The best thing about the clean building was that scores of knockout sculptures studding City Hall’s façade were easier to see.
I entered through one of the building’s massive arches and reached one of the many doors leading into the maze of hallways. Navigating City Hall’s corridors to find an office is almost as difficult as understanding some of the legislation City Council devises. No matter how many times I’ve walked those halls, I’ve seldom been able to find an office on the first try.
This time I accidentally entered the door to the hall leading right to Mort Zucker’s office. Must’ve been some strange synergy or something. The dreary threadbare, linoleum-lined hall, had a monotony occasionally broken by old oak doors looking majestic but sad. Shingles hanging on the wall outside the doors announced what you might find inside. Mort kept an ancient caricature of himself taped to his door. “Doc Zucker, the Fixer” it said, and in it he was young and dapper, even if it emphasized his less than pretty features. The boardwalk artist in Ocean City had captured his essence.
Zucker’s usual answer to requests was, “No problem. I can fix you up.” Mort could hook you up with all sorts of information or people who could get you anything from a scrap of information to a job. Mort never charged a cent. Of course, he didn’t have to charge. The taxpayers footed the bills while Mort sat in his City Hall digs and twiddled his thumbs. Still, Old Mort was known to take cash slipped to him to grease the wheels a little faster. Mort was nobody’s fool.
I turned the brass knob and pulled open the door. If the halls were dreary, the offices were even more dismal. With the exception of City Council offices which had just gotten an expensive overhaul while the Council debated raising taxes.
True to form, Mort sat facing the door. His portly body planted firmly in a comfortable, padded swivel chair. Head resting on the chair’s back, eyes closed, a gentle snore escaping every couple of seconds, he appeared blissfully asleep. I stepped to the counter and quietly leaned forward on my elbows. Mort continued working on his pension with a few more snores.
Clearing my throat softly, I stared, willing him to wake up. No dice. I repeated the action, this time louder, which only caused Mort to issue a rip roaring snort that rattled papers and fluttered his jowls but didn’t wake him up. Slapping my hand on the counter’s surface finally startled Mort to wakefulness. His feet dropped from their perch on his desk, his eyes widened, and his mouth hung open.
“Son of a bitch!” A bit of drool slurred his words. “ What the fu… hell do ya think you…?” Mort focused and saw me. “Marco! That wuz you?”
“Me? Me who? What’s up, Mort?”
“You woke me up. That’s what’s up.” Mort laughed, a phlegmy sound. “Son of a bitch, disturbin’ a workin’ man.”
“How’s tricks, Mort?”
“Nothin’s what it used to be. Goddamn mayor is tryin’a pile more work on all us poor slobs. Imagine? We work like slaves and he cracks the whip even more.”
“Yeah, I kinda wondered why things seemed so busy here.”
“So? What can I do for ya?” Mort snorted and snuffled as he gathered himself together. “I ain’t under no illusion that you come in here for a social call. Right? Got no flowers and no candy. That means you want something.”
“I’d’a known you wanted flowers I’d have brought ‘em. I never figured you for a flower guy.”
“Wiseass. All’a you wops are wiseasses.”
“You mean wiseguys, right?”
“I said wiseass and I meant wiseass. If you was a wiseguy, I’d be sittin here talkin’ to you with my throat cut by now.”
I laughed.
“So? What can I do for you, Marco? I don’t see you in a dog’s year, I know you want somethin’ now. But, hey, I don’t care. As long as you still remember Morty.”
“You’re right, Mort. I’m sorry I haven’t been in for a while…”
“A few days is a while. A month is a while. But I ain’t seen you in six months, a year, maybe.”
“Hasn’t been that long, Mort. A day doesn’t go by I don’t think of you.”
“Yeah. Cut the bullshit. Nobody thinks about this old man except when they need something.”
“A friend of mine was killed, Mort. Murdered.”
