by Don Easton
“You will have two weeks for behaviour modification,” he said. “These circles represent something special. There will be a different surprise for you on each red-circle day.”
Pops hesitated as his hand hovered near the light switch and said, “I’ll leave this on. Have a good sleep.” He ducked into the passageway and Hang heard the click and the creak of the secret door as it opened and closed behind him.
She immediately got to her feet and walked to see how far the chain would let her go. She could just reach the centre of the room where the toilet and mattress were. She carefully checked out the chain where it was attached to the floor. There was nothing she could break or undo.
She hopelessly looked around before sitting on the floor, using a loop of chain to smash at the padlock. She tore the skin on her leg and bruised her ankle before giving up.
She started to cry and sobbed uncontrollably as she crawled over to the toilet and dipped her broken fingers in the water. The coolness of the water did little to soothe her. Eventually she quit crying and stared blankly at the calendar on the wall. What does it mean? What surprises do the red circles hold?
As her eyes settled on the other pile of chain on the far side of the room, her terror reached a new crescendo.
chapter five
“You there, Jack?” whispered Laura, from where she sat in the darkened room of the property manager’s corner office. The blinds were open just enough to give her a glimpse of the entranceway outside, as well as a view of the main doors to the party room across the foyer.
Jack was parked out on the street and sat slouched in the passenger seat of the car. From the perspective of anyone walking by, it would appear that he was waiting for the driver to return.
He clicked the transmit button on the police radio and said, “Copy. Go ahead.”
“Moustache Pete and the Fat Man are just opening up the doors to the room. They’re each carrying a case of vodka. Looks like they expect a few people tonight.”
“Ten-four. Over an hour to go before the party is supposed to start,” observed Jack.
Minutes later, Jack watched as a taxi van pulled into the crescent-shaped driveway in front of the apartment building and parked under the awning in front of the main doors. He reached for the binoculars.
“Got it, Jack,” came Laura’s voice. “Can see the plate from here. Oh, it’s a taxi.”
Jack watched as seven young women exited the taxi. They were all smartly dressed and wore high heels. Two of them wore coats that were trimmed with fur. The other coats appeared to be made of wool.
Despite the cool February night, their coats were open and Jack could see that they all wore skirts. They also had something else in common. They were extremely beautiful. Three of them were blondes, the others were brunettes.
Laura remained still and heard the women chatting as they buzzed the intercom.
“There’s no answer,” one woman said.
“Try again. These guys have used our agency before.”
“You’ve worked here before?”
“Oh, yeah. I call them Nikolai and Doctor Zhivago. They like that. Both pigs, but if you make them happy, they’re not afraid to open their wallets wide for a tip. Here, let me try the party room.”
Seconds later the women were buzzed in and Laura saw the two Russians come to the entrance to the party room and wave them over.
“Escort service,” Laura relayed to Jack. “Maybe the party is starting sooner than we thought,” replied Jack.
Laura watched as the two Russians carefully examined the women, before taking one on each arm and heading for the elevator. The other three escorts remained in the party room.
“Our boys aren’t greedy,” radioed Laura.
“How so?” asked Jack.
“They only picked two each and headed up to their room. Must be saving the other three for later.”
An hour later, the entourage from upstairs returned. One woman made a motion to re-button the top of her blouse but the Fat Man playfully slapped her hand away. He laughed and shook his finger and said, “No, no, no. I like to look.”
Laura noticed that both Russians had changed their clothes and were now wearing expensive-looking shoes, slacks, and silk shirts open at the neck.
The next hour went by relatively quietly and a mixture of men and women started to arrive. As this happened, Jack would walk down the sidewalk while using the voice-activated tape recorder in his inside jacket pocket to record license plates. When people entered the apartment, Laura confirmed who was of interest and who wasn’t. In the end, Jack had recorded over two-dozen license plates and he estimated that, with the taxis included, approximately forty to forty-five people were at the party.
Several hours passed and Laura whispered into her radio, “Jack, just to let you know that the apartment above me is being used ... about half an hour at a time.”
“The seven escorts?”
“So far, five of them. Five different guys, too.”
“Special guests getting their treats upstairs,” radioed Jack. “Let me know when they leave. I’ll try to identify them.”
“Getting their treats? Is that what you call it? You must have been very disappointed as a kid on Halloween—stand by! Three of the guys who were treated upstairs are now giving Moustache Pete a hug at the door ... he’s kissing each one on the cheek. The three of them are heading for the entrance now. You can’t miss them. They’re all Asians and looking a little whiskied. Incidentally, all of them preferred blondes.”
Jack had no trouble following the three men and was pleased to see that they each drove away in separate cars. He recorded three licence plates, ones he had seen earlier, as now being of particular significance.
The other two men who had been entertained upstairs eventually left separately. The first one drove away in a Jaguar while the second drove off in a Porsche. Jack didn’t need to double check these plates. He had remembered them from when they first arrived.
It was three o’clock in the morning when Jack dropped Laura off at her car to drive home.
