Peccadillo - A Katla Novel (Amsterdam Assassin Series Book 2)

by Martyn V. Halm

“More than a tad,” Katla said. “You wanted to ask me some questions?”

  Tsui Pak Yun took out the pendant, placed it slowly on the table. “Bram told me you took this from a corpse.”

  “I did.”

  “How did you come upon the corpse?”

  Katla watched his fingers caressing the pendant. “Why do you want to know?”

  Tsui Pak Yun shook his head. “Don’t worry about repercussions. I assure you that we are not troubled by this person’s death.”

  “With ‘we’, you mean the 14K?”

  He nodded. “Bram told you about the Kau Hong?”

  “Thugs, formerly associated with your affiliate, the 14K.”

  Tsui Pak Yun held up his hand. “It’s important to know that they’re not a real triad.”

  “I get it. They do not uphold the lofty principles of the honourable 14K.”

  “Your sarcasm is misplaced.”

  “Is it? The 14K is a criminal organisation, Ah Yun. So is the Kau Hong.” The old man was about to protest, but Katla continued, “I do realise that you are at odds with each other. So my problem with the Kau Hong does not extend to the 14K.”

  “We are, as you say, at odds with the Kau Hong.” The old man put his hands palm up on the table. “You seem to be at odds with them too. My enemy’s enemy can be my ally.”

  “The 14K needs allies against a group of rogue smugglers?”

  Tsui Pak Yun sucked in his lower lip, the sparse white hair of his goatee bristling out. “I was talking about you needing allies. The Kau Hong can be a formidable enemy.”

  “So far, they’ve been bothersome rather than formidable. I might be able to solve this matter without resorting to alliances with other criminal organisations.”

  “You might be underestimating the Kau Hong.”

  “My client’s respectable, legitimate business would be ruined by associating with either the Kau Hong or the 14K,” Katla said. “Exchanging one for the other would be futile.”

  Tsui Pak Yun took a deep breath. “No offence, but you don’t sound like a law-abiding citizen either, taking pendants from corpses.”

  “I can easily pass for respectable and legitimate, whereas you can’t.”

  Tsui Pak Yun tilted his head. “Is that why your client hired you?”

  “Plus I get things done. One way, or the other.”

  “So you’re a ‘fixer’, mister—?”

  “Loki.”

  His half-lidded eyes widened. “Loki? You—”

  “Yes, I thinned your ranks a few years ago. Although I didn’t learn of their affiliation to the 14K until afterward.”

  “Not that that knowledge would’ve held you back.” Pearls of sweat trickled down Tsui Pak Yun’s temple. “I heard you don’t take meetings.”

  “Not with people who can identify me, no. Your minder better stays downstairs until I’m gone.”

  The frail old man was still too pale, but Katla didn’t know how to put him at ease. She didn’t want him to have a seizure, though.

  “There’s no need to be scared,” she spoke softly. “You’re a friend of Bram and you’re not on my list.”

  “Would you tell me if I was?”

  “No, you’d be dead. And you’re not, so relax.”

  The old man covered one shaking hand with another. “So… your client hired you to kill the Kau Hong?”

  “I’m hired to remove the threat and limit negative publicity.”

  Tsui Pak Yun wiped his forehead with a silk handkerchief. “The 14K is not a threat.”

  “If I thought they would be, I wouldn’t have taken this meeting. The Kau Hong are trying a hostile takeover of my client’s transportation business. Why?”

  “For smuggling purposes, most likely.”

  “Drug trafficking?”

  Tsui Pak Yun shook his head. “Products made from endangered species. Tiger eyes and penis, dried seahorses, bear bile, turtle plastron, snake skins.”

  Some colour seemed to come back to his face. Maybe a Q&A put him at ease. Katla knew the answer, but she asked the question anyway. “Plastron, that’s an underbelly, isn’t it?”

  “The under shield is used whole as a tool for divination and powdered in potions.” Tsui Pak Yun’s chance at lecturing seemed to calm him down, his voice an octave lower than before. “People who want authentic traditional Chinese medicine are still willing to pay top dollar.”

