Gibson & Clarke (Failed Justice Series Book 2)

by Rick Santini

  Drugs were the answer.

  Sex, drugs, and rock n roll was the prevailing theme.

  “I was only too happy to provide the drugs. In a few short years, I would have enough money to send for my parents and Mei Ling. Things took longer than I thought. By the time I had enough money, I had learned the plague had taken my parents far too soon and Mei Ling was in some unknown charity hospital.”

  Here his voice seemed even lower and more respectful.

  “I tried everything. No one knows this, but I actually went back to my home province to look for her. I was little more than a teenager, but I refused to give up hope. I was told there were no records—most children had died or merely wandered off. After close to two months, I gave up. I ran out of money and hope and strength. I was sure a cruel god had done this to me. I returned to America with one goal in mind. Revenge. To make money, lots of money, to compensate for my loss.”

  Here Xiang stopped, as if to apologize for his ramblings.

  “I am sorry to subject you to the insecurities and weaknesses of an old man. Please, try some of the brown rice dumplings with a special sauce prepared by my chef.”

  The mood was broken. Xiang seemed five to ten years older. The transformation was remarkable. Marta did not comment. It was getting late, and she did not want to seem impolite, but the next day was a work day.

  Xiang sensed her anxiety, put out his pipe, and rang for the chauffeur, who had his own room over the garage.

  “It is late, and I know you have to be in court early. I will have Jabor drive you home. I hope you were not disappointed by my behavior, and I do look forward to spending time with you again.”

  With that, Xiang bowed deeply and led Marta to the front door.

  How did he know I am due in court at nine thirty in the morning?

  “I had a wonderful time and look forward to your next invitation.”

  Without thinking, she bent down and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

  Why did I do that?

  Xiang smiled again and stood as straight as his body allowed.

  The blue Chevy sedan was long gone.

  CHAPTER 30

  Rik was sitting at his desk, staring at some old file in front of him. He did not raise his head until Marta walked by his cubicle and offered a polite “Good morning.”

  “Is there anything special you would like me to work on today, Ms. Clarke?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is. It appears one of our favorite clients, Sonny Bananas, is a target of a federal investigation. Please call Jack and ask him what you can do. You still have some sources with the Feds, don’t you? There is no need for strict formality in the office. You may call me Marta if you like.”

  “Thank you, Marta.”

  “You’re welcome. If you have a minute, I would like to speak with you in my office in private.”

  It was not a request. Rik stood up and followed her.

  “Close the door, please. I’ve been thinking about our last conversation.”

  Rik smiled. He was becoming optimistic.

  “There is no reason why our decision not to see each other socially should affect our business relationship. From now on, I will treat you like any other employee, but as far as anything else, it’s over. One hundred percent over.”

  Rik could not believe his ears. Surely she had to be joking. Not after their last love-making session. One look at her sitting behind her desk told him she wasn’t. He couldn’t stop himself. Without thinking, he blurted it out.

  “You’re dumping me so you can fuck that old man. That rich Chinese guy you spent last night with.”

  “What? What did you say?”

  “You heard me. I followed you last night. I left close to eleven, and you were still there with him. Alone. All the servants were given the night off. I know what’s going on. I’m no idiot.”

  “Yes, you are an idiot. I slept in my own bed last night, alone, not that it’s any of your damn business. And you’re fired. As of right now. Get your shit and get out of here. If you ever follow me again, if I ever see you near my home, the office, or the home of my friends, I will see your PI badge is pulled. Permanently. Now get out of here.”

  Marta was beside herself with fury. She couldn’t believe Rik or anyone was spying on her—and thinking she was sleeping with Xiang.

  The thought of her and Xiang was not as repulsive as she would have guessed.

  Rik had blown it, and he knew it. There was not a damn thing he could do. He should have waited a little while longer. He should have kept his damn mouth shut. He should have controlled his emotions. He had done none of the things a good detective should have done.

  And now he was paying for it. Big time.

  No one treats me like yesterday’s leftovers and gets away with it. That bitch doesn’t know who she is dealing with. No one.

  Rik was talking to himself, but was ready to have the entire world know it.

  ***

  “We need to find a new PI. I just fired Rik.”

  For some reason, Billy Jo was not surprised. He had guessed they were sleeping together, and it was only a matter of time before there was a blowup and the employer fired the employee.

  You never eat where you fart.

  Billy was not about to ask why. Marta had a need to tell him. To get it out of her system.

  “He’s been spying on me. Last night, Mr. Yeung invited me over to discuss some legal matters in private. This morning, Rik wanted to know why I was at his home in the early evening. Like it is any of his damn business.”

  Billy was not sure all the facts were correct, but if Marta wanted him gone, he was gone.

  “Looks like we’re going to have to replace him soon. Business is piling up. Sorry it didn’t work out.”

  What the hell does he mean by that?

  “It was a mistake from the very beginning. PIs are a dime a dozen. Shouldn’t take that long to replace him.”

