I clicked on the app, and the screen went black. An animated, fire-breathing dragon materialized. It put on a brief show before morphing into the game’s logo: Chasing Chinatown. I leaned back in my chair as both sides of my mouth climbed higher. I got you guys.
Chapter 50
It was near midnight when I received a text from Kang that he was standing outside my home. When I opened the front door, I was amused by his down dressing. He had on sweatpants, a hoodie and a baseball cap.
“What?” He asked, his body language defensive. “You said get over here as fast as I could. I was already in bed.”
I motioned for him to hurry inside. “We hit the jackpot,” I said as I skip-hopped past him and up the stairs. “Come on; I’ll show you what I found.”
I moved up the stairs and into my office as quickly as my leg would allow. Slightly out of breath, I pointed to the laptop. “Take a look.”
Kang took a seat at my desk and stared at the screen. On it was a simple outline map of the world with the major cites of various countries represented by glowing red dots. A blue trajectory line connected Toronto and San Francisco.
“Is this some sort of a game?”
“Yes. It’s a game that our killer couple has been playing.”
“Wait, you got me out of bed to look at a game?”
I stood with my weight resting on one leg and my hand on my hip. “It’s more than a game. I’ve been poking around this program for the last hour or so, not to mention I had to crack a password to even get access. Let me explain. It’s kind of like a travel log. It keeps track of their expenses and the miles they’ve logged and the most interesting—”
Kang held up his and interrupted me. “Hold on, Abby. I’m still not seeing the importance.”
“Well, if you would zip it and let me finish, you would.”
“Fine.” He turned back toward the laptop, giving me the floor.
“As I was saying, the most interesting part of this all is that it keeps track of their kills.”
Kang straightened up.
“That got your attention, didn’t it?”
“Keep going.”
“Not only does it manage their kills, but it orders them.”
Kang looked back at me. “You mean this game, or whatever it is, asked for one dead guy minus his heart?”
“Not exactly, but close.” I reached around Kang, took control of the mouse and moved the cursor over the listing of headings titled Attractions. “Each of these Attractions correlates to a kill.” I clicked on Attraction Four, and the other headings and the map faded back. A large animated scroll appeared and unraveled, revealing a phrase.
“Good fortune comes in many forms. Find the right one for your answer,” Kang read out loud.
“Each Attraction has a riddle like that. Below the riddle is a place to type in your answer.”
“And below that is a task,” Kang continued. “Leave someone’s heart in San Francisco. That’s referencing the Tony Bennett song, ‘I Left My Heart in San Francisco.’”
“That’s right, and our last victim had their heart removed and left here.”
Kang removed his cap and ran his hands through his hair as he leaned back in the chair. “Unbelievable.”
“I think answering the riddle correctly reveals the task, because the first three Attractions all have the same thing, except the riddle and the tasks are different.” I quickly took Kang through them.
“Why the puzzle aspect? If they’re killing for someone else, why make it difficult?”
“It’s a fun challenge—a game—so to speak. Most serial killers pride themselves on their analytical thinking, their ability to outsmart law enforcement and even their victims. I’d say this is right up their alley. Consider it an appetizer before the meal.”
Kang leaned back. “Maybe the game aspect is twofold. It masks what is really taking place.”
“That’s a valid point.”
“The only thing we don’t know is what answer they gave for each riddle to reveal their tasks.”
“Well, I crosschecked this fortune phrase with the history of their web searches. While I didn’t see any direct searches for this phrase, there were a lot of searches for Chinese restaurants.”
“Fortune cookie,” Kang blurted. “Chinese restaurants have fortune cookies and this riddle is about fortune.”
“That was my initial thought, too, until I saw the search for fortune cookie manufacturers.”
Kang snapped his finger. “The Fortune Cookie Company. It’s located right in the middle of Chinatown. So that’s the answer.”
“It could be, but my hunch is it was something at that location.”
“So they visit, recite the riddle and receive their answer. They then come back, plug it in and the task is revealed.”
“Perhaps. It fits with the gameplay concept.” I leaned against the wall and crossed one leg over the other.
“So we have a game that challenges the intellect, the skill, and the creativity of a serial killer. Talk about three ways to feed the ego.”
“Yeah.”
Kang rubbed his palms back and forth over his thighs. “You did good, Abby. You’ve certainly unearthed more about this case than I had thought there to be. But do you really think the creator of this app is masterminding the kills? Maybe it’s only a game that someone thought up, and these two lowlifes decided to use it to add a little excitement.”
“Possibly. I can’t say that isn’t the case.”
“But you think someone is behind it.”
“I do, and it’s because of the staging involved with the crimes and the documentation. While a lot of serial killers have a signature, something about their kill that brands them, I don’t believe the staging was a signature for the Carlsons.”
“Too much work?”
“Yeah. The amount of thought put into the staging, not to mention covering their tracks—I still believe the Carlsons relished the kill. The staging aspect feels more like work they might have enjoyed or even a way to prolong the high of the kill for them.”
“Could this simply be them seeking credit for their kills?”
