The Benefactor

by Don Easton

  “Things like extortion, gambling, loan-sharking and protection rackets,” Jack remarked.

  “Exactly. Fortunately, your interest is in the Vietnamese, who aren’t as well established or organized. They operate their grow-ops like independent farming operations, but funnel their product through whomever Satans Wrath tells them to. At the moment, Dong Tran VC-1 looks after that end of the business. He is who Satans Wrath use as their go-between for Benny Wong CC-1.”

  “I suspect Satans Wrath want to keep the Vietnamese as independent farmers. Easier to control than if they were to unite under one banner.”

  “Definitely. So going back to Dong Tran VC-1, there are five bosses directly below him that we know of.”

  “What you would call VC-2s?”

  “You got it. Then each VC-2 has about four or five VC-3s working for them.”

  “Who is Tom Nguyen VC-3’s boss?”

  “Bien Duc VC-2. But if you’re investigating a murder, then you should know that most run-of-the-mill drug-related murders, such as defaulting on debt, do not need approval from the VC-2s. The VC-3s hold the power to do that. It would only be if a murder could have serious ramifications, like an all-out war … or trying to kill a cop or a judge or something, that a VC-3 would need permission from higher up.”

  “Do the VC-3s get their hands dirty?”

  “Not personally. They select the shooters to do the murders. The status of being picked as a shooter puts you one step up from the street criminals.”

  “Not much of a promotion, but I don’t imagine they’re picked for their brain power. More likely it’s their lack of brain power that promotes using them.”

  “That’s for sure,” replied Roger. “Most are punks. You can tell the ones who have done a hit by watching them swagger around after. Of course, the VC-3s pretend to respect them and give them a pat on the back with promises of great things to come.”

  “You guys have your work cut out for you.”

  “We don’t have the manpower to go after who we would like. To try and stop the current bloodletting, we are forced to concentrate on the shooters.”

  “Informants? Wiretap?”

  “We run a lot of wiretap, but these guys are experienced enough not to let much slip. As far as informants go, it is next to impossible to get any of the shooters to inform. They know that if they co-operate and are found out, they’re dead. If they go into Witness Protection, then a loved one or a relative will be killed.”

  “And you think you have someone leaking info’ to the Chinese in your office.” Jack sighed.

  “It seems to be Chinese-oriented, but regardless, if you’re meeting a Vietnamese informant tomorrow, be damned careful what you put down on paper or who you tell. CC-1 and VC-1 meet regularly. If it is serious enough, I could see the information being passed on.”

  Jack thanked Roger and after he hung up, he passed on what he had been told to Laura who copied the information down in her own notebook.

  When Jack was finished, Laura perused her notes and said, “If AOCTF is right, it looks like Tom Nguyen VC-3 would have told the two punks in the car and Harry Ho in the van to do the hit … but why?”

  “Which is what we need to find out. Speaking of Harry Ho, what did you learn from his P.O.?”

  “Ho is currently serving probation on top of a previous probation period for his third conviction of trafficking in cocaine.”

  “Bet that teaches him a lesson,” said Jack sarcastically. “No, wait, yesterday he sat in a van and picked out someone to be murdered. Could it possibly be that our criminal justice system has a flaw in it?”

  “Actually his P.O. has great hopes for him,” replied Laura.

  “Wonderful,” said Jack, lamely. “I take it the P.O. doesn’t know why we’re interested?”

  “No. I gave him the bogus bit about his car being one of dozens that we were checking and said he might not be involved in our investigation.”

  “Third dope trafficking conviction with no penalty,” Jack muttered. “Why would the P.O. think he would change?”

  “Says he is holding down a job as a take-out delivery driver at a restaurant and —”

  “Let me guess. The Hanoi House?”

  “My God, Sherlock? How did you figure that one out?” replied Laura, with mock surprise.

  “And he is obviously making good money on tips to be able to afford a new car,” added Jack.