  “They must be, or the Kau Hong wouldn’t be willing to kill to gain control over my client’s business.” Katla rose from the table. “Thanks for the information.”

  “Wait.” Tsui Pak Yun stretched out his hand in her general direction. “Maybe we can help each other.”

  Katla stayed out of reach. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I can manage.”

  “I’m sure you can, but I can make it worthwhile.”

  “I’m already getting paid,” Katla replied. “What do you offer?”

  Tsui Pak Yun put his hands palms up on the table. “What would you like?”

  “I’d like for the Kau Hong to stop bothering my client.”

  “I’m sure the 14K would like to assist you with that.”

  “In what way, Ah Yun?”

  “I can get you more information. The Kau Hong used to be associated with the 14K. We know who they are. We can supply you with names and pictures, aid you in tracking them down…”

  “I’ll think about it. Where I can reach you?”

  Tsui Pak Yun recited a number and Katla repeated it back to him.

  “We’ll be in touch.” Katla picked up the old man’s Nokia and re-assembled the cell phone. She placed it in front of the old man, picked up her voice recorder and walked away from the table. After a quick trip to the counter for an espresso, she sat down at another table, hiding behind a magazine while she watched Tsui Pak Yun until he was collected by his minder.

  -o-

  Katla studied the swirling water stains on the ceiling of the basement apartment, while Bram listened to her voice recorder on his headphones.

  Soft bebop jazz played in the background. Try as she might, Katla would never be able to keep the artists apart—not only did most of them sound alike to her ears, they all played on each other’s records, and the ‘leader’ role seemed arbitrary.

  “I’d take his offer,” Bram said after listening to the recording of her conversation with Tsui Pak Yun. “What do you have to lose?”

  “Nothing’s for free. I don’t want to owe the 14K anything.”

  “As far as I understand, they offer you their assistance because you both dislike the Kau Hong. And what are the alternatives? Kill seventy people just to protect your business interests?”

  Katla shook her head, but caught herself. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary. The Kau Hong is like a snake—cut off its head and the body will die.”

  “The Kau Hong could be like a worm,” Bram replied. “Cut off the head and the tail takes over. You don’t know how many underlings are waiting for you to take out the boss.”

  “Sure. And they could also resent me for killing their boss and take revenge.”

  “You told Yun that you’re already being paid. So far, all this is costing you.” Bram walked up to his stereo and turned the record to play the other side. “The 14K might be interested in a contract on the boss of the Kau Hong. They’re already familiar with Loki’s reputation.”

  “They know my reputation from the wrong side of the equation.”

  “I think they understand that killing those 14K members was pure business on your part.”

  Katla propped herself up on her elbows. “That might not make them resent it less.”

  “Isn’t there a way to involve the 14K without revealing Sphinx as the targeted shipping firm? You just have to take the fight to the Kau Hong, I suppose.”

  Bram’s cell phone rang. He answered and listened to what sounded like a tirade. He covered the microphone and said, “Ah Yun is not pleased.”

  The angry rhetoric lasted for a fe
w minutes before petering out.

  Bram kept silent for a few beats and said, “How was I supposed to warn you? I didn’t know his profession.”

  “…”

  “Listen, I hardly know him. One of our mutual Japanese friends referred him to me.”

  “…”

  “If that’s what you want, I’ll meet you tomorrow at the park.”

  “…”

  Bram switched off the phone. “Yun is a bit worried about your involvement.”

  “See? They’re afraid of me because I killed a few 14K members.” Katla snorted. “They weren’t even targets.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t learn their affiliation until after the job.”

  “They were additionals, not the main target.”

  “What happened?”

  “A small time Chinese crook was shaking down the wrong people, who hired Loki to kill him. While I was setting the scene, three other Chinese walked in. I killed them and changed the scene to make it look like a rip deal.”

  “And they didn’t fall for it?”

  “They fell for it all right,” Katla said. “But the additionals turned out to be 14K and my target was loosely affiliated with the Dai Huen Jai, so the ‘rip deal’ nearly started a turf war. To avert a war, my client revealed hiring Loki.”

