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

by Ty Hutchinson

  Gerald Thorn stepped forward, “How could we not? It’s not often we have one of our esteemed clients wanting to thank us all the way from Hong Kong.”

  “All right. Well, I thought I would start with a simple presentation about how well LC Toys, Inc. is doing post-Teleco influence. If everyone would gather around––”

  Gerald raised his hand and cut me off.

  “Nonsense, let’s hear from Mr. Chang Woo. That’s why we’re here.”

  I pulled up Skype and dialed Chu. A few seconds later Chu appeared in the video box. He wore a white dress shirt and a blue tie. Where he got the threads, I had no idea but I was happy to see him dressed appropriately.

  “It’s great to meet you Mr. Woo. I’m Gerald Thorn, vice president of sales at Teleco. Darby has told us a lot about your company. We’re very impressed.”

  Chu remained quiet and smiled. It was a bit awkward.

  “Must think outside box,” Chu said calmly.

  Gerald looked at him quizzically for a second. “Yes. You’re absolutely right Chang…is it okay if I call you Chang?”

  Chu nodded.

  “Zigging when the others zag, that’s what we do here daily. We’re always innovating and looking to one up the competition in the wireless frontier. Would you mind sharing with us how we’ve been able to help the LC Toys, Inc.?”

  That was my cue. ”Unfortunately my Chinese is better than Chang’s English. I don’t think he’ll be able to elaborate. But I have the numbers on my laptop and can give you the snapshot you’re looking for.”

  This was the moment where the meeting went from being a minute away from being finished to a damn code red.

  Harold stepped forward. “I thought this might be a problem, so I arranged for a Chinese interpreter. This is Charlene Hiu. She’s a professional, completely fluent in Chinese. She’ll be the go-between.”

  That sonofabitch. I couldn’t believe the brute was messing with me––right here.

  Harold’s grin split the entire length of his face as he brought Charlene forward.

  “I have a quick question,” he said, “Mr. Woo, your company is fairly new I take it, since there’s not much information about it on the Internet. I like to do thorough research on all our clients…you know, so we, Teleco, can fully understand your business needs. Is there any way we can hear an overview of the company history?”

  “Excellent question,” Gerald piped in.

  Charlene immediately began translating Harold’s question. I nearly had a heart attack.

  Chu remained quiet. His eyes shifted from side to side as if he were looking for help, hoping someone would save him. Finally he spoke very intensely with hand gestures and colorful facial expressions.

  Charlene listened intently to Chu. Whenever Chu took a breath I would think he was finished, but then he would continue to speak adamantly, as if he really were answering the questions. But that was impossible. There was no answer.

  When Chu finally finished, Charlene turned away from the screen. Seriousness invaded her face. She took a deep breath, and lifted her head, and proceeded to tell us in a very professional and businesslike manner what Chu said.

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Woo speaks a dialect that is very rare in Hong Kong, one I am not fully versed in and therefore I am unable to translate. Harold, there is nothing I can do. I am very sorry. Is this the entire scope of the job you hired me for?”

  Harold’s mouth dangled open about an inch from the floor. He was dumbfounded, much like the rest of us. I don’t think anybody saw that coming. But nobody could disprove it. The interpreter said so.

  “Uh…um, yes, that’s the job.”

  “If there’s nothing else,” Charlene continued, “I’ll excuse myself so that you may continue with your meeting. Again, I’m very sorry.”

  I couldn’t believe how quickly the tables had turned. Now I was back on top and Harold was scraping gum from underneath. I was quick not to dwell on the situation. “Shall we move on to the presentation? I’m sure Mr. Woo is tired. It’s half past midnight in Hong Kong.”

  Gerald quickly came back to life. “Yes, well we’re all terribly sorry we couldn’t hear your story, Chang. Another time then. Feel free to call me. I’m always available.”

  Chu smiled and nodded for a bit and then I ended the connection.

