Overbrook Farms

by Neal Goldstein

  Qwon stomped back to the ER driveway where the rest of her security team was waiting.

  Loman read the name tag on the clerk’s uniform, “Ms. Adams, what’s the name of the patient they brought in?”

  She looked down at her log, “It was a John Doe. No ID.”

  “And that’s the only emergency admission in the last ten minutes or so?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you see where they took the gurney?” he asked.

  She pointed to the treatment room at the back of the hall. He walked over

  and saw three people dressed in scrubs working on a patient lying on the operating table.

  He waited as the woman he assumed was the doctor, who was suturing a wound on the patient’s head, finished the procedure.

  When the doctor removed her gloves and gown, threw them in the receptacle and walked out of the treatment room, Loman approached her and introduced himself.

  “Doctor, can you tell me what happened to the patient?”

  “Severe laceration to his skull. Someone must have hit him with a pipe, or a sap,” she responded.

  Loman could tell from her reaction that there was something more. “Anything else you can tell me about the patient?”

  Her eyes narrowed, “Detective, I’ve been on for 12 hours straight, so I might be a little foggy, but I swear I’ve seen this guy before. He looks like one of the para-medics who transport into here.”

  “Did you ask him what happened?”

  “No. Whoever clocked him knocked him out cold. The wound was so deep we had to anesthetize him.”

  “Is he going to be alright?”

  “I think so. We took a cat scan. There was no brain bleed.”

  As the orderly wheeled the patient out of the treatment room, Loman took a picture of him with his smart phone.

  “Did you see where the EMTs who brought him in went?” he asked the physician.

  “Sorry,” she said as she walked away.

  Loman walked back to the ER driveway where he found Qwon waiting and filled her in. The emergency vehicle that had transported the individual she believed was Hanna Chao was still parked in the driveway. Loman told the police sergeant what he had learned. He showed him the picture he had taken of the victim.

  “I’m not sure, but the victim might have been one of the techs assigned to this wagon. I’m gonna check with PFD dispatch and see if we can get the ID.”

  “You think whoever knocked him out stole the truck and drove it here?” the sergeant asked.

  “Could be.”

  The sergeant shook his head, “Pretty fuckin slick…but why?”

  28

  Later that afternoon, an abandoned warehouse on North Delaware Avenue

  While Loman was waiting to find out if the John Doe was the paramedic assigned to the emergency truck that Qwon followed from the Union League, Len Jarvis and his people were waiting for the doctor to give them the all clear to interrogate Chao.

  They had flawlessly executed the plan to kidnap her. The hardest part was dosing the food she had been served at the banquet with a stimulant that triggered the seizure. Jarvis had placed one of his operatives with the catering service the Union League hired to supplement its waitstaff for special events. His plant, an attractive young woman, convinced the captain to assign her as one of the servers on the VIP table by convincing him that the “optics” would be good for the venue. One look at the old matrons who worked at the League convinced him she was right.

  She sprayed Chao’s salad with a mixture of ethylene glycol and methanol, toxins that trigger epileptic seizures. When the symptoms did not immediately occur, she dosed the main course with more of the toxins. The aggregate effect of the poison made for the dramatic incident, Chao’s collapse from the podium, that although unplanned, was all the more compelling.

  Jarvis had already hijacked the emergency vehicle that was stationed closest to the Union League, and staged the other trucks for the three-card-monte gambit around City Hall. He regretted having to incapacitate one of the emergency technicians to pull off the stunt, but it couldn’t be avoided.

  * * *

  Loman saw the caller ID on the screen; it was Benson. “Benny, is it a boy or a girl?” he asked when he answered the call.

  “A boy.”

  “Mazel-tov!”

  “Thanks. What the fuck happened? I heard on KYW Hana Chao’s missing.”

  “How’s Nikki and the baby?” Loman asked.

  “They’re fine. Stop changing the subject,” Benson responded gruffly.

  Loman gave him a rundown on what he had learned so far.

  “Qwon’s sure she followed the ambulance from the Union League?”

  “That’s what she said. I’m on my way to the MSB to look at the videos from the traffic cameras from South Broad Street to the Hahnemann ER at Broad and Vine. I’ll call you when I figure out how they made the switch. Go take care of your wife and the baby.”

  * * *

  Hunter’s cell phone vibrated, he pulled it out of the side pocket of his cargo pants and looked at the screen. It was Lena. Hunter was at the Art Museum with Haley and Andrea. He had promised to take the girls there so they could see for themselves how his sculptures paled in comparison to the work of real artists. They were with a group of twenty visitors being led by a docent through the contemporary gallery.

  Hunter stepped into the main entrance hall of the museum to take the call. “Are you aware of what’s happening?” Lena asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  She told him the news reports about Hana Chao. “Jake Loman called and asked for you.”

  “I’ll call him when we get back,” he replied.

  “I think he suspects you have something to do with Chao’s disappearance,” she said.

  “Don’t worry. I got to get back to the girls.”