“Something was really out of place at the party tonight,” said Laura.
“That being?” asked Jack.
“All the guests. With the exception of the seven hookers who arrived first, everyone else was either dressed—or acted—like lower-class hoods and gangsters.”
“Hoods and gangsters ... there’s an old expression. You been watching The Untouchables again?”
“You know what I mean. Walking around with real attitude. Wearing too much gold jewellery. Doused in enough aftershave to make you gag.”
“You smelled aftershave? Did you go inside?”
“Didn’t have to. I could smell it coming through under the door.”
“Good. Don’t know how long we’ll be working on these guys. I don’t want them seeing our faces until absolutely necessary.”
Laura nodded in agreement and continued, “I guess all I’m saying is I wonder why the Russians would hang out with these guys?”
“Maybe it’s strictly business? Nothing to do with friendship.”
“Maybe.”
“High-class hookers. I would say it was a corporate party. Likely celebrating something. Wish we knew what.”
“Two of the hookers were never used, although our Russian friends always had one latched to their arm all night.”
“Big egos require a big show. We’ll find out about the guests tomorrow when we run the plates,” said Jack.
It was four in the morning when Jack slipped into bed beside Natasha and gently kissed her on her bare shoulder before pulling the blanket higher. She rolled over to face him and lay with her head on his chest.
Jack felt her hand slowly drift up the inside of his thigh and tilted his pelvis slightly while unconsciously opening his mouth in the expectation of pleasure. She stopped and moments later her breathing indicated that she had gone back to sleep. Jack let out a sigh and tried to relax. It took him over an hour to get to sleep
.
It was nine o’clock at night in Hanoi when Bien felt Linh’s skinny arms squeezing his lungs. She was clinging to his waist while he pedalled his bicycle. It made taking deep breaths difficult, but he didn’t mind. They were plenty early to meet the van.
Eventually, Bien pulled up to the appointed location and carried his bicycle up onto the sidewalk while Linh carried the plastic bag containing her clothes.
“Forty minutes early,” said Bien.
“I do not think the American lady will be happy to see me,” sniffled Linh.
“And why not?” asked Bien, although he knew what the response would be before he asked.
“I have no gift to give her.”
“We do not have the money for two gifts. The pearl necklace cost much money. It is worthy of being a gift from the both of you.”
“Maybe Hang forgot to say so.”
“Do you really think she would do such a thing? Leave her little sister out?”
Linh put her head down and said, “No. I do not think that.”
“There is something you have to give that is much more precious than a stone from some oyster,” said Bien.
“What is that?” asked Linh with surprise.
“Your smile, little one,” answered Bien sincerely. “I would not trade your smile for all the pearls in Ha Long Bay.”
Linh tried to frown as she looked up at her father, but there was a twinkle in her eye and she soon smiled and giggled.
At nine years old, some might have found her mixture of baby teeth and adult teeth somewhat less than attractive, but to Bien it was a beautiful smile.
chapter six
The next day Jack identified the three Asians from the party and did background research on them while Laura looked into the backgrounds of the two men they referred to as Mister Porsche and Mister Jaguar.
Jack discovered that the three Asians were Vietnamese brothers who were the owners of two massage parlours. One massage parlour was called The Asian Touch and was one-third owned by each of the brothers. Their given names were Dúc, Húu, and Thao. Their family name was Tran. Dúc was also the sole owner of the Orient Pleasure, the establishment to which the Russians’ cellphone was registered.
Húu and Thao did not have criminal records, but Jack learned that the Combined Forces Special Enforcement Unit had encountered one of the brothers on an investigation two years previous.
Jack told Laura the information and she groaned.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’ll never keep these guys straight,” she said.
“I think the important one to remember is Dúc,” said Jack. “He owns part of what his brothers have, plus the Orient Pleasure, where the Russians’ phone is registered. He’s also the one with a criminal record.”
“So it’s Dúc and his brothers.”
“For now. Incidentally, if you ever read or hear their names someplace, the Vietnamese put their family name first, followed by their middle name, and then their given name. Formally, they address each other by their given name. I would be known as Taggart, Bruce Jack, and if formally addressed, would be called Mister Jack.”
“Okay, Mister Jack, so neither of the two brothers have any criminal history?”
“No convictions, but Thao was the owner of a couple of rental properties where the Vietnamese tenants had grow-ops. They were taken down two years ago by CFSEU.”
“Doesn’t take these guys long to learn about B.C. bud,” said Laura.
“How are you making out with Mister Porsche and Mister Jaguar?” asked Jack.
“They are both well known,” replied Laura. “No convictions, but I just got off the phone with Drugs. Mister Porsche beat an importation charge a few years ago when he tried to smuggle a boatload of hash into B.C. He beat the rap in court by claiming that the dope was on its way to Alaska and that a storm blew them into Canadian waters. The judge said there was no intent to commit a crime in Canada. Mister Jaguar is a major cocaine dealer but has never been caught.”
“Jag and Porsche work together?”
