Kim Oh 3: Real Dangerous People (The Kim Oh Thrillers)

by K. W. Jeter

  I slipped past the office doorway. The two security thugs had vanished, probably figuring that this was a good time to reevaluate their career choice. The waiter was taken by surprise by my being there, but that allowed me to lift the tray from him. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll take it from here.”

  SIXTEEN

  The atmosphere had turned even thicker in the manager’s office by the time I came in with the champagne. All of the men looked around at me. The only one who wasn’t surprised was Elton.

  “Kim –” Falcon managed to speak after a moment. “I’m . . . so happy to see you.”

  “I’m glad to be here.” I stepped past the crew guys and set the loaded tray on the desk. “It’s a happy occasion, isn’t it?”

  “It . . . certainly is.” Falcon turned his head to one side, studying me more closely. “That’s kind of a . . . different look for you. Isn’t it?”

  “Your wife picked it out for me.” I started untwisting the wire from the champagne’s cork. “It’s called a cheongsam. I think.” Actually, there had been a label on the dress, that I’d read when I took it out of the bag. But I’d had a general notion before then.

  Curt looked over at me. “You look like The World of Suzie Wong in that thing.”

  “Who’s she?”

  “Before your time.”

  “I thought that was a Chinese dress.” A puzzled expression had formed on Karsh’s face. “Saw a lot of them when I was opening up our Kowloon branch a couple of years ago.” He turned toward Falcon. “Didn’t you say she was . . .”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I started twisting the cork from the champagne bottle’s neck. “As long as somebody’s got an Asian card, it’s allowed.”

  “Well . . .” Karsh nodded in approval. “It’s certainly very becoming on you. Especially the little sleeves. And that – what’s it called? – mandarin collar. That’s it.”

  Yeah, right. I knew damn well it wasn’t the little sleeves and the mandarin collar that had him going. It was the side slit going from the hem practically up to my hipbone. I’d had to yank the elastic band of my underwear up past my belly button and do an auto-wedgie on myself – figuring that a swath of plain white cotton Hanes for Her across my butt wouldn’t have done much to complete the exotic effect. I still wasn’t quite sure what Mrs. Falcon had thought an outfit like this had to do with Polynesia. Maybe those girls at the shop had told her it was a sarong. Who knew?

  “Anyway, you’re right. It is a happy occasion.” Karsh picked up one of the glasses that I’d just poured. “Let’s all relax and enjoy ourselves. Because we are celebrating tonight. Nice new restaurant like this – what’s not to like? Plus . . .” He gestured toward the papers on the desk. “We’ve just signed the merger papers – your boss and me. The lawyers finished drawing them up today. That really makes us all one big happy family, doesn’t it?”

  “Certainly does.” That was all I had to hear. I handed the other glass to Falcon. Then I turned my smile toward Curt and the crew. And especially to Elton. “Oh, wait a minute. I forgot something.” I walked back to where I had dropped my purse beside the door. “Something special.”

  Let me tell you – those Chinese dresses are made for standing around looking decorative and not much else. Especially when’s it as short as the one Mrs. Falcon had got me. Stoop down in something like that, you really give your audience a shot. Everybody in the manager’s office probably still had their eyes locked on my ass, even a couple of seconds after I came up with the .357 in my hand.

  Before any of them could react, I strode across the room with the gun held out before me and stuck its muzzle against the corner of Falcon’s brow.

  “You sonuvabitch. You thought I was going to be dead by now, didn’t you?”

  He couldn’t say anything. From the corner of his widened eyes, he stared at the gun’s shiny metal, as though hypnotized by it.

  Like flipping a light switch, there was some action from the others in the room. Foley’s hand came out of his jacket with his gun. But before he could get off a shot at me, he heard a little metal click right behind his ear.

  He was smart enough to freeze in place. Looking back from the corner of his eye, he saw Elton’s gun pressed against his head.

  “Be cool,” said Elton.

