“You see, young Sonny is just fine.”
Jimmy noticed a series of numbers on the edge of the screen. They indicated the date, time. It was the first clue he had to what day this was. It was Friday, 12:13. Which meant he’d been out of it for more than twelve hours. He blinked, assessed the state of his headache. It was waning. He would feel the effects for days, probably, but for the moment he was physically fine. So was Sonny.
But what about his parents?
“Where’s Carmen?”
“Ah, the elusive mother. She evaded us, but only for a time. Mr. Inshan assisted us.”
“What have you done with the family?”
“Just watch. Now that you are awake, we can bring a resolution to this entire matter,” said Mr. Wu-Tin. His tone was genial, but Jimmy knew not to be fooled. One misstep and whatever he had planned could be altered. Badly, perhaps with tragic results. Jimmy shifted in his seat, wishing he wasn’t still tied up. He felt constricted, as helpless as he’d ever been. His life as an investigator hadn’t taken him into the depths of organized crime before. Cheating spouses, a domestic incident. A simple case of murder, if that even existed. But this. Was he in over his head? Considering he was tied to a chair, in the hands of a thug who had nothing but disdain for the law, he had to think yes. He waited to see how this played out. He had little choice.
Mr. Wu-Tin looked over a Kenji. “Tell them to let them in.”
Jimmy watched as Kenji spoke into a phone, said something in a language which he had to assume was Chinese. Then his view switched back to the screen, where he saw a door open, two figures walking in. One was Carmen, an expression of relief on her pretty face. Behind he was her husband, Ranuel. Both of them went running over to Sonny, who embraced them both. Jimmy felt a wash of happiness hit him. Seeing a family reunited. Seeing the joy spread on their faces. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted for them? But at what cost to him? He was still in the clutches of the man who had threatened to keep this family apart, perhaps for eternity.
“I’m guessing you have a point in showing me this?”
“Mr. McSwain, I’m going to make a deal with you,” Mr. Wu-Tin. “But before I do that, I want you to know that Mr. Inshan has agreed to return to my employ as my driver. He has come to an understanding of that old adage of keeping one’s enemies closer. What he knows about me, well, things wouldn’t end well for him—or his family—if he were to ever speak of them. So the entire episode of Mr. Inshan’s transgression is forgiven, but of course not forgotten. As long as he stays in check, his family will be fine. I am a father, a grandfather, and soon a great-grandfather. I know the importance of family.” He paused before saying, “Do you?”
“More than you know.”
“I will share one more thing with you, Mr. McSwain.”
“What’s that?”
Mr. Wu-Tin snapped his fingers and Kenji walked over to him, handing him a small item. One he held up. Jimmy recognized it immediately. The flash drive he’d taken from Ranuel. Rather than leave it in his office—which had been trashed in the search for it—he’d never let it off his body. Until last night, obviously. After Fong had knocked him unconscious, they’d clearly found it. There went his bargaining chip.
“Just as I am willing to let the Ramirezes live in peace, I will do the same for you.”
“That’s generous of you.”
“You had no business getting involved in mine. Walk away, Mr. McSwain, and as long as you remain far away from me, no harm will come to you.”
“And if I don’t?”
Mr. Wu-Tin edged closer to Jimmy. The threat in his eyes evident. “You will live to regret it. Or perhaps not live. I understand you, too, have family.”
Simple words, said with chilling effect. Jimmy knew he had no choice, especially now.
“Understood,” he said. Anything to get himself out of this situation. Still, another part of him wondered why he was being let off with only a warming? Curiosity won out over common sense. “Why not get rid of me? Isn’t that what you do? Remove complications?”
“If you insist,” Mr. Wun-Tin said. “It is my understanding that you have deep connections within the NYPD. Last thing I need is them coming after me for foolish reasons. This should be easy. You stay silent and I let you live. Seems like a fair trade, don’t you think so, Mr. McSwain?”
He nodded.
“Wonderful we could come to an agreement. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”
Jimmy’s stomach grumbled, not from the punches he’d received but from hunger. “Food. I enjoyed my previous meal here. I mean, I’m guessing I’m somewhere inside your restaurant?”
