by Dave Daren
We stared at each other for a moment, and then the man backed slowly toward his car. I crabbed along after him. I wanted answers but I had a bad feeling that this was one battle I might not win.
I must have moved too quickly for his liking because he made another jab for my head. I saw it coming this time, and I checked the blow with a raised arm then counterpunched while his arm was trapped. He stumbled backwards, but I held onto his arm. He scowled and then kicked out at lightning fast speed. I felt my own arm go numb, and he quickly pulled his arm away.
I managed to duck beneath his next kick, but he was up against the Cube by then. He shot me a venomous look before he leapt inside and slammed the door before I could catch it. I had to jump out of the way as the car flew forward.
He sideswiped an old Buick and then peeled out of the parking lot without even bothering to check for traffic. The sound of the Cube and the Buick colliding finally caught the attention of the people in the burrito joint. A few trickled outside to investigate, and I decided to duck back upstairs before anyone asked too many questions.
Besides, I noticed a curious tattoo on my opponent’s arm and I wanted to make sure that I had it down on paper before I forgot too many details.
Chapter 4
I spent that evening alone and scanned through images of tattoos. The one I had seen featured a stylized serpent coiled around a sword and was far more detailed than the average tattoo. The closest thing I could find was a page about Japanese tattoo art.
I was about to call it quits when I found a link to Yakuza tattoos. Like American gangs, Yakuza often used tattoos to signify their loyalty. Some were extraordinarily complicated, full-body designs that could easily be labeled as great art. Others were less complicated but still remarkably detailed.
Near the bottom of the article were several images of standard tattoos, often given to members when they first joined a gang or accomplished a particular feat. I found the coiled snake tattoo at the end of the list. It was used by Yakuza loyal to someone called the Mizuchi. The original mizuchi were Japanese dragons but the current human one was no less dangerous. Police in Japan had tied his gang to at least thirty murders in the last two years but had no convictions.
I realized Anna’s case had just become a lot more complicated. Simple corporate greed was one thing, but for the most part, corporate management didn’t run around killing off their competition with guns and knives. The yakuza, on the other hand, had a deadly reputation and Mizuchi appeared to be one of the worst.
The next morning I called my pal, Ari. Ari had taken a job at one of the power player LA firms and had been trying to recruit me ever since. There were times when I missed the advantages that such a large firm had over my two-person operation, like the sheer volume of information that was available for up-and-coming attorneys. But Ari was always willing to share, and I wasn’t above taking advantage of that.
“Vince!” Ari exclaimed as soon as he answered the phone. “Long time, no see, bro.”
“How’s it going, Ari?” I returned. “Any new girlfriends?”
“Whoo, you wouldn’t believe the fine and shapely women I’m surrounded by,” he replied. “You really need to come to the office and check it out for yourself.”
“Right. No doubt I’ll get the full tour, complete with a meeting with a partner or two.”
“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying,” Ari protested. “You know they’d still be happy to bring you onboard. Especially after you won that Fullerton case.”
“Speaking of cases,” I interrupted in an attempt to refocus Ari. “Doesn’t your firm sometimes work for companies that have been caught up in RICO actions?”
“RICO? Is that what you’re handling now?” Ari asked.
“Potentially,” I admitted.
“Well, what do you need to know? Aside from the obvious that they can be a real pain in the ass. I mean, you’re talking about the government on one side and mob guys on the other.”
“Let’s start with the mob side. How do they get inside a company?”
“There’s a few ways but they like small companies. Not a lot of shareholders, and if it’s family run, they can use that as a weapon to keep everyone else in line. Usually they start by helping to bail someone out when they get too far in debt in exchange for some portion of the shares of the company. Before you know it, they’ve bought out the rest of the shares, and they own a totally legitimate company that they can use to launder money. It doesn’t really matter what the business is. We had a company that makes glitter that ended up in the hands of a couple of wise guys from New Jersey.”
“So how do you weed them out?” I asked.
“Well,” Ari began, and I could tell he was in his professor mode. “In most cases, the government brings federal racketeering charges against the alleged mobsters. Arrests are made, perp walks are done, and everything is frozen, including the assets of the company. By the time the trial is over, there’s not much left of the company. Usually, whatever is left ends up in bankruptcy.”
“But it doesn’t have to be a federal criminal suit,” I commented as I struggled to remember the details of the RICO statute.
“That usually works out better for the company,” Ari agreed. “Civilians can file their own racketeering suit in federal court. Most people who do it are hoping to recover under the triple damages language but they’re also more willing to reach a settlement deal that lets the company stay in business.”
“And what about California law?”
“California has several statutes that stand in for RICO,” Ari explained. “Some are specific to certain industries while others are more generic. What industry are you dealing with?
“Shipping,” I replied.
“Ooh, that turns up in a lot of racketeering cases,” Ari sighed. “Tell you what, I’ll email some material to you that will help you build your case in California courts. If you decide to tackle the federal system, just let me know, and I’ll send you that material as well.”
