Baby Brother Blues (Sammy Dick, PI Series: Book 1)

by Trudi Baldwin

  Finally, between guffaws, Geo blurted out, “Sammy, I do believe you’re jealous!” He bent forward, holding his stomach. He was laughing so hard, he wasn’t minding the drink in his hand. Some of his Diet Coke jostled out over the lip of the glass and slopped onto the floor in a big splash. Snack rushed over to lap it up, greedily hitting the backs of Geo’s knees as he ran over. Geo spilled even more of his drink and Snack spun around him like a dervish, lapping and lapping on our semi-clean linoleum tile.

  It was such a funny sight that even I started to get the giggles. Soon we were both laughing together. “At least we don’t have to mop the floor for another week,” I cried out between giggles.

  “What do you mean a week? More like a month on our cleaning schedule!” Geo laughed even harder. Although in the back of his mind, even as he laughed, he dreaded bringing the neat-as-a-pin, brave and competent Kathy into this messy home in the near future. The thought almost made him feel like cleaning it up. For the moment, though, he let all of his pent-up emotions release into laughter.

  I needed a release too. I didn’t want to admit it, but I felt guilty for getting The Big Easy hurt and for putting Delilah in harm’s way once again. It wasn’t the first time and probably wouldn’t be the last, and it made me feel uncomfortable. What a relief, though, to laugh and remove some of the tension and guilt!

  When the laughter died down and Snack had licked up every last drop of the Coke and then some, Geo and I were much more prepared to get down to business. The air had cleared and we were able to focus.

  “Okay, I guess I can play Top Five now.” I smiled.

  “What happened to Straight Rendition?”

  “We’re going to have a hybrid game of Top Five. Well, actually Top Three followed by Straight Rendition as part of my number one hit.”

  “Alrighty then.” Geo strode over to the utensils drawer and pulled out two chopsticks that had been in there for a year without any use. Geo put them to use by beating a drum roll on the yellow Formica kitchen table.

  “Number three on my Top Three List,” I boomed out like a circus ringmaster. I then tugged on my big knock-off bag sitting on the counter, scrounged around in it for a second or two and extracted our first paycheck. “We have been amply rewarded for our first week of work to the tune of nine thousand fucking dollars!” I bounced up and down holding the paycheck in front of Geo’s eyes, so that he’d have to nod up and down to read it.

  When he was finally able to verify what was on the paper, Geo could barely believe his eyes. “Nine thousand fucking dollars! Holy shit, Sammy. This is the biggest amount of money we’ve ever earned in a single week.”

  “I know, I know, I know, Geo! Nine thousand dollars! Ain’t it sweet! I’ll deposit it in our business account today, but I wanted you to see the actual piece of paper it was written on before I did.”

  I stopped jumping up and down as I was struck by a sobering thought. I proceeded to explain to Geo why it wasn’t ten thousand. Geo listened carefully to the bit about Michael and Sylvester’s money-laundering investigation concerns at the 10K threshold.

  Geo said, “Their concerns give me pause. Who knows what all they’re up to or have been part of in the past?” Then he added, “Do you mean to tell me that your number two and number one are even bigger than this?”

  “Not really, but I couldn’t contain myself and wait that long to tell you, Geo.”

  “Oh, ye of little patience, Sammy. Some day that short gratification fuse of yours is going to bite you in the butt.”

  “It already has, Geo. Well, more like Easy’s butt, but that’s later in the story.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Geo said dryly.

  This seemed like a good segue to tell Geo all about the fateful cowgirl spy trip into the desert. I told him the whole debacle in gory detail. Geo is a much better listener than I am. He was especially interested in Karl and Liang’s exchange regarding the “monthly subterfuge” that Liang was subjecting his father to and the reference to “the largest run ever to take place a week from Monday.”

  “Hmm,” Geo pondered, “my guess is a run of cocaine or diamonds. You’ll have to wait until I tell my story to find out why.”

  “Or some combination thereof.”

  “Yup. With some kind of tie to gambling. Or at least that’s what’s in it for Liang, I’ll bet. With a snort of cocaine thrown in here and there for yucks.”

