by Dave Daren
“Yo, Vince,” Ari said when he answered the phone. “What’s the latest?”
“How much time do you have?” I asked.
“Ooh, that bad, huh?” Ari replied. “That RICO case heating up?”
“Looks like it,” I agreed. “I’m going to find someplace to lie low for a while.”
“Whoa, what happened?” Ari demanded.
I filled him in on the events of the day. Ari listened and inserted only the occasional “Huh” as I wove my tale.
“So that was my day,” I concluded. “How was yours?”
“A lot better than yours,” he replied. “I might be able to help you with a place to stay, though.”
“I’m not staying with any of your girlfriends,” I teased.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Ari replied. “Besides, I wouldn’t want them getting any ideas about you. Let me call you back.”
We hung up, and I went back to the view outside my window. I’d expected some sort of retaliation and this attack fit with what I knew about the yakuza. Still, something felt odd about this. Why bother with the mess? Especially if the goal was to deliver the card with the warning? It was easy to say that they were looking for something, but then why not trash my office as well? I was still no closer to a solution when Ari called.
“You’re set,” Ari announced.
“How’s that?” I asked as I rubbed my forehead. I had too many questions and not enough answers.
“The firm keeps several apartments,” he replied. “You know, for clients who come in from out of town or lawyers who need a place to crash for the night. All the amenities, including top-notch security. I’ve got you set up in one for the next month.”
“The firm was okay with that?” Not that I was complaining, but I was curious.
“Sure, why not,” was all Ari offered as an explanation. Ari gave me an address on Martel Avenue and told me to meet him in the lobby in an hour.
The building he sent me to was brand new. There were still tarps on the floor in the lobby and an empty paint can next to the desk in the lobby. Ari was already there when I arrived, chatting to the young woman behind the desk. They both looked up with a guilty expression when I stepped into the lobby.
“This is him,” Ari announced.
“You’re all ready, Mr. Creed,” the woman said with a shy smile. “You can go on up.”
“Thank you, my dear lady,” Ari replied for me as he swept me into the waiting elevator.
“I thought you said this place had top-notch security,” I complained as the elevator doors shut.
“Vince, would I lie about such a thing?” Ari asked in his most dramatic voice. “Just because you can’t see a hulking ex-tackle sitting by the door doesn’t mean he isn’t there.”
“I’d feel better if I could see him,” I noted.
“He’s there, trust me,” Ari laughed. “Now wait ‘til you see this place. High-end appliances, big-screen TV, and your own balcony. Oh, and it’s two bedrooms if Sofia needs to hide out as well.”
“I’ll ask,” I replied. “Though I imagine she’d feel safer with her brothers nearby.”
“They could sleep on the sofa,” Ari offered.
“Oy,” I groaned.
The elevator stopped at the fifteenth floor, and the doors slid open. The smell of fresh paint flooded my nose.
“You can’t smell it inside,” Ari assured me. He led the way to the end of the hall, past the community bulletin board, an ice machine, and a lounge area without any furniture. There were no numbers yet on any of the doors, and I wondered how residents found the right apartment in the dark.
Ari stopped in front of a door that had been painted a pleasant shade of blue. Like the other doors on this floor, there was no keyhole to be seen, just a card reader and keypad. Ari pulled the pass from his pocket and handed it to me.
“Do I just put it in the reader?” I asked as my doubts about the security resurfaced.
“Put the card in, and when the light blinks green, you enter the code,” Ari explained. “You’ll have thirty seconds to enter the correct code. After that, it alerts the security office.”
“What’s the code?” I prompted as I slipped the card into the reader.
“Zero-seven-two-nine-zero-four,” Ari replied.
I tapped in the numbers, and the green light turned white. The lock on the door snicked and Ari threw the door open.
“Welcome home,” he announced as he stepped inside.
It was nicer than I expected for a corporate apartment. The walls carried on the blue theme, and the furniture had been carefully chosen to match. There was an interesting print behind the sofa that reminded me vaguely of a Magritte and an area rug that invited bare feet. He hadn’t exaggerated about the TV either. It occupied most of the wall across from the sofa.
The high point was definitely the balcony. It wasn’t very large, just enough room for the tiny table and a chair, but the view of the city was spectacular. It wasn’t that hard to picture myself out here, beer in hand, basking in the last of the sun’s rays at the end of a hard day at work.
“So what do the numbers mean?” I asked as we stepped onto the balcony.
“July 29th, 2004,” Ari hinted.
I racked my brain and came up with nothing.
“Sometimes you really disappoint me,” Ari sighed when it was clear that I didn’t have the answer. “Green Day at the Grand Olympic. The unofficial start of the American Idiot tour.”
“Jesus of Suburbia,” I said quickly. The album, American Idiot, had recast Green Day from Clash wanna-be’s into rock legends. The character of Jesus of Suburbia had defined what it meant to be an American kid growing up in a millennial world.
“Yep,” Ari agreed. “Must have been amazing to be a part of that.”
“Like your parents would have let you go,” I teased.
“True,” Ari sighed. “But then they still thought disco was alive and well.”