  “Oops.”

  “Actually, it worked to my advantage. Cemented my reputation. I got a few more assignments out of that.”

  “I wonder if the Kau Hong are aware of your reputation?”

  Katla wondered the same thing. Judging by Tsui Pak Yun’s reaction to the Loki name, the reputation itself might be enough to make them reconsider targeting Sphinx if it displeased Loki.

  “Since you don’t have a calling card, the best thing might be to return their pendant with a polite note to stay away from Sphinx,” Bram said. “If they heard of Loki, they’ll abort. If they don’t abort… well, you gave them fair warning.”

  “It’s the warning part I don’t like. Forewarned is forearmed.”

  “They’re probably already on high alert anyway on account of the dead sentry.”

  “Probably, but they don’t know who they’re dealing with,” Katla said. “Plus I don’t like the idea of being ‘fair’. You’ll meet Yun tomorrow?”

  “At the Wertheimpark, opposite the Hortus Botanicus. He gathered information for Loki. No strings attached.” Bram rubbed his nose. “The 14K seem eager to get rid of the Kau Hong. You’re absolutely sure you don’t want me to negotiate a killing fee?”

  WERTHEIMPARK

  Bram refused the inner ear speaker.

  “It’s just in one ear,” Katla said. “Hardly noticeable.”

  “Close one of your eyes and tell me if it’s hardly noticeable.” He fingered the mike on his right lapel. “A blocked ear distorts my balance.”

  “You act like you’re going up on the high wire. You’ll be sitting down most of the time.”

  “I’m not afraid of falling from a park bench, but I’m not going to stuff my ears.”

  “I need to be able to give you instructions, Bram.”

  “You’ll have to find something else.”

  She found a less intrusive bluetooth ear phone for cell phones. Bram sat still while she hung the speaker in his ear. “Just make sure Yun sits on your right side.”

  “He won’t be able to see the ear piece.”

  “This speaker is open-ear. If his ears are as sensitive as yours, he might be able to hear you get instructions.”

  “Can I turn down the volume myself?” He fingered the ear phone. “I don’t want you shouting in my ear.”

  Katla sighed. “What’s the problem?”

  “I just don’t like hard noises.”

  “Not that. You’ve been crabby all morning.”

  His face became mask-like.

  “If you don’t want to tell me, fine.” Katla went to the kitchen. “Just don’t behave like a child.”

  “You should’ve told me,” Bram said. “About killing 14K members, about lunching with Anouk, about threatening Yun.”

  Katla laughed. “I never figured you for jealous.”

  “Jealous?”

  “This is not about Yun and the 14K.”

  His eyelids opened, showing the cataracts covering his eyes. “It’s about you keeping secrets from me.”

  “You can bookend the issue, but this is about Anouk. You don’t want me to get close to your ex.”

  “I don’t mind. Why would I?”

  “Indeed,” Katla said. “Why would you?”

  “I don’t care about that.”

  “It’s only normal. You know who I am and you still have feelings for her…”

  “My feelings for Anouk are like the feelings I have for Bianca.”

  “I doubt if you would be this upset if I had lunch with your sister.”

  Bram took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if calming himself.

  “Why are you so upset? I’m just trying to make them my friends too.”

  “That would be something. For you to act without ulterior motive.”

  Katla laughed again. “That won’t work with me. You can’t offend me.”

  “I don’t need your fucking instructions.”

  Bram ripped the speaker from his ear and threw the ear piece in her general direction.

  She caught the ear piece one-handed. “Are you sure you don’t want back-up?”

  Bram walked away. A moment later the door slammed behind him. Katla finished her espresso and switched on the receiver of the microphone, still clipped to the blind man’s lapel.

  She connected the receiver to an ear piece and followed Bram outside. She didn’t pick up any noise, but he was probably just out of range.

  She’d catch up with him.

  -o-

  Bram halted on the corner near Café Smit & Voogt. The walk had calmed him down somewhat, but he was still a bit hyper.