  “Yeah, and Zaiid’s probably in it purely for the money.”

  “And the power it buys him,” I added. “Liang’s just a high-priced mule.”

  “Not even that. Liang’s almost muling for free.”

  “With some pony rides and handcuffing on top of it, with Liang playing the part of the pony.” I shook my head in pity. “Poor Mai. Liang’s one of those addictive types. Weak and spoiled. Hard to control. Hard to love. Never reliable because his addictions are what drive him, not love or loyalty or self-discipline.”

  “She’s got the baby brother blues,” Geo said, bowing his head, then looking up as a thought struck him. “And she’s trying to hide it from Michael and Sylvester.”

  “I think Tomas might be tied up in this somehow, too. He’s attracted to Liang, or at least there’s something going on there.”

  “I don’t know, Sammy. The way you’ve described Tomas so far makes me think he’s loyal to Swann, or at least to Mai,” Geo reasoned.

  “Yeah, you have a point, but it’s not out of the question,” I conceded. “Regardless, I think Tomas knows more than he’s letting on. I’ll keep a close watch on him.”

  “Okay, so what’s your number one?”

  “Well, first is 1.5.”

  “Sammy, you just changed the rules again.”

  “That’s why you love me, Geo.” Or at least I think you do, now that this new Kathy person has arrived on the scene, I thought huffily.

  “Here, hand me the chopsticks, Geo.” I grabbed at them and began my own drum roll on the yellow Formica. “I met with Michael to get the check and asked him to take care of the teeny, weenie problem of the confiscated microphone on Liang’s briefcase.”

  “And what did he say?” Geo was looking at me with intensity, since this was another instance of crossing legal lines.

  I paused for just a beat to let the tension mount. “He said no problem.”

  “Whew!” Geo let out a big breath. “So what’s number one? Or have you decided there’s a 1.4 now?”

  “Oh, Geo, how could you doubt me? Of course I’m on number one now.” I handed the chopsticks back over to Geo and grabbed my bag again. Rummaged around and extracted the four tickets.

  “What have you got there?” Geo tried to examine them from his side of the table. “Or are you going to jump up and down again and make me read them while you’re in motion?”

  I ignored his jab. “Tickets to the Annual Swann Charity Ball to be held at the Ritz Carlton tomorrow night.”

  “Holy moly!” Geo spluttered as he grabbed them out of my hand and read the fine print. “These are a thousand bucks a pop! We didn’t buy them, did we?” he asked with concern.

  “Nope. Ours for free. You get two of them, and I’m giving one to Delilah to try and make up for the trauma I subjected her to today. Michael thinks attending the charity ball will allow us to mingle informally and discover more.” I really wanted Geo to attend because I thought it would help our investigation if he got a feel for our clients and the executive Swann team.

  Geo responded, “What? You think Michael wants me to dance with Liang and try to squeeze the truth out of the little brat?”

  “It’s worth a try, Geo, but I was thinking more like you take your honey, Kathy.”

  “Hmm, I hadn’t thought about that, but no way. This is a business operation, and for one, everything I own is black, but I don’t think any of it qualifies as Black Tie. For two, I’ve never learned how to dance or even how to eat formally. I’d probably embarrass myself in front of Kathy. And for three, I barely know her.”

&nb
sp; At this juncture, Geo’s eyes got dreamy again. Oh, lord, I thought, let’s get this conversation back on track.

  Besides, I wanted to meet this Kathy character and size her up as soon as possible to see how much of a problem she might pose for my partnership with Geo. “Geo, why don’t you let Kathy decide. Some girls love going to balls if they get the chance. Besides, she sounds like the romantic type. You might score big points with her. As far as dancing, most girls are thoroughly pleased if you slow dance with them a few times. Just shuffle your feet around the floor and try to match the music. It’s easy. Plus, Kathy might love to go help you pick out a tux!”

  Geo still looked skeptical, so I upped the ante. “And, Geo, it would give you some more excuses to spend time with her. Tell her you have to do it for your job, and she’d really be helping you out.”

