Bill Harvey Collection

by Peter O'Mahoney

  It was Kevin’s only daughter who went missing next, only weeks later.

  All fingers pointed at Monty, but again, there was no evidence. It was a clean kidnapping, and nobody was talking.

  Kevin Wu was not a man to take the disappearance of his daughter lightly, and soon after, a third child, Monty’s eldest, went missing. This time, there was no doubt who was guilty, but evidence is another thing altogether.

  Three children bore the consequences of a terrible accident.

  And two families were never going to be the same.

  Like all good fathers would, Monty spent a long time looking for his missing daughter, and many hours trying to prove that it was powerful Kevin Wu that kidnapped her. And they got so close, but the DA wasn’t convinced that they had enough evidence to convict him. Without a body, there was never going to be a murder charge.

  It was only once they were really close to an arrest that a targeted shooting occurred at Monty’s house, and it almost took the lives of his wife and daughter. It was at this point that Monty decided to cut his losses and run.

  To save their remaining daughter from the terrors of the criminal underworld, the Lee family disappeared into the hills. Along with his mother, they found a settlement of people living a simple life, cut-off from society. The Lee’s erased all trace of their existence; destroyed everything and left no trail behind them. Completely off the grid.

  Their only contact with their former life was reporter Harry Beach, and he was to contact them with any update on their daughter’s case.

  But Harry Beach was a wheeler and dealer, and he would use any information he had to secure a story.

  As Harvey drove up the long-wooded driveway, his car was hit by numerous overhanging branches and bounced over large potholes in the rarely used dirt road. Finally, he came to a clearing and brought the car to a slow halt. A few paces away, a man swung an axe out the front of a small house and didn’t even look up at the shiny black Mercedes, which was clearly out of place.

  Carefully stepping out of the car, Harvey studied his surrounds—a small clearing, one brick house, five old caravans, and evidence of vegetable cultivating behind the six-foot fence surrounding the house, keeping the animals out at night.

  Half an hour from the closest town, their existence was deliberately cut-off from the world. No electricity, no town water, no modern luxuries.

  “Hello. I’m after a man named Monty Lee.” Harvey stated as he stepped out of the car into the fresh mountain air.

  The powerful axe swung down, breaking the wood in half, but no answer came from the man’s mouth.

  Harvey stepped closer.

  “I’d stop there if I were you.” The man grunted as he swung the axe again, not taking his eyes off the job.

  Harvey didn’t stop; he didn’t respond well to threats.

  As he stepped forward, the man stopped swinging the axe and stared at Harvey. It had been a while since he saw a stranger come through this area.

  The man resembled the photo of the Chinese-born Monty Lee that Harvey found, but he no longer had the body of an accountant. His forearms were thick, shoulders wide, cuts covering his overworked hands. His flannel shirt was a mixture of blood, sweat, and more sweat. Hardworking and weathered, he looked like he hadn’t smiled in years.

  He wiped his brow with the back of his forearm and then nodded towards the small house, where a woman stood at the door with a shotgun in hand, an older lady behind her.

  “That’s my wife, Tessa Lee, and my mother, Ling Lee. They really don’t like strangers. So, I suggest that you stop walking this way and start talking.”

  “My name is Bill Harvey.” Harvey stopped walking forward, looking at Monty Lee but keeping the women in his peripheral vision.

  “You a cop?”

  “No. I’m a lawyer.”

  Monty laughed. “Don’t need a lawyer up here, pal!” He opened his hand to indicate to the forest around them. “Whatever you want to sell me, we don’t want it. We’re not buying.”

  “I’m not here to sell anything.” Harvey took another step closer. “I’m here to talk about your past.”

  Monty stared at him, looked across to his wife, nodded, and then the women disappeared back into the house. Harvey’s shoulders relaxed as the timeworn door swung shut behind her.

  The caravans that surrounded the house were all from the early 60s and looked like they had been used every day since. There was repair work on all five, a missing window on one, and a missing door on another. It was at this point that Harvey saw a beat-up pickup truck parked at another entrance to the clearing, and he heard another truck roar in the distance.

  “You came up the wrong road.” Monty nodded towards the Mercedes. “I’m surprised your car made it up that road. Usually, most sedans bottom out up there—I’ve had to tow a few cars out.”

  “I didn’t realize there was more than one-way in.”

  “Most people don’t realize there are roads up here. It’s private property, and that’s the way we like it—private.” Monty leaned the axe against a nearby tree stump. “But I was expecting someone to be coming by. I guess you’ve spoken with Harry.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And do you have an update on the case?”

  “No.”

  “What are you doing here then?”

  “I need your help.”

  “I’m not the helpful sort, pal.”

  Monty never trusted Harry Beach, but it was the only way he could remain updated on his daughter’s case. He called him every month when he ventured into the closest town, hopeful that there would be something to add, something that drew them closer to closing the cold case. He even let himself hope that Tiffany would be found alive one day.

  When Harry relayed information that Kevin was close to being arrested for Tiffany’s murder, his heart sunk. Not because the case was coming to a close, but because it meant that little flame of hope that his daughter was alive was blown out completely. It still broke his heart every day that he thought about Tiffany, still made him shed a tear when he was alone in the pine forest.

