by Alan L. Moss
“You get some rest. We have a long way to go.”
Joy snuggled into her seat and Michael got comfortable in his. When they arrived in Greymouth, they would find a charter boat to Pago Pago. Once there they would get a room at the Agelu Lodge, the last place George Partain was seen alive. They would question the owner, a French lady Michael remembered. They would ask if she knew whom George had done business with. Then, they would devise a strategy to bring the conspirators down.
***
Almost asleep, Michael felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. He opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of Russell James standing in the aisle. He held a rolled up newspaper and had a sinister smile on his face. Peering into the paper, Michael could see the glimmer of the metal barrel of a tranquillizer gun, aimed at Joy’s shoulder.
Michael prayed for a surge of adrenalin but it was no use. His limbs were as heavy as lead and a thick fog fell over him. He looked over at Joy and saw her flinch and then slump. All went to black.
RISKY BUSINESS
June 2, 2001 – June 4, 2001
CHAPTER 28
TEMPTATION
June 2, 2001
Nu’uuli Village, American Samoa
George Partain sat down to a meal of wonton soup, spring rolls, and chicken chow mien. Spending a couple of hours at the Fantasy Gardens in the Nu’uuli Shopping Center was required whenever he visited American Samoa. While the food was good, it was the Chinese waitresses who made his hours there so enjoyable.
Many of these young women had just arrived from China. Although they had limited English skills, they made up for it with their drive to please. George scored more than once, inviting waitresses out to a movie and bringing them back to his room at the Agelu Lodge.
Tonight, his server proved to be different from the rest. Yun had pale white skin, styled jet-black hair, and the height and figure of an American model. She was the most seductive creature he had ever seen.
At nine o’clock Yun brought him a dessert of vanilla ice cream, orange slices, and a fortune cookie. As she placed them before him, George made his play.
“Yun, would you like to go out with me after you finish here tonight? You are very attractive and I’d like to get to know you.”
The young waitress stared at George for a moment, blushing. Then, she regained her composure.
“You very nice but I don’t know you. My brother said be careful in Samoa.”
George smiled at her and took the napkin off his lap, placing it on the table.
“Well, Yun, your brother is wise. A pretty girl like you should be discrete. I’m a private investigator from Hawaii and I have business in Samoa a few times each year. Before you decide, ask your boss, Billy Chan, whether I would be a suitable date. He and I have known each other for many years.”
After she finished serving his dessert and dropped off the check, George saw her talking with Billy. George helped the restaurateur clear up a dispute with a local loan shark. He knew he’d get a positive recommendation.
A few minutes after George finished his dessert, Yun came over to the table. As she picked up George’s payment, including an overly generous tip, she said she would be happy to go out with him. In fact, Billy would allow her to leave as soon as George was ready.
“I’m honored,” George joked, as he rose to leave the restaurant with her.
“Mr. George,” Yun interrupted, “you forgot open fortune cookie.”
George turned back to the table and picked up the cookie. Breaking it in two, he pulled out the fortune.
“Wise man knows when enough is enough.”
“Good advice,” reflected the detective as the two walked out to waves and smiles from Billy Chan.
***
George opened the passenger door to his rented Jeep and Yun climbed in. As she sat down, George noticed her shapely legs, exposed as her tight-fitting dress hiked up above her knees.
As soon as George got behind the wheel, Yun turned to him with a smile.
“Where we go, Mr. George?”
“I thought we’d go to Sophia’s Barefoot Bar. It’s a beautiful night and we can sit out under the stars and watch the ocean.”
“That be fine. I never go to Sophia’s. Some girls say that very nice place.”
As George started the car and began to back out, Yun grabbed his arm.
“I sorry, Mr. George, but I promise my brother I drop off my apartment key to him. His fishing boat just arrived and he need place to stay.”
George told Yun he had no problem taking her to drop off the key before going to Sophia’s. She had an address for her brother in Pago Pago and they headed down Route No. 1 into town. George knew Pago Pago well and it took less than fifteen minutes before they were in front of a dilapidated clothing store with windows featuring cheap Hawaiian shirts.
“This store is all dark, Yun. Are you sure this is right?”
Yun checked the address.
“This right number. Brother say walk down alley and knock on side door.”
George sat back a minute and looked into Yun’s eyes. Although he trusted Billy Chan, he was having second thoughts about this waitress. If this was some kind of setup, it was pretty smooth. On the other hand, he only had a few hundred dollars on him and that kind of crime was rare in Samoa.
Yun unclipped her seat belt and began to get out of the Jeep.
“You wait here, Mr. George. I drop off key.”
As she opened the Jeep’s door and swung her legs around, George decided.
“No, wait, Yun. I don’t want you walking alone.”
George checked under his windbreaker to make sure his pistol, a Walther PPK, was in its holster under his right armpit. He got out of the car and met Yun at the entrance to the alley. He held her hand and they walked down the littered alley together. About halfway, George spotted a side door with light seeping through the cracks.
He stepped back and Yun knocked. A few seconds later, the door swung open and inside George saw what could have been a movie set from a nineteen-thirty’s gangster picture. Four men sat around a poker table with one naked light bulb overhead.
