“Like I said earlier, we’re investigating, and as soon as we know more, we’ll report on it. That’s all for now.”
The reporter turned to the camera. “You heard it here first on KTVU. The man responsible for the worst mass shooting to affect the Bay Area has been killed. Twenty people were shot dead today, and as it stands, only a handful have been identified.” The reporter adjusted her earpiece. “Just a minute, I’m receiving word that we have confirmation on some of the victims at the shelter.”
Images of three victims then filled the screen as the reporter went on to say they were all employees of the shelter.
“I know that lady,” Xiaolian said as a picture of Massey, the director of the shelter, appeared on the screen. “She was very nice to me.”
While watching, the man wondered if it was really over. Had the police really caught the person responsible? Was it safe to go on with their plan?
After another twenty minutes passed, the reporter claimed they had more breaking news. The police had released a picture of the shooter. Seconds later, the face of an Asian male appeared.
The doctor leaned forward, looking closely at him. He quickly snapped a photo with his phone so he could study it further. As the reporter went on to say that this was the man responsible for the deaths that day, he peered at the photo.
Why does he look familiar?
He wracked his brain, searching for information. And then it dawned on him. The police had indeed caught the man responsible, only they hadn’t caught the other one.
“Is it finally over?” the girl asked.
He looked over at her and shook his head. “I don’t think it’ll ever be over.”
Chapter Fifty-One
It was late and CSI was still processing the crime scene outside my house. I offered to give Kang a lift back to the office so he could retrieve his car, but instead he just had me drop him off at his place. He didn’t live very far from me, just on the other side of Russian Hill.
“I’m beat. I just want to go home, take a shower, and crawl into bed.”
“That makes two of us,” I said.
“Are you bringing everyone back to the house?”
One of the lab techs walked by us as we got into my vehicle.
“I think I’ll keep them at the hotel for now. I don’t want them seeing any of this.”
“Probably already saw it on the news.”
“You’re right. And I’m sure every kid in school will bring it up to them.”
“It’s unavoidable.” Kang secured his seatbelt.
During the drive, we fell silent for a few minutes, though my thoughts were still racing. “We’re still nowhere with Xiaolian,” I said, breaking the silence.
“I know,” Kang said. “Anyone who we might have wanted to question is dead.”
“I think that was the point. In the end, they won and we lost.”
“I guess you could look at it that way. Maybe this ‘they’ are the ones who took Xiaolian.”
“I wonder if ‘they’ should have gotten her from the very beginning,” I said.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Maybe Chow was supposed to deliver her to someone and not to our offices—somehow instructions got mixed up or someone gave him the wrong information.”
“And all of what happened today was simply the righting of the wrong?”
“I know I’m reaching, but I’m just trying to figure out Xiaolian’s role in all of this. And yes, I do believe she’s the center of it all.”
“I’m with you on that.” Kang let out a soft breath. “The problem is everything we’re discussing right now is just theory. It’s us trying to find a rationale, and the truth is we could be one-hundred-percent wrong.”
“I know. We may be so far off of the mark it’s laughable.”
I came to a stop outside of Kang’s Victorian. He lived alone. His girlfriend, now ex, had moved out a while ago, at least a year.
“Let’s not get wound up about it right now,” he said as he opened his door. “We’ve both had a long day. We’ll get a good night’s sleep and come at this fresh in the morning.”
“Sounds good.”
I waited until he reached his front door and went inside before driving off. Kang was a good guy. Who would have thought when we first met in Chinatown that we would end up being partners? Not I, that was for sure. My first impression of him had been dismal. Luckily he recovered well.
I got back to the hotel a little after midnight. There was a small living room area with two couches. Ryan had passed out on one, with the TV still on—a martial arts movie. I switched it off and then checked the bedroom. Lucy and Po Po were asleep on the bed.
I took a quick shower and then lay down on the couch opposite Ryan. I had just closed my eyes when I heard him say my name.
“Abby?”
“Yes.”
“Will the agent who got shot be okay?”
“He will. Why do you ask?”
“It makes me sad that he got hurt.”
“It makes me sad too.”
“It could have been you who got shot.”
I thought about my answer for moment as I lay there in the dark. I decided honesty was in order. “You’re right. It could have been me, but what you need to know is that I will always do everything in my power to ensure that I don’t get hurt.”
“But you can’t always control everything.”
“That’s true. Keeping others, including you, your sister, and Po Po safe from bad guys can be dangerous.”
“Someone’s gotta do it.”
I chuckled at his honesty. “You’re right.”
“You know what? I like helping people too. Today at school I helped a boy who was being bullied.”
“What happened?” I turned over to my side so I was facing Ryan.
“A kid from a higher class was picking on this smaller kid. I don’t know all of the background, but the smaller kid wasn’t trying to fight him. He just wanted to be left alone, but the bigger kid kept pushing him.”
“So what did you do?”
“I told the bigger kid to leave him alone.”
“And then what?”
“He told me to f-off?”
