The Benefactor

by Don Easton

  Anh knew when the car’s back tires finally bounced and spit her out the back that she was dead and had turned to Cong and told him to calm down. He said it was no big deal.

  Anh was pleased that the comment was not lost on Cong, who later chatted excitedly to Tom Nguyen as he described every detail, including Anh’s prowess as a driver. Anh purposely added little to the conversation and pretended to brush it off as being hardly worthy of discussion.

  Tom Nguyen had praised him on a job well done. It was his first murder, but Anh hid the excitement he felt and hoped his reputation for being cool would soon reach the ears of the truly big bosses.

  Today he did his best not to appear excited again when Vien Ngo gave him a .38-calibre Smith & Wesson revolver, along with a rolled-up bundle of cloth that held a plastic bag containing crack cocaine. The details of the murder were simple but deadly. The victim, belonging to a rival gang, was going to be murdered near the border of the territory of yet a third gang. The drugs found in his car would make it look like he was there to sell drugs and subsequently murdered by the third gang.

  Anh understood the potential consequences of such an action. The two gangs — living under a tentative peace agreement — might decide to go to war with each other. Will my own gang then step in to pluck what is left when the other two gangs have been weakened?

  He glanced at Vien Ngo and solemnly realized the great position of trust in which he had been placed. If word of what really happened ever leaked out, both gangs might decide to unite against his gang. Secrecy was of the utmost importance.

  Anh was told to go to an alley behind a strip mall where he would be met by someone who would give him further instructions and supply a stolen car to go to transport him to the victim. The hit, he was told, would be easy. The victim rented a parking stall on a monthly basis and parked his car every day at the same time to start work at noon. He would not be expecting anything and could be shot in the head at close range.

  “Who will I be meeting behind the strip mall to get the stolen car?” Anh asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Vien frowned. “I was told that for security reasons, it is best I do not know or that you ever say. I only know that it is someone you will know and who knows your car. I must warn you. Be absolutely certain that you are not being followed. The police may have you on their radar. You are supposed to be at the strip mall by nine-thirty, but if there is any suspicion that you are being followed, cancel the plan and return here.”

  Anh drove in a manner to detect surveillance. His destination was out in Surrey, but most of the traffic was going into Vancouver at this time of the morning. After speeding down a few alleys and driving through quiet neighbourhoods, he was confident that his assignment would not need to be cancelled.

  At nine-thirty, he pulled into an alley behind a small strip mall and parked. Minutes later, he gasped when he recognized the man who walked up to his car. Despite the ball cap and glasses he was wearing, Anh recognized him. It was Hieu, who was one of the personal bodyguards for Dong Tran, the godfather of Vietnamese criminals in Vancouver.

  Anh already knew his mission was crucial, but the sight of Hieu made it difficult to remain calm. Dong Tran himself must know I have been selected for this mission …

  Anh reached for the door handle, but a gesture from Hieu told him to stay where he was and wind his window down.

  “You brought the drugs?” asked Hieu, tersely.

  Anh nodded.

  “Show me.”

  Anh reached under his seat and pulled out the bundle of cloth, which Hieu took from him, cautiously glancing around before unrolling it.

  “Good,” Hieu grunted. “And the gun?”

  “Also here,” said Anh, reaching under the seat. As he started to pull the gun out, he heard Hieu curse to himself as the plastic bag of rock cocaine fell from the cloth, bouncing off the dash and landing on the floor by Anh’s feet.

  “It is okay, it did not spill,” noted Anh. He gave a sideways glance at Hieu as he leaned down to pick it up with his other hand.

  In a fraction of a second, Anh realized who the murder victim was to be and his mouth gaped open as the muzzle flashed on the 9mm semi-automatic Glock pistol held by Hieu. It was at point-blank range. The bullet entered Anh’s skull above his left eye and spewed blood, brain matter, and pieces of skull out of the right side of his head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Connie walked into the office of her immediate superior, Staff-Sergeant Randy Hundt. She knew by the grim look on his face that the news was not good.