  “Obviously. I don’t think the P.O. realizes that besides delivering egg rolls, they also deliver dope. The fact is, Ho must be making really good money. The P.O. said Ho has no parents and is living with his grandmother and helping her pay the mortgage. On top of that, he is supporting a younger sister living in the home who is still going to school.”

  “Perfect,” said Jack. His face hardened and he looked at Laura and said, “We’ve got a rat in a trap. Time to go home and get some sleep. We’ll start our next shift at three in the morning.”

  “What will we be doing at three a.m. on a Friday morning?” asked Laura.

  “First I’ll get a cheap transistor radio.”

  “Then what?”

  “Smash it with a hammer.” Jack grinned at Laura’s puzzled expression. “You’ll see. It’ll be fun. Another one of those grey areas.”

  Chapter Nine

  It was eleven-thirty on Friday morning, when Harry Ho pushed a shopping cart across the parking lot of a bulk grocery store. He loaded the order of chicken and pork for the restaurant into the back of the van and was about to close the rear door when he heard a woman’s voice behind him.

  “Excuse me, are you done with the cart?” she asked.

  Ho turned around and saw a man and a woman. Before he could reply, the man grabbed him by the throat with one hand and shoved him backward onto the van floor. Ho opened his mouth and gasped in fear. Fear that gave rise to absolute terror when the man stuck the business end of a Smith & Wesson 9mm semi-automatic pistol into his mouth.

  “You’re under arrest,” growled Jack, noting the relief flash across Ho’s face when he realized he wasn’t about to be murdered.

  Ho remained silent as Jack searched him. The only item found of significance was his cellphone, which Jack handed to Laura.

  Seconds later, Harry Ho was sitting with his hands handcuffed behind his back and propped up against the inside wall of the van. Jack parted the curtains leading to the front to allow light in as Laura left, closing the rear door behind her.

  Jack then sat, resting his back against the van wall while staring quietly at Ho who was across from him.

  “What’s this all about?” sneered Ho, putting on a false bravado. “You got nothing on me. What am I being charged with? Dope?”

  “Dope? Why would you jump to that conclusion?” asked Jack.

  Ho stared sullenly at Jack, then blurted, “Give me my phone back. I want to call my lawyer.”

  “You may be interested in what we have on you,” replied Jack, “and the consequences of your actions.”

  “What consequences?” snickered Ho.

  “That will be for you to decide. I’ll explain all about it when my partner returns. In the meantime, relax.” Jack smiled. “Tell me, how is your grandmother doing?”

  Ho frowned. “She’s fine. Why? What does this have to do with her?”

  “And your little sister?”

  “She’s fine too. Why are you asking? They don’t have anything to do with anything.”

  “You’re not entirely a bad guy,” said Jack. “Helping out with the mortgage. Making sure your little sister goes to school. Although, someday, I suppose you think the house will be yours.”

  “That is not why I am doing it,” said Ho, defensively. “My grandmother raised us since we were little. She will live a long time yet. I’ll have my own house by the time she dies.”

  “Really?” Jack smiled as though he were hiding something.

  Ho scowled at Jack and said, “I’m not talking to you anymore until I speak with my lawyer.”

/>   Jack nodded. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you were quiet. I’ve become quite sick of listening to your voice this past while.”

  Ho looked startled. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Eventually Laura returned and opened the rear door and motioned for Jack to step out so she could talk to him in private.

  Jack eased himself out of the van, but left the door open to keep an eye on Ho as he and Laura stepped back out of earshot.

  “He made a call to another cellphone,” whispered Laura, “starting six minutes before Betty Donahue was run over and ending about the time of her death.”

  “Do we know who owns the other cellphone?” asked Jack.

  “Nope. Likely disposable. This idiot should have disposed of his.”

  “Wouldn’t make much difference if he had, as long as this works,” replied Jack.

  “You really don’t think he knows the difference between a bug and a radio circuit board?”

  Jack half-smiled. “I doubt it.”