I tossed Kang’s question around in my head for a bit, even though I had initially discounted it. “It’s not credit they’re seeking. This is about proof. Credit would require reaching a large audience. That’s not what they’re after. The staging was small and hidden.”
“Either way, I still can’t shake the fact that we’re talking about a simple app.”
“This isn’t coming from nowhere. This little game played a role in their kills.”
Kang looked up at me, his eyebrows arched into half circles. “We have no hard evidence that someone is issuing a command to kill through it. There are no direct orders.”
“It’s a great way to hide the fact that an order was given. It’s like the way the mob communicates over the phone; all of their conversations are indirect. Whoever is behind this is equally organized and set this up to avoid implicating themselves should something go wrong.”
Kang’s eyelids were heavy and his brow had relaxed. It was a lot to take in. I knew that, which is why it didn’t bother me that he still questioned me. He wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t.
For a few moments, neither of us said anything. My gut agreed with everything I had told Kang. Whether he agreed as well was yet to be seen. He had his head down as he stared at the area rug on the floor. His arms were folded across his chest with his hands tucked between his torso and his biceps.
I recrossed my legs. It must have wakened him from his self-imposed coma because he looked up at me then. Maybe he sensed me staring at him. There wasn’t an obvious sign to confirm my suspicions.
From the beginning, our relationship had been professional. Kang never crossed the line with me. I had said a lot of things that probably did but still, he always treated me with respect and as an equal. Could he loosen up a bit more? Sure, but I didn’t mind things the way they were.
&nbs
p; As I shook off my thoughts, I saw that Kang was still staring. I didn’t feel as though he were gawking, nor did I feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was his gentle eyes. Twice, I almost opened my mouth to break the silence but resisted. We were having a moment. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I also wasn’t so quick to stop it. Slowly, I watched a smile form on his face. It started on one side and grew to encompass his entire mouth. I couldn’t help but grin back; his was too contagious to ignore.
Eventually, the silence got the best of me, and I laughed. “You’re staring at me.”
“I’m thinking about the case.”
“No, you’re not.”
“All right, I’m not.”
“What then?” My left eyebrow rose, as I tilted my head to the side playfully.
“I’m realizing how good you are.”
“As a person?”
“Yes, that, but I really meant as a cop.”
“Even though I’m an FBI agent, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You know what I mean.”
I looked at my watch; it was nearly two in the morning, and that triggered a yawn, which then turned into stretching my arms high above my head. I peeked at Kang as I reached for the ceiling. My shirt must have ridden up higher than it felt like. Before Kang arrived, I had changed into a T-shirt and a pair of sweat shorts—my normal comfort wear around the house. In my mind, it was the furthest thing from sexy.
Kang thought otherwise.
His eyes were intensely staring at my exposed midsection, and before I could stop myself, my mouth cranked into gear. “Are you checking me out?”
He quickly looked off to the side before settling his eyes back on me. “What?” he managed to say with only a slight crack in his voice.
“You were staring—wait—leering at me.”
“I was not. It might have looked like I was, but I was thinking about the case, lost in my thoughts.” He waved a dismissive hand at me and looked away. “You’ve got a big ego.”
So I had busted his balls a bit for taking a peek. I was glad he had done it. It made him seem normal—goofy. And cute.
<><><>
Twice in one night, I found myself calling Kang while he was asleep.
“Abby?”
“Sorry. I know it’s late, but I know what we need to do.”
“It’s four in the morning. Don’t you sleep?”
I had been sleeping, but a trip to the toilet had ignited the cogs in my head and they started spinning. As I had laid in bed with pieces of the case flowing in and out of my conscious, clarity on our next move appeared.
“Are you listening to me? I said I know what we need to do.”
“Is this about the case? Give it up. There’s no hard evidence that someone was talking to the Carlsons through this game. We would be chasing a ghost.”
“There’s still one riddle left that hasn’t been solved.”
“So we guess the answer correctly, and the task is revealed. Where does that take us?”
“I’m not sure. But there’s only one way to find out.”
“And what’s that?”
“Play the game the way the Carlsons would have played it. For real.”
Chapter 51
Kang agreed to hear me out the following morning. I had known from the start I would be walking into a minefield of negativity, but I needed to get Kang on board. Add that I had ruined any chance he’d had at a good night’s sleep and, well…
I sat at a sidewalk table in front of the La Boulange Bakery on Columbus Avenue. It was beautiful out, no fog but still jacket weather. I already had my tea steeping in a large mug when I spotted his tall frame poking up amongst the sidewalk traffic. I waved until he spotted me. The big grin on his face eased the tension in my chest. Maybe I had expected a fight where there wasn’t one.
“Thanks for meeting me.” I slid his usual, a medium black coffee, across the table as he took a seat.
“It’s not a problem.” He grabbed the cup and brought it up to his lips but kept his eyes on me while he swallowed. He then moved the cup far enough from his lips to speak. “And thanks for the coffee.” He then took another sip before setting it down and rubbing his hands together quickly. “Brisk, isn’t it?”
“A little. Look—”
Kang held up a hand. “Abby, I’m in.”
My eyes widened.
“You can close your mouth. This is a good thing.”
