Warren Lane

by Andrew Diamond

  There was no signature. Susan turned the paper over. The other side was blank. She turned it back again, and then looked at Ready in bewilderment and asked, “What is this?”

  “I can’t tell you any more than what it says there,” Ready said.

  “What has Will been doing?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” Ready said. “But I wouldn’t tell you if I did know.”

  “Does this mean he’s going to jail? Is he going to leave me with nothing?” Ready felt her rising fear and was afraid, both for her welfare and at how her distress affected him.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what it means.” He wished Ella were there to explain everything. He tried to remember her words. “Your part is just to stay out of his business. That’s all you have to do.”

  These words calmed her, and she looked again at the letter.

  “You didn’t write this, did you Warren?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “This is a woman’s handwriting. And I don’t think you’re capable of composing these kinds of sentences.”

  “Oh,” Ready said proudly. “My assistant wrote that. She’s really sharp.”

  “So I see,” Susan said. She scanned through the note again, and then said, “Thank you, Warren. Thank you for doing all this for me.”

  She kissed him softly on the cheek. After starting to draw away, he pulled her in and kissed her on the mouth. Then he stared at her for a second in confusion and said, “Susan, I really have to go. I can’t stay here with you.”

  He turned and left without looking back, and she watched after him with a smile.

  After he left, she filled the coffee maker and turned the switch on. She read the note again as the coffee maker gurgled, then tore it up and flushed the pieces down the toilet.

  She poured a cup of coffee and inserted the USB drive into her laptop. There she saw the four folders into which Ella had neatly arranged everything: Photos, Emails, Texts, and Travel.

  There was also a document. Susan opened it to see neatly laid out tables showing the correlations between the dates of the photos, emails, texts, and travel:

  April 2: Email to Hitomi

  April 9,10,11: Texts to Hitomi

  April 11: Flight to Tokyo

  April 12-14: At Tokyo Hilton

  April 12: Photo of Hitomi in restaurant

  April 12: Photo of Hitomi in hotel room in underwear

  The document went on like this for many pages.

  Susan opened the photos folder and was shocked by the sheer number of images. She clicked on a picture of a young Thai woman standing under a palm tree wearing only a pink bikini bottom. Her left arm was folded across her chest, and the expression on her face showed she didn’t want to be photographed.

  “Good God, Will! How old is that one? Eighteen?”

  She browsed through a few more photos, studying each of the women and comparing herself to them. “He likes them young,” she observed. “And skinny.”

  After the first dozen or so, she raced through the remaining photos, spending less and less time on each woman. Her breath became more shallow and rapid as the parade of images overwhelmed her. She felt a new revulsion for her husband, deeper than anything she had felt before. Her disgust mixed with feelings of anger, betrayal, abandonment and nausea.

  She stood up abruptly from the computer when her last click brought Ella’s sweetly smiling face to the screen. The photo showed just her head and shoulders, the blue straps of her bikini standing out against the light-brown slats of a poolside chair.

  As much as it shamed her to do it, Ella had included Will’s photos of herself, along with their texts and emails. Her sense of duty to this injured woman compelled her to be completely honest.

  “Oh, you!” Susan said. “You nasty little slut! If I ever see you again, I’ll slit your fucking throat!” Ella had almost the same feelings when she first came across this photo among Will’s trove of images.

  Susan slammed the laptop shut and spent the next ten minutes pacing her hotel room, crying and shuddering.

  Chapter 23

  The following morning, Will was at his desk when his phone rang.

  “Hello?” said Will.

  “Hey, Will. It’s Arnie.”

  “Oh, good timing,” Will said. “I was just finishing up some work for the quarterly books. If expenses are close to last quarter, we’re doing well.”

  “Expenses are about the same,” Arnie said, “but that’s not what I’m calling about.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Something strange happened last night. I went into the office around midnight, and saw a guy leaving the building. Inside the office some of the drawers were open, and some things were out of place. The alarm hadn’t gone off, and when I checked the security station, all of the cameras had been shut off. This guy knew what he was doing.”

  “Sounds like it,” Will said.

  “But here’s the weird thing. He got into my assistant’s computer, and he left what he was looking at right there on the screen. Like he wanted us to know what he was after. It was your stuff, Will. Payroll, accounts, taxes. It was all up there on the screen. He probably copied the files.”

  “You say you saw the guy coming out of the building?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Skinny guy. Maybe around forty,” said Arnie.

  “Got a beak for a nose and hair combed straight back?”

  “Yeah. You know him?”

  “Yeah, I know that little piece of shit.”

  “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Will.”

  “No, no. I appreciate you telling me.”

  “You’ll send me those files today?” Arnie asked.

  “I’ll have ‘em to you in an hour or so.”

  Will hung up and put his feet up on his desk. “Warren Lane,” he said slowly. “You are starting to get under my skin.”