We laughed and stepped back inside. We each took a spot on the sofa and Ari found the remote hidden in a side-table drawer. He clicked it on, and we watched the first few minutes of Judge Judy.
“So what do you need help with?” Ari asked.
“Don’t you have your own cases to work on?” I shot back.
“Eh, they’re not as interesting as yours. And there aren’t any hot chicks involved either. Mostly just a bunch of old, white guys with too much money.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I replied.
“If it means I can spend some time around the magnificent Sofia Calderon, I won’t complain,” Ari assured me.
“We need to prove that the yakuza are controlling the company,” I said. “We’ll ask for the ledgers, of course, and the company email accounts. Shipping orders and spreadsheets. What else do I need to see?”
“Most companies record all phone calls these days,” Ari mused. “I would ask for any tapes. I’m guessing someone slipped up and had a conversation on one of the company phones that they should have had on their cell phone. It happens more often than you would think.”
“That’s good,” I agreed. “I’ll check with Anna and see if she knows for sure.”
“Wire transfers are always a winner,” Ari continued. “Especially small amounts from places like the Caymans or China. Routine payments just below the reporting amount can lead to some pretty big fish.”
“Won’t those show up in the ledgers?”
“But not with a lot of detail,” Ari replied. “The real information will be on the wire transfers themselves.”
“Got it. Anything else?”
“Personal expense accounts are always helpful,” Ari noted. “You’d be surprised what you can learn from someone’s Visa bill.”
“That’s true,” I agreed as I thought back to the American Express bill that Fatima had handed to me. We certainly had enough to hang Kurzak with that one.
“Oops, I’ve got to go,” Ari announced as he glanced at his watch. “Don’t want to
be late for a first date.”
“Someone from the office,” I asked, “Or someone you met at the grocery store?
“It wasn’t the grocery store,” Ari said defensively as he stood up. “It was the dry cleaners.”
I walked him to the door, reassured him that I could remember the code, then returned to the sofa and Judge Judy. I was tempted to stay there for the rest of the night, but I had no clean clothes for the morning. In fact, I had no toothbrush, no razor, and no food. I walked into the kitchen just to check, but all I found was a box of off-brand coffee grounds. Since the only coffee-maker I could find used those little cups, the bag of grounds seemed especially cruel.
I decided to call Anna before battling the traffic to Van Nuys. She didn’t pick up before the voicemail kicked in, so I waited twenty minutes and tried again.
“Sorry,” she said when she answered. “I was on the phone with Kurzak.”
“He can’t talk to you,” I declared. “You have an attorney.”
“I’m also still a shareholder,” she pointed out. “We have to discuss business.”
“Just tell me you won’t do it again,” I sighed.
“I won’t,” she agreed. “I really didn’t say anything to him. I just let him ramble on about how he always looked up to dad, and how he always wanted to be just like dad. Then he asked me to drop the suit and said he would take care of me. It started to get pretty creepy towards the end.”
“Did he threaten you in any way?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Just lots of talk about being family.”
“Huh,” was all I could manage.
“What’s your day been like?” she asked.
“Let’s see,” I said as I tried to organize my thoughts into a coherent story. “You know I met with the FBI. Agent Smart didn’t guarantee that anyone would testify, but she didn’t discount it either. Apparently, the FBI has been tracking the Mizuchi for some time, and I get the feeling that they have their own plans in motion to take him down. We didn’t step into the middle of it, exactly, but they’re worried that we might step on a few toes.”
“Will they try to call us off?”
“Not yet,” I replied. “Right now, they want to see what we turn up.”
“Nice,” Anna said.
“But that’s only the beginning,” I told her. “When I got back to the office, I found out someone had attacked Sofia and trashed the place. Luckily, two of the regulars from the burrito place went upstairs to check on her.”
“Oh, my God,” Anna blurted out, “Is she all right?”
“They took her to the ER for some scans,” I said. “Her mother assures me she’s okay but they’re keeping her overnight for observation.”
“I need to call her,” Anna asserted. “Maybe I should go visit.”
“Her family’s there,” I pointed out as I tried to bury the sudden twinge of guilt I felt when I realized that I hadn’t called Sofia yet. “She’ll be overwhelmed with people as it is.”
“Okay,” Anna replied, though she sounded a bit dubious.
“So, now I’m sitting in a corporate apartment my friend Ari arranged for me,” I concluded. “I have to drive back to Van Nuys to pick up a few essentials but this is where I’ll be camping out for the next month.”
“Poor baby,” Anna cooed sympathetically.
“It has two bedrooms,” I added. “You could stay here if you’re not comfortable at the house.”
“And leave Heath?” Anna laughed. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m okay. I haven’t seen anyone hanging around and I’ve been avoiding all of my usual places. I also do all my work from home, so really, I’m not that easy to find.”
“If you change your mind, there’s room for both of you,” I cajoled.
“You’re very sweet,” Anna sighed. “But I’m good.”
After I ended the call with Anna, I decided to try Sofia’s number. Someone answered the phone, but at first, all I heard was an odd scratching sound and a PA system in the background.
“Hello?” I called out.
“Hey, Vince,” came Theo’s voice. I almost didn’t recognize it, it was so subdued.