  The rest of the presentation itself was actually quite impressive and for the most part, extremely accurate. Most of the top dogs, including Gerald, stuck around to hear me out.

  When I finished with the big wigs, I stepped outside of the building and quickly called Chu. “Chu, it’s Darby. Man, we got lucky. I didn’t realize you spoke a rare dialect.”

  “I don’t. I speak same one as her.”

  “But Charlene said you did.”

  “I tell her if she don’t figure out way to stop questions, I will find her family and kill them all and then I will chop them up into little pieces and throw them into the ocean and when I’m finished I will rape her over and over again.”

  Reality check: The success of my business plan involved doing business with organized crime.

  “You’re not kidding are you?”

  “I not kidding.”

  Before I could cough up a response, Chu had hung up. The dial tone buzzed in my ear––another reminder of whom my business associates was.

  Chapter 109

  It was ten in the morning when I dialed the San Francisco Police Department’s Central Station. “I’d like to speak to Detective Kang, please.” I started to think she was probably there, working, and I would feel silly in about two minutes. That was the worrywart in me.

  “Detective Kang. How can I help you?”

  “Hi, this is Darby Stansfield. I’m a friend of Inspector Leslie Choi.”

  “Yes, hello, Darby. I believe the inspector mentioned your name once or twice. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I was trying to get a hold of her and thought she might be there with you.”

  “No, I haven’t seen or heard from Leslie in over a week. Did you try getting her on her cell?”

  “Yes, no answer. I assumed she was caught up in the case. That’s why I called you.”

  “When did you last see her?”

  “Well the last time I spoke with her was three days ago. I was out of town before that. We had made arrangements to have dinner that night but jet lag got the best of me and I slept all day and through most of the night. I stood her up. There were a few messages on my cell from her asking to confirm our date. That’s the last I heard from her. I called her multiple times since. I even checked with her sister and brother-in-law. I spoke with Andy and he admitted they haven’t seen her either. He didn’t seem concerned at all. ”

  “They’re Sulyn’s parents. Perhaps they’re still grieving.”

  “Maybe, but according to them, this is normal behavior for Leslie. They actually thought she was with me.”

  “And when you told them she wasn’t?”

  “Nothing. Same reaction.”

  “I want to make sure I understand the facts. You last heard from her three days ago via voicemail. Since then no one has seen or heard from her. Her sister and husband think this is normal behavior and aren’t concerned––this sound about right so far?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did she mention anything about the case?”

  “Only that the leads appeared to be drying up but she was still determined. Look, Detective Kang, I know it’s silly to call but––”

  “Anything is possible with Inspector Choi. She’s very determined. Do you think you can come down to the station?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Twenty minutes later I was sitting in an interrogation room at the Central Station. Sitting opposite me were Detectives Kang and Sokolov. Leslie never mentioned how big Sokolov was. He was enormous.

  “Is there anything else you can think of? Don’t think of what we can use. Let us determine what’s important or not,” Kang said.

  �
��I’ve told you everything. The only reason for her stay here was to investigate her niece’s murder.”

  “Stubborn lady, but it’s the tenacity that makes her good,” Kang said.

  Sokolov chuckled in agreement then took a big swig of his coffee.

  “So she’s really in trouble?” I said.

  Kang rubbed his forehead. “I wouldn’t close the door on that thought. These killers, they like to visit old crime scenes. It gives them pleasure. It allows them to reminisce and enjoy what they did over and over. It’s very likely she could have ended up in a location while he was there.”

  “But she’s a cop. She carries a gun.”

  “And he’s a killer. He carries a cleaver.”

  Talking to Kang and Sokolov confirmed my suspicions. There were two things we could not refute: Leslie was missing, and there was a damn good chance the killer could be involved. Just the thought turned my stomach into a basket of nausea. I couldn’t help but think I was responsible. If we had been on a date, she might still be around.

  “What do you suggest we do?”

