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

by Ty Hutchinson

  “Tav? Surf? I think you’re talking about the wrong guy.”

  “I know. Crazy, huh? He’s been bugging me for a while.”

  And then it dawned on me. Tav wasn’t interested in surfing. He was interested in Izzy. He was looking to upgrade from vending machine buddy. Well, not wanting to ruin his sad game, I held back some of my Darbytastic ways. I was curious to see how this would play out.

  “Congratulations, by the way,” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “Your new client in Hong Kong.”

  “Oh, yeah. Thanks. How did you know?”

  “Sorry, we hardly know each other and I’m all in your business. Tavish mentioned it to me.”

  I waved it off. “Don’t worry about it. It’s cool.”

  “Plus, everyone kind of heard about Harold Epstein freaking out.”

  “Yeah. I wish I saw that.”

  “Me too. Hey, after work a bunch of us are heading over to this pub in North Beach. You guys should come out. La Trappe Café. Heard of it?”

  “Yeah. The Belgian beer place, right?”

  “Yep. Come by if you can. Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Wow. I got invited to hang with my coworkers. This is huge. But more importantly, was Izzy hitting on me? Is this what it was like to be on the rise to stardom? Women you don’t know suddenly talk to you and invite you out for beers? I could get down with that. Damn, I might have to cockblock Tav. Wasn’t he into that bookstore lady anyway?

  A half hour later my cell rang. I recognized the number right away. “Hey, Leslie.”

  “Hi, Darby. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  For a second there, I had totally forgotten about Leslie Choi. Two women in my life––I liked this. And then I remembered everything else. Her niece was murdered and she was a cop. “Of course not. Actually, I was thinking of calling you.”

  “Oh? Do tell.”

  “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “That’s sweet of you.”

  “And I wanted to know how long were going to be in town.”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me, Darby?” Her voice was playful.

  “No, it’s just that I have to head back to Hong Kong soon. I have a new account there and it requires a lot of on-site consultation. So…”

  “I get it, Darby. It’s work. Nukes, right?”

  “Yeah, nukes.”

  “Well, I’ll probably be here for at least a week and a half. Sulyn’s funeral is in a couple of days, plus I wanted to put some effort toward this case. When are you heading back?”

  “The day after tomorrow.”

  “So soon?”

  “It’s important to get the company trained and up to speed as soon as possible. I’ll be traveling back and forth for the next month or so.”

  “How about dinner before you leave? Just us.”

  “Sounds great.” So did Belgian beer with the blonde.

  The real reason for me getting back to Hong Kong quickly was Chu. When I finally had a chance to call him back, he was very brief and said the gang must start the Get Organized program right away. He was very excited about the gang making money.

  Or was he panicked?

  Chapter 73

  Kowloon Peninsula, Hong Kong

  It was a little after midnight in the Sham Shui Po district. The skies were dark and the city had been taking a nonstop shower for the last five hours. Nothing was dry. Everything was squishy. With the high winds causing electrical outages all night, the streets were empty and businesses had long since closed. The only source of light on Fuk Wing Road was the low glow emitting from Sings restaurant.

  Inside, Sing and Chu huddled around a table in the far left corner of the dining area and talked in hushed tones. A single lamp on the table lit the area around them. Hot tea was the drink of choice on this Friday night.

  “Sing, we must act. We cannot let this pass. The men, they are restless and scared.”

  “Scared?”

  “They feel like sitting ducks.”

  And they should. There was a killer on the loose in Hong Kong. But its citizens were not worried nor did the media feel the need to tout the “Ling Chi Killer.”

  Why? It was quite simple: The killer was targeting Triads. More precisely, the brothers in the Fan Gang. Six bodies had been dumped near the docks in the Cheung Sha Wan district, each victim killed in the same gruesome way: Ling Chi. This method of execution developed by Imperial China was long ago abandoned by the Chinese government as a form of execution because of its cruelty and pain to the victim. But someone didn’t get the memo.