His expression melted into one of pity. He’d seen his share of trouble. One of his brothers had been murdered and he’d never gotten over that. “Whaddaya need? Just tell me. You got it.”
“Turns out my friend, Brad, was on a jury not long before he was killed…”
“And you’re thinkn’ it’s connected? This is serious, Marco. You gotta go to the cops, not that they’ll do much good but you gotta protect yourself.”
“Thing is, the cops are already on the case but they have other murders with higher priorities than a dead gay masseur.”
“Yeah.” He sighed with the new burden then sat forward in his seat, and swiped one hand over his balding head. “So what can a guy like me do?”
“I’ve gotta know for sure if there was some connection between the trial and Brad’s murder. That means I need information. Names of lawyers, other jurors, maybe even a trial transcript.”
“They got all this at the Criminal Justice Center.”
“But not yet and maybe not for a long while. I need it yesterday. So, I thought maybe you had some…”
“Shortcuts?”
I nodded encouragingly.
“Marco, you ever know me not to have a contact someplace?” The phlegmy laugh again, which went on longer and transisted into a cough.
“You cut down on the smoking yet, Mort?”
“Ahhh.” He waved away the question and I knew he was still two packs a day. “Listen, I got contacts at Criminal Justice but it’s gonna take more than a minute.”
“As long as I get it yesterday, Mort.”
I gave him the dates I’d gotten from Brad’s files along with Brad’s name, so the mysterious contact could zero in on the right trial.
“Lemme call you after lunch. I’ll fix you up.”
***
Back out in the vast and empty City Hall courtyard, I took out my cell phone and called Luke. I wasn’t far from Chinatown and I needed more information on Wheeler before I visited his offices. So I decided to set up a lunch meeting.
“Clean Living,” Luke said sounding all business.
“Got any nude house cleaners who know how to treat a guy right?” I half-joked, knowing how Luke felt about his nude housecleaning division. That division survived because it made money and because Luke was afraid someone else would capitalize on the idea if he dropped it.
“Wh…? Marco? You’re a crazy man. No naked house cleaners for you.” Luke laughed. “What’s up?”
“I’m down here at City Hall and you know what’s close by.”
“Um… The mayor? No… wait… you’re not a fan of the mayor so it can’t be him. Give me a minute… is it the cute chauffeur who works for the President of City Council?”
“The answer is Chinatown. I wanted to know if you had plans for lunch.”
“I kinda do, Marco.”
“No problem.” I’d hoped to coax Luke to invite Xinhan so I could get more information from him about Wheeler. “Business or something hot?”
“I’m having lunch with Xinhan.”
“That’s a coincidence.”
“You don’t believe in coincidences. How many times have you told me that?”
“In murder investigations, no. In things like this… Okay, call it synergy or something. I was gonna ask you if you could set up a meeting for me with Xinhan. Like maybe all three of us having lunch.”
“Oh.” Luke said and was silent.
“I don’t want to horn in if you have plans. Xinhan’s a hottie, if I were you, I’d have plans.”
“As a matter of fact…” Luke laughed.
“Knew it. I won’t interfere. Tell Xinhan to call me. I need some inside information on Wheeler. Tell him the sooner the better.”
�
��You know what?” Luke said. “You’re not interfering. Lunch is just the prelude anyway.”
“Nah, you two have lunch, I can…” I didn’t want to watch them mooning over one another anyway.
“No. It’s settled. You’re coming to lunch. What happens after... you know what they say, ‘two’s company, three’s a crowd.’ You’ll hear all about it later.”
“Countin’ on it.”
“We’re meeting at the Five Mountains on Tenth Street near the arch. It’s one of his restaurants.”
“I’ve heard good things about it. He owns that, huh? He’s a keeper then.”
“Oh, get real, Marco. We’re having lunch. And now you’ll be chaperoning. Meet me at eleven-thirty.”
“Will do,” I said and disconnected. I could tell Luke and Xinhan had a lot more in common than their home town. Despite Luke’s protests, I knew he was excited about the possibilities. I was happy for him. So why did I feel so strange?
