Gibson & Clarke (Failed Justice Series Book 2)

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Gibson & Clarke (Failed Justice Series Book 2) Page 8

by Rick Santini


  On 3 May 1983, US Army Staff Sergeant Clive Holster married a Mei Ling Yeung, Chinese National, in a civil ceremony on a military base in Shanghai, granting her automatic American citizenship. Four years and eleven months later, they were divorced in New York City. Mei Ling no longer uses her married name and is now a non-practicing lawyer in Manhattan and director of a program for abused Asian woman. She lives in the SoHo district. More information is unavailable at this time.

  Jack decided he would wait for what he had paid for. He would hold off telling Mr. Yeung until he had all the facts verified. Twice. Instead, he called Billy Jo, who in turn called Marta. He needed to talk to her to find out her mental state. He had the feeling she was a mess and overwhelmed by all that was going on.

  ***

  “I think we found her. She married an American G.I, moved to New York City, and divorced. Your typical Asian American love story. Only here’s where it gets interesting. She obtained scholarships to CCNY and NYU Law School. She passed the bar but never practiced. Now she’s the director of some abused women’s group and lives in the city. You need to send Rik to dig up as much dirt as possible in the next twenty-four hours.”

  Billy rested to let it all sink in.

  “Wow, that was fast. Who did we have to bribe? And how much?”

  “Don’t even ask. It’s done, and that’s all that matters. At least for now.”

  When Marta did not respond, Billy asked the next logical question. “How are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know damn well what I mean. You’re doing too much thinking, not a good sign. If you have one percent doubt about our partnership and who we’re representing, I need to know, right now.”

  Marta dreaded this moment. She had done nothing but think about it the last few days, the last few hours, the last few minutes. Now it was time to put up or shut up. She paused to relax herself. She honestly did not know what to say. She could stall no longer.

  “I’m in, damn it. I’m in. As Black Jack so eloquently said the other night, ‘fuck the Feds.’”

  Billy also took a deep breath.

  “Thank you. You will not regret this decision. I promise you.”

  I think I regret it already.

  “I appreciate your patience with me, Billy Jo. I appreciate everything you have done for me from the time you bought me dinner and asked we form a new law firm. It’s going to work. You can bet your sweet ass on that one.”

  “Let’s kick some butt, girl.”

  ***

  The report was sitting on Marta’s desk by noon the following day. Rik had to have worked eighteen hours straight to get all the facts in order. Mei Ling leased a large studio apartment in SoHo. She was, in fact, the director of an organization for Asian women. She had never remarried, and according to neighbors, was not dating. Her sole focus was on her work. She was described as shy but dedicated and determined.

  Most determined.

  Rik was hoping to have some candid photos in the next twelve to twenty-four hours. Now he needed six hours’ sleep and he would be back in the Big Apple. He had hired two private eyes he had worked with before to camp out at her loft apartment and her office. He personally would be within shouting distance of Mei Ling to verify all.

  Marta was more than pleased. She could not wait to tell Billy Jo.

  “Let me get Jack on the speakerphone. No sense having to repeat it, and we can then decide how to handle it.”

  Billy was trying to be diplomatic. Marta understood.

  Black Jack sat and listened. He waited until Marta had read the full report before he began asking questions. In the end, they decided to wait until Rik had actual photos and double checked every single fact. Then and only then would they meet with Mr. Yeung. There could be no screw-ups. None.

  “We all agree. I should have the photos by noon tomorrow. Then we can set up an appointment with our client.”

  ***

  “Mr. Yeung, we have some good news for you. We have located your sister, Mei Ling. When would you like us to meet with you?”

  Xiang was thrilled. He was ecstatic. He was beyond words.

  “As soon as you can come to my home. I will have my driver there in thirty minutes. Now, I must have a cup of tea and try to relax.”

  “I will be there alone, but my two partners did most of the work. Here are their phone numbers. I would like you to arrange to Skype them while I’m there so they may explain everything. Bye.”

  Xiang realized he was soaked with sweat. His blood pressure had to be off the wall. He ordered his bath be drawn and a pot of tea be made. He needed to prepare himself as best he could.

  I will finally learn about Mei Ling, my baby sister. This will be the happiest day of my life.

  Marta had consulted her two partners as to the best way to present the news. They all agreed, first the photos then the narrative.

  ***

  The two of them sat in the garden like old friends discussing the weather or planning the next cocktail party. Xiang made it clear; he was to be disturbed by no one—under any circumstances. The staff totally understood. After tea had been poured and they each took a sip, Marta opened her briefcase and removed a dozen candid photos, all taken in the past twenty-four hours. They were all black and white ten-by-twelve blowups of the same woman in various locations. All in New York City. She said nothing as she spread them out on the table.

  Xiang could hardly hold them up his hands were shaking so much.

  “She’s so beautiful. Like a porcelain doll.” He hesitated for a minute. “And she is so old.”

  “We are all older, Mr. Yeung. Remember, you were fourteen the last time you saw her. You are now considerably older.”

  “Where were these pictures taken and when?”