Laura shook her head. “Not as far as any records show. They appear to be independent of each other.”
“Our Russians are the common denominator,” declared Jack.
“I’ve also checked for criminal records on the rest of the partygoers,” said Laura. “Lots with criminal records, but all minor stuff. Low-level drug dealers, that type of thing.”
“I think our Russians were just throwing their version of an office party,” said Jack. “I doubt that any of these people are really their friends.”
“So where do you want to go from here?”
“For now, concentrate our time on the Russians. If we lose them, then we’ll work on Dúc as a backup.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’m going to give VPD a call and see what they have on these guys. The Asian Touch is in their turf.”
Jack’s phone call to the Vancouver City Police soon found him transferred around where he ended up speaking to Detective Rocco Pasquali of the Anti-Gang Unit.
Jack had met Pasquali on past investigations and knew him as a good cop who was not afraid to work. More importantly, he didn’t let inter-agency rivalry affect his work. All he wanted was for bad guys to go to jail.
“The Tran brothers are well known to us,” said Pasquali. “Guess I don’t need to tell you that the massage parlours are just a front for prostitution, but there’s a lot more to him than that. Dúc expanded his operation out to Surrey last year.”
“The Orient Delight,” said Jack.
“You got it. Physically, he’s a small man. A good fart would probably knock him over, but he’s got the power. He heads a Vietnamese gang of at least fifty. They’re into just about everything. Extortion, robberies, drugs, juvenile prostitution ... you name it. They’re extremely violent. Not afraid to take a machete to someone just for making eye contact with them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Lately, the asshole has insulated himself enough as to be basically untouchable. His top lieutenant is a guy by the name of Giang. A real psychopath. I mean that. He deals coke at the pound level. He came to Canada when he was seven. I really think the Vietnam War did something to him before he came over. He really is one disturbed individual.”
“So Giang gets his coke from Dúc?”
“No, Giang freelances that on his own. Dúc uses him more as an enforcer and to keep his girls in line. The two don’t hang together as friends. Giang uses a place called Lucky Lucy’s Bar and Grill as his base of operations. That’s downtown here in Vancouver, on Kingsway, close to The Asian Touch.”
“Any other hangouts?” asked Jack.
“There is also a restaurant close to Lucky Lucy’s called the Mekong Palace. The owner of the Mekong is a nice old guy. Doesn’t want these guys in there but doesn’t have much choice. If Giang is not at any of these places, he usually can be found hanging out with the other punks in Dúc’s gang at Billiard Bill’s out in Surrey. That place is just a block down the street from the Orient Pleasure.”
“I really appreciate this, Rocco.”
“No sweat. I’ll send a copy of everything we have on this group over to you. You need a hand with anything—surveillance, takedowns, you name it—give me a call. Day or night, doesn’t matter.”
“Sounds like you want him bad,” said Jack.
“I do. Dúc’s gang ... half of it is composed of juveniles, for Christ’s sake.”
“Their conscience isn’t as developed. They don’t think of the real consequences of their actions. Explains the extreme violence.”
“Yeah, and they’re more easily influenced and brainwashed ... and usually get probation. You catch Dúc and there’s a bottle of tequila in it for you.”
“Thanks. Actually I’ve switched to gin martinis.”
“Catch him,” said Rocco, “and I’ll be buying the gin.”
“No reward for Giang?” asked Jack.
Rocco chuckled a
nd said, “What are you trying to do, bleed me dry? Giang’s not real smart. He’s been caught before. Unfortunately he’s smart enough not to cross Dúc.”
“Tell you what,” said Jack. “When I nail Dúc, you buy the gin and I’ll bring the vermouth. If I happen to nail Giang along the way, then you can bring the olives, too.”
“That’s a deal!”
The next week and a half went by quickly for Jack and Laura. They focused their energy by doing surveillance of the Russians while doing intermittent surveillance on Dúc.
Dúc had a routine of sleeping in late and then going to the Orient Pleasure for an hour over lunch. He would generally spend the rest of his day and evening at the Great Canadian Casino in Coquitlam. His skill as a gambler left much to be desired.
Surveillance of the Russians showed that they varied their sleep patterns. Sometimes they would appear early in the morning and go to a restaurant for breakfast. On these occasions, Jack surmised that they had not been to bed yet, or, at least judging by the escorts that left the building moments before they appeared, they had not been to sleep yet.
Other times the Russians would not appear until early afternoon, when they would go and drink espresso in different restaurants. At night, they would throw their money around at various nightclubs or go to more expensive restaurants. If they didn’t pick up any women at the nightclubs, they would often call an escort service when they returned to their penthouse.
Hang lay on her side on the foam mattress, staring at the calendar. Pops never shut the light off and she found herself switching her attention back and forth between the calendar and the chain and shackle at the opposite end of the room.
Now she felt so weak that she could barely move. Going by the large X marks that Pops penciled on the calendar each day, she had been there thirteen days. She had been given a plastic cup to drink water from out of the toilet tank. The only food she had been given was one loaf of white bread.