Lewan.
'You're working for us now, you'll be protected. Forget about Secora and Toma, they're gonna be taken care of.'
In the car a call came through from Jordan. Ortiz put it on speaker.
'Secora just had a visitor. Some glossy brunette. Driver stayed outside. Car is registered to one John Knox, ex-military, recently discharged, living in the Mission. They're about to move.'
'Okay. I don't want to jeopardise Reeves by contacting him now. Get Dawson to organize a patrol to do a traffic stop and find out who the woman is. Stay on their tail to see where they go in the meantime and keep me updated.'
Angela McGlynn
I saw the black and white in the side mirror before it lit us up. Knox was driving like a girl scout. No reason for a stop. Now I wished I hadn't reholstered my pistol. If they weren't cranky to begin with, this would do it.
Knox waited until we were across a junction and pulled over to the curb. He wound down his window. Placed both his hands on the wheel.
We both watched the cop in the rear view. He eased out, strolled over like he had all the time in the world. Or maybe he believed he had cause to be cautious. His partner stayed where he was riding shotgun.
The cop approached Knox in his blind spot, keeping slightly behind his left side, right hand hovering above his belt.
'Could I see your driver's license and registration please sir?' he said.
Knox slid his hand inside his jacket. I watched the cop's right hand twitch.
'Can you tell me why you pulled me over officer? Knox asked.
The cop said nothing, just read the documents. Then he peered in the window and looked across at me.
'Ma'am do you have any ID on you?'
'Yes, but you'll need to tell me what this is about.'
'Driver, step out of the vehicle.'
Hardball.
Knox got out.
'Turn around to face the vehicle and put your hands behind your back.'
The cop took his cuffs from his belt and slipped them on to Knox's wrists.
'You are not under arrest sir, we are just trying to ascertain your identities at this time. Do you have anything on your person that may harm me?'
'No sir.'
The cop patted him down. 'Just hang tight.'
I watched the other cop take an interest and exit the black and white.
Showtime.
'Ma'am I'm going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.'
I opened the door slowly and stepped out. Kept my hands where both cops could see them.
'Do you have any ID on you ma'am?'
'Yes.'
'Then I'll ask you again to produce it for me now.'
I took out my PI license and offered it up.
'For the record I'm carrying a SIG 229, loaded, just like yours,' I said.
The second cop making his way to Knox stopped in his tracks and changed direction. The first drew his side arm and pointed it at me. I'd figured that would be the general outcome.
'Raise your hands above your head and turn around slowly, keeping your hands where I can see them at all times.'
I raised my hands. Twice in one day.
The second cop reached inside my jacket and extracted my SIG from its holster. He emptied the magazine and walked over and placed everything on his hood while the ringmaster handcuffed me.
'You'll see from my ID that I'm a California licensed private investigator and that I have a carry permit for my weapon. Now that the drama's over I'd like to know what this is all about.'
The first cop handed over both our documents to his colleague who took them back to the cruiser.
'We've had a request to ascertain the identities of both occupants of this vehicle ma'am,' he said.
I watched the other cop calling in our details. He got a response and headed back over.
'You're both going to need to accompany us back to Southern.'
'Are we being arrested?' I asked.
'No ma'am, you're helping the police with their inquiries. I'm Officer Krantz and this is Officer Lecki and an Inspector in the Investigations Bureau needs to talk with you. Do you have anything illegal in the vehicle?'
'Absolutely not,' Knox said.
The cop named Krantz leaned in and checked the center console.
I wondered about the urgency of the request.
'Give us an hour, we're working,' I said.
'Ma'am, we'll be taking your weapon and escorting you in. Or if you prefer, I can read you a Miranda,' Lecki said.
I fake-smiled. 'Seeing as how we're not being arrested, you can take the cuffs off now.'
Barstow
Ortiz kept on the 280 until Bayview then took the off ramp. Barstow realized they were headed for Hunter's Point. The now familiar storage facility came into view and the car bumped along the gravel path past Keelty's office and straight on toward the unit where Lewan had made the drop.
Aaron got out and pulled out keys from his pants pocket and opened up the storage unit. He came back to the car and popped the trunk then carried the bundle wrapped in his jacket inside. When he came out his jacket lay limp in his hand.
Barstow wondered why they had deposited the case with the money back into the container and toyed with the idea of asking then thought better of it. He figured he would be told about the next part of the operation soon enough.