“Thanks, Ari. I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” I replied.
“Oy, the thanks I get,” Ari laughed. “One of these days you’ll miss my smiling face.”
“I’m always happy to see your smiling face,” I declared. “Especially if there’s food involved.”
“Which reminds me,” Ari replied, “there’s this new Argentine steak place I’ve been wanting to try. You free any time soon?”
“Let me get this filed and then we’ll talk,” I sighed. “Work first, you know.”
“Always,” Ari agreed. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Ari was good as gold, as always. A string of emails arrived, each loaded with several attachments. There were some basic, how-to style memos as well as some in-depth analysis of the statutes and the case law. I waded through half the material and decided that anyone who routinely handled RICO style cases for a living had to be on the crazy side.
Sofia saved me when she tapped on the open door. She gave me a bewitching smile, the kind that turns men into piles of jelly.
“You okay?” She asked.
“Yeah. Thank you,” I said fervently.
“You were so quiet in here I thought I’d better check,” she replied. “In case any ninjas snuck in and did away with you while I was diligently filing.”
“I’m still alive,” I reassured her. “Though I have to say, this racketeering stuff is mind numbing.”
“Well, you do have an escape,” she reminded me. “You’re supposed to be heading to Ventura.”
“Is it that time already?”
“Just about,” Sofia sighed. “I’ll be stuck here all alone in this stuffy office. I may have to go hang out in the burrito place just for the company.”
I laughed as I imagined Sofia commandeering one of the tiny tables and turning it into her own portable office. I had no doubt she’d have the restaurant crew serving as her assistants before the first hour was out.
“Hey, now that’s a mystery y
ou can work on while I’m gone,” I blurted out.
“What mystery is that?” Sofia asked as she leaned against the door.
“What’s the name of that place?”
Sofia opened her mouth to respond then closed it. Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “It must have a name,” she finally said.
“Yes, but what is it?” I demanded. “We always just call it the burrito place or the burrito joint. There’s no sign with a name. The health inspector’s report just gives the address.”
“Huh. You’re right,” Sofia realized.
“Well, he does get some things right,” came a third voice indicating that Anna had arrived for our day trip.
Sofia threw me a knowing smile then stepped back into the front room.
“Nice to see you again, Ms. Bernardi,” Sofia said. “And I’m glad to see you’re in one piece after your adventure with Vincent.”
“Well, adventure seems like an understatement,” Anna replied with a laugh.
I emerged from my office to find Anna and Sofia exchanging secretive smiles. I had no doubt that I was somehow the reason for these smiles though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know why.
Anna’s smile gave way to a look of concern, and she moved closer to me. Her right hand reached towards my face and stopped. “What happened?”
I realized that she hadn’t seen me since I had left in the tow truck. I also had neglected to tell her about the man in the parking lot. I had a bad feeling that I would regret that.
My reward for my rash decision the day before was a large purple bruise across my brow. The good news was that my nose wasn’t broken. The bad news was that I looked like I’d run into Mike Tyson when he was having a really terrible day.
“It’s nothing,” I reassured her.
“That’s nothing?” she asked dubiously.
“We had a suspicious character hanging about,” Sofia explained when it became obvious I wasn’t going to say anything more. “Vince went to talk to him. They ended up scuffling.”
Anna looked back and forth between me and Sofia.
“So,” I said. “Ready to head to Ventura?”
“Uh-huh,” Anna said. She looked at Sofia one more time.
“I didn’t see much,” Sofia said with a shrug. “Vince can fill you in during the drive.”
“I promise to tell you everything in the car,” I said as I placed a hand on Anna’s back and tried to guide her gently towards the door.
Anna and Sofia exchanged glances one more time before Anna stepped away from my hand. She strolled outside and waited for me to follow. I turned to Sofia, but she pointed towards the door. I shrugged and followed Anna to the walkway.
“I thought Sofia was able to get you a car,” Anna said as I joined her on the walkway.
“She did, but it’s not really good for going incognito,” I replied. “A black SUV, on the other hand, is perfect.”
“Let me see if I can guess,” Anna said as she scanned the parking lot. “Well, there’s that lime green thing over there.”
The lime green thing was a Kia Optima that featured plenty of chrome on the front and color-changing lights on the rims. It belonged to the burrito cook and he kept it parked directly in front where he and the rest of the restaurant staff could keep an eye on it.
“Now I know you couldn’t have missed that the first time you were here,” I said. “Next guess.”
She pointed towards a passenger van that had seen better days. The windows on one side had been tinted, but the rest were still clear. There was a pair of matching “Jesus Saves” bumper stickers on the back doors.
“No,” I replied.
She looked again and then she spotted the Caddy. I had been forced to park at the far end again and it was partially hidden by one of its modern brethren, a Cadillac Escalade.
“Down there?” she asked.
“Yes,” I admitted with a sigh.
“I have to see it,” she declared.
I followed her across the parking lot to my temporary ride. She circled it twice while she ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed.’