  “Think you may want to take this one,” said Randy. “A guy shot to death in his car behind a strip mall here in Surrey about half an hour ago. The car is registered to one of the guys you’re naming in your wiretap.”

  “Anh Dang!” exclaimed Connie.

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Son of a bitch,” growled Connie. “The only other guy I had a glimmer of hope catching in the wiretap order was his boss, Tom Nguyen VC-3. I was counting on getting the two of them talking together. Nguyen flew to Hong Kong yesterday, along with his boss, Bien Duc VC-2. I don’t think I have a hope in hell of getting those two to talk on a wire. Duc has been around too long to pull a blunder like that.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Randy, shaking his head in sympathy. “I know you’ve been burning the midnight oil trying to get it done.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know why I even bothered to try and get wire with Jack involved,” grumbled Connie.

  “What’s he got to do with it? He’s the guy that busted this case wide open for you and gave you the names of those responsible.”

  Connie frowned. “I’ve worked on a lot of cases with him in the past. Every case ended up with more murders than I started with.”

  “Just a coincidence, I’m sure.” Randy said, shrugging.

  “Coincidence?” stammered Connie. “Don’t even get me started on that.”

  “Whatever, but you better get going. Forensics is already on their way.”

  After telling Boyle what happened, Connie called Roger Morris at AOCTF, requesting he meet her at the scene.

  “You going to call Jack Taggart, too,” grumbled Boyle, as he stood cracking his knuckles while Connie spoke with Roger.

  “Not yet,” replied Connie, when she hung up. “Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised if he already knows about it.”

  “I doubt he knows anything,” replied Boyle. “He would have called us if his so-called informant knew anything.”

  Connie gave Boyle a disgusted look and said, “You really don’t know Jack, do you?”

  “What’s there to know about the guy?”

  “It wasn’t Taggart I was referring to.”

  It was eleven-thirty in the morning when Jack hauled some wieners out of the fridge to barbecue for lunch. He glanced at Natasha, who was taking the condiments out, and said, “How about we feed the boys first tonight, then have a romantic dinner later in the dining room?”

  “Hoping to make up for all the hours you’ve been working?” asked Natasha.

  “Something like that,” admitted Jack.

  Natasha gave a pert smile. “You’re lucky I can’t grow a beard … but maybe I should quit shaving my legs.”

  Jack chuckled, but his mood changed when the conversation was interrupted by a call from his informant, Harry Ho.

  “Me and some of the guys were called in for a meeting with Vien Ngo a few minutes ago,” said Ho, speaking rapidly in a shrill voice. “He said that he was to be our new boss!”

  “Interesting,” said Jack. “Why are you so keyed up?”

  “There’s more to it! I asked what was happening with Tom, thinking maybe he got promoted. I was told that neither Tom nor Bien Duc would be coming back from Hong Kong.”

  “Neither one is coming back?” asked Jack, in surprise.

  “No … and we were told never to talk about either one of them again,” he added, pausing to take a couple of breaths before continuing. “I don’t
know what the reason is, if they screwed up … or if it has something to do with me telling you about them ordering the hit on that woman?”

  “Relax, I know you’re okay,” said Jack.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Do you think you would be alive if you weren’t?” asked Jack.

  “That’s not exactly comforting,” replied Ho, sounding angry.

  “Laura and I promised we would look after you. Trust us, we’ve been doing this for a while.”

  “But what about Tom and Bien Duc? Something is going on.”

  “We didn’t make them any promises,” replied Jack, tersely. “You have an agreement with us. They didn’t. I hope you’re not thinking of breaking our agreement?”

  “No! Never! Like, I’ll always be straight —”

  “Do you know where Anh Dang is right now?” interrupted Jack.

  “Uh … he wasn’t at the meeting, but Vien mentioned he sent him to deliver a parcel this morning.”

  “Dope?”

  “Yeah, that’s what Vien meant, but he didn’t say the word. When I left the Hanoi House, Anh hadn’t returned yet. Why are you interested in him?”