It took a moment for me to gather my thoughts and form a response. “Great.” That’s all I could manage.
Kang leaned back and rested his foot across his thigh. I knew then we were good and back on track. “I’m curious.” I hesitated for a second, though I don’t think he noticed. “What made you change your mind? You seemed so… I dunno, negative, last night.”
He dropped his foot to the sidewalk and shook his pant leg straight. “To be honest, I trust your judgment. I don’t think I would have closed this case if I hadn’t been working with you.”
“Puh-lease.” I reached over and gave him a playful shove. “We both worked this case.”
“Thanks. I appreciate you including me, but I know a smart cookie when I see one.”
My wide grin allowed me to easily sip my tea, which I stretched out longer than usual. I didn’t have an answer, and I could feel the heat in my cheeks increasing.
“About this game,” Kang said. “How do you see it unfolding?”
“When the Carlsons killed that musician, they unlocked Attraction Five, probably by delivering pictures or video of the end result. I know the riddle wasn’t solved, because the task has yet to be revealed. I propose we become Jerry and Vicki Carlson and play the game the way it’s intended.”
“Last night, you talked about a person behind this game. How do we know he doesn’t know what the couple looks like?”
“We don’t, but if we can nab this answer to the riddle without alerting the hounds, we’re good. I figure worst case scenario, the guy cuts off all contact and goes underground, and we’d be back to where we currently are.”
“And if we succeed?”
“We keep playing and see where it takes us.”
I watched Kang press his lips tightly together before swishing them from side to side. “We could be walking into an ambush.”
“We’ll take precautions.”
“When do we start?”
I opened my shoulder bag. “Now. I’ve loaded the game onto my laptop.”
I booted up the program. The map of the world and the Attraction headings appeared. I clicked on Attraction Five, and we watched the animated scroll unravel to reveal the riddle.
Hundreds of dragons churn the waters. Find them and find your clue.
“That’s the riddle?” he asked.
“Yeah. I have no idea where to start.”
Kang said it out loud a few times. I didn’t even have a suggestion to make. I was completely stumped by what it could mean.
Kang shifted his eyes upward, to me. “This is a lot harder than I expected it to be.”
I took a deep breath. “Let’s take a step back. We know the way the kills are made tie into the city, so the riddle probably does as well. What’s the link between dragons and San Francisco?”
“Chinatown.” Kang sat up. The light had gone on in his head. “They’re all over the place.”
“There are dancing dragons during Chinese New Year,” I added.
“It’s May, though, but…” Kang raised his index finger. His mouth hung slightly open. “That’s not the only festival that has dragons associated with it.” He held that pose for a beat longer, his mind continuing to churn and keeping me guessing. “That’s it!” He slapped his thigh repeatedly.
“What? Tell me.”
“Today is the first day of the fifth month of the Lunisolar Chinese calendar.”
“Huh?”
“This is the month of the Duanwu Festival—the Dragon Boat Festival, where dragon-themed boats race against others.”
“
Hundreds of dragons churn the waters,” I said.
“That’s exactly what the race looks like.”
I punched Kang in the arm. “Your nerdy knowledge of all things Chinese is paying off.”
“My what?”
“Nothing. The festival? Where? When?”
Kang whipped out his phone. “I don’t know why it didn’t come to me sooner. I’ve been to it many times. It takes place on Treasure Island, and there are literally hundreds of these boats gliding across the bay that day. It’s a real sight to see. There must be a website.” He tapped at his phone a few times and waited. “Got it. The race is this upcoming Saturday.”
“Looks like the Carlsons have plans.”
Chapter 52
After our revelation at the bakery, Kang confided in me regarding his growing concerns with Cavanaugh. As far as the politicking captain knew, the case was solved and filed away. “If he finds out we’re digging further into it, he could order me to stop. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if he slapped me with an insubordination charge. I’m not his favorite detective, you know.”
I had an easy solution. I pulled rank and officially made the entire case an FBI investigation requiring SFPD’s help, specifically Kang’s. Reilly was on board. He saw the potential in this case, not to mention that it was already cross-border.
Toronto’s RCMPs got back to us with a few unsolved murders that had a staging aspect to them. We were confident that the Carlsons were connected. That alone was enough to make it a federal investigation. Plus, Reilly knew it could be a big coup for the department. Cavanaugh wasn’t the only one who looked to collect an “atta-boy” wherever he could. And because our case had been elevated, we had access to the resources needed to help us.
Even though we assumed the real Carlsons had never met the mastermind behind the game, he might have seen a picture of their faces. The department arranged for a professional makeup person to come in and help us match the facial features of our couple and the disguises they used.
Kang looked more Asian than I did, but the artist had a way to help alleviate that through rubber prosthetics around his eyes. They also attached a bulbous nose on his face to match Jerry Carlson’s and replicated the mustache found at the cottage. We both were outfitted with wigs. I wore contacts to change my green eyes to brown and got a new beauty mark on my cheek, which I quite liked. The entire disguise was fairly turnkey so we could apply it ourselves in the future.
Russian Hill (Abby Kane FBI Thriller - Chasing Chinatown Trilogy Book 1) Page 17