  “That’s right.” I looked over at Foley. “I kinda figured you wouldn’t miss a chance to get yourself back in good with your old boss. Even though you came in here with the rest of the crew to kick his ass.”

  Foley didn’t say anything. He was starting to sweat, which is what people do when there’s a gun cocked against their skull.

  I was sweating, too. With three guns up in the air, the chances of something bad happening was approaching a hundred percent.

  Foley made the right call. He lowered the gun in his hand.

  “Good thinking,” I said. “I’ve enjoyed working with you, but I’m not overly sentimental.”

  Elton dropped his as well. That left just me.

  Let me tell you something else. Things don’t get less tense when there’s only a single gun floating around, instead of three of them. Even if that one’s in your own hand. All sorts of bad stuff could still happen. Like those two security guys that Curt and the rest of the crew had bulldozed. They might’ve been heading back here, with reinforcements. Ugly, well-armed reinforcements. So whatever I needed to get done, I had to do it fast.

  Before I could say anything more, though, Falcon spoke up.

  “Kim –” His voice was hoarse, his brow luminous with sweat. “Let’s talk about this.”

  “What’s there to say?” Curt spoke up. “You set her up to get killed. Just like you set us all up to get killed.”

  “Whoa, whoa. Just a second there, Curt –” Falcon tried to inch away from the gun I was holding against his head. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  “Sure I do.”

  “Actually . . .” Karsh set his champagne glass down on the corner of the desk. “He’s not lying to you. He wasn’t trying to get you gentlemen killed.”

  “Really?” Curt’s expression simmered with anger. “Then why’d he hire Johnny Dodd to come after us? And make it look like Dodd was going after him instead?”

  “You know . . . it’s good that you’ve been thinking about this.” Karsh smiled at him. “That shows initiative on your part. And that’s always a valuable thing, no matter what you’re doing. But there are some things of which you’re just not aware. Perhaps if you came from more of a modern, updated management perspective, you wouldn’t have missed the connections on this.”

  I looked over at him. “You must be kidding.”

  “Couldn’t be more serious, Miss Oh.” Karsh calmly took another sip of champagne – easy for him, since I wasn’t holding the gun against his head – then set it back down again. “Curt is right about there having been a decision made to eliminate certain individuals from the organization – especially now that the merger’s gone through. Times change. And a business’s staffing requirements change with them. Killing people in order to get rid of them is rather old school, I’d have to say. Even for a business like ours.” He raised an eyebrow as he looked at me. “You worked for McIntyre, didn’t you? Nice fellow. Used to do a golf foursome with him every now and then.”

  “Yes . . .” I nodded slowly. “I did . . .”

  “Well, there you go. Perfect example. Look how much trouble he wound up in, doing things the old-fashioned way. He’s not in business anymore. He’s dead.”

  I was starting to wonder how much Karsh knew about me. And about what Cole and I had done together.

  “Listen to him –” Falcon’s voice had a squeak, desperate edge to it. Understandable given the circumstances. And the gun. “He’s telling the truth! I didn’t want Johnny Dodd to kill you guys!”

  Curt’s gaze narrowed as he looked from one man to the other. “Then what was all that about?”

  “Your boss didn’t need to have you killed.” Karsh smoothly continued. “H
e just had to make you look bad. Perceptions are very important in a modern organization such as ours. If we just got rid of you – pushed you out the door, as it were – there could be severe morale problems with the rest of our employees. Especially to the degree that people are aware of the years of service that you’ve given Mr. Falcon. It just looks bad. It makes us look uncaring. So there’s a need to establish that you were leaving the organization for a reason. Because you just couldn’t do your jobs anymore.”

  The anger had disappeared from Curt’s expression. Now he just looked stunned. “Are you serious?”

  “As I said.” Karsh radiated sympathy. “You’re a good man, Curt. You’ve done a good job. But everything’s changing now. The world’s going to be a very different place. And there’s just not going to be room for somebody like you in it.”