Mr. Wu-Tin laughed, the sound echoing inside the enclosed office. “We specialize in repeat customers. Kenji, please get Mr. McSwain a feast from Imperial Dragon kitchen. But make it take-out.”
“Do I get an egg roll?”
Mr. Tun-Tin nodded. It wasn’t a confirmation of his order. Instead, Fong punched him one last time, for good measure.
Chapter Fourteen
Jimmy stared back at himself in the mirror and understood why people had been avoiding him on the subway. He’d felt the pain in his stomach the entire ride back to his office, but what he hadn’t realized were the purplish bruises on his face. Had Fong had his way with Jimmy when he attacked him? Obviously he’d done more than deliver a blow to the head that had rendered him unconscious. He had a cut above the eye, a swollen cheek, a split lip. He applied soothing lotion to the wounds, swallowed a couple aspirin. It had been awhile since he’d taken a beating like this.
Such was the life of a private investigator. Too bad he couldn’t claim the other guy looked worse.
He should have taken a cab.
But he was home, or at least in the one place he sought peace, solitude. He could hear a bit of noise coming from Paddy’s Pub below him and he considered going down for a pick-me-up. In a little while, he decided. It had been a busy few days and he needed a moment to catch his breath. From the revelation about Ralphie, to the trip to White Pine, his conversation with his mother, the unexpected detour to Mr. Wu-Tin’s den, Jimmy wasn’t sure if he was, as the phrase went, coming or going. It was Friday night, that much he knew. Eight o’clock by the time he’d gotten home, nine when he’d stepped out of the shower and begun to repair the bruises he’d suffered.
He’d also called home. Maggie was at the Calloway for her late shift. Mallory was still at the apartment, taking care of Meaghan, who was still very much pregnant, still very difficult to deal with. In other words, she was herself. Jimmy told his sister he would be spending the night at his office, then he rang off. At least Meaghan hadn’t gone into labor during Jimmy’s unexplained absence. Even if they had called him, he wouldn’t have been able to answer. Kind of a side effect of being, literally, tied up.
He emerged out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He gazed about the office, the room still messy from the tossing it received at the hands of Fong and his scar-faced associate. They might have been looking for the flash drive, but based on the destruction they’d delivered they’d enjoyed the job. Wreaked havoc. Jimmy dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray V-neck, long-sleeved shirt. He almost began to feel like himself.
The sofa was put back together, even though he’d probably need a new one.
He would absolutely need a new laptop. Thankfully his iPhone was undamaged.
Life felt stalled, somewhere between what he wanted and what he needed.
One thing he definitely needed was to organize his case files, which right now sat in a pile of paper in the corner of the room. It would take time to sort through the various pieces of paper. Doing so now was not on the agenda. He would need a quiet day, when his body didn’t ache and he didn’t feel like his mind was swimming in a foggy sea. Most everyone would tell him to see a doctor. He would. But not till this was all over.
At least one case was over. The Ramirez situation. He realized he could spend the night writing up his notes, putt
ing the final touches on the details. Not that it had ever been an official investigation; he’d turned Carmen and her family over to Help is Here. He reminded himself to call Melissa Harris-J’Arnoud to see if she ever heard from them. He had donated his time, payment not due. Still, he wanted a record of it. It was Case File #704. Family Trust, he decided to call it.
He spent the next hour sitting on the sofa, writing down notes and organizing his thoughts. When done, he slipped the pieces of paper into a manila folder, labeled it. He marked it Solved. Usually when he did so, he felt a certain satisfaction. Not so with this one. He knew the Ramirezes were still troubled, Ranuel Inshan basically under house arrest with Mr. Wu-Tin. But to jeopardize their agreement, to compromise his own with Mr. Wu-Tin would only lead to further trouble. Jimmy knew to take a back seat, for now.
Solved, in this case, was a relative term.
But he couldn’t worry about it. Too much of another case consumed him. Ate at him.