  The Fan Gang had lost nine members in a three-month period, and the last six were by way of Ling Chi. This was no longer coincidence or the nature of the job. There was no arguing that they were being targeted and slowly eliminated.

  Chu was convinced it was the same killer and the new method of killing was a message to the gang. What for? He didn’t know. The gang had not provoked the other factions.

  Sing leaned back and sipped his tea. Chu leaned in and was about to speak but stopped. By the look in Sing’s eyes, this conversation was over.

  Later, in the early morning, Chu sat alone in his tiny studio apartment. The rain had stopped and the skies had cleared, allowing the moon to shine. It provided the only light in the tiny room. Chu took another swig of Johnnie Walker straight from the bottle. He wasn’t drunk, but the golden liquor gave him the courage to plan his next steps. It was time to retaliate. The gang needed to stand up for themselves, and Chu was done waiting for Sing to act. Sing had not done a single thing since the first brother was murdered, except give excuses. Chu would take matters into his own hands. His first act would be to increase the gang’s cash flow. This is where Darby came in. His second act was to arm his crew. Chu would take care of this personally.

  Fuck Sing.

  Chapter 74

  San Francisco, California

  I told the Teleco crew I would meet them over at the pub. I wanted to wrap up the shipping orders and see that they went through correctly. It was important the product arrive in Hong Kong on time. By six, I was out the door and walking briskly toward Le Trappe.

  The fog was already moving in fast, a sure sign the city will have long disappeared under cover by the time I finished slamming a few beers back with the gang. The opportunity to get to know them better was intriguing, kind of. Mostly I was looking forward to seeing Izzy again. I still couldn’t believe she had invited me out.

  No sooner had I turned onto Columbus Avenue than something out of nowhere hit me in the side of the face. The impact sent me flying into a brick wall. I banged my shoulder hard and felt a rush of pain. What the hell happened? My world was rocked. Everything was spinning as I tried to regain my footing. My first thought was that a car hit me. That’s when I felt the second brutal hit, this time on the left side of my face. This one sent me straight to the sidewalk. It felt like a sledgehammer was in my head and the spin cycle was on. I rolled onto my back and vaguely made out a figure standing over me. Thank God, help was here.

  Wrong! Another hard shot landed right in the middle of my face. I heard the crack first and then felt the sharp pain shoot up my nose and into my head. Something broke. Blood ran down the back of my throat and along the side of my face. My God, someone was seriously beating the shit out of me. The worst crossed my mind. Was I the next victim of the Chop Chef Killer?

  I lay there curled up in a ball, waiting for death, wondering how much it would hurt. I was hurting pretty badly as it was. And then the figure leaned down next to me. It was inches from my face. I could feel the hot breath against my cheek.

  “I’ve been looking for your motherfucking ass.”

  Fat Sal!

  I managed to look out of the corner of my eye and confirm my thoughts. The figure leaning over me was Fat Sal. He reached into my back pocket and emptied my wallet. Then he spit in my face.

  “This ain’t fucking over,” he said. Fat Sal stood up and ki
cked me hard in the stomach. I lay there gulping like a fish out of water.

  Thinking with my dick. That’s why I ventured back into North Beach and am lying on the ground.

  Chapter 75

  Fight club was a favorite but in the end I settled on a mugging to explain my face. I came across a lady being robbed by two men. I jumped in to help her and took a hit or two but I prevailed. That was my story and I was sticking to it. I’m a street-fighting, ass-kicking hero.

  By mid-morning the story had spread throughout the office and I officially was one badass bottom feeder, soon to be heavy hitter. Only one person didn’t buy it.

  “You’re totally lying. What happened?” That one person was Tav. Even Harold bought the story. “Seriously, Darb?”

  I knew Tav wasn’t going to let this go until he had an answer. “Fat Sal. That’s what happened.”

  “You got in a fight with him?”

  “More like he was the fighter and I was the punching bag. He caught me off guard last night. I was on my way over to Le Trappe when that bastard came up from behind and clocked me. I couldn’t recover after the first hit.”

  “And then what?”