  “Look at it from my viewpoint –” Falcon had seen that Karsh’s words had had an effect. “I can’t have people in my organization – the new one, that is – I can’t have them thinking that I’m not loyal to my long-time employees.”

  “Sure,” said Curt quietly. “Even if you’re not.”

  “You got it. I knew you’d understand.” Falcon twisted his head around a little, in order to look up past the .357 at me. “What people believe – that’s important.”

  “But I screwed it up for you, didn’t I?” I jabbed my gun muzzle harder against the corner of his brow. “Except I didn’t screw it up. That’s the problem, right? You put me on the crew, figuring that would really cause them to screw up. Or even if they didn’t, I would. Bad enough that everybody else would figure you had no choice except to get rid of all of us. Right out the door. That’s why you ran off in that parking lot, so it’d look like that was the only way you could save yourself from that Dodd guy.” I was the one getting angry now, as it all sunk in. “Except for one thing. I didn’t screw up. I nailed the guy.”

  “You’re right,” admitted Falcon. “I didn’t figure on that happening.”

  “This, either.” I squeezed the trigger.

  Falcon’s head bounced on the desk. Everything got very quiet for a second –

  “Jesus Christ!” Curt shouted at me. “Are you crazy?”

  I looked over at him.

  “No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”

  “What did you do that for?”

  “He tried to make me look bad. At my job.” I felt a little amazed that I had to explain this. “Like setting me up to fail. That’s just not the kind of thing I get over easily.”

  Falcon’s eyes were still open – wide open, as though now perpetually surprised. An impressive amount of blood started to leak onto the desk. As Curt and the others watched, I used my free hand to topple the corpse onto the floor, then scooped up the papers to save them from the spreading red puddle.

  “You signed these, right?” I held the contracts in front of Karsh. “I heard you say it.”

  “That’s right.” Karsh had gone white, but he was pulling himself together again. “Falcon and I both did.”

  “So the merger’s a done deal. Correct?”

  “Absolutely.” He even managed to take a sip of his champagne, though the glass trembled in his hand. “That’s why Falcon was here.”

  “What happens now? To the organization?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean –”

  “Whose is it?”

  “Ah. Yes.” Karsh nodded. “It’s not quite the way I would’ve gone about it, but . . . you’ve rather done me a favor. The company’s all mine now.”

  “Kinda figured that would be the case.” Also that he was such a cold bastard, when his new partner got blown away right in front of him, it’d be less than a minute before he recovered from the shock. “I did the numbers for my old boss McIntyre, for a deal like this. You people always have the same provisions. In case of the other partner’s death.”

  “Well, of course. There are some . . . sensitive matters involved in a business like this. You don’t want to risk having some outsider getting a piece of it. Someone who might not understand what we do here.”

  “Okay.” I lowered the gun a little bit. My arm was starting to ache from its weight. “Like you say, I’ve done you a favor. Now you can do me one.”

  Karsh shrugged. “Name it.”

  “I need a job.”

  “Pardon me?” He picked up the champagne bottle and refilled his glass. “Doing what?”

  “What do you think?” Curt spoke up from the other side of the room. “The only thing she’s good at is killing people.”

  “Hold it right there.” I pointed toward him with the .357. “I’m also a very good bookkeeper.”

  “If you say so.” Karsh set his glass down. “Why don’t you get a job as a bookkeeper, then?”

  “Do you need one?”

  “Not at the moment. Our Accounting Department’s pretty well staffed.”

  “Fine,” I said. “Then I’ll take the position of your Chief of Security.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Somewhat of a promotion, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. But I’ve earned it. I’ve pretty much kicked the ass of everybody you thought was going to kick mine. You want to see my application for the job? Go back over to the hotel and look at those two guys of yours I left lying on the floor.”

  “Collier?” That had caught his attention. “And . . .” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember the other’s name.