  Chapter 24

  While Will was talking to his accountant, Lane was arriving at his office with a cup of coffee. Maxine was at her desk, leaning forward, her face just a few inches from her computer monitor.

  “Find anything interesting in there?” Lane asked.

  “Yes I did,” she said. “There’s a spreadsheet in here showing deposits and transfers from an account labeled ‘HK.’ It’s all hand-entered data. Look at this.”

  Lane took a seat at the edge of her desk, and she turned the monitor so he could see it. “Looks promising,” he said.

  “There’s more,” Maxine said. “Every deposit into this HK account happens the day before a shipping container leaves China or a few days after it clears customs in Long Beach. Look.” She pulled up another spreadsheet showing container numbers, manifest summaries, and shipping dates. “It’s not every shipment. Only once every few months he gets these payments. One hundred thousand when the ship leaves China. Two hundred thousand after it arrives in the US. The first few shipments were fifty thousand for the initial payment. But it went up a few months ago.”

  “That is interesting,” said Lane, looking excited. “This is the part of the job I love. Keep digging. Let me know what you find.”

  Chapter 25

  Ready returned to Susan’s hotel late that afternoon, the day after he’d given her the flash drive. He knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” Susan asked. Her voice sounded flat.

  “It’s Warren.”

  When Ready heard the chain sliding on the inside of the door, he asked, “Are you dressed?”

  Susan opened the door and looked him in the face. “I’m dressed,” she said. Her hair was a mess, and he could see she had been crying.

  “May I come in?” he asked.

  She stepped aside to let him by and closed the door behind him.

 
; “I just wanted to check on you,” Ready said. He studied her drained face. “I know what you saw yesterday must have hurt.”

  Susan made no response. She just stared at him blankly, her eyes distant and unfocused.

  “Did you sleep last night?”

  She shook her head slowly. “No.”

  “You should sit down,” said Ready. “You don’t look well.”

  He guided her to the edge of the bed and they both sat down.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.” She lay down and curled onto her side and put her head on the pillow.

  “Can I get you some coffee?”

  She shook her head.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No. I’m glad you’re here. I’m tired of being alone with my thoughts.”

  She closed her eyes, and let her mind drift. When she opened them a few seconds later, Ready was staring at her.

  “You don’t like it when I stare at you like that,” she said with a little smile.

  “Sorry,” Ready said.

  Susan sat up and put her arms around his neck. “You do make me feel better, you know. And it’s not just because you think about me and check in on me. It’s just…you.” She kissed him, and he returned her kiss with passion.

  Her smiled broadened, though it was still tinged with sadness. She ran her hand down his chest and stomach, following it with her eyes. Looking up from his pants, she said, “Oh, Warren, I can’t do that right now. I just can’t.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to. I think you need to get out. You need some air.”

  Susan nodded. “You’re right.”

  “I’ll take you up to the mountains,” Ready said. “I know a nice, short hike. Do you think you’re up to it?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good answer,” Ready said. “All joy begins with yes. Grab your shoes.”

  “All I have are these,” Susan said, picking up a pair of flats near the closet.

  “It’s a ten minute hike. You’ll be fine in those.”

  Ready took a seat at the desk, where he laid a little packet next to the lamp and began to roll up a dollar bill.

  “What are you doing?” Susan asked.

  “Just a little pick-me-up,” Ready said. “I’m a little slow today, too.”

  “What is that?” Susan said, snatching the packet from the desk.

  “Just a little coke,” Ready said.

  Susan put the package into the pocket of her skirt.

  “What are you doing?” Ready asked.

  “Saving your life. Is this what you did with the money I gave you?”

  Ready shrugged. “It’s just a little treat I enjoy now and then.”

  “No,” said Susan. “You need to stop this. Half the time I see you, you’re hung over. You need to get a hold of yourself.”

  Ready turned away from her and looked angrily out the window.

  Susan walked around him and looked him in the eye. “You can’t keep doing this, Warren. You’re a beautiful person, but you’re killing yourself, and it breaks my heart.”

  “That packet’s not sealed,” Ready said. “It’s going to leak.”

  “So what?” Susan said. “I’m going to throw it out as soon as we leave.”

  “That cost a lot of money,” Ready said.

  “I don’t care. I’m getting rid of it.”

  Susan put her shoes on. When they got on the elevator they found the control panel hanging from the wall and Omar standing in front of it.

  “Hey, Warren.”

  “Hey, Omar. This is Susan.” She shook his hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” Omar said.

  “Nice to meet you,” Susan said. “Are you two friends?”

  “We drank some beers together once,” said Omar. “You want the lobby?”

  “Yes, please,” Susan said.

  Omar picked up the control panel and pressed L.

  In the lobby, Susan headed for the coffee shop and Ready said, “Meet me in front in a few minutes. I’ll pull the car around.”