  “If this goes sideways, at least we can’t be charged with an illegal wiretap,” noted Laura, optimistically.

  “You worry too much about the grey areas.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been getting them in my hair from working with you.”

  Jack eyed Ho in the van and whispered, “Let’s do it. I also don’t want to tip him off that they got the wrong person … if in fact they did.”

  Ho stared nervously as Jack and Laura climbed back into the van and closed the door behind them.

  “It’s time to let you in on something,” said Jack, glaring at Ho. “We’ve got you for murder.”

  “Murder?” Ho did his best to look surprised. “You’ve got to be kidding? You’re joking … right?”

  “It’s no joke to drive over and kill a woman out walking her dog,” snarled Jack.

  “I never did that!” replied Ho, looking shocked. He quickly regained his composure and added, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Your part was to sit in this van and watch when she left her house, then call to have her run over,” said Jack.

  “I said I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Ho, defiantly. “I want my lawyer right now!”

  Jack shrugged. “No problem, but you may want to know what we have on you, so you can tell him. Are you interested to hear what that is?”

  “Go ahead. Tell me what you think you have, but I’m not answering any questions,” replied Ho.

  “It wouldn’t matter if you did,” said Jack. “We haven’t read you your rights yet, so anything you do say to us would be inadmissible.” He glanced at Laura and said, “Go ahead.”

  Laura thumbed through her notebook and said, “Here it is … Wednesday … two days ago, we have photos of you in this van arriving to watch her house at seven-forty-five that morning. You saw her come out of her house at twelve-forty-two and notified your buddies.” Laura looked up at Ho, smiled and waved his cellphone in her hand before continuing. “You stayed on the line for six minutes until they drove over her and left.”

  “That don’t mean squat,” replied Ho. “So I made a call. You trying to say my phone was bugged?” he laughed. “Go ahead and bullshit, but I bought that phone this week. I know it’s still cool.”

  “Oh, we’re not talking about having your phone bugged,” said Jack. “You see, we were working on you for drug trafficking out of the van. Imagine our surprise when our monitors got around to reading what you had to say.”

  “What … what are you talking about?” asked Ho.

  “Guess the investigation is over,” said Jack, looking at Laura. “I may as well take the transmitter out.”

  Ho watched intently as Jack reached up and pulled off the plastic cap over the interior light in the back of the van to expose a small slit in the roof lining. He then reached in with his fingertips and pulled out an electrical wire connected to a small circuit board and put the item in his pocket.

  Ho’s face went white. “You had the van bugged,” he gasped.

  “You really picked the wrong van to watch her house,” noted Laura.

  “Thought you were a dope dealer,” said Jack. “Didn’t know you were a murderer too.”

  Ho started to hyperventilate, then squeezed his eyes shut to try and calm himself while shaking his head in sorrow for being caught.

  “Maybe we have some good news for you,” said Jack. “As an alternative to spending the next twenty-five years in jail as somebody’s bitch, you could work for us and not be charged.”

  Ho glowered at Jack and said, “You mean to rat. I ain’t nobody’s rat!”

  “You’re only twenty-three years old,” said Laura. “Think how old you would be when you got out.”

  “We would never burn you,” said Jack. “Although we can’t guarantee you immunity from any other officers, anything you tell us will be kept confidential and not used against you. We are after who orchestrated the murder. We know you were just a flunky.”

  “I’d rather go to jail than be murdered for being a rat,” replied Ho, stubbornly.

  “No arrests would ever be made if it would mean having you identified,” said Jack. “With your help, we would figure out a way to do it so you were safe.”

  “Forget it!” Ho sneered at Laura. “You’re right. I am only twenty-three,” he said smugly. “Basically an innocent kid. If I ever was convicted of doing what you said I did, I would be out in about seven years at the most.”

  “There is one more thing,” added Jack. “Have you thought about what will happen to your grandmother and your sister while you’re in the joint?”