“What? Tell me this kid’s name. I’ll call his mother and—”
“Don’t worry, Abby. I handled it.”
“Oh, did you? And exactly how did you handle it?”
“Let’s just say when he told me he would knock me out, he didn’t make good on his promise.”
“Where were all the teachers?”
“We were in the boys’ bathroom, but I’m not telling you this because of the fight. What I’m trying to say is, even though this other kid was bigger than me, I knew the smaller kid couldn’t protect himself. I at least know martial arts, so I had a shot. So I did what you do—I protected him from the bad guy.”
I couldn’t have been any prouder of Ryan at that moment, and I told him so before telling him to go to back to bed. For the first time since I’d been involved in my children’s lives, I felt like I had truly done something right as a mom, something that had a positive effect.
Chapter Fifty-Two
With the city’s mass murderer dead, I saw no reason to keep the kids home from school and broke the news to them while we were having breakfast in the suite.
“Awww, man. Why so fast?” Lucy stabbed her waffles with her fork. “I haven’t even had a chance to unwind.”
“Why do you need to unwind?” I asked.
“I have a lot on my mind. Everyday it’s nonstop.”
I started to laugh.
“I’m serious,” she said.
And I could see that she was, but the thought of an eight-year-old complaining about her daily decisions… well, it was a bit much.
“Okay, okay. So you have a lot on your mind. Guess what? It gets worse as you age.”
“Really? This is what I have to look forward to? More decisions? Oh my goodness.”
Not l
ong ago, Lucy had discovered Shirley Temple during a marathon showing on one of the cable channels and began channeling the curly-haired singer. ‘Oh my goodness’ had fast become her favorite saying. She also started talking more while resting her hands on her hips. She even asked me if she could get a perm. Ryan and I had made a bet on how long this phase would last. I had it at under month, he had it at over.
We were closing in on a month. Ryan sat across the table from me and bounced his eyebrows at me twice and then pointed to his watch. He would win this bet and get his wish. Ever since he heard of the intern program run by the FBI for teenagers, he’d bugged me to let him sign up when he was of age.
I was on the fence with his interest in law enforcement. I knew how dangerous and unforgiving the job could be—it was not something I wanted for him. I preferred something safe and stable, like a dentist or a banker or even a developer like his father. But after his revelation the night before, maybe he was suited for a career in law enforcement. There are many types of jobs in that industry that didn’t involve getting shot at by the bad guys. He certainly had the smarts to be an analyst or maybe work as a crime scene investigator.
After we checked out of the hotel, I dropped the kids off at school and then drove Po Po home. I changed into fresh clothing and headed into the office.
I bumped into Kang in the lobby. “Howdy, pardner.”
“Morning,” he said. He carried a brown paper bag in one hand. “Sleep okay last night?”
“Slept fine. Could have slept longer. What’s in the bag?” I asked, knowing full well it was something edible.
“Bao.”
He reached into the bag and removed a fluffy, white bun and handed it to me. I quickly took a bite. The warm, sweet bun was stuffed with seasoned braised pork.
“Mmmm,”
As we rode the elevator up to our floor, we bit, chewed, and swallowed while continually grunting like a couple of cavemen in suits enjoying the spoils of a hunt.
We exited the elevator onto a floor that was usually flowing with a buzz and a whole lot of hustle from agents working their investigations. That morning it was different. Everyone had heard about Pratt’s death, and it was a reminder that we were vulnerable and could end up on the losing end.
Kang’s one-year anniversary with the Bureau was coming up. Probably not the best time to throw a celebratory dinner with the agents we worked closely with. Hansen and Pratt were two of them. Still, I didn’t want to forget about it. It was a big deal for Kang to leave the SFPD, and I wanted him to feel like he’d made the right choice. Sure, I talked his ear off about how wonderful it would be to work with moi, his favorite agent, but I knew deep down inside it wasn’t a deciding factor. Kang made his own decisions. He never did tell me what had convinced him to do it. He just said he’d given it some thought and decided it was a good move.
If I don’t bring it up now, the day will come and go. “So I was thinking…”
“I’m not interested in having a celebratory dinner for my one-year anniversary with the Bureau,” he said.
“What makes you think I was talking about that? I just said I was thinking.”
“I know you, Abby. Look, I appreciate the thought, but now’s not the time.” He made a stinky face as he held both palms up.
“It’s the perfect time. This is about you, not about what happened last night. It was unfortunate and we all feel badly, but it shouldn’t take away from you and your productive year here. Plus we need to eat anyway.”
“I don’t know, Abby.”
“Okay, how about dinner at my place? I’ll invite House and Reilly, that’s it. We’ll keep it small and informal. We’ll grill in the backyard. In fact, we’ll make it potluck. You can make your famous Japanese-style potato salad.”
Kang mulled my proposition for a moment or so. “Okay, that’s sounds fine. Thanks, partner.”
“No problem, man-who-always-feeds-me-tasty-food.” I then reached into the bag and grabbed another bao. “When you worked with Sokolov, did you feed him as well?”
