Kowloon Bay (Abby Kane FBI Thriller Book 3)

by Ty Hutchinson

  She sat there with pursed lips before taking a sip of her tea and swallowing. “Peng was good man. Why so hard for you to believe he can get good girl?”

  “I agree, but this marriage was arranged. That tells me it wasn’t the typical courtship. The details would have been discussed first by you and Mei’s parents. Then Peng and Mei would have been clued in.”

  “This arrangement not work same way,” she said.

  I couldn’t understand why Po Po was being so tight-lipped about the subject. Then again, she probably wondered why I found the arrangement so unlikely.

  “I’m asking because it’s information about Peng, something that always interests me. We never really discussed his previous marriage and now that he’s gone… It’s just, I don’t know, it’s something I feel I want to know.”

  Po Po let out a soft breath. “Peng meet Mei at dance. They know each other first. I didn’t know Peng see Mei and her parents didn’t know either.”

  “I can imagine they weren’t thrilled when they did find out.”

  “They forbid Mei from seeing Peng. They also tell him to not contact her again.”

  Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.

  “I think Peng and Mei listen, but they keep their relationship. And then…”

  Yeah, and…

  Po Po took another sip of her tea.

  Yeah, and…

  “Mei pregnant.”

  Ah-ha! Now it all made sense. The arrangement was out of necessity. “So that’s the reason why they married? Mei’s parents thought it better to marry than to have their daughter give birth to a baby out of wedlock?”

  Po Po nodded her head. I couldn’t quite tell if she was upset about what had happened or sad about it. “Mei’s parents not happy but say they must marry. They come up with story of how Peng and Mei meet to tell everybody. They lie about where Peng come from.”

  “Wow, they sound like wonderful people,” I said with an eye roll.

  Po Po grunted in agreement.

  “I take it you didn’t exactly get along with them.”

  “I do what make Peng happy.”

  We sat quietly while I absorbed everything Po Po said to me. I didn’t know Mei’s parents, but if I did, I probably wouldn’t like them either. The marriage was nothing more than a way for them to save face. As I mulled that thought, something else popped into my head, something I remember Peng telling me about Mei’s parents.

  “Maybe I heard wrong, but I could have sworn that Peng told me Mei’s parents died in a car accident shortly before Ryan was born. Is that right?”

  Po Po averted her eyes to the bay.

  “Well, did they or didn’t they?” I asked again.

  She looked back at me. “No. Mei’s parents still alive.”

  Chapter 22

  A wake-the-hell-up slap across my face. That was what hearing Po Po’s words felt like. Not that she intended it to have that effect.

  “Wait, what? You mean to tell me Ryan and Lucy have other living grandparents besides you? How can that be? They’re supposed to be dead, right?”

  Not a single phone call. No letters or birthday cards or Christmas presents. No acknowledgement of the kids. None whatsoever. What sort of grandparents do something like that? We—well, the kids and I—were under the impression that they had died, but, no, they just didn’t give a damn.

  I sat dumbfounded. How could this be? Why on earth would Po Po and Peng keep something like this from me? I reached over and placed a hand on Po Po’s thigh. “Please tell me this is just a very unfunny joke.”

  “This why I not want talk about Mei. Only cause problems. Now you upset.”

  “Upset? You think I’m upset? That doesn’t even begin to convey how I’m feeling right now,” I said, trying to keep my voice from rising. “You knew all these years. Peng knew. How could you two have kept this from me, from the kids?”

  I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. They have no idea. “You know, you seem awfully calm about this.”

  Po Po let out a small breath. “After we agree to marriage, Mei’s parents change mind. They tell Mei to take baby out but she refuse.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Po Po nodded. She said Mei’s parents were adamant about her having an abortion. When Mei refused and told them she would still marry Peng, they completely cut her out of their lives. Po Po felt it was better that way if they couldn’t accept Mei’s child and the man she loved.