  When he rejoined the lecture, the group was in a small gallery surrounding Constantine Brancusi’s iconic sculpture, ‘The Kiss,’ one of the most prized acquisitions of the museum. The docent was telling them that Brancusi, who had apprenticed with Rodin, had moved from the classic representational art to what most critics consider abstract, although Brancusi disagreed.

  “Brancusi created the work in 1916, from a single block of limestone. He carved it out of the rock instead of casting it like Rodin and other sculptors of that era,” the docent explained. “Most critics say the sculpture reflects the influence of Cubism.”

  When the docent finished her explanation, Andrea showed her a picture of Hunter’s metal sculpture of her and Haley on her smart phone. The docent’s eyes widened, “Were you one of the subjects?” she asked.

  Andrea nodded and pointed at Haley. “Me and my best friend.”

  “Who’s the artist?”

  Andrea pointed at Hunter.

  She looked over at him and shifted her eyes back to the photo. By then others in the group had moved closer to look at the screen.

  “The sculpture in the picture is… incredible. What materials did you use?” she asked.

  “Scraps of copper and bronze and other metals I found in some junk yards.”

  She shook her head, “Amazing. I’d very much like to see it. Is it nearby?”

  “It’s just a hobby,” Hunter responded.

  “Are there more works like this?”

  “Their yard is filled with all kinds of sculptures. Here’s a picture of one Mr. Carson did of my sister,” Andrea said holding up her cell phone.

  The woman studied the screen for an extended time and looked Hunter directly in his eyes, “Copper and bronze scraps?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s extraordinary,” she said, reached in her pocket, took out a card and handed it to him. “Mr. Carson, is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please call me.”

  Just what I need, Hunter thought as he accepted the docent’s card.

  29

  That evening, Overbrook Farms

  Both Benson and Lom
an were waiting when Haley and Hunter returned home.

  “Congratulations,” Hunter said when he walked into his living room. “How’s Nikki and your son?”

  “They’re fine,” Benson said. “We need to talk.”

  “Where the fuck is Hanna Chao?” Benson asked after Haley left the room.

  “I have no idea,” Hunter replied calmly.

  “Don’t hand me that crap,” Benson’s tone was cold.

  “Benny, I don’t know where she is. And before you ask me, I was not involved with anything that happened this evening,” he said and held Benson’s angry stare.

  Benson studied his friend’s face looking for a tell. “OK, but you know something. You suspect Chao sent someone here to kill Haley. Chao used to work for Haley’s grandfather. You told us that you broke into Montgomery’s former security chief’s house and found him dead. There’re too many connections between you and Chao. You’re holding out on me, and I’m gonna get to the bottom of this and then…”

  “I understand, but I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where she is, and I wasn’t involved with what happened.”

  Loman reached in his jacket pocket and grabbed his phone. He accepted the call, “I’ll be right there.”

  Both Hunter and Benson looked over at him.

  “It’s Sam.”

  Hunter smiled. Benson said, “What are you waiting for. Go get your wife.”

  “But how will you get home?”

  “I’ll drive him,” Hunter said.

  After Jake left Benson said, “I’ll call for an Uber.

  Hunter shook his head, “Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

  Neither of them uttered a word until Hunter turned onto the entrance ramp to the Expressway. “I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Benson said breaking the awkward silence.

  “I know.”

  “If the Feds declare this a kidnapping, it’s out of my hands. They’ll come after you, and that’s not gonna be good for you, Lena, or Haley.”

  “Benny, I get it.”

  “They’re not gonna cut you any slack. If I were you, I’d make sure Chao surfaces unhurt real soon. I’m just sayin’.”

  They sat in silence the remainder of the ride, this time without the tension of the beginning of the trip.

  “Thanks, Benny,” Hunter said when he stopped in front of Benson’s house.

  “Don’t fuck this up worse than it already is,” Benson said and got out of the car.

  Hunter called Jarvis as soon as he drove away. “It’s just like you said, Benson and Jake were waiting for me when I got home.”

  “That’s why I didn’t want you involved,” Jarvis replied.

  “So, how’s it going?”

  “Like I said, I don’t want you involved. Don’t worry, we got this.”

  * * *

  They were in a dimly lit interior office in a dark, empty warehouse. The building was damp and drafty and Chao, who was seated in a cold metal chair, was shivering. “Ms. Chao, I know you were involved in the murder of Mr. Montgomery’s son and daughter-in-law,” Jarvis said as he handed her a blanket.

  “Is Michael standing out there watching me?” she asked, as she pointed at the darkness outside the office window.

  Jarvis nodded.

  “I had nothing to do with their deaths,” she responded.

  “Pirolli taped your conversations. We have the tapes.” Jarvis said.

  Was he bluffing she wondered and responded, “You’re lying. Pirolli wasn’t smart enough to do that.”

  Jarvis got right in her face and said, “You’re right about that pompous asshole not being very smart, but he also wasn’t very brave. He always wanted to have some insurance in case the shit hit the fan.”

  She turned away. Chao realized she had to be extremely careful. From the deferential manner with which they addressed her, she believed they had not pierced her cover. She knew that if she slipped up the consequences would be severe, but she had been in much tougher situations before and had always survived.

