The Benefactor

by Don Easton

  “They’ll think I’m weak,” protested Boyle.

  “Naw, are you kidding?” replied Jack. “They’ll respect your honesty. That’s a big deal for them.” He looked at Laura and asked, “What do you think?”

  “Oh, for sure,” said Laura.

  “Trust and honesty is what it is all about,” said Jack. “You don’t see Staffing working homicides. They’ll like and respect you for telling them that. It’ll be more like you are one of them.”

  Boyle bit his lower lip, but didn’t respond.

  “Now would be a good time to go to them,” prodded Jack. “By Monday morning Anti-Corruption will know our informant is dead. They’ll be coming to me pretty quick. The faster you can get out of here, the better.”

  Connie and Roger returned with their coffee in time to see Boyle get up from his desk and shake hands with Jack and Laura.

  “Thanks, guys. I owe ya one,” said Boyle quietly. He looked at Connie and said, “Can I talk to you for a moment in private?”

  Connie glanced suspiciously at Jack before nodding and gesturing with her hand for Boyle to come into her office, where she closed the door behind him.

  Moments later, Boyle left Connie’s office and disappeared down the hall as Connie waved for them to come in.

  “Mind telling me what you said to Boyle?” asked Connie.

  “I told him that I thought he was too naive to be in I-HIT,” replied Jack.

  “Yeah, I bet you did,” replied Connie, shaking her head in disbelief. “Whatever you said scared the shit out of him. He told me he can’t handle the stress and wants a transfer. I didn’t believe him, so he called Staffing right from my desk and told them the same thing, only added that he is having suicidal ideation.”

  “Where did he go?” asked Roger.

  “I could hear Staffing gasp from where I’m sitting,” said Connie. “They told him they wanted to see him immediately. I bet he only comes back to clean out his desk.”

  “Wonder if they’ll let him keep his gun,” mused Roger.

  Connie looked at Jack. “You obviously threatened him with something.”

  “Me? He told me it was you who tore a strip off him. I wonder if he’ll name you for putting all the stress on him?”

  “Me?” replied Connie.

  “You are pretty blunt sometimes,” noted Jack. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they send you for sensitivity training.”

  “Sensitivity training! You bastard,” growled Connie. “What the hell did you say to that guy? I saw him shaking your hands out there. Christ, he even thinks you’re his friends,” she added, shaking her head.

  “I said he was naive,” Jack said, smiling.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Roger moved some items aside on Connie’s desk and took out large sheets of paper from his briefcase and unfolded them. They were similar in size to what blueprints for a building would be, but in this case, they were blueprints to several interconnecting Chinese criminal organizations headed by Benny Wong CC-1.

  In the centre of the first sheet of paper was Wong’s name in a circle within overlapping rectangular boxes containing the names of companies and businesses he owned. Lines went out from there like spokes on a wheel, connecting to circles containing people’s names or boxes that identified companies who were associated either directly or indirectly to Wong. It included associate Chinese criminal organizations as well as non-Asian criminal groups. Jack observed one line that went to the Vietnamese, identifying Dong Tran VC-1, which then had a line going from him to a circle labelled Satans Wrath. Jack knew that each of the individual groups would have their own link-charts.

  The Chinese criminal link-chart expanded exponentially by aligning other sheets of paper up with each other like a huge map, with an increasing web of lines showing more criminal connections to the people who were under Wong, as well as those who were indirectly connected to him through others. Analytical Services usually prepared these link-charts so that investigators could see at a glance what would be next to impossible to remember if it were simply detailed in writing.

  Jack stabbed his finger at Wong’s name. “I think we can agree that with three murders happening within five days of my report being released, that he is either responsible or knows who is responsible for ordering the hit-and-run murder of Betty Donahue.”

  “With the latter three murders being the result of a report that I am certain was leaked out of my office,” Roger added, glumly.

  “We need to identify the traitor,” said Jack, tersely. “Whoever you used from Analytical Services did a fantastic job, however, could it be someone from there that is leaking the information?”

  “I didn’t use Analytical Services,” replied Roger.

  “You’re kidding?” said Jack in surprise. “These are the best link-charts I’ve ever seen.”

  “We’ve got a member who has a problem with a disintegrating disc in her lower back,” confided Roger. “We are trying to keep her on the payroll for as long as possible. For the last year and a half we’ve been letting her work from home by correlating all our reports and making link-charts.”

  “Year and a half,” noted Jack, “and you think the leak started —”

  “Roughly six months ago,” said Roger. “Mind you, that is when we thought we had an opportunity to target Wong and the fellows directly under him. Still … I’m sure it’s not Jo.”

  “Joe?” questioned Connie. “I thought you said it was a her?”

  “Her name is Josephine Bagley. I see her often. She lives alone with two cats.”

  “What about —” Laura started to ask.

  “No boyfriends or anyone coming and going,” said Roger, beating her to her question. “Even if there were, most of the reports are computerized and she doesn’t print them out. The only paper is her charts, which show the links, but doesn’t give the actual details of the association.”

  “What about janitorial services in your office?” asked Jack. “Any changes there?”

  “Same people we have had for years,” replied Roger. “They are only allowed in when we are there, so it’s not like they could go snooping.”

  Jack’s eyes drifted back to the link-chart. “We need a source close to Wong. Then you could feed false info to a few select people and see what we hear back.”

  “We’ve tried to get a source for years,” sighed Roger. “We have very few Chinese informants at all, other than low-level punks and a few straight citizens who tell us stuff. Even they tend to use Crime Stoppers to protect their identity.”