  “He kept punching me. Even stole my money. Said it wasn’t over and then he left. He must have been looking for me ever since the incident.”

  “Dude, you need to report this to the police. This is assault and robbery.”

  “I’m not going to say anything and neither are you. I don’t need the police or the management here digging around in my business if you hadn’t forgotten. I’ll find a way to get back at him.”

  I still had one more person I had to sell this story to: Leslie.

  For dinner, we agreed to meet at a cozy little French restaurant on the edge of Chinatown. My way of warming up to a hot night between the sheets.

  “So let me get his straight? You surprised a couple of street thugs mugging an old lady…”

  “Yeah and I started in on them. Surprise attack. It’s how I got the jump to even things out a bit. Knocked the first guy to the ground.”

  “And then they ran off?”

  “Well I mixed it up for a bit with the other guy but I guess they figured it wasn’t worth it and they took off.”

  “Why didn’t you guys call the cops?”

  “Didn’t need too. The lady had her purse, and those guys were already gone...American thing I guess. But enough of this Good Samaritan talk. Have you looked at the menu yet?”

  “Mmmm, yes. Everything looks so good here.”

  We both started off with the tomato soup in a puffed pastry. Vive le France for the pastry. I then feasted on the entrecôte grillée, a medium-rare ribeye with frites. Leslie had the sole meunière, a tender filet in a light butter and caper sauce.

  Overall, I would have to say dinner was going well. Conversation was just right, a lot like our first night together. We’re both similar diners. We talk a lot before and after the meal, and very little during the eating part. We lingered over the last of the wine. I didn’t want the date to end. Neither did Leslie. I grabbed hold of her hand and caressed it.

  “I’m bummed I have to leave tomorrow. It’d be nice to spend a lazy day in bed with you.”

  “Mmmm, me too.”

  I felt her stocking covered foot inch up my leg towards my crotch.

  “You’re naughty,” I said.

  “Maybe you should lock me up.”

  Check!

  Chapter 76

  Darby and Leslie exited the restaurant hand in hand, kissing and laughing like a couple of high school sweethearts. The Voice didn’t find any of this amusing. He stood back in the shadows of an alley on the other side of the street. He had watched them all night through the restaurant window. Now more than ever he wanted to kill them. Darby because he grew to hate his stupidity. Leslie, on the other hand, for another reason. She was a different story. The two of them had history together, even if she didn’t know it. Plus, her efforts on her niece’s murder had forced The Voice to temporarily halt his extracurricular activities. She had become a nuisance. While the other two detectives had to spread their time out over all five murder investigations, Leslie remained focus on Sulyn’s death. This was an inconvenience. The fancy inspector was getting too close.

  The happy couple walked up the hill toward the alleyway. Here, The Voice was invisible. Cloaked by darkness, the Chop Chef Killer fingered the cleaver in the side pocket of his oversize black jacket. How easy it would be. One swing to the left would take care of Leslie, and another to the right would take care of Darby. They were only a few steps away now. The Chop Chef Killer removed the cleaver and leaned up against the alley wall, waiting for the right moment to strike. And then he heard laughing behind him.

  A group of young men in the alley walked toward him. The teens had been drinking and were loud, pushing each other around. The Chop Chef Killer returned the cleaver to his jacket and hunched over, back to the role of a simple old man as he watched Darby and Leslie pass by.

  As the group of boys walked by him, one of them stopped and pushed The Voice up against the wall. “Hey, old man, shouldn’t you be home asleep? It’s a school night,” he said laughing. The other boys kept walking and turned up the street.

  Don’t you know who you’re messing with? I’m the Chop Chef Killer. That’s my name, don’t wear it out. He recognized this one. He had seen the punk before. He called out to the boy, a whisper really. “Hey, boy, I have something for you.”

  The boy stopped and turned back around in time to see a glint of metal pass across his neck. One swing to the left. Chop. Chop. Check, please.

  The Chop Chef Killer strikes again.

