by Easton, Don
“I like pizza,” said Hang, using her hands to wipe her tears. Later, while gorging herself on pizza, Hang turned to Pops and nervously said, “My father has a phone. He asked that I call him.”
“I think you should. He must be worried.”
“I have not talked to him for six months—no, weeks,” replied Hang. “I worry about my sister and grandmother, too.”
Pops checked his watch and said, “With the time difference, it is now about four in the morning there. Maybe a little early for a call. Let’s wait a few hours.”
Hang nodded in agreement.
Pops spied Hang’s extra thumb and gently reached out and touched it. “I was told about this. Does it cause you pain?”
Hang quickly withdrew her hand from the table and placed it on her lap.
“Please, I did not mean to embarrass you,” said Pops. “I just wondered if it caused you any pain.”
“It does not hurt” replied Hang, matter-of-factly. “Only in my head it hurts. Not real pain.”
Pops smiled knowingly and said, “If you like, in time, I will have a surgeon remove it for you. But that will be your decision. It does not bother me at all.”
Hang smiled and brought her hand back into view. “I think I would like that. To be the same as other children. My sister does not have this problem. She is perfect.”
“Your sister ... I understand the next ship leaves in three days. Do you think she will like it here? I bet you miss her?”
“Yes, very much,” she admitted.
“I hope you will be happy here,” said Pops.
Hang beamed. Words were not necessary.
“Your English is very good, but in a few days we will start you on home-schooling. Right now, I bet you are exhausted.”
Hang smiled and said, “Yes. I am very tired.”
“If you’ve had enough to eat, go to your room and take a nap. I’ll wake you in a couple of hours and then you can call your dad.”
Hang went to her room and climbed into bed. She had never slept in a bed so big. Or on a mattress and pillow that was so soft. Too soft for what she had become used to. She elected instead to lie on the floor and cover herself with a blanket. She fell asleep immediately and slept soundly until she was awakened a few hours later by a gentle knock on her door.
A few minutes later, she sat at the kitchen table with Pops, who picked up a cellphone on the table.
“Do not say anything on the phone about the ship or the name of who smuggled you into the States,” he cautioned. “It is risky for you to call home now, because the American police monitor calls to foreign countries. Especially a communist country like Vietnam.”
“I understand,” said Hang.
“Tell your dad how excited you were to see the American border sign when you arrived. That would be good. If the police are listening, they would think you drove across the border as people are supposed to.”
“Okay,” said Hang.
“Do you think your sister will be happy here? I understand the next ship leaves in three days.”
“It would be an honour for her to be in your house, Mister Pops.”
“I think it would be better for you if she was here. There is another girl that wants to come. It must be decided now. I can only have two girls and I think it better that you have your sister. Don’t you?”
Hang was startled to learn that there was a possibility that another girl may be selected. “Yes, I want my sister,” she said quickly. “She is kind and polite. She will be no trouble for you.”
“Your dad must miss you. Won’t it be nice when he can come and live here, too?”
“You think he can?” asked Hang.
“Not right away. But think about it. You are free to become anything you want in this country. You could become a lawyer if you want. Then you could draw up the papers yourself to allow your father to immigrate here.”
“He really wants to come to America.”
“Good. I think we can risk one call right now. In a couple of weeks, when certain papers are in order, you can use the regular phone in the house and call home whenever you like.”
Hang gave Pops the number and he dialled. “It is ringing,” he said, while passing her the phone.
Hang’s call was an excited combination of tears and laughter as she spoke of her new surroundings and her dreams for the future. Pops was generous with the time she could talk and when she was finished, she had spoken at length with her father, Linh, and even her grandmother.
As soon as she hung up, she felt sorrow. She had never been completely away from her family before. Occasionally, in the past, before her father had become a tourist guide, he had to go away for a couple of weeks to work on farms. Even then, Hang still had Linh, who helped her look after Grandmother.
“You look sad,” commented Pops. “Is everything okay?”
Hang nodded and said, “I am okay. I am only sad because I miss them.”
“That is why I wish your sister had come with you. It would make it easier. Your father was told that.”
Hang’s face brightened and she said, “She will come now. You do not need that other girl. She will start the voyage in three days.”
“That’s great,” said Pops, sounding relieved. “Oh, there is one thing I forgot to show you. It is in case the police should ever come before your papers are in order. I have built a secret room in the basement for you to hide in. Come, I will show it to you.”
chapter four
Jack and Laura started their shift by checking with the property managers of the apartment building that the two Russians lived in. The office was located in the main foyer, next to the front entrance of the apartment building itself.
Jack noticed the building was secure, complete with intercom and security cameras, inside and out. After producing identification, Jack and Laura learned that the actual apartment manager was a retired Vancouver city policeman by the name of Derek. A phone call was placed and Derek soon joined them in the office. He was more than willing to assist.
The lease agreement indicated the names were Petya Globenko and Styopa Ghukov. Their occupation said that they were retired schoolteachers. They had each provided Russian passport numbers for identification. The penthouse suite came with two free underground parking stalls, but the Russians indicated they did not have a car.