  “All within the past twenty-four hours. Mostly yesterday. All in New York City. In front of her loft apartment and the clinic where she is the director. By the way, she married a G.I., divorced a few years later, and went on to graduate NYU Law School. She is an attorney but does not practice. Here are all the reports I was able to produce in such a short time. What you do with them is obviously your business, but I strongly suggest you move very slowly. You are not her favorite type of person. She may not want to see or speak to you. I would be pleased to serve as a conduit if you would like.”

  It took Xiang a few seconds to comprehend the meaning of what Marta was delicately attempting to convey.

  He was a drug dealer. He was, in fact, the New York/New Jersey distributor for cocaine, and she was running a clinic for those who were hooked and whose lives were all but wasted. Not a great combination.

  “I think I need to be alone. I owe you a great deal, Ms. Clarke. More than you can ever imagine, but for now, I must meditate. Please accept my apologies for lunch. Another time I promise. My driver will take you home. Please extend my thanks to Mr. Gibson and Mr. Renaldo.”

  Xiang snapped his fingers, and his driver mysteriously appeared.

  “Take your time, Mr. Yeung. After all these years, there should be no rush. My cell phone is on twenty-four seven. Do not hesitate to call at any hour. Good luck to you, sir.”

  Xiang did not hear her. He was lost in his memories. He suddenly felt like an old man. A very humble and tired old man.

  CHAPTER 20

  “Well, what happened? How did he take it?”

  “As expected. The real question is, what does he do next?”

  Billy had been waiting for the phone to ring. He put Jack on a conference call so the conversation would not have to be repeated. Marta attempted to relay not only the words but the tone of voice and facial expressions. She was keeping her fingers crossed. It could go either way.

  “Do you think we should alert Ms. Ling her brother knows where she is?” Marta asked.

  “Are you crazy? Not if you want to keep a client, let alone live for another day. Why in the world would you make a stupid suggestion like that?”

  Marta wasn’t sure she had
an answer. At least none any man would understand.

  ***

  Rik submitted a supplemental report two days later. Information from friends, colleagues, and neighbors that gave a much broader picture. One that could affect everything. Marta was almost afraid to share it—with anyone. The ladies in her clinic were her family. The only family she had known in the past thirty years. She was not one to forgive or forget. After her uncontested divorce, there were no assets. She made it her personal vendetta to make sure her ex-husband would never treat any woman like he treated her. It was rumored, but never proven, that someone had thrown acid in his face, thereby creating ugly scars and deformed features no woman could ever look at.

  Although he was never charged with promotion of prostitution, a victim’s report was filed with the sex crimes unit of the NYPD. Mei Ling was sure at least one maggot would no longer threaten other women. As for drugs, this was an ongoing battle. The street venders, the dealers, the distributors, had no idea how many lives they had ruined. Not only the users, but their unborn babies and the unspeakable things some women did to supply their insatiable habit. They lost all ties and responsibilities with their children and families. They lived day-to-day for their next fix.

  All the dealers saw was profit. Money. To buy fancy cars and toys and bling. Loss of human life was an unfortunate byproduct. Mei Ling devoted her entire being to eradicating these vultures. Now she had learned her own brother, her only living relative, was the king pin.

  Not for long, not for long, Mei Ling silently vowed.

  The more the realization grew, the greater the hate for the one man responsible.

  After reading Rik’s report for the second time, Marta realized her allegiances were torn. Not a good thing for a lawyer. There was no question that legally and ethically speaking her allegiance, her only allegiance, had to be to her client, Xiang Yeung. She also had great sympathy for a woman she had never met, never looked deep in her eyes or felt her hurt, the one person in the world she should avoid feelings for, her client’s sister, Mei Ling.

  For the hundredth time in the past week, Marta had the same conversation with herself. It was becoming not only repetitious but served no useful purpose.

  Why the fuck did I ever get involved in this mess? How did it happen, and how do I resolve my internal conflict?

  Marta knew there was no answer, at least not in the foreseeable future.

  ***

  Everyone was becoming aware that Sonny Bananas and Mr. Yeung were taking up ninety-nine percent of their time and effort. For all practical purposes, the two gentlemen were their only paying clients. No one was objecting to the initial retainer by Yeung. It would carry them for the next year at least. Billy thought now would be a good time to approach Salvatore about financial arrangements. He called Black Jack and asked if he wanted to be present.

  “Are you kidding me, partner? I wouldn’t miss it for the world. When we get finished with Mr. Bananas, he won’t feel so ripe anymore. In fact, his insides may turn to mush.”

  Jack was proud of himself for slipping in the obvious metaphors. Billy groaned silently. An appointment was set for the end of the week in the Newark law office. Psychologically speaking, it was the right move.

  ***

  In the middle of everything else, ADA Ronnie Rosenthal called. He wanted to set up a pre-trial conference on the Tao Fung matter. He mentioned he was preparing for a murder one trial and didn’t want to clutter his desk with a simple “possession, with intent to sell” case. Marta knew damn well the DA would never assign a capital case to Ronnie.

  He was getting nervous and wanted out.