“I see the problem,” she said as she came to a stop in front of the DeVille.
“At least we have the Explorer,” I replied.
“True,” she agreed. “But at some point, you’re taking me for a ride in this bad boy.”
“I believe it’s actually a she,” I murmured. “At least, that’s what I’ve been told.”
“Well, I won’t know until I have a chance to ride in it,” she giggled. With that, she sauntered over to the perfectly ordinary looking Explorer. I followed in her wake and just made it inside before she slipped the beast into drive.
I gave her the abbreviated version of my showdown in the parking lot as we drove towards Ventura. She let me finish the tale without interruption and I hoped that she wouldn’t ask for more details.
“You’re not telling me everything,” she commented.
“What, you want a blow-by-blow?” I asked.
“At least tell me you gave as good as you got,” she finally said.
“I’m sure he woke up as achy as I did,” I replied.
“Uh-huh,” she said sceptically.
I let a few more miles pass and then I added, “I also picked up a bit of information after all that.”
She risked a glance in my direction and then quickly returned her attention to the highway. I could tell I had her interest now.
“The man who was watching the office had a small tattoo on his wrist,” I explained. “A Japanese dragon wrapped around a sword. It’s a tattoo used by one of the Yakuza gangs.”
Anna crinkled her brow. “I think I’ve seen that tattoo before.”
“Do you remember where?” I asked.
“At the office maybe? One of the new guys, I think,” she replied. “No, that’s not right. Genji. Yes, Genji has one.”
“Genji. He’s the board member you thought didn’t speak English,” I remarked.
“Yes,” she agreed. “I’m ninety percent certain it was him.”
“Well, that would certainly lend credence to the theory that the Japanese mafia has taken over ArDex.”
“Damn,” she sighed. “I suppose part of me was still hoping it wasn’t that bad.”
“Do you still want to do this?” I asked.
“Absolutely,” she replied.
The rest of the drive passed quickly as we made small talk and avoided any discussion of the case. Traffic moved at a good pace, and we arrived at the house ahead of schedule. The house turned out to be a rambling hacienda with white stucco and an abundance of clematis vines climbing towards the second floor. We parked next to a small fountain. At least I think that’s what it was. There wasn’t any water cascading down from the tiers and the catch pool had a fine layer of silt.
“It was shut off during the drought,” Anna explained when saw me looking at the fountain. “I never bothered to turn it back on.”
I understood why people had turned off their fountains and filled in their pools. Living in Southern Cali, you learn to appreciate water and its conservation. But there was a little part of me that was always disappointed to see things like this. I had my own fond memories of chasing my sister through the fountain at Navy Pier in Chicago one summer. I must have been ten at the time, and that fountain was the best part of the vacation in my opinion.
“I miss it,” Anna sighed, as if she’d been reading my thoughts.
“Good memories?” I asked.
“Some,” she admitted with a smile. “Come inside. The house always stays pleasant.”
The traditional hacienda theme continued inside, with tiled floors, dark wooden ceiling beams, and a massive fireplace that looked like it had been designed to roast an entire pig. Oil paintings covered most of the wall space but there was no obvious theme. Anna’s parents had hung whatever had appealed to them, I decided. No interior designer would have approved the wildly mismatched collection of colors and subjects on display.
“I like
it,” I said as I stood in the center of the room and turned slowly around. The furniture was older, but good quality, and I was willing to bet that it was plenty comfortable as well. There was a rug near the fireplace, one of those fuzzy sheepskin types. A recliner was positioned near a window overlooking the backyard, and I could easily imagine Arturo Bernardi seated there, keeping watch over his kingdom.
Anna had disappeared deeper into the house, and she returned bearing a pair of Smog City beers. She handed one to me, and we each took a sip of Sabre-Toothed Squirrel.
“I don’t make it up here all that often, but I try to keep it stocked with the essentials,” she explained.
“Always a good idea,” I assured her.
We settled onto the couch, and it was as comfortable as I had predicted. We polished off our beers in silence, and I was on the verge of a good nap when Anna’s phone rang. She looked startled at the interruption, but that quickly changed when she saw the caller i.d.
“Leo,” she told me. “I’ll put him on speaker.”
The first thing I heard sounded like a muffled conversation. That was followed by an odd scratching sound that I couldn’t place.
“Leo?” Anna called in a tentative voice.
“Oh, hey, you’re there,” Leo replied. “Sorry about that.”
“Where are you?” Anna asked.
“I just picked up the car and I’m heading towards the interstate. I should be there in about an hour or so,” Leo replied. His voice sounded shaky, and I wondered if he had stopped for a quick one at the airport bar.
“Okay, good. Listen, Leo. What did Watts tell you about the board meeting?” Anna prodded.
“Umm. Not much,” Leo replied. There was a long pause and another weird moment where it sounded like someone else was talking.
“Do you have the radio on?” Anna asked. “Could you turn it off? It’s making it hard to hear you.”
