Desert Jade

by C. J. Shane

  Zhou shifted focus to the Tucson Police Department meeting that morning. Had someone in the police department or Homeland Security known that a triad gang member had arrived the day before? Was there someone passing on information to Bao? If there was someone taking a bribe from the triad gang and failing to report Bao’s presence, how was Zhou going to figure out who it was? And the fundamental question remained. What were Hong Kong triads doing in this unlikely part of the world? It made no sense.

  He realized with a start that Letty was one who knew that Zhou was here. Zhou didn't think that she would do anything to jeopardize her friend's safety, but she may have made a casual remark to someone. Would she do that? She seemed very careful about her speech. In fact, she had hardly spoken at all during the meeting. Yet she knew everything. She knew that he was in Tucson, that he was meeting with the cops, and that he was on his way to the airport with Jade. She knew about the triads. Maybe she knew more than she was letting on.

  And now Bao knew not only that Zhou was in Tucson, he also probably knew that Zhou was tracking him down at the car rental agency. And worst of all, Bao knew that Zhou was with Jade.

  Zhou realized that Jade had become very quiet.

  "It's okay," he said. He wanted to reassure her.

  "Was that Bao in that little gray car?"

  "I do not know, Jade. Maybe."

  They didn't speak again until they arrived at Jade's home. She turned on her desktop computer and logged in.

  "It's all yours. I'm going to make some tea."

  Zhou inserted the memory drive and looked at all the transactions at the car rental place from the day before. He didn't have anything to go on but the approximate time that Bao rented the car, plus his own memory of what the car looked like. He found it fairly quickly. As he thought, it was a gray Honda sedan, the kind of car that would easily disappear in traffic unless you were looking for it. He entered the license number into his smart phone and memorized it.

  The person to whom the car was rented was not Bao or Ting. The name on the form was Kevin Kwok.

  When Jade came into the room with tea, Zhou pointed to the form on the screen. He said, "Bao is using this name. He’s using an alias."

  "If it's an alias, he's using the name of a well-known Tucson family."

  "What?" Zhou was surprised. Using the name of a local family might explain why Bao had escaped notice by the local authorities.

  "Yes, the Kwok family has been here in Tucson for a long time, maybe 100 years or more. I don't know if you know about this, but Tucson had a large Chinese community from ...oh, I don't know exactly...maybe the 1880s and after. A lot of them came here to work on the railroads and in the mines. Back then, the Chinese immigrants were mostly men. They would work for a while and then go back to China. Most of them were from southern China around Hong Kong and Canton."

  "Today we say Guangdong, not Canton. How do you know this?"

  "I have lived here for most of my life, and you know how it is. You pick up information at school and from reading the newspaper and talking with people. Also I learned from Seri. She likes history and especially she knows a lot about the history of Tucson. She told me a lot about the Chinese in Tucson when we were traveling around in China."

  "Tell me more, please."

  "Some of the Chinese decided to stay in Tucson. So they sent for their wives, and they started families. They became part of the community. A bunch of them lived in Barrio Viejo, down where the convention center is now. Some of them established little farms over there under A Mountain on the other side of the Santa Cruz River. They produced a lot of Tucson's vegetables and fruits. Later the Chinese opened grocery stores and restaurants. They lived in the Mexican barrios. ‘Barrio’ is the Spanish word for neighborhood.”

  Jade paused, “Am I talking too fast?”

  “I understand. Thank you for the Spanish translations. I speak French, but no Spanish. You use many Spanish words.”

  Jade continued, “There was a lot of discrimination against the Chinese back then. Seri said that in 1901, a law was passed that made it illegal for a white person to marry a Chinese person. There were restrictions on certain land ownership and other restrictions, too. Letty bought an old house built in the 1940s. In the original deed, it says that the owner can't sell the house to anyone who is a Mexican, an Indian, a Negroid or a Mongoloid." Jade shook her head. "'Mongoloid' means an Asian person. It's ironic that the house is now owned by a woman who is half Mexican and half Native American."