***
“Nice” would not have been the word I’d have chosen for the Five Mountains. Maybe “elegant” or “serenely beautiful” or “exquisite” would begin to describe it. Once through the exotic golden pillars at the entrance, I found myself in a vestibule with delicate bamboo plantings. A copy of a terracotta soldier from the tomb of the First Emperor guarded the doorway. The fresh flowery fragrance wafting through the air and subtle lighting created a peaceful transition from the sunlight and urban noise outside. The interior was a knockout. A rectangular pool of water ran along the entire length of one side of the restaurant with pink lotus blossoms set in deep green leaves floating on the gently moving water. The walls were faced with green stone that appeared both modern and ancient. Gentle lighting suffused the restaurant with an air of tranquility.
After City Hall’s pedestrian, tired-looking interior, I felt as if I’d been transported to another planet. As I gazed at a wall hanging with the most elegant golden dragon I’d ever seen, I realized Xinhan was standing next to me. He fit right in. Cultured, serene, and handsome. “Mr. Fontana. I didn’t expect the pleasure of your company again so soon. Welcome to Five Mountains.” Carefully chosen words. He was too much of a diplomat to say I’d intruded on what he’d hoped would be a private lunch. He offered a subtle bow and I returned the favor.
“I’m impressed. This is fantastic.”
“I’m glad you approve, Mr. Fontana. Luke tells me you have good taste.”
“Call me Marco.” I smiled. “Where’s Luke?”
“He’s already here. I’ve taken a table for us in another room. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve ordered some of our specialties.”
“Not at all. I hope you don’t mind me horning in, but the case is stalled without more information on Smithson Wheeler and you graciously offered to help.” I could at least be diplomatic while intruding.
“Then you haven’t made any progress?”
“Not as much as I’d hoped. I’m getting closer. If you can fill in some details, I’d appreciate it.”
Walking to the back of the restaurant, we turned left into a huge room with a ceiling that was fifty-percent skylight. Tropical plants grew everywhere and music flowed like a river through the space. Two areas at the back were set off by waterfalls contained between sheets of glass, providing privacy and soothing sounds. The bubbly flowing water allowed observers to see people in the room only as blurred silhouettes.
Rounding one of the water walls, I spotted Luke sipping tea from a delicate cup.
“Marco! Beautiful place, isn’t it? Very classy. Just my style.”
“You kinda understated that a bit, don’t you think? This is beyond nice. We’re in Palace of Versailles territory here.”
Xinhan smiled and took a seat next to Luke. The only other chair was across the table from them.
I sat and reached for the teapot but Xinhan beat me to it and poured a cup for me. Sitting back he nodded at a waiter who’d been standing by. The young man moved off quickly.
“How long has this place been here?”
“We’ve been open about a year,” Xinhan answered. “It wasn’t easy putting all this together.”
“We’ve been to Xinhan’s other place a hundred times,” Luke said.
“We have?”
“The Golden Phoenix is on Race Street. They have killer dim sum every weekend. Coming back to you now?” Luke smiled.
“That’s your place, too? Luke’s right. Been there a lot. Never noticed you there, though.”
“My businesses keep me running.”
Before we could say more, a female server arrived with a large bowl. She nodded as she set it down, then retreated.
“Chengdu chicken,” Luke said, his eyes gleaming with approval. “My favorite.”
My lips had been numb for a week after the first time I ate that dish some years before. It had enough spicy heat to warm the East Coast. Chengdu chicken eventually become a favorite of mine. The sight of the food suddenly brought back a memory of Galen: a few years ago, Galen had come to dinner with me, Luke, and others and told us how he’d fallen in love with Chengdu chicken when he’d traveled through China working for the mysterious outfit he never named. His face was so clear in my mind, smiling as he savored the spicy chicken. I wondered where Galen was now and if he ever got to eat Chengdu chicken.
