Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella)

by Ty Hutchinson

  She worked to gain control of her thoughts. If this were a murder scene, and it damn well looked like one, she should be observing, soaking up the environment. Every detail needed to be logged. If she were to find Sulyn up ahead, she had to be on point right now. Leslie quickly wiped her eyes as she approached the police tape. She had her badge on her and hoped a quick flash would get her through the uniforms on perimeter detail.

  One of the uniforms, a newbie with a crew cut still reeking of academy, studied her badge. “Hong Kong has no jurisdiction here. What can I do for you?” he asked with reserved authority.

  Leslie knew the type. She would have to make him feel like he was doing his job as a big strong cop. She would have to fudge her way in. “I believe the victim here may have a connection to a case I’m working on. Detective Kyle Kang called me in,” she said, hoping Kang was a somebody, anybody, in the department.

  “Detective Kang asked you to come here?”

  “That’s correct,” she said realizing she was dressed like a runner. “He called me while I was out for a run and I came over immediately.”

  The young turk stood there, still contemplating what she said, trying to find a hole in her story.

  Leslie’s patience was growing thin and her emotions were on overload. It was taking everything she had to remain calm and not sock this guy in the face. Patience was something Leslie had none of. Two seconds, pal, and then I’m plowing right through you.

  •••

  It wasn’t until Kyle Kang stepped around his partner, Pete Sokolov––the giant Tsar––that he saw Leslie off in the distance talking to two uniforms.

  “Shit.”

  Sokolov looked up from his notes, “What?” He turned around to see what Kang was looking at.

  Kang motioned with his head, “It’s the inspector from Hong Kong.”

  “She’s a looker, not bad,” Sokolov said, nodding his approval.

  Even dressed in sweats and a ponytail, Leslie could command a boner.

  •••

  Leslie had always thought her looks would hinder her career but eventually she learned it was quite the opposite. Turns out she could get whatever she wanted if she turned on the charm. “Look, Officer...” Leslie peeked at his nametag, “…Wright. I know you’ve got a job here,” she said as she reached up and undid her ponytail. She shook her head, letting her thick mane fall down onto her shoulders. Very few men could resist this move. “But is there any way I can squeak by to see Detective Kang?”

  Like butter, the turk melted. He smiled and handed Leslie back her badge. “Sorry, Inspector. It’s becoming one of those days.”

  Leslie smiled as she touched his arm. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t go on forever.”

  She pushed through and made her way over to Detective Kang. He and the other man had already begun walking toward her. Kang’s facial expression was all business; he wasn’t letting on about anything.

  Leslie looked around, still no sign of a body. What happened here? There were so many people. Maybe this wasn’t a murder. Unlikely. Most of the activity was concentrated where Kang was standing. Plus the dive team showed up. Possibly the body was being fished from the waters.

  Leslie couldn’t tell if she was imagining it but everyone she passed turned to look at her, like they all knew what waited for her up ahead. It was a matter time before she too would be in on this sick joke. Is that or is that not Sulyn’s body? She could feel the tears start to well in her eyes. Her heart thumped faster, though she had stopped running long ago. She clenched her fists as she picked up the pace.

  Kang was getting closer. He held his hand up, warning her to stop.

  Why? It’s because Sulyn is back there, isn’t it? Leslie feared the worst. This all started as a morning jog. She wasn’t even planning on running this far. Coincidence?

  “Leslie stop right there, I need to speak to you.”

  “Is it her? Did you find Sulyn?”

  “What are you doing here? Did someone call you?”

  “I was in the area, jogging––I saw the police tape. My niece is missing. A crime took place here. I had to know if the two were connected.”

  “This is Detective Pete Sokolov, my partner.”

  Sokolov extended his hand. “Welcome to San Francisco, Inspector.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly call this a welcome.” She turned her attention back to Kang.

  Sokolov shrugged and retracted his hand.

  “Leslie, you shouldn’t be here right now.”