“Hey, George,” yelled a familiar voice. “Why don’t you sit down and stay a while?”
George peered in, spotting Sammy Finn. He knew Sammy as an expert fisherman and one of George’s frequent golf partners in Samoa. He was also Samoa’s most famous jewelry designer, making bone carvings fashioned into exotic fish, turtles, and other nautical figures. Sammy never looked clean-shaven, had reddish-blond hair, and carried two-hundred pounds on his six-foot frame.
George purchased a necklace from him, a white sea turtle with large sapphire eyes on a gold chain. The recipient of this trinket, a valued lady friend, was most appreciative.
Sammy’s jewelry market used to be limited to American Samoa, with an occasional sales trip to Hawaii. Now, George heard Sammy had a successful Web site that made him a fortune selling and shipping his wares around the globe.
“Hey, Sammy, how’s your luck holding out?” George asked.
Yun walked over to her brother and handed her extra apartment key to him. Her brother must have been in his thirties and also looked to be rather tall. In addition to Sammy and Yun’s brother, two Korean men sat at the table, one could have been the twin of Odd Job, the character from the James Bond movie Goldfinger.
Yun walked back to George, ready to continue their date, but before they could leave, Sammy spoke again.
“I’m not kidding, George. We just lost two players leaving us unable to play high-low games. I know you have a beautiful date, but why not sit in for a half hour or so, try your luck, and then be on your way?”
George looked at his watch. It was a few minutes after ten and he knew Sophia’s stayed open until two, so there was no need to rush.
His once-in-a-lifetime project seemed to be headed for indisputable success. Just that day, he learned that Paul Pecura, the lawyer he recruited at Matautu’s suggestion, was named Chairman of the Special
Industry Committee that would set Samoa’s minimum wage rates. Amazing what a small political contribution can accomplish.
The doctor he hired already recruited fourteen wealthy patients, with the fifteenth about to place six million dollars in the designated escrow account; that would bring the total to their ninety million dollar target.
George introduced Gregory Ponsonby to Gale via telephone, and the logistics of a future transfer of fifty-one million dollars for fifteen diabetes cure kits was worked out. Cautionary legal papers were signed. Very early that morning, George finalized an agreement with an individual who would be sure to distract Dr. Bloom and weaken his performance.
In two or three short weeks, his financial difficulties would be a distant memory, so George decided to play. Placing a chair just behind his, he asked Yun to sit and bring him good fortune.
***
The game was typical of those played in Samoa. While it had no limits, fishermen and most others who played didn’t have enough cash to make them dangerous. It was unusual if a player won or lost more than two-hundred dollars.
Sammy introduced George to the others around the table and the game got underway. George purchased one-hundred dollars in chips and was offered the first deal. He shuffled the cards and put them down in front of Sammy, who cut the deck. George called twittle and he dealt each man five cards down.
Under the rules of twittle, each player is dealt five cards face down, followed by a round of betting. After that round, the players still in the game can draw up to four cards on an ace. Then, the players place one card up and the betting continues as they roll one card at a time.
With all but the last card up, each player left in the game must declare whether he is going high (with a royal flush as the best hand) or low (with ace, two, three, four, six as the lowest or worst hand). Players declare by placing no chips (low) or one chip (high) in a closed fist under the table. On a predetermined signal, the players simultaneously reveal the contents of their hands.
The betting concludes with one more round. At this point, if all the players are going the same way, the pot goes to one winner. If at least two bettors go in opposite directions, the pot is split.
As play continued, George fell further and further behind. The men liked and kept calling twittle, his game, but for some reason, he couldn’t win. Most of the chips seemed to move in front of Odd Job, who almost single-handedly cleaned out the two players who departed earlier.
George’s problem was the curse of second best. If you have a weak hand, you fold right away and your losses are minimal, but when you have what appears to be a good hand which is just topped by another, you bleed dollars. Over the next hour, he went down more than one-thousand dollars and was betting from an IOU vouched for by Sammy.
As the deal came around to him, wanting to end it, he called jacks to open-trips to win. This five-card draw requires a pair of jacks or better to open, but three of a kind or better to win the pot.
The game created huge pots and often was called at the end of a long night of poker. After forty minutes, the pot contained more than three thousand dollars. Each player invested enough chips to guarantee that all would try to stay to the end. Yun sat quietly. She knew their intended good time was lost, unless George won this last, big pot.
At one-fifteen, Sammy dealt the cards and George peeled one from the other to reveal a pair of jacks. Before he could open, Odd Job opened for one-thousand dollars.
With his pair of jacks hidden, George called, Sammy called, Yun’s brother folded, and the other Korean folded. George took three cards, Sammy three, and Odd Job one.
Because Odd Job opened, it was his bet.
“It will cost five thousand to see,” he said with a smile that showed all of his discolored front teeth. “Because you’re playing off an IOU, I will too. As agreed, the loser’s debt must be paid within forty-eight hours.”
George looked at the three cards he had drawn and couldn’t believe it — three aces. He was sitting with an aces-over-jacks full house.