He got up from the sofa, stood in the middle of the room, and considered just what to do on this Friday night. He heard a raucous sound come from downstairs, and he decided his uncle’s pub would serve as the ideal distraction. He left his office, headed down the stairs, and briefly endured the cold outdoors before opening the door. His uncle was behind the bar, laughing along with some joke one of his regular patrons had just told. Paddy’s face was red, happy, and it was good to see given the loss he’d suffered last December with the murder of his son, Kellan. At the hands of Mickey Dean, no less. It was an event that had bonded them further. A son who had lost a father, a father who had lost a son.
“Hiya, Paddy.”
“Whoa, what the hell happened to you?”
“Oh, right. Yeah, a case went wrong.”
“The other guy?”
“Doesn’t look like this, not even close.”
“You need something hearty. Let me get you a Guinness.”
Jimmy smiled as his uncle went about the serious pour of the dark stout. It took a moment before the pint was placed before him, and he took a grateful sip of the bitter liquid. It wasn’t his usual, but as his uncle had said, it was hearty. The beer version of sticking to your ribs.
“Hear Meaghan’s laid up till the baby comes.”
“Yeah. Hopefully any day.”
“Mallory okay? She never did tell me what she was celebrating.”
“She’ll reveal in good time. It’s good news.”
“Maggie?”
“At work.”
Paddy nodded. “Kind of a curt answer there. Jim. Everything okay?”
“Just got some thinking to do. She and I had a tough conversation last night.”
“I’m sure it’ll all work out. No bond stronger than that of a mother and son.”
“Except when it’s a father and son,” Jimmy said. “Speaking of, Paddy, you got that item I left you the other night?”
“Course. You need it. What’d you call it, insurance?”
“Best you not know.”
“Related to those bruises on your face?”
Jimmy laughed, winced. “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Hmm. They beat you good, huh?”
“Let’s just say I’ll need more than just one of these,” Jimmy said, taking a sip from his Guinness. It was bitter on his tongue.
“Just signal when you’re ready.”
Paddy went to tend to other customers, who on this weekend night were plentiful. It was good to see his uncle busy, in his element. Jimmy thought about the ache he must still feel though, probably always would. Even though he had closure, knowing who was responsible for his son’s murder and that he couldn’t harm anyone again. Not so, for Jimmy, thinking about Joey.
February was coming to a fast close, as the short month tended to, which meant March would rear its head, the anniversary of Joseph McSwain’s death fast approaching. March 18th, the day after St. Patrick’s Day. He recalled the parade that year and how he had smiled watching his father march in his dress blues amidst his brothers. What would this year’s celebration be like? He hoped a solution would be at hand, he hoped a baby would be born to the family, he hoped a new future would be mapped out for all the McSwains. Himself included.
Just then the door to Paddy’s opened. For some reason, Jimmy turned, his interest sparked. He was beyond surprised to see that the newest patron to the pub was Carmen Ramirez. Walking with a sense of hesitation, looking around the small space, it wasn’t that she didn’t see Jimmy, he thought. She was being cautious.
He set his glass down. Welcomed her over. The chair beside him was empty. She stood.
“Hello, Jimmy.”
“I’m surprised to see you. How are you, Carmen?”
“I’m fine…I’ve just come, well, to thank you. And apologize.”
“Are you safe? Sonny? Ranuel?”
“They are outside, in a private car. Waiting for me. I couldn’t leave without seeing you.”
“Leaving? Where?”
“It’s best you don’t know. That woman you told me about, Melissa…”
“Harris-J’Arnoud. Help is Here. You contacted her?”
“As soon as Sonny was released to me at that school. She and her team are placing us into protective custody. I insisted first that we stop by your apartment, to close the books, as they say. Your sister Mallory suggested I might find you here. You look like someone hurt you. Was it part of my problem?”
Jimmy shook his head. “No. Something else. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.” Carmen reached out a hand, touched his with gentleness. “All you offered was to move some boxes.”
“I sensed more was going on. I wasn’t wrong. Was Sonny mistreated in any way?”