On the way back to the Hall, Ortiz took a call. He didn't bother putting it on speaker. Barstow wondered if the next phase was kicking in.
'I'm on my way in.' Ortiz said.
Barstow assumed he was right because Aaron looked uptight. No doubt the team would be called together for another briefing soon.
TWENTY-FIVE
Angela McGlynn
Lecki parked right o
utside the asphalt walkway leading in to the Hall of Justice, just west of the freeway on Sixth and Bryant. The three of us followed Krantz in through the glass doors into the gray granite, seven-story building. It housed Southern Station on first, as well as the Department of Justice, the Investigations Bureau, the District Attorney's office, a press office, the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, the morgue, and holding cells on the rest of the floors.
In the lobby we passed a large marble plaque with the names and dates of the SFPD fallen. Lecki checked my weapon with security and then they both abandoned us. After a short wait an officer by the name of Vasquez came to escort us to the elevators. Inside he hit the four button.
On the fourth, he walked us into the Narcotics-Vice Division of the Investigations Bureau, a twenty by thirty squad room, with harsh fluorescent lighting, a window overlooking the entrance ramp to the freeway and the smell of burnt coffee in the air.
Vasquez handed over our respective IDs to a bald-headed, light-skinned black man he introduced as Inspector Ortiz and left.
Ortiz didn't get up from his desk. He pointed to the chairs in front. Didn't speak. I caught a waft of high-end cologne.
He tossed Knox's ID to one side. I watched long manicured fingers examine my license, turning it over and over. Ortiz still said nothing. I felt like cracking a joke but decided to settle in and wait and hope for refreshments at the intermission.
A white guy with dark curly hair entered the room. He was casually dressed in a cotton T-shirt and chinos, a contrast to Ortiz's starched shirt and tie. He parked himself on the edge of Ortiz's desk and stared at us.
Finally, Ortiz spoke. 'This is Inspector Aaron. Run it by us, why you were visiting the address on Greek Street earlier.'
I sat back in the chair and took my time, built up one long moment for the hell of it.
'Kyle Grigson instructed me to look for his missing daughter Amber who was last seen leaving her residence in Oakland three weeks ago. He filed a missing report with Oakland police but they didn't make it much of a priority. The relationship with her father seemed to be okay apart from him finding out she was using coke. She threatened to go pull tricks with a hooker she'd met at a downtown drug house here. Her father thought she was bluffing and would return home. I checked the usual escort sites, Craigslist, trawled the Loin and put the word out in the parlors. I then found out she'd got a job as a casher working for a carder. He gave her a charge card in the name of Jaime Secora and sent her out around two weeks ago, estimated. I know she went to a mall but don't know which one. She also had the Secora girl's cell.'
Ortiz looked through papers in a file in front of him.
'How did you find the carder?'
'One of the working girls pointed him out, she'd been to an outcall at his place.'
'And why did you visit the property on Greek Street?'
'I think her disappearance may have been down to mistaken identity. I think maybe it was the Secora girl who was being targeted. I wanted to try and find out if that was a possibility.'
'And?'
'And her father runs a successful hardwood importation business and his daughter may have been an attractive target for a kidnapper. I gave him the heads up. He thanked me for my concern. Promised to see if he could think of anyone who may wish his family harm. I said I'd check back with him in a few days. That's it.'
Ortiz nodded toward Knox. 'Where's he fit in?'
Aaron's dark eyes never left me, going for full-on scrutiny while I was meant to be distracted by the questioning. I felt like a butterfly pinned to a board.
'Afterward I was planning on hitting some of our sketchier neighborhoods to make further inquiries. It's a high crime town, I decided to take some protection.'
'You licensed for that too?'
'Isn't it in your file?'
Ortiz ran a hand over the well-groomed goatee on his chin.
'We have a major operation going on at the moment, and your case, to a small extent, just got in the way of it. I'm gonna have to ask you to drop it where Secora is concerned.'
Hardwood flooring importers were beginning to look a lot more interesting. Especially when they were being investigated by narcs. I looked across at Aaron who was still staring at me, then casually back to Ortiz.
'Then perhaps you'd like to tell me what you know, so I can determine if any of it relates to my client's search for his missing daughter.'
Ortiz leaned back in his chair. 'I'll need the name and address of the carder.'