  He couldn’t tell his mother, Tiffany’s grandmother, the news yet. Out of everyone, she was the most convinced that Tiffany was still alive. The news that she wasn’t would completely destroy her.

  “How many of you are up here?” Harvey asked.

  “Enough.”

  “A medium sized house, five caravans, a basement. That’s enough to fit a small community.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “It’s must be a quiet life out here. I would hate for that to be spoiled.” Harvey made a thinly veiled reference to his ability to find him.

  Monty stared at Harvey, processing the information, and once he had, his right hand gripped the axe again. Lifting it up so that it sat on his shoulders, Monty clenched his jaw. “It’s quiet enough to make sure that if someone disappears, they’re never found again.”

  Harvey nodded, an acknowledgment of the threat. “I’ll get to the point. I’m having trouble with Kevin Wu.”

  The grip on the axe tightens. “We don’t speak that name around here.”

  For a former accountant, he seemed quite scary. “I need your help. You were his inside man, and you know information that could help me put him away. Help me put him behind bars.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “I’m looking for someone to testify that he’s setting me up. He planned my downfall five years ago, when you were still close to him. He meticulously and cunningly planned for me to take the blame for a crime that he committed. I need you to testify that he set me up.” Harvey deliberately didn’t mention which crime. “Someone mentioned you might be able to do that.”

  “No.”

  He studied the unflinching man with a sharp axe. “They also mentioned that you would know where his old notes are, a specific black book. If you’re not willing to testify, then at least tell me where the notes are. That’s all I need. The black book—the
one with the names of his prostitution clients. I know that it wasn’t burned, so I just need to see it. It will show the court how bad his prostitution racket was. I can send him away with that alone. I’m sure you want to see that.”

  “I can’t help you,” Monty repeated, his grip still firm on the axe.

  “Maybe you’ve got them stored in that basement under the house?” Harvey nodded towards the basement door near the side of the house.

  The reply was strong. “There’s nothing in there. Whoever told you that I could help is wrong. Very wrong. I’m not risking my family again. There’s evil in the city, and I refuse to risk my family again. Leave us alone.”

  “Terrance Marshall assured me that you would help.”

  “Terrance Marshall?” Monty’s jaw clenched tighter.

  The knuckles gripping the axe turned white. It was not a name he enjoyed hearing either.

  “Does he know I’m here? Did you tell him our location?”

  “No.”

  “What else did Terrance say? What did he say about me?”

  Harvey squinted. “What do you think he said?”

  “I’m innocent. I had nothing to do with it. It was all Terrance’s decision, and I didn’t do anything. I had nothing to do with it. I’m innocent, and if you think that I’m going to go down for that oaf, then you’re going to meet the end of this axe.”

  Thoughts ran through Harvey’s head. “Innocent of what?”

  Monty stared at Harvey, trying to read his expression. “Nothing. I didn’t do anything. Don’t try and trap me into saying something I didn’t do. I’m innocent.”

  “All Terrance told me was that you could help me with the notes.”

  “No.” Monty grunted. “Don’t trust Terrance Marshall. Not one bit. He’s a killer and has been his whole life. Tell him that if he ever comes this way, then he will find himself at the bottom of a very deep grave. Alive. I’ll bury that man alive.”

  “You’re not friends with Terrance?” Harvey pushed him.

  “We’re not friends. That man is a criminal, and he’s done things that nobody should ever witness. I had nothing to do with whatever he claims. If I ever see him again, I’ll kill him. I can guarantee you that.” Monty shook his head. “He came here once—said he was looking for me. I was impressed that he actually found us—I didn’t give that guy enough credit. Apparently, it’s harder to disappear than I first thought. One of the other residents told him that they’d never heard of me, and that was that. He never returned, but I can guarantee you that he’s still looking for me.”

  The anger was starting to build in Monty’s body. His veins were pulsing in his ripped arms, his jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes were narrowed on Harvey’s movements.

  “I can see that you won’t be able to help me with the notes, Monty. I’ve come to see the wrong man for help.”

  “Wait.”

  “Yes?”

  “If…” For the first time since meeting, Monty’s expression softened. “If they find Tiffany’s body, please tell us straight away. If she’s dead, then I want to have the honor of burying my daughter. I want to give her the farewell that she deserves. That’s all I want - a chance to bury my daughter. Please.”

  “You have my word.”

  Harvey stepped back towards his car, keeping his eyes on the house, wildly suspicious about the secluded settlement in the woods.

  Chapter 23

  “I’m missing something, Kate.”

  Bill Harvey sat in his office boardroom, looking over all the files spread out in front of them, studying them closely.

  With the evening sun sneaking through the large windows, the boardroom felt more like a new office showroom than a place to discuss legal strategies. Redesigned only a year ago, the boardroom was spacious with clean lines, light colors, and new furniture.