  The pedestrian crossing to the Wertheimpark had become more important since the 2010 reconstruction of the Mr. Visserplein, a notorious ‘black spot’ between Waterlooplein, Weesperstraat, Muiderstraat and Valkenburgerstraat, with a relatively high amount of traffic accidents. In an effort to reduce accidents and congestion, the former roundabout had been changed to a two-lane thoroughfare from Weesperstraat through Valkenburgerstraat to the Y-tunnel, by blocking off the Muiderstraat to make the square more pedestrian friendly. Now, traffic travelling towards the city center down the Plantage Middenlaan couldn’t proceed down the Plantage Muiderstraat to the Mr.Visserplein, but had to hook right at Wertheimpark into the Plantage Parklaan.

  Meanwhile, lacking traffic lights, Bram had to cross the pedestrian crossing of the Plantage Parklaan in blind faith, hoping his cane would be sufficient warning to give him the right of way. And the crossing had tram rails in the middle, with traffic islands that hindered more than they helped.

  He stepped from the second traffic island onto the last part of the crossing when a motorcycle engine roared nearby, startling him. His heart climbed in his throat and he stepped back quickly onto the traffic island. As the revved engine wound down, the motorcycle seemed farther away than he had estimated—closer to the parking spots, maybe waiting for someone.

  He heard muffled laughter. Two voices.

  Assholes. Startling him on purpose. Bram thought about walking up to the motorcycle and calling them out. There wouldn’t be more than two of them… He decided against it. Even if there were only two, it was still unwise to engage in a conflict if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

  A chill wind blew into his jacket and Bram held it closed as he crossed to the sidewalk and picked his way across the uneven stones to the entrance of the Wertheimpark. Gravel crunched under his feet as he walked down the path to find an unoccupied bench. The first two benches were occupied by drunks quarrelling in loud voices. The third bench seemed empty. Bram felt the bench to make sure there was no odourless vagrant sleeping on the bench, and sat down to wait for Yun’s arrival
.

  Katla was right about him being upset about her having lunch with Anouk. In a way it was stupid, but he didn’t want her rooting through his past, especially his past with Anouk. The break-up was Anouk’s own fault, but his emotions had gotten the better of him, something that rarely happened, and he’d hurt her. Hurt her more than she deserved to be. Anouk had brought it on herself, in a way, but that didn’t make it less painful. He knew Anouk hadn’t shared with Zeph, so maybe she could be discreet enough, but Katla was an expert at extracting information. And, while Bram was pretty sure Katla wouldn’t stoop to force or intimidation, he doubted Anouk’s abilities to resist her more subtle manipulations.

  His thoughts turned to his reason for being at the park.

  Yun had to be placated. He could try to assure him that he wasn’t in any danger, but it would sound odd, as if Bram wielded some kind of restraining power over Loki. Not the kind of information he’d want to get back to the 14K. Still, Katla was unwise to not accept their help. Maybe her ego was in the way, although she usually wasn’t driven by her ego in business matters.

  His watch beeped. Yun was late.

  -o-

  Katla waited at the corner of the Henri Polaklaan and Plantage Parklaan. Even without her binoculars she could see Bram walk down the path and find a seat on the third bench. Over the ear piece she heard his breathing calming down. She could tell the assholes revving the matte-black Suzuki V-Strom had scared him.

  She studied the motorcycle boys—both wore dark gear and black Nolan flip-up helmets, with bandanas covering their lower face and dark glasses despite the overcast weather. They reminded Katla of ‘sicarios’, the hired killers of Colombia, except that this was Amsterdam, not Bogotá. Something about them fueled her paranoia, the way they were waiting, not just hanging around. They had been playing with Bram, but she noticed how they became alert when Tsui Pak Yun shuffled around the corner of café Smit & Voogt, his black Labrador guiding him towards the pedestrian crossing.

  Katla watched the boys climb on their matte-black V-Strom, while they studied the blind man crossing the road.

  The frail Chinese blind man stumbled a bit on the traffic islands separating the tram rails from the road, but regained his balance and was about to cross the second section, when the motorcycle pulled up. The guide dog backed away, but the rider aimed right for the Labrador and ran him down. The passenger whipped a telescopic baton at the blind man’s face.