  Chapter 26

  Warren Lane was leaving a meeting on the second floor of the hotel when his phone rang.

  “Warren, I was just going through the payroll records and I think I found your man,” Maxine said. “Moore’s got an hourly worker named Yun Zhu. Looks like he does some janitorial work, packing, and unloading. Every time one of those shipments comes in with the big payment attached, this guy clocks in around 10:00 p.m. and works until two or three in the morning. And that’s after he’s worked a full day.”

  “OK,” said Lane.

  “It gets better,” Maxine said.

  “Ooh. I’m getting excited.”

  “His social security number belongs to a guy who died a few years ago.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I think he’s illegal.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “LA. I have his address.”

  “Sounds like it’s time for a little drive,” said Lane.

  He ended the call just as he was exiting the hotel. And there in front of him was an unexpected sight.

  As a valet pulled up in his red Audi with the broken driver side mirror, Susan turned to see Lane’s sharp green eyes staring through her. She instantly marked him as a psychopath. He approached her with the graceful ease of a tiger, and she could not suppress a little smile at his arrogance.

  “Susan Moore,” Lane said. He rudely looked her up and down, appraising her as if she were a horse, and pausing pointedly at her breasts and thighs. She understood he was trying to intimidate her, but there was something odd about the man—something asexual, stunted, and almost pre-adolescent. “I have a message for your husband,” Lane said.

  Susan said nothing.

  “You know he’s been doing a little business on the side. It’s not just pretty pictures and nice furniture he’s importing.”

  He lifted a lock of hair from her shoulder and rubbed it between his fingers. “Have you ever wondered how he affords that big house? Those fine cars? All the travel?”

  He looked into her eyes and saw to his surprise that she was still at ease. Her lips were fixed in a faint, curious smile. Lane decided to bring out his next weapon.

  “Or the other house? How does he afford that? You know about his other house, don’t you? With his other woman? The little blonde?”

  Still her eyes were calm and the smile remained.

  “I don’t know why he’d need another woman when he has you at home, as pretty as you are,” Lane said. He inched back to look her over once more, this time examining the line of her back. He put his hand on her shoulder, turning her slightly to get a look at her behind. “But you’re getting older, I suppose. Perhaps the mileage is starting to show. Maybe you’re not as pretty with your dress off as you are with it on. It’s always a shame when a woman reaches that age.”

  In her mind, she confirmed her initial judgment of him. She saw no ring on his finger, and she wondered for a moment if he had ever kissed a woman.

  “Or maybe you’re just frigid,” he said.

  She turned and put her hand gently on his cheek, pulled his face toward hers, and kissed him on the mouth. As she did this, she slipped the leaking packet of cocaine into the front pocket of his jacket.

  When she drew away, she saw the confident tiger transformed into a startled housecat. Warren Lane had no idea what to make of what just happened. Her smile broadened just slightly when Ready’s blue Toyota approached the curb.

  She got into Ready’s car, and Lane, still puzzled, turned to look at her before getting into his Audi. The two cars left the hotel simultaneously, and Lane sped off. Susan pulled out her phone and dialed 911. “I’d like to report a drunk driver,” she said. “R
ed Audi.... Yes, I have the license number.”

  After she hung up, Ready asked, “What was that all about?”

  “I don’t know,” Susan said.

  “It seems to have perked you up.”

  “I don’t like people like that,” Susan said. “But it’s nice to have the chance to be nasty to someone and not feel bad about it.”

  A few minutes later, they saw Lane’s Audi at the side of the road, parked in front of a police cruiser with flashing lights. Ready slowed his Toyota and Susan smiled and waved her fingers. Lane watched them as they passed.

  When the policeman appeared beside his window, Lane said, “What’s the problem, officer?”

  “License and registration, please,” the officer said flatly.

  Lane handed him the documents and said, “I know your supervisor.”

  “I hope I can tell him we had a pleasant meeting,” the policeman replied. “What happened to your mirror here?”

  “It seems to have broken off, officer,” Lane said with a subtle hint of mockery. “Couldn’t you tell? You were looking right at it.”

  “Step out of the car,” said the cop.

  “What?”

  “Step out of the car.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  “Get out of the goddamn car!” the policeman commanded.

  Lane opened the door and climbed out.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “Not at all, officer,” Lane said with smile. “You can give me a breathalyzer if you’d like. I’m not a drinker.”

  “What’s this?” the officer asked.

  “What’s what?” said Lane.

  “This trail of white powder on your jacket.” As Lane looked down, the policeman wiped a bit the powder off and rubbed it between his fingers.

  “That looks like cocaine,” the policeman said. He pulled the packet from Lane’s pocket.

  Lane was about to protest, but instead he laughed as he realized how Susan had got the better of him.

  “You think this is funny?” said the officer, twisting Lane’s arm and spinning him roughly around.

  “Watch the suit, you fucking ape!”