  “Make sure you change all the security codes.”

  Marta had not thought of that.

  “Right.”

  Marta was aware she had not been thinking clearly for the past few days. Her mind was on Xiang Yeung. It made no sense.

  I’ve got to get him off my mind. But how?

  She was trying to visualize Xiang as some older protector, maybe a father figure, someone to call when she needed good advice, but couldn’t. Her feelings for him were mixed. At times they were not that of a daughter and father. She thought about all the times she had wished her own father had been there for her—but hadn’t been. He had been too busy with his other lady friends or too drunk to make it home many nights.

  Marta recalled when she was accepted to college and the first person she wanted to tell was her father. But he was nowhere to be found. At least not until the bottle was empty or the wallet was bare. That’s when he came home to Mama.

  It was about the same time that she quit on men. They were dishonest and could not be trusted to live up to their end of a bargain. She knew then, there was only one person she could rely on. Herself.

  Never let a man know you need him. Never trust a man to do the right, the decent thing. Never allow yourself to be vulnerable. It will always come back and bite you in the ass.

  Marta wondered if this was true regarding Xiang.

  Without realizing it, Marta began rubbing herself. It was an unconscious reflex when thinking about men in general and how she got as much pleasure from masturbation than from any one man.

  A knock on her door brought her back to the present. It was Miranda with some letters that had to be signed. She smoothed out her skirt and tried hard to focus.

  Her face was flushed.

  “Is everything all right, Marta?”

  “Nothing earth shaking. I had to fire Rik for personal reasons. He seemed to think my being friendly with him gave him privileges never intended. He should have known being polite was just good office policy.”

  Miranda said nothing. She had her suspicions abo
ut the two of them playing house, but it was none of her business.

  Marta was now thinking of Xiang. She wondered if he could please her. Then the thought came to her.

  He already has. Just not in the physical sense.

  CHAPTER 31

  I’ve got to be smart about it. I can’t lose my PI license. If I do, the sheriff would never take me back. Neither would any other law enforcement agency in the country.

  Rik did not have to be told the ramifications of getting caught ratting on his former boss, but damn it, his ego had been bruised. No, it had been crushed. No broad, former ADA or not, was going to get away with dumping him, especially for an old man. Rik thought of himself as God’s gift to women.

  So far, he really knew nothing. Sure Gibson and Clarke were representing drug dealers. Better make that alleged drug dealers. Nothing wrong with that. That’s the way the system worked. He had a feeling Marta’s relationship with Mr. Yeung was more than platonic, but again he could not prove it, and even if he could, so what? No law against sleeping your way to the top. Almost every successful politician in the country probably had. So what was his leverage?

  Today nothing. Tomorrow could be a different story.

  ***

  Rik had not been with the sheriff’s office long enough to be vested or entitled to pension funds. Sure, he had close to twenty thousand in the bank, but how long would that last him? He needed a job. A good paying job, and he couldn’t afford to wait for word to get out on the street he had been fired. Everyone would assume the worst, from getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar to fucking up on the job.

  Technically, neither was true.

  ***

  “My turn.”

  “I am afraid I don’t quite understand.”

  “It’s my turn to ask you out. Or more precisely, to have dinner with you at my place. There will be no servants, and I can’t promise you the meal will be up to your standards, but it will be homemade. That I can promise you.”

  Xiang did not know what to say. Obviously, he was pleased to hear from Ms. Clarke, uh Marta, but being invited to her home was totally unexpected. He had hoped the next time they met he could discuss his next move with Mei Ling.

  “I would be honored.”

  “Give me a day or two to prepare. Let’s say Friday, seven p.m. for drinks.” Marta hesitated for a moment and then blurted it out, “You may bring your pipe if you wish.”

  There was a silence on the phone as both contemplated what she just said. Was she giving him permission to get high with her again? Did she want to see the transformation again, or was she thinking it might be about time for her to experiment?

  Finally.

  “Thank you. I will see you Friday. What may I bring?”

  “Just you and your pipe. And whatever you put in it.”

  Marta hung up before she said something she could have regretted.

  ***

  Rik knew better than to stalk, but there was nothing illegal about driving by once an evening to see if Marta’s car was on the street, if her lights were on, and maybe, just maybe if she were home—alone. No laws against driving slowly on a public street.

  The very last thing he expected was to see the silhouette of Old Man China himself walking past the window. Rik pulled over, parked a few doors down, and crouched down in the left front seat. The moon was playing games with a few low hanging clouds, and the drapes were drawn, yet he was sure he saw Xiang Yeung.

  He checked to see if there was a parked limo or chauffeured sedan parked nearby. None. He knew Marta still had connections with the Newark PD and could not afford to be caught parking almost directly across from her place. He waited a few minutes, saw no movement, and most reluctantly left.

  Xiang was more than surprised when Marta poured the tea. He tasted and asked where she had gotten it. He was positive it was his special blend.