“Taxis,” commented Laura. “Makes our job easier.”
“Until you turn a corner and suddenly see three taxis in front of you and have to play the old shell game,” replied Jack.
“They usually use a limo service,” said Derek. “From what I’ve seen, they’re big tippers. I presume they’re dopers?”
“We’re not sure,” said Jack. “We were just given their names and told they were bad guys worth looking into. At this point we don’t know anything about them yet.”
“They speak perfect English,” said Derek. “Petya goes by the name Peter. He’s tall, thin, and has short grey hair and a moustache. Styopa is short, chubby, and has a shaved head. They always pay on time and with cash. Guess I don’t need to tell ya, their place costs a bundle to rent. They fit the profile of dopers.”
“I’ll never keep their names straight,” mumbled Laura, before trying to repeat them in her head.
“How about Moustache Pete and the Fat Man?” suggested Jack.
“That’s easier,” she replied.
“Do you know who they associate with, or if they have many visitors?” asked Jack.
“Not that I’ve really noticed ... but come to think of it,” replied Derek, reaching for a journal on the desk and flipping through some pages. “The building has a party room,” he muttered, gesturing to a room with double doors just across the foyer. “They came to me about a week ago ... yes, here it is. They booked the room for tonight. The party starts at nine o’clock.”
“You free tonight?” asked Jack, looking at Laura.
“You bet,” she replied.
“They’re allowed to come in early to s
et up,” said Derek, “but are required to have everyone out no later than two. The room holds fifty people easy. There is also an apartment directly above this office that you can rent for a day or two if you have company arriving. It’s right beside the elevators. They booked it also and said it might be used if any of their party guests drink too much.”
“We would really like to see who attends the party,” said Jack.
“If you like, you could sit in here tonight and watch,” suggested Derek. “Whoever comes to the front door will have a key if they’re a tenant. If not, they will have to be buzzed in, either from an apartment or from the party room. If you’re in here watching you’ll be able to see who goes to the party and who is probably just visiting other tenants. We turn off the lights and close the blinds in here at night so nobody would know you were in here. You want a key?”
Jack smiled, held out his hand, and Derek gave him a key to the main entrance of the apartment and a separate key to the office.
“The office one, I would prefer it if you leave it on the desk tonight when you’re done. As far as the key to the main doors goes, you can keep it until you’re finished your investigation.”
“Much appreciated,” said Jack. “I notice you have security cameras. If need be, could we get a copy later to see who attends the party?”
“That could be arranged. We only hang on to them for a week.”
“Long enough for us to decide if we need them. One more thing.”
“What’s that?” asked Derek.
“What’s your favourite brand of poison?”
Derek smiled and said, “Thanks, but no. I don’t drink anymore. Since I’ve quit the job, I haven’t had to. Anything I can do to help you catch bad guys is fun enough.”
Back at the office, Jack called a contact and learned that the cellphone being used by the Russians was listed to a massage parlour in Surrey called the Orient Pleasure. As the day progressed, he also obtained a list of phone numbers that had been dialled from the cellphone within the last month.
Jack made a photocopy of the list and handed it to Laura and said, “Check out who the Canadian numbers are registered to. There are a lot of area codes here I don’t recognize. I’ll ...”
“What are you two up to?” asked Quaile, entering their office.
Jack glanced at him and said, “Laura and I are working on a pair of Russians.”
“What are they involved in?”
“Not sure yet, we’re just getting started.”
“We’re a little too busy, don’t you think, to be working on people when you don’t know what they’re even involved in?”
“We know they’ve met with the higher echelon of Satans Wrath. We think they’re worth looking at.”
“Satans Wrath again? Still working on bums, I see. Well, keep me apprised.” With that comment, he turned and sauntered back to his own office.
“What was that all about?” wondered Jack.
“Maybe he’s decided to take an interest in police work,” suggested Laura.
“As long as we dress like we’re going to church and don’t claim overtime, he’s never cared before.”
Jack shrugged off Quaile’s intrusion and checked to see who owned the Orient Pleasure. It was listed under the name of Tran Dúc, who, Jack discovered, lived in a house in Surrey. A further inquiry revealed that Dúc had a lengthy criminal record for assault, armed robbery, keeping a common bawdy-house and extortion. Most of the convictions were more than six years old and there was nothing recent.
As the day progressed, Jack and Laura discovered that many of the numbers called from the Russians’ cellphone were to such places as Afghanistan, Russia, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Thailand, Vietnam, and Korea. A couple of others were to Sweden.
“These guys work for the United Nations?” joked Laura.
“Afghanistan is a great country to go to if you want to buy a couple of tonnes of heroin,” replied Jack. “Some of these Arab and Asian countries could be smuggling routes.”
“Makes sense,” said Laura, thoughtfully.
“It would, except that why would it make our friend nervous? You think he’d be glad to cut himself a piece of the action.”
“Either that, or simply kill them if they’re too much competition,” said Laura.