  “Leave the questions for me. Call me again if you see him,” added Jack, before hanging up.

  Natasha looked at Jack and sighed. “No romantic dinner?”

  “Sorry, Nat, gotta go.”

  “Me, too … and throw out my razor.”

  Jack gave an apologetic smile as he dialled Laura’s number.

  “Knowing it was you, I almost didn’t pick up,” said Laura, as soon as she answered.

  “Have you made plans for today?” asked Jack.

  “Yes … and you’re not invited. My guy just opened a present I bought for him.”

  “New razor blades?” asked Jack.

  “Yes. Were you stalking me?” joked Laura.

  “No,” sighed Jack. “Our friend called. Vien Ngo is his new VC-3. He was told that neither Tom Nguyen nor Bien Duc would be coming back from Hong Kong.”

  “Neither one? They whacked Nguyen as well?”

  “Sounds like it. The way my report was, I could see Bien Duc taking some heat, but I never expected anyone else to. We’re missing something. What the hell is so important? First of all, the Chinese want to appear to have had nothing to do with killing Betty Donahue. Then they knock off not only the one guy they may have thought was an informant, but two guys below him as well.”

  “And all without a logical reason for killing Betty Donahue to start with,” added Laura.

  “They thought they were killing her sister,” noted Jack. “The only reason I can come up with is to stop Mia Parker from getting a criminal record.”

  “That seems like a pretty lame motive for murder.”

  “I agree, which is why I think we’re missing something. If she is connected, she has to be more than some girlfriend.”

  “I feel like we’re farther behind than we were when we started.”

  “One thing we’ve learned is we need to be targeting the Chinese instead of the Vietnamese.”

  “Mia Parker aside, what about Duc and Nguyen being murdered in Hong Kong?” questioned Laura. “If this is over your report being leaked, we have another problem besides murder. The leak has to be identified.”

  “Last week Benny Wong CC-1 meets with Dong Tran VC-1, who then has a meeting with all his VC-2s except the one I name in my report. That VC-2 is then murdered, along with who he gave the orders to. Pretty obvious that the report was leaked to Wong and he passed it on. I don’t think there is any if about it.”

  “I could see from the wording that someone might suspect the VC-2 you named in your report as being the informant, but why kill the VC-3 below him?” Laura asked.

  “The only thing I can think of is they know we were on to him and decided to make sure he wasn’t caught and turned or given a plea bargain deal by testifying.”

  “Anh Dang was also named in your report.”

  “Exactly, which is why I’m calling.”

  “We better get out there and watch him,” sighed Laura.

  “If we’re not already too late,” replied Jack.

  Connie and Boyle watched as Roger Morris peered inside Anh’s car.

  “Don’t touch anything,” cautioned Boyle. “We’re waiting for Forensics.”

  “Yeah, which is why my hands are in my pockets,” noted Roger. “I don’t need some jackass like you to tell me that.”

  Boyle took a breath and was about to protest, but a glare from Connie caused him to change his mind, so he scowled and looked away.

  “So what do you think, Roger?” asked Connie.

  Roger stepped back and stroked his chin with his fingers for a moment. “A bag of dope and a gun. If it was a rip, why didn’t they grab the dope?”

  “It’s down by his feet,” noted Connie. “Also looks like he was going for a gun. Maybe whoever capped him panicked and took off. Might not have wanted to take the time to open the door and grab it. Or maybe —”

  “Or maybe Anh grabbed the dope and tried to do a rip,” interrupted Boyle. “The perp may have shot him and then panicked and ran.”

  “Which was what I was going to say before you interrupted me,” added Connie.

  Roger looked around and said, “Anh is way out of his territory.”

  “What are you getting at?” prodded Connie.

  “We’re standing on the border between two other gangs,” noted Roger. “It’s like no-man’s land. The Indos basically control the drug dealing on this side,” he said, with a wave of his hand, “and a gang comprised of Caucasians control the other side. If Anh was doing a dope deal, he could have been whacked by someone from either gang.”