  “Time is our enemy right now. We have to assume he abducted her. He’s done it once before and kept the victim alive for a few days.”

  “You think he’s holding her hostage?”

  “She’s not a hostage. She’s a toy. Killing her is how he ends the game. Is there anything else she told you about her investigation?”

  “No, I mean I’ve told you guys everything. She said the alley wasn’t producing any results––”

  “Alley? What alley?”

  “It’s the one with the fortune cookie company––she complained she bought a bag every time she was there.”

  “Ross Alley.” Kang and Sokolov responded in unison and then they both stood up and hurried out of the room. Kang looked back at me. “You coming?”

  Chapter 110

  A few minutes later we were walking through Ross Alley. Locals and tour groups were already maneuvering their way through as well. The Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Company was open; how could anyone resist the wonderful smell?

  “What are we looking for?” I asked.

  “Anything out of order, that doesn’t belong,” Kang replied tersely. “Signs of a struggle, blood, a torn piece of clothing. Keep your eyes on the ground.”

  I looked down and scanned the ground in front of me as I walked. I saw a gum wrapper but Leslie didn’t chew gum. I stepped over a couple of shriveled peels from an orange. Within twenty minutes we had scrubbed the alley. We walked its entire length back and forth at least five times. There was no sign of anything.

  “Detective Kang, do you really believe they bumped into each other coincidentally?”

  “I do. But there’s also a strong possibility that the killer might have targeted Leslie. She was working the case. She might be the reason he went underground. She also might be the reason he came back up.”

  “You think he’s been watching Leslie?”

  “Leslie’s a detail freak. That’s where the answers are. If she spent a lot of time combing this alley, it would be easy for him to target her.”

  “But what about the other victims? They were all teenagers, brats. Leslie is nothing like that.”

  “If she interrupted his play, she becomes an obstacle––something he needs to remove to continue.”

  I shook my head back and forth.

  “You’re saying he had to kill her to get back to killing?”

  “Darby let me ask you something. Do you prefer brunettes or blondes?”

  “What?”

  “Humor me Darby, blondes or brunettes?”

  “I don’t know, maybe brunettes I guess.”

  “Okay, for the purpose of my point, let’s say it’s brunettes. So say you really, really like brunette women and those were the only type of women you pursued day in and day out but one day a pretty blonde woman practically offers herself up to you. Now this isn’t your MO but hey, this is newfound pussy that fell into your lap. Would you turn this pussy down because you only pursued brunettes?”

  “Well if you put it that way of course it makes complete sense.”

  “It’s the same thing with killers. That’s what they do. They kill people.”

  “You think she’s dead.” I felt cold.

  “I don’t. The killer kept the previous victim, Sulyn, alive for a few days before killing her. If Leslie was abducted she’s most likely still alive. And she’s somewhere near here.”

  “How do we find her? The killer left no clues. We have no idea where he takes his victims, what he looks like, or anything.” More frustration set in and I kicked at the gravel. A tiny stone ricocheted of the wall right back at me. That’s when I noticed a black, metal ballpoint pen in a crack next to the building. I knew that pen. My heart beat with anticipation. Could it be? I bent down and picked up the pen. Stenciled along the side were the words Hong Kong Police.

  “This is her pen. This is Leslie’s.”

  Kang and Sokolov were already a few paces away from me when I made my discovery.

  “Are you sure?” Kang asked, running back to me.

  “I’m positive. I’ve seen her use it. And anyway what are the odds another cop from Hong Kong dropped a pen in this alley?”

  “Blood splatter?” Sokolov asked.

  Kang motioned to me for the pen. He held it by the clicker end and turned it around slowly. “There,” he said, pointing.

  Sure enough, there was a rust-colored streak on the pen.

  “I hope it’s not hers.” The thought made my stomach churn.

  “Maybe when she’s making notes, he attacks her from behind. She remembers the pen in her hand and starts to stab. She hits him at least once, maybe more, deep and hard enough to draw blood.”