  "Letty is two races?" Zhou asked.

  "Sort of. I guess you could say that. It's complicated. Depends on how you define the word ‘race.’ She's half Mexican and half Tohono O'odham. Her little brothers and little sister are full O'odham. They have different fathers."

  “They are American citizens?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m just talking about race, not nationality or citizenship. We’re all American citizens. Except for you!” she grinned.

  "The Kwok family is one of the first Chinese families in Tucson?" Zhou asked

  "I think so. I'm pretty sure that the Kwok family was one of those early immigrant families. More Chinese came from Mexico after the 1910 Revolution. Then more came after World War II and later, even more came, but they were from all over China, not just that small area in the south. Some of the families did quite well and became wealthy."

  "And the Kwok family?"

  "Yes, they are among the wealthy or at least quite affluent. There are a bunch of Kwoks. Every generation had at least four or five kids. I don't know Kevin Kwok personally. I just know the family name. There are doctors and lawyers and owners of different kinds of businesses. They are an important family in Tucson."

  "Very interesting. Perhaps Bao has a relationship with the Kwok family."

  "But why would Bao use the Kwok name? Wouldn't he try to hide their relationship?" Jade asked.

  "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe Bao does not care. He is very arrogant. Maybe he assumes that no one will know. Maybe he feels safe. Perhaps he thinks he moves around without being observed. I am not certain now what Bao thinks and knows. There could be a simple explanation. Maybe he stole the Kwok name."

  "Identity theft. But wouldn't Kwok know that his identity was stolen?"

  "If Bao does not attempt to use a credit card with the Kwok name, or if Bao does nothing illegal using the Kwok name, then there is no warning to Kevin Kwok. You see here on this record, Kevin Kwok paid cash for the car rental. No credit card record. No advance reservation."

  "Usually you have to show identification to rent the car."

  "No problem. It is easy to get counterfeit identification."

  "How do you know so much about this guy Bao?"

  "Two years past, I worked to stop human sex trafficking from Hong Kong to Australia. A triad gang took young teen girls from the countryside, often Fujian Province, promised them a good job, and then forced them to work as prostitutes. Sometimes they serviced twenty men each day. The gang takes all the money. The girls never see home again. They often die of AIDS or another disease. Many kill themselves from despair."

  "Oh, that's horrible."

  "Yes. Very bad life for girls. This triad gang is part of the old Wo Hop To group. This gang’s leader is a woman named Ting. Chong Ma is her Red Pole. Bao is a younger member. They are known as 49ers."

  "Red Pole?"

  "What you call ‘enforcer.’ Red Poles are often former military men. They typically lead a group of fifty 49ers who are the foot soldiers. Ting gives orders to kill. Chong tells Bao or another 49er to kill. Or sometimes, Chong does the killing himself."

  Zhou returned to the computer. "Where I should look to find information about the Kwok family? A simple Google search?"

  Jade sat beside him. "Yes. Do that and also let's look at the local newspaper archives. But we should ask Letty when we see her again. She's really good at finding out details about people. She does background checks all the time as part of her investigative work."

/>   After a half hour of searching the archives of Arizona newspapers, they managed to put together a folder of articles and other documents on the various branches of the Kwok family. Many lived in Tucson, others in Phoenix, and a few had migrated to cities across the U.S., including San Francisco, San Diego, and New York City. There was scant mention of Kevin Kwok. According to his Catalina Foothills High School graduation announcement, he had won a scholarship and was headed for the University of Colorado. After that, there was a gap of four years, then Kwok returned home and opened a real estate office in Tucson.

  Jade counted on her fingers. "That was twelve years ago so he will be thirty years old now. He's two years older than me. I went to Tucson High so I didn't know him. Look. Here's the website for his real estate business."

  The website had little information about Kwok. There was a photo of a smiling young man dressed casually in a white knit polo shirt and khaki pants. Most of the information on the site was about homes for sale in and around the city. Everything on the website was out of date.