  “I’m asking you, Kyle, one cop to another, is there a body up there and is it my niece?” Leslie didn’t want to know the answer to this question. In fact, she hoped coming over here was one big mistake, that she had crossed the line and was interfering with an investigation that had nothing to do with Sulyn. Why? Because she feared from the minute she arrived in San Francisco that this investigation was about finding a body.

  Chapter 57

  Kang held up the baggie with his right hand. Inside, Leslie could see a gold and silver watch with a white leather wristband. On the face of the watch was a picture of Hello Kitty.

  Leslie took a step back. It felt like someone socked her in the stomach. She choked on her next few attempts at breathing. Her body trembled. Her heart pounded against her chest. Was this the watch she had given Sulyn a year ago? It looked the same but Leslie wasn’t sure. She remembered the store having at least six or seven similar designs. There was only one way to be sure.

  “What’s on the back? Is there an engraving?”

  Kang flipped the baggie over, and staring back at her was her answer.

  Rock it hard, Aunt Leslie.

  The scene was bad. Kang and Sokolov convinced Leslie that she didn’t need to see the body. Actually there was no body, only parts: a head, two legs, an arm, and one foot. The killer dismembered the victim, put the parts into various trash bags, and dumped it all near the pier.

  There was no easy way to tell Leslie how the head was found. The killer could have been sloppy in tying the bag or the seals somehow got it open. It didn’t matter though; the media would have a field day with this one. A seal playing with a human head like it was a ball?

  But that wasn’t the worst of it as far as the San Francisco Police Department was concerned. Kang feared they might have a serial killer on their hands. Two days after they found Marcus Lang in the SUV, they had two other teens show up in an alley. Boyfriend and girlfriend, both with their necks slit. The boy had both hands chopped off, the girl her feet. Necks slit, chopped body parts, spoiled teenager––all the same MO, that’s for damn sure.

  Leslie sat on a bench in shock. Sulyn was gone. She knew that the pain she felt now would turn to anger. Hunting the killer would be the only resolution. It’s what Chief Inspector Leslie Choi was good at. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t her case or even her jurisdiction. Some sicko had mutilated her niece. But Leslie had an even harder task to deal with before the hunt began: telling her sister that Sulyn wouldn’t be coming home. Ever.

  Chapter 58

  By two in the afternoon, every media outlet in San Francisco was reporting on the murder. “The Killer Seal” won best of the worst headlines. I, however, chose to sleep in that day and didn’t know about any of this yet.

  “Did you hear?” Tav asked eagerly as I arrived.

  I didn’t feel like dealing with office drama today. Was this about Harold?

  “A goddamn seal was playing with a human head.”

  “Huh? What are you talking about?”

  “It’s all over the news, a couple of seals at Pier 39 found a severed head and bounced it around like it was a ball or something. Flung that sucker right up on the docks for the tourists to see. The police are saying the head belonged to the girl who went missing about a week ago.”

  I thought maybe I was dreaming. Did he say seals were playing with a severed head? This sounds crazier than what I was doing in Hong Kong. I rubbed my eyes hoping for a little clarity in this warped story. “A
re you serious?”

  “Yeah, multiple murders. Ever since they found the kid in the Escalade it’s been non-stop. Just like that,” he continued with a snap of his fingers.

  I knew exactly what Tav was getting at. He was trying to connect how easily people here were being murdered with the dangerous stuff I was doing.

  “Look, Tav, I know what you’re doing. I’m in no danger.”

  “How do you know, Mr. Gangster Old G?”

  I shrugged, “Just do, that’s all. I mean these guys aren’t the smartest dumplings in the steamer.”

  “So what are your next steps?”

  “Well, once I push the paperwork through, I’m going to request on-site training so I can get back out there on the company dime instead of mine,” I said.

  “You think they’ll go for it? I mean it’s all the way in Hong Kong,” said Tav.

  “Oh yeah. The first order is thirty thousand.”

  “Thirty thousand?”