  She knew what she had to do; she had to divert their attention. Give them some sliver of the truth to focus on that they did not expect. Chao looked Jarvis directly in his eyes and said, “So, what if he did; I wasn’t the one calling the shots. I was following orders.”

  “Whose orders?” Jarvis asked.

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself involved in,” she warned with a shaking voice.

  “So, tell me?” Jarvis pressed.

  “They need the minerals and they’ll kill anyone who gets in their way.”

  “Who needs the minerals?”

  “The DPRK.”

  * * *

  “Do you think she’s telling the truth?” Montgomery asked.

  They were standing in the warehouse outside the office where Jarvis had interrogated Chao. Jarvis shifted his eyes back to the office window and studied the woman who was still inside. “You know her better than anyone else; what do you think?” Jarvis asked.

  “I don’t believe the woman’s capable of telling the truth.”

  “If the North Koreans are calling the shots, they’re more than capable of killing anyone who interferes, including Hanna Chao.” Jarvis said.

  “So, what should we do?”

  “For now, we have to assume she’s telling us the truth and convince her it’s in her best interest to cooperate with us.”

  Montgomery’s expression revealed his lack of enthusiasm. “I seriously doubt Hanna will be cooperative. More to the point, I wouldn’t believe her even if she agreed.”

  “I fully understand your reluctance, and I agree she’s not to be trusted,” Jarvis replied. “The thing is, we need her, and she needs us.”

  “Why do you believe she would cooperate with us?” Montgomery asked.

  “Because no one has seen her son since they landed in Philadelphia,” Jarvis replied.

  “Are you telling me they kidnapped Roger?”

  Jarvis nodded.

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know,” Jarvis responded.

  When they entered the office, Chao glared at them.

  “Hanna, it’s time we put our differences aside,” Montgomery said as they sat down across from her.

  “How dare you. You and your flunky,” she said as she pointed at Jarvis, “poisoned and kidnapped me! Are you going to murder me now?”

  “Hanna, stop with the hysterics. You and the people you represent murdered my son and daughter-in-law. If killing you would bring an end to this madness, I would have done it myself. But I have my granddaughter to protect, and you have your son.”

  Chao’s hate filled expression remained unchanged.

  Jarvis signaled Montgomery with a wave of his hand to stop and calmly asked, “Don’t you care what happens to your son?”

  “Of course, I do,” she replied unconvincingly.

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “I assume he’s at the hotel.”

  “No, he’s not. We know your security staff are all former RGB operatives, and you know what they’re capable of,” Jarvis continued. “We’re your best option to assure your son’s safety.”

  Chao looked from Jarvis to Montgomery, with cold eyes. “Why would you help me?”

  Montgomery looked directly back at her, “To keep Haley safe…and Roger too.” He hesitated for a few seconds. “They’re innocent children. We have to do whatever we can to save them.”

  Chao diverted her eyes for an instant, reengaged and asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  Jarvis told her the plan, as Montgomery stood by with his entire focus on the woman, as if trying to read her mind.

  * * *

  Jarvis called Hunter and filled him in on Chao’s claim that she was being directed by North Korea and didn’t know where they had taken her son. “Do you believe her? Hunter asked.

  “Maybe, but Mr. Montgomery doesn’t.”

  “Well, if she really doesn’t know, she has some skin in the game,”
Hunter responded.

  “I’m not so sure Mr. Montgomery agrees. But either way, we need to have a game plan,” Jarvis said.

  “Agreed. First thing we have to do is get the heat off our backs for grabbing Chao. I’m gonna call Benny. We need to set up a meeting where Chao tells him she was in on it. That it was the only way to get her out from under Qwon Du Pak. That they have her kid.”

  “Do you think he’ll buy that?” Jarvis asked.

  Hunter considered the question, “I think he wants to help. If Chao’s on board and plays along we should be ok. Will Montgomery agree?”

  “Reluctantly. He doesn’t trust her.”

  “And rightfully so.”

  “While I set up the meet with Benny, why don’t you get your people working on a plan to rescue Roger Montgomery?”

  30

  Later that night, Southwest Detectives

  Two hours later Hunter, Jarvis, and Hanna Chao were sitting in separate interview rooms at Southwest Detectives. Frank Benson had questioned them individually. When he finished taking their statements, he briefed his Commanding Officer, Captain William Jamison. Jamison, a big Irishman with red hair graying at the temples and deep blue eyes, listened without making a comment. He scowled and cleared his throat, “Sounds like a load of crap.”

  He picked up a file from the stack on his desk and opened it. “Carson. He the same guy who shot the intruder in the home invasion last week, the one who told you his real name is Charles Hunter?”

  “Yes boss.”

  “You and Loman vouched for him, right?”

  Benson nodded.

  “How long do you know him?”

  “A few years.”

  “You believe he wasn’t involved in nabbing,” he grabbed his cheaters, looked down at the file and said, “Hanna Chao?”

  “I checked out his alibi when it went down. He wasn’t there. I also asked him if he knew where she was. I believe he didn’t know. Based on our relationship I’m pretty certain he wouldn’t lie about that. But, if you’re asking me if I believe he told me the emess, no.”