  Geo’s expression shifted from his ‘no way’ look to his ‘maybe’ look. I could see him ruminating on the pros and cons, especially the part about excuses to spend more time with her.

  “I’ll give it serious consideration, Sammy, and let you know by the end of the day today.”

  “That’s my man. Now what have you learned in your investigations?”

  “I’ve learned 3.5 things.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at this. “Okay, okay, what are they?”

  “Numero 3.5,” Geo grabbed back the chopsticks and drum rolled on the chrome edge of the little kitchen dining table for maximum effect. “I found the phone number for Zaiid’s ex-wife in Belgium. Her time zone is eight hours ahead of ours, so I thought we could call her at 8 A.M. tomorrow morning, since I refuse to get up any earlier than that.

  “I’m impressed, Geo. I agree to meet you here at this table at 8 A.M. tomorrow morning to call Zaiid’s ex. What’s her name?”

  “Tonja Zaiid. She still retains his last name. That made it easier to find her. She works for Lufthansa Airlines as a flight attendant. Attractive. I’ll show you a photo tomorrow from her Belgium driver’s license.”

  I knew better than to ask how he got a photo of her Belgium driver’s license and continued, “3.5 was a decent sound byte of info, Geo. Now what’s numero 3?”

  “Numero 3,” drum roll, drum roll. “I’ve researched the Swann business inside and out and my conclusion at this point is twofold: 1) Swann’s profitability is on the upswing, but 2) the industrial diamonds part of the business isn’t nearly as lucrative as Mai and Tomas had predicted. In fact, it may not even be worth the trouble, considering how dominant synthetic diamonds, as opposed to natural diamonds, are in the industrial market. Regardless of what you find out, you may have to recommend they look elsewhere to create a lucrative side business.”

  “Numero 3 is only mildly impressive, Geo. I think I’ve said all this already.”

  “True, but I have now confirmed it. Part of any investigation is confirming the obvious to make sure we’re on the right track to begin with. I think it tells us where to look. It’s the logical approach.”

  “Well said, Spock. I have to agree with you. So what’s your numero 2?”

  “Numero 2 is,” Geo played the sticks lightly on Snack’s head. Not much sound emitted. Just some soft thudding, but Snack panted harder and smiled happily as only a retriever can smile. “I researched the worth and trade value of the little Paul Klee you mentioned. Original Paul Klee’s, like the one hanging on the Swann Company wall, routinely sell in the hundred-thousand range, but Klee’s larger works can go as high as 7.5 million.”

  I whistled through my teeth. “That’s a lot of dough. Maybe Swann needs to switch niches, from industrial diamonds to some kind of art sideline. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Well, that’s not a new niche, Sammy, that’s an entirely new line of business.”

  “You’re right, but the diamond business gives them exposure to all kinds of high flyers who have the kind of money to buy a little, or even a large, Paul Klee.”

  “I think you have to prove provenance of the artwork to deal legally in the art world. Plus, there’s these big auction houses that dominate and control much of the world’s art commerce.”

  “All the more reason Swann would understand how to operate it. The diamond world runs the same way. The DeBeers family dominates and controls the world’s trafficking of diamonds. The major players in the Swann Company are already used to dealing with those kinds of restrictions and limitations. Plus, the Swann executives seem to thrive in that middleman position. Maybe they could do the same somehow in the art world.”

  “Well said, Spock, er Sammy. If we can figure out what, if anything, is leaking in their business, we could put together the art niche recommendation as a further business improvement so we can earn that humongous bonus. But right now, let’s move on to 1.5.”

  “1.5! Now you’re cheating, Geo, and you don’t even know how to say the numbers 1.5 in Spanish.”

  “Well, neither do you, Sammy. Do you want to hear uno point five or not?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Uno point five is that I got the Snoops recording translated.”

  “Wow, that was fast. So what language is it? And what are they saying?”

  “Slow down, slow down,” Geo said raising his palm at me. “The recording was hard to translate because many of the words are inaudible or mumbled, but the translator is certain the language is Cantonese.”

  “So does that tell us anything?”