He figured Odd Job opened with two pair and also drew a full house, but, George had the aces, so his full house couldn’t be beat. He was home free.
When it was his turn, George spent an inordinate amount of time feigning examination of the odds. He wanted to relay that he wasn’t sure if he had the winning hand. Then, putting down his cards, he made his play.
“I’ll call your five thousand and bump another five thousand.”
Sammy hesitated, exhibiting concern over the size of the stakes. Later he admitted he didn’t really know the two Koreans and had heard stories about them collecting unpaid debts in blood. Although he was down by more than two-thousand dollars, he was playing with his cash and decided to quit. After all, with no limits, it was impossible to tell what it would cost to see the winning hand.
The betting went back to Odd Job and he pulled back his IOU from the pot. Next to the five thousand he wrote another fifteen thousand. He placed the paper in the middle of the table, numbers up. Scowling at George, he dared him to call.
“Let’s see what size balls little man have.”
George stared at the IOU in disbelief. In three weeks the twenty-six thousand, six hundred dollars he might owe would be chicken feed, but right now, with the IOUs to be paid in forty-eight hours, he would have a problem. Somehow, if he lost, he would have to make sure this debt wouldn’t jeopardize his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for financial independence.
As happened too many times before, his inability to resist a game of chance put him in peril.
George thought about the fortune cookie.
Wise man knows when enough is enough.
Yet, he was certain he held the winning hand. Ultimately, he was unable to consider his decision in the broader context of his life. It was a game of poker and it was way too late to fold.
He could feel the sweat on his brow running into his eyes, not a good omen for a successful poker player. George wiped the moisture away, pulled his IOU from the table, and wrote, “Plus $15,000.” Tossing it back into the pot and clearing his throat, he called.
Odd Job smiled again and one-by-one turned over his cards. George watched in disbelief: the queen of hearts, the queen of clubs, the queen of diamonds, and the queen of spades. The Korean had four queens to George’s full house. Yun dropped her head and put her hand on George’s shoulder. Once again, bad luck struck him down.
“Well, that’s one hell of a hand, my friend,” George said, faking unconcern. “Where would you like me to drop off your cash?”
Smiling and joking with his friend in the seat to his right, Odd Job turned to George with a stern look.
“I’m leaving for Western Samoa tomorrow morning. I’ll be back on Sunday. That gives you over twice the agreed time. Monday, you be at Robert’s Motel, Room 12, seven at night. Just make sure you’re there. My ship leaves this piss hole Tuesday. I’ll leave with an even twenty-six thousand dollars or your dick on a platter. You got that?”
CHAPTER 29
DESPERATION
June 3, 2001
Boston, Massachusetts
Jack Flanagan sat sipping a cup of coffee, reading the contract he signed last week. It was time to wire the six million dollars to the Swiss bank account specified in the agreement. In a few minutes, the Vice President of Boston Financial Bank would appear and tell him his funds were transferred.
When Jack finished re-reading the contract, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. Instead, his mind brought him back to the beginning.
***
Jack and Kellie Flanagan sat quietly in the doctor’s waiting room. For them, this year was an unlikely combination of financial superlatives and personal horrors.
On the bright side, Jack’s software patents earned him more than one-hundred million dollars. At first, working out new ways to access data for Internet sites seemed like a game. Then, his partner of seven years sat Jack down, forced him to meet with their attorneys, and do the paperwork to obta
in patents. That was 1992, before America Online, Yahoo, and Google became household names. Now, those firms compensated him handsomely for the games he played back then.
In spite of their huge home in the exclusive Boston suburb of Weston, the Bentley parked in the garage, the Lexus in the driveway, and the live-in help who relieved Kellie of any housework or cooking, the year two-thousand and one was a nightmare as far as their family life was concerned. Jack and Kellie’s twelve-year-old son was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. At first, Tim seemed to adjust to the difficult life of controlling his blood sugar through insulin shots and diet, but within three months of the diagnosis, things spiraled out of control and no one, including their doctor, could restore the boy’s equili-brium.
One day he would be shaky and pass out, the next he would be hyperactive and unable to focus. After too many close calls, Jack got the name of the area’s leading expert, an endocrinologist specializing in diabetes and meta-bolism. Dr. Forer ran a number of tests on Tim and wanted a doctor-parent conference.
After Jack and Kellie waited twenty minutes past their three-thirty appointment, the nurse called them into the doctor’s office, a large, richly appointed room overlooking Boston Commons. A huge mahogany desk sat at the far end facing a comfortable couch and three upholstered chairs. Jack called Kellie’s attention to the doctor’s diplomas from the University of Michigan and Harvard Medical School.
After another twenty-minute wait, the door opened and the doctor entered his office. Forer, who looked middle-aged and was of medium height, wore his glasses dangling from a cord. He sat down at his desk and greeted the Flanagans.
“Jack and Kellie, thanks for being so tolerant. My policy has always been not to leave a patient until every question is answered and every issue thoroughly discussed. While this practice tends to make me late and annoys those waiting, once I’m free for my next appointment, they appreciate how I conduct the office. Now, let’s review what we know about Tim.”