  “They’ll manage,” replied Ho.

  “You should know that we will be seizing your grandmother’s house,” said Jack.

  “You can’t do that! My grandma’s got nothing to do with it!”

  “We have you for dealing dope,” said Jack, sounding matter-of-fact. “You have been helping pay the mortgage. The house is therefore considered the proceeds of crime and I will see that it is seized … unless you co-operate!”

  Ho looked wild-eyed back and forth at Jack and Laura’s stony faces. Soon tears welled up and he whimpered, “Are you sure nobody will find out?”

  Chapter Ten

  After thirty minutes of intense questioning, Jack and Laura let Ho return to the Hanoi House so he wouldn’t be missed. They then returned to their office and Jack listened to a phone message from Connie Crane.

  Connie said that discreet inquiries on Mia Parker did not reveal any criminal connections. Mia had graduated top in her class when she obtained her master’s in psychology and was currently taking political science. She was single and living in a basement suite a short distance from the University of British Columbia. The owners of the house, Maxwell and Julia Rolstad, were also checked and had no record of any criminal involvement.

  Connie noted that Parker’s mother, Jia-li Parker, was a Chinese Canadian and a freelance journalist without any known criminal ties. The only record on file for Jia-li was due to her husband being killed in a hit-and-run accident twenty-five years ago. It happened when he was in a crosswalk at dusk on a rainy day. Although the hit and run was unsolved, Jia-li was definitely ruled out as having any complicity in the crime and Mia was only three years old at the time. Inclement weather and speed were listed as the likely cause.

  Jack passed the information on to Laura and they reflected on the similarity of Mia’s father dying in a hit-and-run accident, but considering her age at the time, decided it was not relevant.

  What Jack did decide might be important was the Chinese ancestry. He reviewed his notes as to what they had been told by their new informant. As usual, he had worded his notes to protect who had actually given him the information.

  One day prior to murder — Tom Nguyen (VC-3) ordered Anh Dang to kill an elderly woman who lived alone. Anh Dang lives in a house in Delta with others who work with him at the Hanoi House Restaurant.

  Anh
Dang was ordered to pick two others to help him. He picked Paul Cong and Harry Ho. Cong lives at the same house in Delta and Ho lives in Richmond with his grandmother.

  Tom Nguyen never gave the reason behind the murder. He simply supplied the address and described the victim as an older woman who lived alone and had a dog.

  It was imperative to make it look like an accident and Tom Nguyen told Anh Dang to steal a car and drive over her.

  Anh Dang stole a car and was the driver. He told Paul Cong to be his passenger and Harry Ho to watch the woman’s house from the van and call him when she left.

  Jack then flipped the page of his notebook to what he thought was the most important detail.

  The hit was of extreme importance — Tom Nguyen VC-3 told Anh Dang that the orders came down from the top (Dong Tran VC-1 to Bien Duc VC-2 to Tom Nguyen VC-3 and then to Anh Dang).

  “So what do you think?” asked Laura, when Jack looked up.

  “It still doesn’t make sense to me,” replied Jack. “Why would the top Viet order such a hit?”

  “He is under Satans Wrath control,” noted Laura. “Maybe it has something to do with them.”

  “I don’t think so. They would have made sure it was done right. The real target, Nancy Brighton, is still alive.” Jack shook his head as he tried to think of a motive, then added, “Dong Tran is still a crime lord onto himself. I don’t think Satans Wrath were involved.”

  Laura grimaced as she thought about it. “If it was over Nancy Brighton fingering someone for a possession beef … that seems ludicrous.”

  “Coincidental, though,” replied Jack. “It was only the week before that Nancy saw Mia Parker stash the drugs.”

  “Yes … but for possession? What would she get? A small fine or probation?”

  “You know what I think of coincidences,” muttered Jack. “I don’t think we can rule anything out. We’re going to have to keep digging. Maybe get a wiretap and do something to get the bad guys talking. I better give I-HIT a call.”