  “Maybe explains why he was packing a piece,” replied Connie. She glanced at Boyle. “Go check with uniform. See if they’ve come up with any witnesses yet.”

  Once Boyle was out of earshot, Connie looked at Roger and said, “Sorry about Boyle. I’ll deal with him as soon as I can.”

  Roger shrugged. “I’m not pissed at you, so don’t worry about it.”

  “Thanks.” Connie gestured to the car. “So this looks like a simple gang hit? Anh got caught poaching in someone else’s territory?”

  “Looks that way. Makes me feel relieved,” said Roger.

  “Relieved?” asked Connie.

  Roger glanced around to ensure nobody was close enough to hear. “I’ve been concerned about a leak in my office,” he said, quietly. He gave a nod toward Boyle. “Last Friday that dumb-ass brought Jack’s report over. It was left lying around the office all weekend.”

  Connie shook her head. “That pecker-head was told that the report wasn’t to go anywhere without Jack’s permission. I reamed him out about it.”

  “Jack and Laura were watching Bien Duc VC-2’s house last Thursday. I’m sure the potential for a leak was on their minds as well.”

  “I didn’t realize they were watching him,” replied Connie. “Guess that figures. They did tell me they saw Duc and Nguyen fly to Hong Kong on Tuesday.”

  “Which adds credence that Anh’s murder had nothing to do with Jack’s report,” replied Roger. “If those two are okay, then I think Anh was caught poaching and paid the price.”

  Connie nodded in response. “Guess I better call Jack.” She glanced at Anh’s body and added, “Glad this wasn’t a result of what Boyle did … or Jack either, for that matter.”

  “Don’t blame Jack. Even if it was over his report being leaked, if anyone is to blame it’s me, for not finding the leak yet.”

  Connie glanced at Roger as she punched Jack’s numbers into her phone. Yeah? Well you don’t know Jack Taggart …

  Jack had barely hung up from talking to Laura when his phone rang. The call display told him it was Connie. He knew then that it was too late to watch Anh.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jack gave a grim smile as Connie talked to him on the phone, telling him that Anh Dang had been murdered. Too bad I wasn’t there to
watch it … Connie will be some upset if she knows I expected there to be consequences … sorry, Connie. Time to do a number on you …

  “Are you alone to talk?” said Jack, abruptly.

  “Can be,” she replied. “Roger just left. Forensics is arriving … let me walk away from the scene a bit … go ahead.”

  “Seconds before you called me … Jesus,” seethed Jack.

  “What is it? What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you what happened! I got a call from my informant telling me that Bien Duc VC-2 and Tom Nguyen VC-3 have likely been murdered in Hong Kong.”

  “Oh my God!”

  “My report had to have been leaked,” said Jack, vehemently. “Nine-thirty this morning Anh Dang gets whacked. Duc and Nguyen would have cleared customs in Hong Kong at about six-thirty this morning our time … and a few minutes ago my informant tells me they’re both toast. Do you have any doubt that it was because of my report?”

  “No … it, it would be too coincidental.”

  “The same report I told you not to release without my permission!” yelled Jack. “As a result, practically everyone I named in the report has been murdered!”

  “Jack … I’m sorry,” she spluttered.

  “Jesus Christ, Connie! You’re always blaming me for people dying! Maybe you better take a look at your own backyard before you start slinging shit!”

  “Jack, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “This is sickening,” griped Jack.

  “I, I know,” she mumbled. She felt the tears well up in her eyes and didn’t know whether it was from how bad she felt or at the frustration over the realization of the disastrous consequence of Boyle’s actions.

  “So what do you plan on doing?” snapped Jack. “So much for your wiretap. The only guy still alive that you were naming is Dong Tran VC-1. You know he won’t be talking.”

  “I know. I … God, I don’t know what to do. I never thought Boyle would do something like that. I’ll see if I can get him taken off the street. Maybe I can get him transferred.”