  From that point, there was no contact. Po Po said it was fairly easy to carry on without them. Peng and Mei had never associated with her parents’ friends, and they were never told that Mei was married or even had a child. Po Po said Mei wasn’t entirely sure what story her parents told to explain Mei’s sudden disappearance from their lives. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with them after their admission of what they thought of the unborn child.

  I continued to shake my head in disbelief. “So are they still living in Hong Kong at the moment?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do they know Mei had a second child? Do they know about Lucy?”

  “I don’t know.”

  By then, Po Po had started to nod off. I gave her a hug and told her to go to bed. After she left, I remained out on the balcony late into the night. To know my kids’ own blood wanted nothing to do with them broke my heart. For their sake, there was no way I would ever tell them this secret.

  Learning that Mei’s parents were still alive—and that they apparently hated my husband—also opened up a part of my past that I thought I had closed: Peng’s death. I couldn’t help but think that if I’d known then that Mei’s parents were still alive, perhaps the results of my fruitless yearlong investigation into his murder might have been different. Not that I thought they were the ones who killed him…but, dammit, there was motive.

  Wait a minute, Abby. Are you honestly, seriously considering that?

  I dunno, maybe.

  My modus operandi when investigating a case had always been to chase down every lead, no matter how farfetched it sounded. Thinking the in-laws had something to do with his murder wasn’t a stretch. Most of my time during that year was spent investigating the Triads because of the brutality of the murder. The other area where I concentrated my efforts was with known business associates. A deal gone south seemed to fit the bill as well. But really, I questioned everyone, even Po Po. Had I known Peng’s in-laws were still alive, I would have certainly questioned them. No doubt about that. He impregnated their daughter after they expressly forbade him seeing her. Maybe Mei’s parents never got over her marriage and pregnancy and took their resentment for Peng one step further. Was I even seriously thinking this? Yes.

  There I sat on the balcony of the Shangri-La with a beautiful night view of the harbor in front of me, on holiday with my family, and the only thoughts running through my head at the moment had to do with Peng’s murder.

  Chapter 23

  “It’s good thing I headed over to Dr. Kim’s practice first thing in the morning,” Lee said after swallowing a swig from his water bottle. He dropped into the chair in front of Leslie’s desk.

  “Why’s that?” Leslie asked.

  “He’s retiring. When I got to his office, he and some of his staff were boxing up his files; the equipment had already been sold off. I confiscated everything still on site.”

  “Did he recall having Gerry as a patient?”

  “He said the name didn’t sound familiar, but that that didn’t mean he wasn’t a patient. Some come in once and never come back. He had no problem turning over all the dental records and x-rays. Really, I think he just saw it as a way to wash his hands of the stuff. Nothing was digitized, so I had everything from his practice shoved into boxes and hauled over here. It took two trips. I have it all sitting in a room down the hall.”

  Leslie stood up and rounded her desk, moving toward the door. “And the funeral home?”

  Lee followed. “They claim they have no record of cremating Gerry Ch
ang, nor do they know who Peter Song is.”

  “You believe them?” she asked as they entered the hall. She hung back a little, letting him lead the way. “They might be covering for Song. Maybe he paid them off to perform the cremation and keep it off the record.”

  “I didn’t get that impression. They seemed really buttoned up. You thinking we should look at them a bit harder?”

  “Let’s see where the x-rays get us first.”

  Lee stopped and opened the door to the interrogation room. Inside were about thirty large cardboard boxes stuffed with manila folders.

  “Sheesh, that’s a lot,” Leslie said as she walked over to a box and peeked inside.

  “Yeah and a lot of the files are no longer in their labeled folders. The actual x-rays have a sticker indicating who the patient is. We’ll have to look at every one of them but it shouldn’t take that long. I know you want to help, but it’s not necessary. I can—”

  “It’ll be faster if we both attack it.”

  Lee picked up a box and placed it on the table. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find it right away.”

  “Optimism: the first step toward disappointment.” Leslie pulled a handful of files out of the box and took a seat.

  “Way too stay positive, Boss.”