  "Please look on Facebook," Zhou said.

  Sure enough there was a Kevin Kwok, several Kevin Kwoks, in fact.

  Zhou shook his head. "So many. This will take some time. Some of these people give out their private information so easily."

  Jade laughed. "Right. That's one of the problems. I'm a teacher, and I was warned to be careful about what I put on my Facebook page. I've been thinking about going to Google Plus because my students are not there. They aren't supposed to be on Facebook either, but they are there anyway. They are too young. That's why teachers should be careful about what they post. It's too public."

  "You are on Facebook? I want to see." Zhou grinned.

  Jade smiled and logged into her account. They spent some minutes looking at the photos and her recent postings which were few and mostly about meetings with friends. There were photos of her with a group of women eating together at what looked like some kind of outdoor festival. The photo album was titled "Tucson Meet Yourself," and it dated back three months to October. Jade was smiling. As he went back in time, postings became fewer and stopped altogether, then there was a flurry of messages about a year earlier. All were pleas for help in finding Carlos.

  Zhou looked at Jade. "I am sorry. I make you remember."

  "It's okay. I just wish I knew what happened. If Carlos is dead, I wish I could have his remains so we could have a memorial service for him. Then I could let go and move on."

  "Carlos knew Kevin Kwok?"

  "I don't know Kwok, and I know a lot of the same people that Carlos knew. But I guess anything's possible. Carlos was very outgoing and friendly. He knew tons of people. But Carlos never mentioned Kevin Kwok. I really don't know, Zhou. I don't remember anyone by that name."

  Zhou turned to the computer again. "You would I think find now maybe?"

  "Say what?" Jade giggled.

  "Sorry, Jade. I’m speaking Chinglish. Please help me to improve my English."

  "Your English is great. You have a degree from a British university!”

  “Yes, but that is all academic English, and British English as well. Your American English is different. American English is very dynamic. It changes constantly. You Americans create new words, and you borrow words from other languages. You have slang and idioms. And those dreadful things called phrasal verbs. You know? You combine a verb and a preposition to make an entirely new meaning.” Check in, check on, check out, check up, check for; throw on, throw at, throw up. ‘Throw up’ means to vomit! Listen to this with the verb ‘turn’ and the preposition ‘on.’ ‘She turned on him’ and ‘she turned him on.’ Same words, the order changes, the meaning changes significantly. Impossible language! I need your help.”

  “Of course I will help you,” Jade responded immediately. “But, you know, pillow talk is the best way to learn another language."

  Zhou looked at her, a blank look on his face. Pillow talk?

  Jade stood up abruptly.

  "Oh, my god. I can't believe I said that. Never mind. Forget I said that. I'm so embarrassed. I'm such an idiot." Her face was very red.

  Zhou had no idea why she was behaving this way.

  "I'm going to fix some lunch." Jade hurried out of the room.

  As soon as she was out of sight, Zhou turned back to the computer and searched for the definition of "pillow talk" in an online slang dictionary. A big grin appeared on his face when he read the definition.

  When Jade returned to the room later with sandwiches, Zhou did not look at her directly. He didn’t want to embarrass her.

  "I think we are finished here now. Let’s go to your garage after we eat. Okay?"

  “Okay!” Jade replied, thankful that Zhou said nothing more about pillow talk.

  Chapter 9

  Letty stopped off for a quick sandwich and a bottle of water at the grocery store in her neighborhood. Then she headed north along Swan Road. The potential client, Mrs. Baird, had given directions to her house that took Letty across the Rillito River and upward into the foothills of the Santa Catalina Mountains. Here is where the primarily affluent white people lived, many of whom kept lovely winter homes in Tucson and then returned to their homes up north during Tucson’s hot summers. Snowbirds, they were called. Letty was no longer within the city limits of Tucson but had entered unincorporated Pima County to an area known as Catalina Foothills.