  “But it’s not enough,” I said.

  “Not likely.”

  “He’s injured,” Sokolov chimed in.

  Kang continued, “She injures him with the pen but he still manages to knock Leslie unconscious. And now he’s got a body.”

  “Surely someone saw or heard something,” I said.

  “Not if it was late at night, Chinatown can empty out as early as eight, especially with the fog we’ve been having lately. Still he needs to get her out of sight quickly. So he either has a vehicle nearby or she’s somewhere near here.”

  “This guy kills out in the open and in alleyways. A car is not conducive,” Sokolov said.

  “Exactly. That means Leslie is somewhere nearby. She’s probably in one the buildings right outside of this alley. Let’s split up. Darby and I will search the buildings at the south end. Pete, you take care of the other side.”

  “I’m on it.” The big man effortlessly ran down the alley in large bounding steps.

  I kept in step with Kang as he exited the alley.

  Chapter 111

  Leslie lay still, listening for any sign of life besides her. Her left arm felt like a lifeless stump even after she rolled off of it. The tingling told her blood was making its way back, slowly raising the dead.

  An external light crept into the room from somewhere. It wasn’t much, but enough to brighten it a bit. She wiggled herself as much as she could back and upwards against the sides of the tub to a half-sitting position. It wasn’t much but at least she was elevated. It was enough to barely see over the lip of the tub. She saw a door. A faint glow slipped in between the top and bottom. A broom lay on the floor close to the light. She searched the room with her eyes and realized it was, for the most part, bare. She could make out objects, but what these objects were, she couldn’t be sure. Other parts of the room were still dark, especially the corners, where visibility was nil. Remaining still and listening, Leslie was sure she was the only life form on her side of the door. At least, for now.

  It was clear to Leslie that the person who abducted Sulyn was also her abductor. The chloroform confirmed it. Kang had mentioned that the toxicology report picked up traces of the chemical in Sulyn’s lungs.

  Leslie straightened
her legs. The bindings on her feet felt looser. If she could jiggle the material more, she might be able to slip a foot out. She pumped her feet back and forth methodically. Up, down, up, down. Slowly the knot began to stretch. She could feel the slack develop, but wasn’t quite able to slip a foot free. At the same time, she played with her hands, working the knot. It was tighter but not out of the question.

  Leslie could feel bindings around her feet loosen more. She picked up the pace. Up, down, up, down, up, down. She twisted her foot side to side. Almost there. Pulling a foot toward her and twisting, she could feel it slipping through.

  The Nike running shoes she had been wearing earlier were gone, which made it easier. Obviously the sicko removed them. What else did he do? The top two buttons of her shirt were unbuttoned. Did he do that? Did he slide a hand inside and caress her breasts? Was it done quickly? Was it done methodically for an hour?

  Leslie shook the thought out of her head. It made her sick to her stomach to think about it. Leslie continued to work the bindings, pulling and twisting. Back and forth, she kept at it. And finally she slipped a foot free. What a relief. Freedom.

  And that’s when she realized she wasn’t alone.

  Chapter 112

  It was near noon and the crowds in Chinatown were healthy. The sidewalks were a mess of cane walkers and photo snappers. I followed Kang as he walked briskly up and down the middle of the street looking around at various buildings and their storefronts. Nothing stood out to me. Kang said nothing while his eyes scanned a three-hundred-sixty-degree area.

  “Detective,” I called out. “What are we doing?”

  He stopped and turned to me. “If you were a killer and you had a body in the alley that you needed to get out of sight, fast, where would you go?”

  “I don’t know. If I lived in one of these apartments, I would go there. But there are apartments in most of these buildings,” I said as I looked up.

  Most of the buildings had businesses on the ground floor, either a shop or a restaurant, but the floors above were apartments. The fire escapes were littered with laundry hanging out to dry. “You think she’s up there, in one of them?”