  “From your housekeeper. I promised I would not tell you the source. I do not want to get her in trouble.”

  “And you won’t. Thank you for the consideration. It was most kind of you.”

  “You deserve it. You are a very sweet man, and I enjoy making you happy.”

  “Maybe I can make both of us happy if you are willing to trust me. It is a request, not a condition. I want you to open your mind and explore what you are truly capable of doing.”

  Marta was not sure what he was asking her to do. Could he possibly mean sex?

  “I am always open to suggestions. I cannot promise anything, but I will listen with an open mind to anything you propose.”

  “I smoke a very mild form of a cocaine derivative. It is against the law but frees up my mind and soul so I am able to think outside my body without restraints. I think you would find the experience, uh, exciting. Perhaps welcoming. I would recommend a very small amount the first time. There is nothing to be frightened about, and of course, I will be sitting right next to you, in your own home.”

  He’s asking me to do drugs. Mind-altering, totally illegal drugs. This is not some joint the high school kids smoke in the lavatories. This is the big time. The stuff that lands you in jail for God knows how long. This is uncut and probably very high quality cocaine.

  “Maybe just one hit, that’s all.”

  “You will not be sorry. First we should have something to eat. There is no rush, my dear.”

  How the hell can I eat food when I just agreed to do coke? What am I doing? What the hell is wrong with me? What will happen to me afterwards? Why is he doing this, and why do I trust him so much?

  “If you think it is best.”

  “I do.”

  “Let me get you something to eat.”

  She was stalling and damn well knew it.

  “Thank you.” Xiang smiled as he contemplated dessert.

  CHAPTER 32

  Black Jack and Sonny were now planning strategy.

  Jack knew exactly what he was doing. Sonny did not.

  “Trust me.”

  “I do, but if you’re wrong, you feel bad the next day and I end up doing twenty to life. It’s my ass in the frying pan, not yours.

  “I totally understand. You know, you can always fire me. I will completely understand.”

  Sonny looked deep in Jack’s eyes to determine if he was bluffing. He knew Jack was the best there was at what he did and would never knowingly give him bad advice. Still, it was his skin, not the lawyer’s.

  “We’ll give it a try. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but if at any point I am uncomfortable, all bets are off.”

  “Agreed. Now can I call the US Attorney and set up an appointment for the three of us to meet. Completely off the record. No one will know, and there will be no record kept.”

  Sonny nodded. It was not the most encouraging nod Jack had ever seen.

  It was agreed the meeting would be on neutral territory. Well, sorta neutral. They would meet on the third floor of the law library in the Federal Courthouse in Foley Square in New York City. No one would be surprised to see the US Attorney in the building, and few people knew Jack Renaldo by sight. As for Sonny Bananas, he would be wearing sunglasses and a hat. It was not perfect but better than Jack and Sonny parading into the offices of a federal prosecutor.

  There would be no court stenographer and no written notes. If all went well, they would meet again. If not, they would also probably meet again, this time under far different circumstances.

  ***

  Billy felt comfortable in his new surroundings, both in his condo and office. He had learned a long time ago people love to associate with successful people, especially if they were not terribly successful themselves.

  My dad is bigger than your dad; my brother can beat up your brother; my lawyer gets more acquittals/is a bigger shyster than yours.

  Something like that.

  Billy knew very few of his clients would ever see the inside of his home, but everyone knows someone who swears they have seen the inside of it. Be it the cleaning lady, the caterer of his last part
y, or the landlord. Few people could tell fake art from the real thing. They believed what they wanted to believe. If Billy had a Picasso or a Jackson Pollock hanging on his wall, who was there to say it was a copy, not the original?

  If the ultra-modern furniture was a knockoff, rather than the original, there was really no one to dispute it. Billy was big on copies or replicas. Or fakes. If he could have purchased a Bentley with a Chevy engine and chassis, he would have bought it in a heartbeat. He did not need the real thing; all he needed was people to think it was the real thing.

  Perception is reality. That was his motto. In most cases, it worked.

  Billy’s new condo was furnished with knockoffs from the art work to the furniture, to the heavy silver-looking eating utensils on the fake teak-like dining room table. It could have been named Phony Baloney and not have been more accurate.

  He would be the first to admit, his life was a knockoff. He wanted to be a Clarence Darrow, Stephan Douglas, maybe Abe Lincoln himself, type lawyer. He wasn’t, he couldn’t, and he damn well knew it. The fact he was a highly successful lawyer in his own right was not enough. He constantly strived to be someone he could never be—someone other than Billy Jo Gibson, who grew up dirt poor, the only son of a miner in Wheeling, West Virginia. The only thing that covered the spoon in his mouth was coal dust.

  Billy Jo would achieve his goal or die trying. Probably the latter.

  For now, his new office was his number one priority. He didn’t care what it cost as long as it impressed. In the long run, actually not so long at all, the clients would be only too pleased to pay for it. They were buying success; they were buying an image, and that does not come cheap.