  “Amboy,” I said. “The one with the glasses. Let’s just say you won’t need to give them two weeks’ notice now. Or severance pay. That saves you a little money, right? On top of whatever you had promised that Johnny Dodd guy.”

  “Indeed.” Karsh nodded, impressed. “You are rather cost-effective, at that.”

  “Wait a minute –” Foley broke in. “What about us?”

  “Just shut up.” Curt looked over at him in disgust. “We’re lucky to be retired now.”

  “Got that right.” I turned toward Karsh again. “So – do I get the job?”

  “Well. You certainly seem qualified. All right, then. Cash basis okay?”

  “No, it’s not. I need paper.”

  “Really?” That surprised him. “Usually people in your line of work don’t like to leave that much of a trail.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve got social workers on my ass. All right?” My mind was racing. I had to wrap this up before anybody came through the door and saw me waving a piece around in front of their boss. “I need a written employment offer, W2, standard deductions – put me down for one dependent – the works. Otherwise . . .”

  “Otherwise what?”

  “Dude. I’m the one who’s standing here with a gun in her hand. Figure it out.”

  “Miss Oh . . .” He smiled. “You’re very persuasive.”

  “No, I’m not.” I held up the .357. “This is.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The party had ended.

  While we were having our little meeting back in the manager’s office – the guests had cleared out of the restaurant. The stage where the band had been playing was empty. Even the waiters and kitchen staff had gone home.

  I was really tired. It’d been a long day. Plus, I had an early morning appointment with Karsh’s HR people. There’d be all sorts of forms to fill out, and I didn’t want to screw any of them up.

  When I went back to the ladies room to get the stuff I’d left there – that was when I broke down.

  Goddamn door was locked.

  I futilely tugged at the chrome handle, then pounded on the door with my fists, just in case there might’ve still been somebody in there. Nothing.

  Elton came out – he must’ve heard the noise I was making – and found me slumped at the foot of the restroom door, sniffling and feeling sorry for myself.

  “Hey. What’s all this?” He stood and looked down at me. “People who kill other people for a living don’t cry about it.”

  “I’m not, you moron.” I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb. “I can�
��t get my stuff.”

  “What stuff?”

  “My clothes. What, you think I came over here dressed like this? I changed in there.”

  He reached over my head and rattled the door. Why do guys always think that if you can’t do something, it’s because you didn’t try doing it?

  “Well, that sucks.” He sat down on the floor beside me, leaning back against the door. I shook my head when he offered me a cigarette, then he put the pack away without lighting one up for himself. “Still . . . you had a pretty good night. Better than the rest of us. You’ve got a job, at least.”

  I rubbed my teary eyes with the butt of my palms, but that was as far as I could get. Stupid outfit didn’t have sleeves long enough to wipe my nose on. And I didn’t want to borrow Elton’s handkerchief, if he had one. I never knew whether you were supposed to give those back to a guy with your snot all over it, or just keep it. Seemed rude, either way.

  “Yeah,” I said. “About that. I’m already in over my head, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Whaddaya mean?”

  “Think about it. I’m going be head of security. That means I’m going to be in charge. I have to put together a whole new crew for Karsh. Especially since I already killed some of his old bunch.”

  “I’m sure if they’d known there was going to be a chance they’d wind up working for you, they wouldn’t have been so ornery.”

  “Doesn’t help me now.” I gave a long, dragging sniff and wiped the back of my hand under my nose. “But you could.”

  “Oh, I get it.” Elton looked back into my hopeful gaze. “You want me to come work for you. Doing security for Karsh.”

  “Yeah. Don’t you think it’s a good idea? Seriously.” I hadn’t even thought about it before, but now the idea rushed into my head. “I mean – you and I get along all right, don’t we? You helped out me out a lot just now. And you’re . . . you know . . . younger. Than those other guys. I could use you.”

  “I don’t know.” He rubbed his jaw. “Does the position come with benefits?”