  Swan Road narrowed as Letty climbed. She began looking at the street signs for those streets that led off Swan on curving lanes to million-dollar homes. Letty had always thought it amusing that the streets in the Foothills so often had elegant-sounding Spanish names like Avenida Cerro del Falcon and Camino del Cazador. Yet in the poorer, Mexican-American part of town far to the south, the streets were named after U.S. states – Iowa Street, Louisiana Street, Montana Street, Nebraska Street.

  Here in the Foothills, most houses had expansive grounds with desert landscaping. That included various mesquite, palo verde and desert willow trees, plus the iconic saguaro and ocotillo. In the south, houses were on smaller lots with fewer large trees. After all, who could afford the water to maintain elaborate landscaping? Many of these yards in the southside homes were graced with old, broken-down cars instead of swimming pools. Yet kitchen gardens that produced real food plus flowers in colorful pots were much more common on the south side. The two Tucsons, Letty thought to herself. One with plenty of money; the other not so much.

  She finally found the street she was looking for, which turned out to be a graveled lane leading to a huge Spanish-style home at least a quarter mile off the Swan Road pavement. The house was done in the adobe Santa Fe style with vigas visible all around. She parked her truck, turned off her cell phone and went up to a heavy, carved oaken door. The door opened before she could ring the bell.

  A short and somewhat plump middle-aged Hispanic woman with elegantly-coifed hair, dressed in an expensive lavender-colored suit, opened the door.

  “Are you the private detective?” she asked curtly.

  “Yes, my name is Letty Valdez.”

  “I’m Consuela Baird. Come in.”

  She turned and led the way. As she followed, Letty got a glimpse of a huge living room with a polished Saltillo tile floor and a floor-to-ceiling window that provided a glimpse of the entire city and the Santa Rita Mountains forty miles to the south. A maid was dusting sculpture that adorned the room.

  Mrs. Baird led Letty into a smaller, book-lined room with a large desk. She gestured to a chair. Letty sat down.

  “You probably know that there was murder in the Sam Hughes neighborhood a few days ago,” the older woman began.

  Letty nodded. In fact, Letty habitually scanned the online version of the local newspaper first thing when she arrived at her office. She had seen a report about a Mrs. Barbara Lyle who had been murdered in her backyard in the historic Sam Hughes neighborhood of Tucson.

  The murdered woman had been shot in the head from a distance, most probably from the side yard near
the street. The very brief news report said that a group of teenagers, mostly Mexican Americans from Tucson High School and led by José Maria Gomez, had been in an altercation with a group of University High School Anglo teen boys earlier in the evening at a fast food restaurant on Speedway Boulevard. The police had to break up what had escalated into a fistfight, but no arrests were made. The teens from University High School included Travis Lyle, son of the dead woman. The report went on to say that police thought that Gomez followed Lyle to his home, attempted to shoot Lyle, and shot Mrs. Lyle by accident. A gun had been found at the site. Gomez was arrested and booked into the Pima County Jail. The investigation was ongoing, the report concluded.

  “My sister’s son, José, has been accused of this crime. He is innocent. I want you to find the real killer and clear José’s name. Will you do this?”

  “Mrs. Baird, I can investigate, but I cannot guarantee that your nephew will be found innocent of the crime. Are you willing to accept that?”

  “Yes, and I will pay you no matter what you discover. I believe in my heart that José is innocent.”

  For a moment, Letty considered turning the job down. After all, she had this problem with Jade to deal with. But that was for a friend and involved no money. Letty had to pay the bills, and make enough to give some to her grandmother, and to her brothers and sister if they needed it, and to save a little from every paying job for emergencies and for Will’s college tuition. It was obvious that Mrs. Baird had money and could afford to pay top dollar for Letty’s services.

  “Okay. I’ll get started on Monday.”

  “Here is my attorney’s card. He will be defending José. You will be working with him and reporting to him. Is that clear?”