  Chapter 77

  Kowloon Peninsula, Hong Kong

  I returned to Hong Kong with a good dose of adrenaline buzzing throughout my body. I was thrilled about putting Get Organized into action. When I awoke the first morning in my familiar hotel room, the sun was out and the skies were clear. The day was shaping up to be perfect case study weather. Mother Nature must know I’m town.

  I hit the sidewalks earlier than needed and made my way over to the House of Chow. The plan was to meet up with Sing and Chu, go over the product, and put it to use in their operations. The entire gang was there when I arrived. Every single one of them had their heads buried in warm bowls of thick rice porridge. Congee they called it.

  As usual, Chu spotted me first and waved me over. “Darby, happy to see you again.”

  “Hi, Chu. How are things?”

  “Not so good. Need to make money very fast. Lots of work to do.”

  Chu spoke to one of the brothers in Chinese. A few seconds later he would be exiting the kitchen with a same bowl of warm congee for me.

  “Sit, sit,” Chu said.

  I took a seat and immediately gulped down a few spoonfuls of the comfort food before looking around the restaurant. “Where’s Sing?” I asked.

  Chu pointed at the bowl, “Eat, eat. Sing come soon. Where supplies?”

  I pulled out my iPhone and ran my shipping number. “Out for delivery,” the status update said. “It should be here soon. It’s arriving via FedEx.”

  The front door opened and in walked Sing. He was dressed in his traditional black suit fanning himself dangerously close with his fan. “Darrrrby, how nice to see you again.”

  “Good to see you too, Sing.”

  “What’s our agenda today?”

  “Well a large shipment of Teleco product is set to be delivered any minute now. I’ll quickly explain what each product does and then we’ll put them to use.”

  “Very good. I’m eager to hear your plans for improvement.”

  I noticed a fresh wound under Sing’s chin and couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

  “What’s so funny, Darrrby?” Sing asked.

  “Oh, nothing. Just excited to get going is all.”

  A large FedEx truck pulled up outside the restaurant. “There it is,” I said, pointing to the front door.

  We all headed
outside. I signed the paperwork and Chu ordered his men to unload the boxes quickly and get everything inside the restaurant. Twenty boxes being off-loaded from a FedEx truck and into a restaurant wasn’t a common everyday occurrence. I could understand Chu’s rush to get the merchandise indoors quickly.

  Sing, however, stood quietly and watched. Who really ran the gang? From what I saw, Chu was actively managing the gang on a daily basis. Sing mostly watched and whispered into his ear. His conversations with the gang never went further than Chu. Was Sing a figurehead? I didn’t get it. I didn’t really care though.

  As soon as the brothers carried the last of the boxes into the restaurant, I gathered everyone around. The gang shuffled into a half circle in front of me. Chu stood next to me while Sing pulled up a chair off to the side and sat down.

  “Listen up. Before we dive into the new product, it’s important I hear what you’ve done with the samples I left behind. Did you put them to use? What kind of difference did they make over time? Who can give me an update?” Before leaving, I left instructions for the gang to use everything I gave them, and to discover other uses for the product. I was serious.

  Chu raised his hand. “Let me give update. Easier this way.”

  “Okay.”

  “We have much success with up-skirt.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Every day we collect fresh footage and upload to website.” Chu pulled a small black netbook out of a bag. I didn’t recognize the brand. He pulled up the website on the laptop. The homepage was redesigned to show off the material. There were many up-skirt photos. The focus was on the sheer amount of content the site had. Big letters spelled out “NEW CONTENT DAILY.”

  “Membership increase. Making good money.”

  “Good to hear,” I said. “Okay, now gather around. This is my favorite part. In these boxes are the best wireless weapons money can buy.”

  Chapter 78

  “Before I open these boxes, I want you all to remember this product is for your gang only. Do not give this to friends or family members. These tools are to be used strictly for business only. Okay?” I ripped open a box and passed out direct-connect phones to everyone. “There are two hundred of these phones. This is your basic form of communication. Make sure everyone in the gang or working with the gang gets one.”