  They sifted through the files and built another pile of records: x-rays that weren’t Gerry’s. The whole process seemed to move much faster than either thought it would at first—until they began to find x-rays that weren’t labeled.

  “We jinxed it,” Leslie said with a chuckle.

  Lee scrawled Unidentified on one of the empty boxes. “We’ll need Dr. Fang’s help in determining if any of these belong to our skeleton,” he said, drawing out his last few words.

  She looked up and found him chewing on his bottom lip. “What?”

  “I’m thinking what if none of these x-rays match our victim and we don’t get any further with the funeral home? Neither of the cousins matched the DNA we have. Do we stop looking at them?”

  “We might have to. There are a lot of ifs in this case that we don’t have any answers to. We got an unidentified body, which is our biggest hurdle. If we can’t identify it, this might be another cold case filed away. It’s that simple. I don’t like it, but there’s only so much we can do.”

  “I agree. Impossible to build a case if we don’t know the identity of the victim. Are you still thinking this is some sort of friendship deal gone wrong?”

  “It’s the only motive I can see.” Leslie lowered a file. “Peter admitted to lending Gerry a large sum of money—a loan to help Gerry get back on his feet. There could be a third person involved: someone Peter hired to get rid of Gerry.”

  “True. Gerry could also have brought an opportunity to Peter, some questionable action or a bad investment. Whatever the reason, losing HK$200,000 is hard to swallow.” Lee grabbed another stack of folders.

  “Yup. And he saw only one way to right the wrong. If we don’t get a match with these records, I think we dig a bit more. I’m not quite ready to cut them loose yet.”

  “Them? You think Roger’s involved?”

  “I think he might be covering for his cousin, but that’s about it. He doesn’t strike me as the type to kill someone.”

  “And you think Peter’s responsible?”

  “He’s the one with the relationship with Gerry. That could have driven him to do this. Loyal friend screws you over. A lot of people end up dead for doing that.”

  “Makes sense,” Lee said, nodding his head. “You know it seems like we have the right pieces to the puzzle, but we just haven’t found the right way to put it together. We got Peter’s history with the building.” He began a count using his fingers. “His friend Gerry, the one he lent money to, is dead. Decomposition on the body is in line with being buried in the building for fifteen years, so the timing is right. The funeral home couldn’t confirm Peter’s claim that he had Gerry cremated. All of it has me wanting to say ‘yes, we got this,’ but something tells me—even though you’re also nodding—that you don’t believe it.”

  Leslie placed the file she was looking at on the table and leaned back in her chair. “I agree with everything you’re saying. I want it to be Peter. I want that body to be Gerry. But you’re right. I haven’t fully convinced myself. There’s something about this that’s off. There’s a piece of the puzzle we don’t have right now, and I’m not sure I know what it is at the moment.”

  “Maybe there’s a third person involved. I mean, did Peter have help burying the body? Probably. Seems like a two-person job at the least. Did he know the developer? Did he know the crew constructing the building? How sure are we Sheila is innocent in all of this? Right now, we’re under the impression the two never knew each other until the deal to sell the building came to fruition. Could they have history? Did she lie about renovating the building? Maybe Peter approached her. She’s money hungry. Enough could have made her look the other way while he brought a crew in to stick the body in that wall.” Lee blinked, remembering something. “Speaking of Sheila, did she ever produce that contract detailing her purchase of the building?”

  “She hasn’t, and she’s had enough time.” Leslie removed her cell phone and found Sheila’s number.

  “This is Sheila Yang,” the voice said on the other end of the line.

  “Hi, Sheila. This is Inspector Choi. I’m calling to inquire about your efforts with locating that contract.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Things have been crazy on my end. I promise I’ll find it and get back to you.”

  Leslie rolled her eyes. “How about I stop by your place tomorrow as a gentle reminder?”

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary. I’ll get back to you.

  “I’m also hoping a search warrant won’t be necessary either.”

  The line went silent, but Leslie knew they were still connected because she could hear Sheila breathing.