“Theo,” I replied. “How’s Sofia doing?”
“She’s okay,” Theo stated. “Mom went home to look after grandma, so Sofia just bullied one of the nurse’s into letting her get food from the cafeteria instead of eating what they brought her.”
“Is the cafeteria food really any better?” I asked curiously.
“They got a Subway,” Theo said noncommittally.
“Would you let her know I called?” I asked.
“Sure. You want her to call you back?”
“No, that’s okay,” I replied. “Tell her to get some rest, and I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
“She’s checking out in the morning,” Theo warned me. “The doctor’s put in a few stitches but that’s it. Actually, she’s already threatening to leave tonight, and with mom not here, she just may do it.”
“Well, keep me updated,” I said.
“Hey, Vince,” Theo called out before I could disconnect.
“Yeah, Theo?”
“Do you know these guys?”
“Maybe,” I hedged.
“You gonna take care of them?” An angry tone had seeped into Theo’s voice with that question.
“I’m planning on it,” I replied.
“Because if you don’t, we will,” Theo warned me. Theo hung up then, and I was left staring at my phone. I knew the Calderon brothers were protective, but I’d never really appreciated just how protective they were before now.
The two phone calls had stoked a few embers of my slow-burning anger, and I decided to call Kurzak again. If nothing else, I could warn him not to talk to my client again unless I was present.
I dialed the office number first on the off-chance he was still there. After all, I was just making a professional courtesy call, one attorney to another. No reason to take any of this personally. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
“ArDex Shipping, how may I direct your call?” a pleasant voice asked.
“Fatima?” I asked as soon as I recognized the voice.
“Mr. Creed,” she replied in that same professional, silky voice. There was absolutely no hint that we’d ever spent more than thirty seconds in each other’s presence before.
“Is Mr. Kurzak available?” I tried to keep my voice as bland as hers.
“I’m afraid he’s in a meeting right now. May I take a message?”
“Any idea when he might be done?” I queried.
“I’m afraid I don’t have that information,” she replied. After the briefest of hesitations, she added, “He does have a dinner reservation tonight. He was planning to leave here in about forty-five minutes.”
“I’ll call tomorrow, then,” I said, mindful of Ari’s warning about recorded phone calls.
I had just enough time to get to ArDex. I didn’t have a firm plan, just a vague idea that I wanted to know where Kurzak was going. I’d take a quick look, then head to Van Nuys to pick up my necessities.
Kurzak was a good fifteen minutes late leaving for his dinner reservation, and his angry features were a study in frustration. He was in a hurry, and his driving was proof of that. He made a rolling stop as he left the parking lot and barreled through a few yellow lights once he was under way. I followed along in the Caddy, and I just chalked it up to Kurzak’s preoccupation with his dinner that he didn’t notice the skull-covered car that was keeping pace.
Kurzak left his car with the valet at a popular downtown restaurant, one of those places with deconstructed food and small portions. I found an SUV pulling out of a spot just down the street and slipped the Caddy’s nose into the spot before the waiting Prius could claim it. The Prius’s driver honked at me, and I gave him a shrug. I saw the SUV driver laugh and he gave me a quick thumbs up before he drove away.
I crossed the street and walked into the restaurant. The hostess smiled at me as I stopped
to look around.
“There’s an hour wait for a table,” she said, the smile still plastered on her face.
“I’m just looking for a friend,” I replied. “I think he had a reservation, so he’s probably at one of your tables.”
“What’s your friend’s name?” she asked sceptically. The smile had left her face and I guessed that she was worried that I was trying to cut the line.
“Joseph Kurzak.”
“Okay,” she said as she made a show of checking the reservations list. “Mr. Kurzak and his guest are here. But it’s a table for two only.”
“I’m not staying,” I reassured her. “I just have something to tell him and then I’ll leave.”
The hostess still looked uncertain, so I flashed my most winning smile. She gave me an odd look that I couldn’t quite define, and then I remembered the nose. Tattoo man had a lot to answer for.
A boisterous couple came in behind me, and the hostess turned her attention to them. They announced their reservation loudly enough for everyone waiting outside to hear. The hostess gave them a reassuring smile and then guided them to their table. I waited until the hostess was deep enough into the restaurant that she wouldn’t see me and slipped inside.
The place was packed and very noisy. I scanned the closest tables, but they were all large groups of apparently very happy people. I saw a waiter with a full tray slip through a curtained doorway and realized there was probably another dining area. The hostess was heading back my way, so I scurried to the curtain and peeked inside.
This was a much quieter room. There were only a few tables, all set for no more than four people. The guests were much less rowdy as well. Conversations were held in hushed tones and only when there was no food on the table. I spotted Kurzak near the far wall. He was sitting with a Japanese man, but not one that I recognized. Their conversation looked intense.
I slipped just inside the curtain and checked my phone. At some point, I had downloaded an app for recording but I hadn’t used it in a while. I scrolled through as quickly as I could and hoped that no one wondered why I was just standing there. Finally, I found the app I wanted and turned it on. I kept the phone in my hand, like any member of the fashionable elite.