She shook her head. “He seems to have adapted. He was always in the company of other children. He said he was fed, he slept in a bed. Hopefully he’s young enough for the memory to eventually fade.” She paused, looked at the watch on her arm. “I shouldn’t linger. Jimmy, you have no idea how much you’ve helped us. While the situation is not ideal, on the run from Mr. Wu-Tin, at least we are all together, finally. We will become citizens, all of us. We will live a happy life. Because of you.”
“That’s what I like to do. Too many families come to me, broken. I’m happy to repair.”
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. He grimaced from the pain it induced.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Jimmy shook it off. “I’ll be fine. Can I walk you out? Say hi to Sonny?”
“It’s probably best if you don’t. Might confuse him. We don’t know who is watching us. Also, who might be watching you. I took a risk coming here. Putting Sonny in further danger, it’s not smart. Be well, Jimmy. We will be, thanks to you.”
With that, she turned and slipped out of the bar just as suddenly as she’d appeared.
Jimmy’s body felt newly numb, glad for the pain to have temporarily dissipated. He stared forward at his empty pint glass. For how long he sat frozen, he couldn’t say. It was only when his uncle touched his arm that Jimmy stirred. He’d been lost in thought and couldn’t even remember what he’d been thinking about. Like time had stopped. He finally gazed up at his uncle’s friendly face.
“You okay there, Jim?”
“Guess I was wondering what would have happened if someone had protected my family. If we might have been happy.”
“Ah, you’re in that kind of mood.” He turned toward the door. “Pretty lady. A case you’re working?”
“It’s over,” he said.
“Happy ending?”
“Happy endings are temporary, Paddy. The future makes sure of that.”
A fresh Guinness appeared before him, the foamy head perfect. “Not that I have to say it, but this one’s on the house. And I believe you asked for this a few minutes ago.”
Paddy slid a white envelope over toward Jimmy. He toyed with it, considering whether he should look at it or just stuff it into his pocket. He opted to open it,
took out its contents. Twinkling in the light above the bar was a computer flash drive. In fact, a copy of the one he’d been forced to surrender to Mr. Wu-Tin. No, the case wasn’t over. In fact, for the Asian mob boss, his trouble was just beginning. Slipping it into his jeans pocket, he then grabbed for his beer. He raised it up to justice, took a sip, and vowed this beer would be his last of the night.
Tomorrow, the world shifted. And it began with putting his trust in the last place he’d ever thought he’d find it: the NYPD.
§ § § §
He lied to himself, that second beer wasn’t his last of the night. He stayed for two more, and if he was feeling numb earlier, he was now admittedly tipsy. Usually he could handle his booze. But he was dehydrated, lacking food. He hadn’t eaten the take-out. He didn’t trust Mr. Wu-Tin, and he didn’t trust his stomach either. He wasn’t sure he was sufficiently recovered.
Jimmy headed out of Paddy’s Pub, thinking he should just go upstairs and sleep it off, and instead he hailed an available cab on Ninth Avenue.
“Where to, buddy?”
“Eighteenth and Eighth.”
The cab drove off into a night of glittering lights. Buildings were still lit, lampposts, too, headlights of cars keeping the city illuminated even when the sky didn’t. Jimmy took out his phone, considered calling ahead. His judgment impaired, he decided surprise would be more fun. Didn’t take long to get there. He paid his fare with a nice tip, slipped out and approached the front entrance to where Frank Frisano, Captain of the 10th Precinct, had set up a sublet. It was Friday night, about ten o’clock. He could be home, or he could still be hard at work in his office. Criminals liked the weekends. Kept the cops busy.
That thought didn’t stop Jimmy from buzzing the apartment. He waited, unsure how long.
He buzzed again.
A crackle. Then, “What?”
“Hey, it’s me. Jimmy.” He wondered if the slur in his voice was detectable.
“Jimmy? What the…”
But the door buzzed, and he pressed on it, gaining admittance to the building.
A quick elevator ride up, Jimmy approached the door to his lover’s apartment, only to find it was already opened, Frank’s body filling the space. A knowing smile hit him. The sexy man was in jeans and a button-down shirt. Casual, but too much for what Jimmy wanted. “Shit, now you’re a sight for sore eyes.”
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