  Lee had a smile on his face as he followed the conversation. A few seconds later, Leslie wrote down an address on a piece of paper. “I’ll see you at nine tomorrow. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  Leslie placed her cell phone on the table. “Well, we still have the developer angle if Peter ends up not being our guy.”

  Chapter 24

  Leslie got a late start the next morning and had to call Sheila, letting her know she would be about thirty minutes late. She and Lee had stayed at HKP Headquarters looking through the x-rays until three in the morning. Although they got through all the labeled x-rays, there were more unlabeled ones than they expected. It would take hours, maybe even an entire day or so, for Fang and his team to manually check each x-ray with the body.

  Sheila lived in one of the newer luxury high-rises cropping up on Hong Kong’s skyline. Hers was called Bay View, and the developers touted it as being a luxury home in the sky. It offered two- and three-bedroom split-level apartments—unheard of for space-crunched Hong Kong, where most apartments focused on fitting as many one-bedroom or studio spaces into a building as possible. It also boasted a rooftop pool, boutique shopping, and retail services on the ground floor, and a four-star restaurant. Apparently slumlording paid well.

  Sheila wore a smile as she greeted Leslie at the door of her twenty-sixth-floor apartment. “Please, come inside,” she gestured with her hand and moved off to the side.

  That was unexpected. Leslie stepped into the foyer and Sheila closed the door behind them. She surveyed the space out of habit. The walls, the stark furniture, the tile floors, the area rugs, everything was white, with the exception of a few houseplants. It was as if she were looking at a museum exhibit on boring and uncomfortable human habitats.

  “My office is back this way. I would offer you coffee but I don’t drink any. Whiskey?” Sheila asked.

  “I’m on the clock.”

  “Oh, that’s right. No drinking and working for the buttoned-up police.”

  Sheila pushed a door open and led the way into a small office that appeared to be the ugly
step-cousin of the rest of the apartment. The centerpiece, a glass-top desk, was littered with filing folders, stacks of paper, old newspapers, unopened mail, a crumpled fast-food package, and a plate with a half-eaten muffin that looked to be several days old. Stacked banker boxes occupied most of the floor. An executive chair with cracked, worn leather sat behind the desk. The walls were bare and the sunlight from the fully exposed windows was relentless.

  “I get that look a lot,” Sheila said. “My workspaces have always been chaotic. I don’t know why. Plus the maid isn’t allowed in here.”

  Uh, I’m guessing it’s because you’re a slob.

  Sheila plopped down on her chair and gestured for Leslie to take a seat before spinning the chair around so she could reach into a black filing cabinet behind her. A half-empty bottle of liquor sat on top of it. “That contract, if I still have it, should be in here somewhere.”

  Leslie crossed her legs but said nothing to indicate her annoyance with Sheila for waiting until she arrived to look for the contract. Sheila muttered continuously while she searched through green hanging folders.

  After ten minutes or so, she pulled out a piece of paper accompanied by a shriek—her eureka moment. “Here it is! I knew I had it,” she said, spinning back around. Her eyes scanned the document as she nodded. “Yes, yes.” She jabbed her finger at the bottom of the paper; it crackled with each stab. “There’s your developer and my exit out of this investigation.” She handed the paper to Leslie.

  Leslie’s eyes shifted toward the bottom of the contract. “Wait, are you sure this is the correct contract?” she asked, crinkling her brow.

  “Sure, I’m sure. Lotus Development, that’s the name of the company. The owner’s name is right there. This is what you’re looking for, right?”

  Leslie frowned. This isn’t good.

  Chapter 25

  The kids wanted a day of pure entertainment, and Hong Kong Disneyland seem to be the best way to provide it. When my phone rang, I was stuck in a chaotic line for the Mad Hatter Tea Cup ride. It was Leslie calling. Even if I hadn’t been ready to put the little boy behind me in a headlock for constantly kicking my heels, I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I was still a little emotional from Po Po’s revelation.