Kang shrugged. “Sometimes. He really likes his Russian food. It’s specific, and you either have to make it yourself or buy something from one of the Russian delis in the Inner Richmond.”
“Should we ask him and Bennie to join us? It’s not a problem.”
“Why not? He likes meat.”
“Okay, it’s settled. This weekend at my house.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Over the course of the next two days, we got absolutely nowhere with our investigation into Xiaolian’s disappearance. She had vanished just as mysteriously as she had appeared. We even questioned Medina and Watts again about the shipments at the port, but they both confirmed it was always Chow and his crew that showed up. They never saw anyone else.
The only interesting thing to pop up was learning the cause of death of Yu, the lawyer. Dr. Green had moved pretty fast on the autopsy of the body. Kang had decided not to tag along, so I went over to his office by myself.
The Office of the Medical Examiner was located on Bryant Street, tucked away inside the Office of Justice. Over the years, I had made many trips there and had gotten to know Green fairly well. During that time, he developed a schoolboy crush on me. I did use it to my advantage at times when I needed something from him, I had to admit. But mostly I tried to treat the gentle doctor as a colleague and a friend.
I waited in a sanitized space they called a waiting room. Cold and medical described it best. Green appeared through double swinging doors wearing a white lab coat that always looked a size too large for him—his hands disappeared into the sleeves.
He still wore the small Ben Franklin spectacles that rested on the bump of his nose; bushy eyebrows lived above them and were equally matched by his unkempt hair.
Underneath the unbuttoned coat, he wore one of his many colorful T-shirts. That day he wore a light-blue shirt with a quote on the front: “If it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.”
“So nice to see you, Abby,” he said in a soft voice.
He opened his arms and went in for the hug. I was faster and extended my arm for a handshake. Green hugged longer than most, and he and I were about the same height, so a friendly embrace between us looked more than what it really was. There were others in the waiting room that day, and I felt I needed to keep our greeting professional.
“I see you have yourself a new earring,” I said. He always wore a tiny diamond stud. That day a silver and turquoise piece dangled from his earlobe.
“Yes, a present from my niece. She recently took a jewelry-making class, and I’m the lucky recipient of one of her works of art.”
“It suits you just fine. Lucky you.”
“Come on.” He motioned toward the double doors. “Do you know the difference between a corpse and a bore? They’re both stiffs.” Green chuckled at his own joke while pushing one of the doors open.
The scent of patchouli wafted off of Green as I followed him down a long corridor. The fluorescent lighting above buzzed louder than usual, but at least the flickering had been curbed since my last visit.
He stopped outside a familiar green door. The room inside was where Green performed all of his autopsies. From what I understood, only he used it. The other medical examiners used one of the other autopsy rooms.
Green was a bit eccentric, but he was the best in the city, perhaps even the country. He loved investigating the dead. “It’s just me and that person having a one-on-one conversation about what happened,” he had once mentioned to me.
Inside were four stainless steel tables surrounded by gutters. Yu’s body was the only one in the room and lay under a gray sheet on the table farthest from the door.
“Slow day, huh?” I said.
“Dead slow.” Green’s smile grew, and his shoulder’s bounced a little.
He removed the sheet and revealed Yu’s naked body. The man had a pleasant look on his face, as if he had died peacefully. A Y incision had been made lengthwise
down the middle of his torso and had yet to be stapled shut.
“Care to take a guess?” Green asked.
“Heart attack?”
“You’re partially right.”
“How can I be partially right?”
“He did suffer a massive heart attack, and that’s what ultimately killed him, but the real culprit is what caused the heart attack.”
“Huh?
“Have you ever heard of potassium chloride?”
“I know you get potassium from eating bananas.”
“You’re right. Potassium chloride is made up of potassium and chlorine, and both are compounds naturally found in the human body. But high levels of potassium can cause tachycardia, which is a fast heart rate. This can lead to a heart attack.”
“So when the potassium chloride breaks down, it leaves no trace, and the result is what seems to be a naturally occurring heart attack, right?”
“Very good.” Green smiled as he nodded.
“So how can you be sure this was the cause?”
Green snapped on latex gloves before using a cavity spreader to pry Yu’s chest apart. Once open, he reached inside and lifted up Yu’s heart so we were looking at its backside. “You see how this area is blackish in color?”
“Yeah…”
“A high concentration of potassium chloride can cause discoloring to the heart.”
“So what did he do, eat twenty bananas really quickly?”
“Injection would be the likely method. However, I found no defensive wounds or bruising on his forearms, also no foreign DNA was found under his nails to suggest he fought someone off.”
“So are you saying he committed suicide?”
Green moved around to Yu’s feet. He took his left foot and lifted it slightly. “Look right here. See that hole? That’s where he injected himself. I’m guessing if you go back and search that house again, you’ll likely find a syringe somewhere.”
“Everyone else connected was executed. Why Yu would commit suicide is a bit baffling. Unless he was the man responsible for ordering the hits.”
[Abby Kanem - SG 01.0] Suitcase Girl Page 19