  “Well, I’m fronting it with cash advances from my credit cards. It’s part of the deal I made with the gang. In return, I get a cut of their weekly profits while I’m consulting and, more importantly, a case study.”

  Tav cocked an eyebrow. “What makes you think they’ll keep their end of the bargain?”

  “I’m looking at this as an investment; I gotta go out on a limb if I want the big payoff. I can’t go back to pizzerias and beauty salons.”

  “Did you mention anything to Harold yet?”

  “No, not yet. I want the paperwork to cross his desk like any other order.” I said smugly. “What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when he sees it.” I’d fantasized about this moment for a long time. What would he say? Would he have an aneurism right there at his desk? I hoped so. Ultimately, I hoped Harold would freak and run out of his office pulling his hair while screaming. People would try and calm him down but it wouldn’t help. Eventually he would fall into a catatonic state and live the rest of his life like a worthless donkey.

  And of course there was HAM. I hadn’t even begun to think about how it would go down with them when I was reinstated back into heavy-hitter land.

  “Well I’m dying to know how that hairy stump will react, too,” Tav said with an evil grin. “I might have to scout his office.”

  Chapter 59

  After work I stopped by Mr. Fu’s for noodles and to say hi. I hadn’t told him I visited Hong Kong.

  “Mr. Fu!” I shouted as I entered the restaurant. Two older women were busy chopping vegetables and washing dishes. Mr. Fu was stirring up food in the wok as usual.

  “Darby, where you been? No see long time.”

  “I went on a little vacation,” I said.

  “Fun time?”

  “I had a great time. I visited your homeland…Hong Kong.”

  “Hong Kong?” Mr. Fu turned to me confused.

  That got your attention didn’t it? “Yeah, I got so excited about your stories, I had to check it out for myself,” I said with a laugh.

  Mr. Fu wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t even responding but I failed to see the glaring sign above his head that said to stop talking about Hong Kong. Part of me really wanted to tell Mr. Fu I had met a Triad. I thought he would get a kick out of it.

  Naively continuing, “Yeah I had some authentic dim sum and noodles, though I didn’t think they were better than yours, visited some massage parlors,” I said with a wink, “saw the famous waterfront, drank beers with a Triad…”

  Mr. Fu didn’t respond.

  I wondered if he heard me. “I said I had some dim sum and noodles, visited some massage parlors, saw the famous waterfront, drank beers with a Triad…”

  Mr. Fu turned to me. “I hear you first time.”

  I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I was expecting, but a cold one wasn’t on the list. Mr. Fu’s forehead crinkled as his eyebrows narrowed. It looked as though he was thinking––thinking of hitting me.

  “I’m kidding, Mr. Fu. I didn’t have beers with a Triad.” Clearly talk about Triads wasn’t a good idea. All I wanted was to tell Mr. Fu I experienced a part of his past.

  “Why you make joke? Not funny,” Mr. Fu said angrily.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No make joke again. Not funny,” Mr. Fu said. “Eat here?”

  At this point I wanted to leave, this place had fast become Awkward City and the population was crowded at two.

  “No,” I said, “Take out.”

  I watched Mr. Fu dump my chop suey into a box. Not wanting leave on a bad note, I gave Mr. Fu my standard three-finger salute and said, “Goodnight.”

  Chapter 60

  Later that night Mr. Fu struggled with his new, aggressive thoughts about Darby. This insistence on talking about the Triads used to worry Mr. Fu but now it angered him. Did he have enough control to keep the memories at bay? They were returning. Sharper and much more vivid images swirled in his head. They only worsened over the last few weeks as he struggled to force them out of his thoughts. His past was winning, making a full comeback and looking to stay for good. Tears of rage filled Mr. Fu’s eyes as he realized he wasn’t losing the battle. The battle was already lost. That stupid boy had erased years of forgetting for his own joking matters. Mr. Fu’s anger centered on Darby. He was responsible.