  “Well, it narrows the speaker down most likely to the city of Hong Kong.”

  “How big is Hong Kong?”

  “Not very big. I think it’s about 420 square miles in size because I was just looking it up for us.”

  “You’re right. Not very big. May not be too hard to figure out who the speaker is.”

  “Except seven million people inhabit those 420 square miles.”

  “Shit! Seven million people! In that small of a space? Sounds like searching for a needle in a haystack.”

  “More like searching in a high-rise. Hong Kong, by necessity, has some of the highest and most densely populated high-rise buildings in the world. Besides, it’s even harder than just searching in the city of Hong Kong, since Cantonese is becoming one of the most used cosmopolitan business languages in the world. Some of the richest Cantonese speakers and others are moving out of Hong Kong and into other major city hubs of the world, as first, second, third, fourth or fifth homes, if you get my drift.”

  “So, essentially, you’re telling me that 1.5 is a big bust because the odds of finding this speaker are next to impossible, since the home we followed Liang to is owned by some convoluted LLC?”

  “1.5 is a bust. In isolation, yes.”

  “Okay, you got me.” I was getting irritated now because I wanted to make some major headway on this case and be able to report something significant to Sylvester and Michael next Friday evening at the restaurant in the sky where we’d planned to meet for Happy Hour and paycheck distribution. “What the hell do you mean by ‘in isolation’?”

  Geo smiled benignly, having successfully surfed the ebb and flow of my emotions before and lived to tell the tale. “In isolation from the information contained in Numero Uno.”

  Snack had now moved his head onto Geo’s knee in hopes of further attention. Geo complied by gently thumping out a new drum roll on Snack’s head. Snack closed his eyes in ecstasy as Geo softly drummed the tune on his skull.

  As Geo began to explain, he laid the chopsticks down and began to stroke Snack’s silky brow. Geo raised his head and looked me right in the eye. “Numero Uno is that Liang called the other speaker Father at least twice in the conversation. So I figure the other speaker in the conversation is either his priest or his dad. Also, at least three times in the conversation the word diamonds came up. So, Ms. Dick, we are beginning to narrow the playing field of this investigation.”

  “You’ve got my attention now. So what do you think is going on?”

  “Don’t know yet. But the translation also included the words Hawker and
Hong Kong.”

  “Well, Hong Kong narrows it down to a mere seven million people and Hawker narrows it down to someone named Hawker or the days of yore. Maybe hawks are the speaker’s weapon of choice, like in the Knights of the Round Table days.”

  “Lucky for you, Sammy, I use electronic investigative skills to help solve our cases, rather than pure wild-ass guessing.”

  “Are you implying I use pure wild-ass guessing to solve all the cases we’ve solved?” I decided not to mention that we’ve only solved a few so far in our short careers. “Don’t forget that Sylvester refers to my wild-ass guessing, as you call it, as my amazing intuition.”

  “My e-skills are trumping your amazing intuition in this instance, Sammy.”

  I was too interested in finding out where Geo was heading to keep on squabbling with him, though we both seemed to thoroughly enjoy squabbling. “What did your awesome e-skills uncover, Geo?”

  Geo flipped open his beloved Mac as he spoke. “The translator, whom I found on the gray market internet, also implied some of the language suggested Liang’s dear old dad might be part of the Triad.”

  “I hope not. I have no desire to get involved with the Chinese Mafia!”

  “Well, we might be headed in that direction and at a quick rate of speed. Further, I think I know what is meant by Hawker,” Geo said, typing a URL in his browser. A photo of a Hawker 800XP emerged on Geo’s huge monitor.

  I quickly scanned the caption. A Hawker was an elite private business jet, capable of flying back and forth between Phoenix and Hong Kong without refueling if need be.

  Geo continued, “I think Hawker might refer to a personally or fractionally-owned business jet that dear old dad uses to transport himself wherever he needs to go. Probably to different homes around the world owned by various LLCs while he conducts whatever businesses he conducts.”

  “Biz-jets must be monitored for transportation of illegal goods, but they’re probably harder to keep an eye on than commercial planes,” I mused.