'As long as we're caring and sharing maybe you could talk to the Missing Persons Unit on Seventeenth and ensure Oakland has sent them a courtesy report so that the disappearance of an eighteen-year-old girl can continue to be actively pursued.'
Ortiz pushed a pad and pen across the desk. 'The carder's address?'
I leaned forward and picked up my ID and Knox's drivers' license.
'I'll look it up and get back to you when I call for an update,' I said.
Ortiz flashed his aesthetically perfect teeth into a hint of a smile before forming it into something more predatory.
'I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. You wanna keep your license, you step away from my operation or this time next month you'll be selling Mary Kay.'
He brought a scary speech but wasn't senior enough to mean real trouble.
He snapped the file shut for extra dramatic emphasis. 'Are we clear?'
I stood up. 'Are you done?'
I didn’t wait for an escort and made my way back toward the elevator. Knox followed on behind.
Inspector Dean Ortiz
Aaron looked out at the freeway. 'So what do we know about them?'
Ortiz reopened the file on his desk and began to read.
'Angela McGlynn. Parents killed in a car wreck when she was two. Foster child who never found a permanent home before eventually aging out of the system, except for a brief period of legal guardianship by a karate coach name of Jeff Besson. She still lives with him according to her latest DMV renewal. He runs a dojo over in the Haight, sometimes trains recruits for the academy. She did her training with an ex-cop, Ted Lansky, now deceased, who set up an agency when he retired. After getting her PI license she formed a business partnership with Besson who also supplies bodyguard services, ex-military, black belts, those kinda types. That's where the guy she was with comes in. John Knox.'
'The vet.'
'Yeah.'
'Anything on him?'
'They both appear to be clean.'
‘So now what?'
'Nobody's clean. I want to know everything about them. See what else we can dig up. I'll organize ongoing surveillance. Make sure she's behaving.'
Angela McGlynn
I had to go and check out my pistol so Knox waited for me in the car. When I got in he didn't turn over the engine.
He sighed. 'I'm guessing this gig is over.'
I said nothing.
'You think there's a chance she could still be found? Saved from something maybe?'
Saved. A knight in shining armor.
I shrugged my shoulders. 'I think from here on in you're better off out of it.'
TWENTY-SIX
I had Knox drop me back in SoMa to the place where I'd been eating breakfast. From there I took a cab home. I put on a pot of coffee and dialed Jeff. It answered after three rings.
'How's things?' he asked.
'Not good.'
Silence.
'Looks like there's a big narc op involving one of my principals. I've been warned off. I'll pick away at the edges but it might not look good for Knox if he's seen to be caught up in it. I need to cut him loose.'
There was a long pause.
'That might be a problem. Kelly and me are heading out of town in the morning to a babysitting job in France. Might be up to two weeks depending on how long the family's planning on staying. It's a big payday but Knox ain't interested in this type of work and I'm not going to be around to pick up anything else in the meantime.'
'You got the dojo covered?' I asked.
'Yeah, Pete's teaching classes and his wife's taking care of admin. I was going to call and tell you later.'
'How about we pay Knox a retainer?'
'If that's what you wanna do but you might as well make him feel useful.'
'Okay. I'll figure out something.'
'All right. I'll call and let you know when we're due back.'
'Right.'
'Stay safe.'
I was tired, hadn't eaten for five hours and wasn't looking forward to pulling another late night on Blacklist prepping to open a dummy account at Rawlings’ bank.
I knew the contents of my fridge amounted to zero food-wise so I called the concierge service and ordered a teriyaki salmon with a side of vegetables and cashew nuts to go from an Asian place nearby and made myself a seltzer with lime. Then I remembered I'd stashed a pack of my favorite snack at the back of one of my kitchen cupboards: small whole fish dried in a crispy coating of honey and sesame seeds. Jeff and I had discovered them in Japan. They tasted like roasted pork skin.
I carried the bag and my drink into my bedroom and tried to get enthusiastic about the idea of sitting freezing to death in an overly air-conditioned room.
While I was waiting for the food order to arrive I took out my regular laptop and typed in an address into the main browser window. A page launched showing a petite brunette with big breasts and dark eyes staring back in a forced pose. An audio-clip kicked in.
Are you looking for unconventional? I'm Nicki, an unadulterated seductress whose goal is to provide you with a gratifying diversion, a woman who gets her pleasure out of providing your every indulgence and passion, with as much intensity as you desire. Please click to enter and say hi.