“Exactly. I’m going to pass some of these numbers on to Interpol. See what pops up.”
“Don’t hold your breath waiting.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“It will be interesting to see who shows up at the party tonight,” said Laura.
“If any Arab women show up, do you have a burka you could put on, so you could slide in and mingle?”
Laura glanced at him and said, “Excellent idea. And you could put on a pair of donkey ears and come along as an ass. Oh ...” Laura paused and continued, “maybe you don’t need the ears.”
Jack brayed like a donkey and they both laughed.
Hang followed Pops back down to the basement. Pops gestured to the walls with his hand and said, “Watch this.”
Hang saw that the upper half of the basement walls were covered in wood panelling, while the lower half of the walls consisted of dark brown boards that framed large, square pieces of brown panelling.
Pops pushed on a segment of the dark brown board and Hang heard a metallic click. A magnetic latch behind the panel opened to allow the panel to protrude slightly from the wall. Pops pulled on it to release the rest of the magnetic latch and a thick square section in the wall opened up to reveal a passageway.
“See how it is done?” asked Pops. “There is a wooden handle on the back of the door for you to pull shut after you go inside. I do not think you will ever have to use this room, but it is good to be safe.” Pops demonstrated once more, by closing and opening the door again.
“I understand,” said Hang, admiring how perfect the wall looked when the secret door was closed.
“Follow me,” said Pops, crouching down as he took a few steps into the passageway.
Hang followed, pausing briefly as Pops reminded her to close the door behind her. After, she turned and accepted Pops’s hand to stand up as she entered the secret room.
Pops flicked the switch on the wall and a bright overhead light recessed behind wire mesh in the ceiling lit up the small room. Hundreds of shiny brass-coloured screws shone down from where the bare plywood was screwed to the ceiling. The walls and floor were covered in crimson enamel paint.
Hang saw a toilet in the centre of the room, close to a sponge mattress on the floor. On one wall was a large calendar. How long do I have to hide if the police come? The room was dank and musty. Hang shivered and saw a propane bottle attached to a portable heater sitting beside one wall. It was not turned on.
“Nobody would ever find me in here,” said Hang.
“That’s right. They won’t,” nodded Pops with satisfaction.
Everything made sense to Hang except for one thing. Two piles of chains lay on the floor on each side of the room. She walked over and picked up a handful of chain and asked, “What is this for?”
Pops just smiled.
She saw that one end of the chain was bolted to a metal ring on the floor ... and she spotted the shackle on the end that dangled in her hand. Fear gripped her body like a vice as she slowly turned her head to stare up at Pops.
“Put it on,” he said. His voice was menacing as he loomed over her, threatening her with a fist.
Hang shook her head, too frightened to speak. She stepped back and quickly tried to swing the chain at Pops’s face, but he grabbed her around the throat with one hand, smashing her down on the floor and landing on top of her.
Hang tried to yell and clawed frantically at the hand squeezing her throat. He grabbed at her fingers with his other hand. She heard a sound like the crunch of celery and felt the searing pain in her fingers when he snapped them backwards.
Hang writhed and kicked out violently with her feet. Pops punched her hard in the side of her ribs. She continued t
o squirm and gasped at the intense pain in her side with every breath she took. His next punch buried deep into her stomach, forcing what air she had to come gurgling past the hand clamped to her throat and out through her mouth and nose.
She realized Pops was standing at the opposite end of the room with a bemused look on his face. She leapt to her feet and dashed toward the passage door. The chain went taut and she fell on her hands and knees, far short of her goal. It was then that she looked down at the shackle chained to her ankle and realized that she had been unconscious.
Hang knew she had nothing to lose and screamed as loud as she could, while cringing and waiting for the next attack.
Pops did not move. Instead of trying to silence her, he started to laugh. She screamed again and again ...
“Go ahead!” yelled Pops. “Louder! Louder!” he shouted with glee. His laughter and Hang’s screams filled the room. “Come on, you can do it!” he shouted. “Let me hear you scream!”
Hang’s screams eventually became hoarse rasping cries of anguish. She stopped and held her face in her hands, before dropping to her knees on the floor and sobbing.
“Please, Mister Pops,” she cried. “No. Why are you doing this to me? Please let me go.”
“Maybe some day I will,” he said. “Or maybe I won’t.”
Pops took a red felt marker from his pocket and with a smile at Hang and a flourish of his arm, circled a date on the calendar that was exactly two weeks away. He made three more circles on the calendar in the week following the first circle.
“You will have two weeks for behaviour modification,” he said. “These circles represent something special. There will be a different surprise for you on each red-circle day.”
Pops hesitated as his hand hovered near the light switch and said, “I’ll leave this on. Have a good sleep.” He ducked into the passageway and Hang heard the click and the creak of the secret door as it opened and closed behind him.
She immediately got to her feet and walked to see how far the chain would let her go. She could just reach the centre of the room where the toilet and mattress were. She carefully checked out the chain where it was attached to the floor. There was nothing she could break or undo.