  “I appreciate the offer, but my client has a winning case. You might want to check with the arresting officer and find out what he did with all the evidence. Probably not a bad idea to check the officer’s personal savings account. Any big deposits since the bust? You might also want to check the evidence room to verify what you actually have. No, there will be no plea bargaining. In fact, we want to go to trial. That way we can later sue the city, the police department, the arresting officer, maybe even you, for a few hundred thousand. Have a great day, Ronnie.”

  Marta could only imagine the look on his face when she hung up on him. She knew damn well the office of the district attorney could never be sued, but it put another thought in his mind.

  Let the little prick sweat for a while.

  She had other things to do, like getting ready for the meeting with Sonny.

  ***

  “Thanks for meeting us on such short notice, Sonny.”

  “My pleasure, I’m sure.”

  Black Jack decided to take the lead. So far, he had the most rapport with Mr. Bonnonnos.

  “Sonny, as you know, we are very proud you selected us to represent you and your family. In fact, that is the only reason I decided to come out of retirement is to represent you. Now…”

  Sonny interrupted, as usual. “Youse don’t have to hit me over the head with a crowbar. This little get together is to see how much you can squeeze outa me. Am I right?”

  “I’m not sure I would put it that way, but nuthin’ for nuthin’.”

  “I gots you covered. I knows youse guys don’t come cheap. I gots what you want right here.”

  Sonny reached down and pulled out a fair-sized suitcase.

  “Inside is a check for two hundred thousand made payable to the firm and another two fifty in cash. A half a mill should cover the freight for a while. I promise I’ll try and be a good boy. Now what else youse want to talk about? The weather, the stock market, the fucking Mets?”

  Jack looked at Billy. Billy nodded to Marta.

  “I think that about covers it. By the way, the firm thanks you for your understanding and again allowing us to represent you.”

  “Youse guys do a good job and we have no problems. If not, it’s the East River in cement boots for all three of you.”

  Sonny looked at the fright on their faces.

  “It was only a joke. Only a joke. We don’t do that sorta thing—not anymore. “

  “Have a nice trip home, Sonny. Don’t get any speeding tickets. The retainer only goes so far.”

  Sonny stared at the three of them.

  “It was only a joke, Sonny. Only a joke.”

  After Sonny left, the conference room door was locked and the cash was dumped on the table. It took close to an hour for all three to count it. It came to exactly two hundred fifty thousand dollars in cold, hard cash.

  This time, it was Jack who asked the naïve question. “What do we do with the cash?” He had not been made aware of the last cash transaction. It was before he had become a partner, and the money was resting comfortably in a Gibson and Clarke client escrow account.

  Marta was beginning to feel her old self.

  “Either we can go out and have one hell of a party, buy a few keys of heroin, or call the police and have them escort us over to our bank for deposit in a new Gibson, Clarke, and Renaldo escrow account. You tell me?”

  Billy decided to join in the fun.

  “I vote we buy as many keys of H as we can, step on it at least twice, and triple our money. Just don’t mention it to Sonny.”

  Jack froze. Marta picked up the phone, called the local precinct, and stuffed the cash back in the suitcase Sonny had purposely left behind.

  “I vote we each give ourselves a twenty-five-thousand-dollar cash bonus. There are some things I need and don’t want to charge. Any objections?”

  She looked at her two partners, who were both wondering what she was going to buy.

  “Thanks,’” Marta politely replied.

  CHAPTER 21

  Xiang sat in the garden till late into the night. As instructed, no one bothered him. Finally at 10:45, far past his normal bedtime, his housekeeper came out with some sandwiches and a fresh pot of tea.

  “It is very late, sir. I thought you might be hungry. May I bring these up to your room, or should I leave them here?”

  The housekeeper
also brought a warm blanket that she gently laid around his shoulders. He looked older than she had ever seen him before. He looked frail. He looked like if she touched him, he would break like a fine piece of China.

  Xiang flicked the back of his hand as if to say, “Leave me alone.” The photos and preliminary report were still where Ms. Clarke had left them. He was afraid if he touched them, something terrible would happen to him. Or to Mei Ling.

  How did this happen? What deity did I offend? What do I do now?

  Xiang took a few sips of the hot tea, closed his eyes, and decided he could not deal with it now. He fell asleep in his chair.

  The housekeeper who had been watching him from a kitchen window signaled a few men to go out, gently lift the chair, and carry Mr. Yeung to his own bed after removing his shoes only and covering him with his own blanket.

  It was sometime in the middle of the night when Xiang woke in a sweat from a horrible nightmare. He did not recall everything, but he remembered his parents forcing him to leave the house and telling Mei Ling to never look at him again. He had done something to disgrace the family and was forbidden to ever return to his home again.

  Xiang began to plead and cry. He was sorry and would never do whatever it was again.

  The voice told him it was too late.

  Xiang knew exactly what it was. Now he had to make up for it. He would contact Mei Ling in the morning. Whatever she said, he would do. Gladly.

  For the balance of the night, Xiang laid in bed and thought of what he had done for the last forty years. Sleep never came.

  ***

  “What kind of shit did you pull? I’ll have you arrested for tampering with evidence. I will take you to the bar association. I will have your ticket. You won’t get away with this—I promise you that.”

 

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