  “Let’s do a timeline,” Kate stated as she sat across from her boss. She tied her hair back into a ponytail, a sure sign that she was becoming focused. She moved a file from one end of the table to the other. “Six years ago, you defend a man named Kevin Wu and get him off criminal charges. Despite the evidence, the court declares him innocent of pimping and pandering. You wrote in your notes at the conclusion of the trial that he’s the most cunning, untrustworthy person you’ve ever met, and you won’t be defending him again.”

  “That’s right. I didn’t know the extent of his activity then, but it turns out that he’s consistently trafficked people from Hong Kong to L.A. to use in his illegal brothel operations. If I had known that then, I wouldn’t have taken on the case.”

  “So it all kicks off with Monty’s daughter dying of an accidental drug overdose at Kevin’s house. Kevin is cleared of any wrongdoing, but then four weeks later, his daughter, Amy Wu, goes missing. People think it’s Monty out for revenge, an eye for an eye, but there’s no evidence, and Monty isn’t charged. Two weeks after the disappearance of Amy Wu, Kevin’s wife, Eva, comes to you saying that Kevin feels he needs to get out of the criminal game, and your former job as a hypnotherapist will help him lose the need to conduct a crime.”

  “She seemed genuine. She wanted him out of the brothels, out of the drugs, and out of that world. She thought this was the best way to do that. And if it helped him get out of the game, then I was going to do what I could. After the disappearance of her step-daughter, Eva said that she had seen enough violence in her life, and she wanted to start again. They wanted a clean slate, and I wanted to help them achieve that.”

  “I’m sure they did seem genuine.” Kate moved another file around the table. “Kevin does five sessions of hypnotherapy over a period of one week with you, then claims he’s cured and clean. In your notes, you write that he seemed very reluctant about the sessions, and you’re sure he isn’t there for the right reasons. And at the end of the five sessions, he says that ‘a girl’ is going to get hurt.”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Only two days after the fifth session, Monty’s second daughter, seven-year-old Tiffany, goes missing. Her body was never found. Kevin is accused, but again there’s not enough evidence. And of course, no charges are laid.”

  “Possibly three dead girls. This isn’t a nice story.”

  “Monty physically attacks Kevin, beats him up so bad that it puts him in hospital, and then Monty’s house is shot at—his wife and last remaining daughter almost killed. Desperate to protect what is left of his family, Monty disappears without a trace—goes to the mountains with his wife, mother, and child, to live a gypsy lifestyle and his only contact with the outside world is reporter Harry Beach.” She moved another file around the table. “Five years later, the police go after Kevin Wu really hard and shut down all his operations. Again, no charges stick, but suddenly, the LAPD is watching Kevin Wu’s every step. So Kevin doesn’t have an income, and he still has large debts to pay. He then comes at you with claims that your hypnotherapy sessions changed his life, and he was under the influence of your sessions while making bad personal and business decisions. He wants to be compensated for that to the tune of $100,000,000.”

  “That’s it, Kate. That’s all of it.”

  “And you’re saying that Kevin had this planned all along. From the day that he came into your office for the hypnotherapy sessions, he planned to kill Monty’s second daughter as revenge for the disappearance of his only child, and you were his cover, his fallback plan.”

  “Almost. He planned to kill Monty and use the hypnotherapy as his defense. But it didn’t work out like that. Monty stayed alive, and it was Tiffany that went missing. And now, he sees that defense as a solution to all his problems.”

  “Harvey, that’s the most planned, cunning, ruthless behavior I have ever heard of.”

  “I should have listened to my intuition, Kate. I shouldn’t have trusted him, but I fell into his trap. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You wanted to help him get out of the game. There’s nothing wrong with that. It was th
e right thing to do at the time.”

  “And look where’s that’s got me.” Harvey threw his hands up in the air. “I shouldn’t help people. I should just worry about my own interests and forget about helping anyone.”

  “Don’t be like that. You’re better than that,” Kate responded. “So now, you think that if you can put Kevin Wu in prison for human trafficking, pimping, or murder, you can convince him to withdraw the civil case.”

  “And all we need is evidence. We have somebody that can help us, but won’t step into the courtroom.”

  “Terrance Marshall.”

  “Right.” Harvey leaned forward, elbows resting on the table as he looked over the files. “He’s refusing to testify—says that if he does, then he will incriminate himself, and doesn’t want to spend his final years behind bars.”

  “Then what you need is leverage.”

  “Leverage?”

  “Absolutely—make coming to court Terrance’s only option. Find something that is dear to him, and use that to squeeze him.”

  “Blackmail him?”

  “Not blackmail, just…” She bit her bottom lip. “Just give him no other option. What could convince him to come clean with the evidence?”

  “Not a lot, it seems. He lives a very simple life on the edge of a reserve, and he’s slowly dying. Death doesn’t scare him, and nor does pain.”

  “How about any family?”

  “As a hired thug, he spent most of his life destroying relationships, not building them. He never married, never had kids, never really dated anyone, as far as I’m aware. I did hear a rumor that he had a child, a girl, and the mother had passed away, but I never heard anything more of it. And I certainly didn’t see any evidence of children when I went to his house.”

  “How then?”

  Harvey placed his pen on the table, leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if an answer was written on it. He stared at the smooth ceiling for a long while before answering.