“Marco?” Luke said. He stared at me. “You all right?”
Still caught in the memory, I hesitated and before I could speak, a waiter brought bowls of brown rice for each of us. “I’m good. Just remembered something I hadn’t thought about in a long time.”
Luke nodded solemnly, and I knew he understood what I meant. He and I were always on the same wavelength.
A third waiter, sultry and seductive, placed two large platters before us. One I recognized to be specially prepared kidney. Yet another spicy dish. The other was an eel dish with a purple leaf spice.
“Please,” Xinhan said, indicating with a wave of his hand that we should start.
After we’d been eating and chatting for a while, Xinhan looked at me. “You have some questions I can help you with, Marco?”
“I hope you can help. I’m trying to pull together the few elements I’ve got so far…”
“If I can assist, please…”
“You said you knew Wheeler pretty well, right?”
“Smithson was a private person. I only knew so much but I learned to read him well enough over the years. I could often tell what he was thinking and how he might respond.”
“I’m going to his offices later. I’d like to know whatever I can before I get there.”
“So you can tell if they’re being honest with you.” Xinhan stated.
“Marco’s good at seeing through a liar but advance information never hurts,” Luke said.
“The more I know, the more I can find out. Knowing the right person to approach would help. Who’d be the most knowledgeable? Who was closest to Wheeler?”
“That would have to be Phil Caragan, his personal assistant. He’s worked for Smithson a long time.”
“An honest guy?”
“If Smithson was ever out of town or otherwise involved, I could always count on Phil.”
“Anyone else there I should talk to?”
“No one else has Phil’s knowledge or access. Smithson gave Phil the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. He knows almost everything Smithson knew.”
“This is a big help, Xinhan. I owe you.”
“Luke said you were good at what you do and for Smithson’s sake, I’m glad.”
“Mind a few more questions?” I looked him in the eye and noticed just the merest sign of annoyance but his sense of noblesse oblige was strong.
“He’s relentless once he gets started,” Luke said. “I warned you.” He laughed and Xinhan smiled.
“Please ask. If this will get you closer to Smithson’s killer…” His voice wavered a moment but he quickly controlled whatever feelings rushed through him. “I want to help.”
I sipped some
tea thinking about how to proceed. I wanted to ask questions Xinhan might not like. “Was he worried about anything before... that night? Did he seem preoccupied or upset?”
“Before… let me think.” Xinhan closed his eyes for a moment. “I seem to remember him being concerned about money.”
“His own financials?”
“Not his own money. Smithson was quite wealthy. It was something else. I entered his office for a meeting as he was quietly finishing up a phone call. I heard him say that things were out of control and that nothing was going as expected.”
“Did you ask him about that?”
“Of course not.” Xinhan was miffed. “This was obviously private business. It was not my place to intrude.”
“Right. I understand,” I said. “Did you know Brad Lopes?”
“The other man who was killed? The masseur? Not exactly.”
“Was there any indication that Mr. Wheeler saw Brad on any sort of a regular basis? You have any idea if they were involved?”
“Again, Mr. Fontana,” Xinhan said, slipping into formality which meant I’d hit a sensitive area. “This was Smithson’s private life. What he did and with whom was his business. He didn’t often share that with me.”
“I’m not trying to smear the man’s reputation, Xinhan. That gets me nothing. I’m trying to connect things so it all makes sense. Maybe it’ll help solve the case. You want that, too. You said as much.”
“Certainly. Smithson meant a lot to me.”
“Stands to reason you’d want to protect his reputation. None of what you tell me has to get out unless it has to. Even then we’ll try our best to control it.”
Xinhan nodded, looked at me pensively.
Luke glanced from me to him, torn about what he should do. “Xinhan,” Luke said gently. I knew that tone of voice. Had heard it many times. “Marco’s right. He’s a good man, the best I know. He won’t reveal anything that doesn’t have to be out there. Believe me. I trust him with my life. Already had my life saved by Marco more than once.”
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