  Mr. Fu closed the flimsy door behind him and locked it. The night was cool, forcing him to raise the collar on this jacket. A slight fog drifted in between the buildings. Mr. Fu turned to study a poster on the wall next to the restaurant. It advertised a reward for information on the killing of Marcus Lang, the kid who was found slain in his SUV. Ten thousand? That’s all my work is worth? Mr. Fu sneered and then disappeared into the night. The Voice, the other part of him, was in complete control now.

  Chapter 61

  Leslie sat quietly on the front steps of her sister’s refurbished blue and green Victorian home. It was among the three on the block that opted for a “Painted Ladies” look. Sheila even went a step further and had all the trim and ornate woodwork done in gold leaf.

  Across the street was Alta Plaza, one of the two parks in the wealthy Pacific Heights neighborhood. Leslie sipped at the mug of much-ballyhooed Blue Bottle coffee clutched in her hand and watched sweater-wearing dog owners follow their sweater-wearing dogs so they could pick up the poop.

  Her sister’s family had not taken the news about Sulyn well. Sheila was devastated. What mother wouldn’t be? Her little daughter, no matter how much they fought and argued, was still her baby and she loved her. Sheila was a mess. She wouldn’t leave her bedroom, and that was all right with Leslie. She didn’t want the extra responsibility of babysitting. What Leslie needed to do now was focus on what she was good at: solving crimes.

  She arrived at the San Francisco Police Department’s Central Station at ten sharp. The station was located in the North Beach area just off of Columbus Avenue on Vallejo Street. The building was a grey nondescript four-story cement slab. It could be anything really. Nothing about it said, “If you’re in trouble, come inside. We’re the police.”

  “Chief Inspector Leslie Choi here to see Detective Kang,” she announced. She was eager to hear everything the two detectives, Kang and Sokolov, learned about her niece’s case.

  “You got an appointment?” the uniform behind the desk asked as he leaned out from his desk to see if Kang was around.

  “He’s expecting me.”

  “Well he’s not at his desk right now but you can wait over there if you want.”

  “Thanks. I will.”

  Leslie took a seat and waited. It wasn’t long before she heard muffled yelling coming from the closed door of a nearby office. Someone’s getting chewed.

  Leslie tried not to listen but the shouting got louder and louder until the door flew open.

  “I’m warning you. Let it go!”

  Those were the last words the captain shouted at the two detectives leaving his office––Kyle Kang and Pete Sokolov. Kang had a fierce look on
his face and Leslie couldn’t help that she had big smile on hers when their eyes met. The entire situation wasn’t ideal.

  “I have a sneaky suspicion that this performance wasn’t for me,” she said.

  Chapter 62

  Ten minutes before Leslie arrived, Kang and Sokolov were briefing the jowled Captain Richard Cavanaugh. He was old school, a guy who had been with the force for twenty years and politicked his way up the ladder.

  “A serial killer is not what this city needs right now,” were the first words out of Cavanaugh’s mouth, followed by, “Drop it.”

  Of course the two of them couldn’t and wouldn’t. They explained how all of the bodies showed signs of similar trauma in the throat area, plus the increase in dismemberment with each victim encouraged the connection. And then there were the miscellaneous wounds, all with the same characteristics, all practically shouting meat cleaver.

  Cavanaugh didn’t care. “You guys work these cases individually and I don’t care how you close them but I want them closed fast. I’ve got the media going wild about this ‘Killer Seal’ bullshit, and I don’t need them getting wind of this serial killer angle and blowing it up into something it ain’t. I like not having the mayor up my ass. You two understand?”

  Kang interjected, “Cap, I’ve got a pretty good track record with my hunches, and there is evidence telling us these murders are connected.”

  Cavanaugh pointed a finger at Kang. “What did I say? Are you not listening?”

  Pissed and at a loss for words, Kang looked at his long-time and equally frustrated partner. “How…how can we let this go?”

  “Kang, if I find out you’re investigating these murders all as one, I swear I’ll put you on administrative leave so fast you won’t know what hit you. You too, Sokolov.”