  “So why would someone like Wong, basically the godfather of Chinese crime in Vancouver, have Betty Donahue murdered, plus contract it out to the Vietnamese?” asked Connie. “If that is what happened,” she added, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest. “Especially if it was over Mia Parker being stuck with a simple possession beef.”

  “That has been driving me nuts, too,” replied Roger.

  “You’ve checked out her mother?” asked Jack.

  “Yes,” replied Connie. “She is Chinese. Her Canadian name is Jia-li Parker, but her maiden name is Chao. Her husband, Brent Parker, worked for a computer company in Beijing. They married there and moved to Vancouver about thirty years ago. Brent was killed in a hit-and-run accident when Mia was only three years old.”

  “Another hit and run,” mused Jack. “I recall you mentioning it before. The case wasn’t solved?”

  Connie shook her head. “No, it is still an open file. It happened twenty-five years ago. He was killed in a crosswalk. I hauled out the file to look at it. They had a partial photograph from a gas-station camera. It showed someone speeding past in the car, but the picture was blurry and only showed a profile of the driver. It was also dusk and raining. An investigator was able to enhance the photograph about five years ago using new technology. It was then put through the computer to see if we could do a facial recognition with driver’s-licence photographs, but nothing came up.”

  “Out of curiosity,
could you tell if the suspect was Asian?” asked Jack.

  “Could have been. Had dark hair, but it was only a profile and you couldn’t see the eyes. The only thing that stood out were what looked like three small moles in a line along his lower left jaw.”

  “I’ve also checked out Jia-li with the information Connie gave me,” said Roger. “There are no connections with her or Mia to any of the gangs, Chinese or Vietnamese. Jia-li is a freelance journalist and has done articles on a wide range of subjects, but generally avoids the crime beat and has no known association with any of the bad boys we work on. Certainly nothing that would raise any flags.”

  “Maybe Mia doesn’t have anything to do with this,” said Connie.

  “If she is convicted she will receive a criminal record,” noted Jack.

  “Yeah, but for possession?” questioned Connie.

  “It would be enough to have her barred from entering the U.S.,” replied Jack. “Didn’t you tell me that she had a degree in psychology and is currently taking political science?”

  Connie nodded.

  “A criminal record wouldn’t be a good thing to have if she was wanting to run for office,” said Jack, “let alone trying to enter the States.”

  “Say you’re right,” interjected Roger. “And I could see that being a good theory if she was Wong’s mistress or something … but we would know if she was. There has never been any connection between her and any criminal that we can find.”

  “And living in a basement suite doesn’t give the impression she could hire someone to do the hit,” added Connie. “At least not at Wong’s calibre or have this many players involved.”

  “Someone supplied her with cocaine and ecstasy,” noted Jack.

  “Yeah, but how hard is it to obtain that stuff at university?” noted Roger. “Lots of so-called straight kids do dope once in awhile.”

  “And they don’t have people murdered over it,” added Connie.

  “That’s another thing,” said Roger, looking at Jack. “If your premise is correct, why would Wong contract it out to the Vietnamese? The Chinese have no qualms about murdering people themselves. You work organized crime … answer me that.”

  “I don’t know,” replied Jack. “It could have been done to hide their involvement if the police did find out who actually drove over Betty Donahue. That would also explain murdering the three I named in my report to sever any connection.”

  “But like I said, they have no qualms about murdering people themselves,” said Roger. “If we can’t prove it, they don’t really give a damn if we know. Whatever they are trying to hide would have to be something more sinister than murder.”

  “Maybe it is to them,” said Jack.

  “What could be worse than murder?” noted Connie. “That’s tops on my list.”

  “Money,” replied Jack. “It’s what bad guys murder people for. Maybe they’re trying to protect some financial scam that involves Mia Parker.”

  “Maybe, but she sure hasn’t come up on our radar,” said Roger.

  “In a nutshell, what can you tell us about Wong?” asked Jack. “All I really know is he is sixty-seven years old and owns a shipping company and deals in a lot of commercial property.”

  “Yeah, hang on.” Roger dug into his briefcase and tossed some surveillance photographs on the desk. “You can have these. The first one is Wong, along with his wife. They have been married forever. They have one son who is forty years old and lives in Beijing, where the head office for his shipping company is. Wong appears to have left the day-to-day operation of that for his son to look after and spends most of his time socializing in the community or checking out his commercial properties. It should be noted that a lot of the massage parlours in town owned by the triads are located in rental property owned by Wong.”

  Jack looked at the photograph and saw that Wong had a round face and little hair. His skin was mottled with liver spots.

  “He’s not smiling in that photo, but he has a few gold teeth in his mouth,” noted Roger. He is also tiny by stature, so he got to where he is by using his brains and not brawn. Comes across as polite … well-mannered with the police, but make no mistake, he is dangerous and could have you killed with a snap of his fingers.”

  “Dangerous fingers. I’ll keep that in mind,” replied Jack.

  Roger paused, looked at Jack and said, “The Chinese fear him for good reason, so don’t ever say I didn’t warn you.”

  Jack nodded. “What about the people close to him? Any that might be disgruntled or want to do a coup and take over?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. His henchmen are loyal. No doubt he has enemies because he walks around with at least two bodyguards. There is nobody close to him that we know who would be willing to talk. He is also generous with charities and community fundraisers, so many citizens think he is a nice guy.” Roger dug out two more photographs and put them on the table. They were of Chinese men who were in their early thirties with short black hair and both were heavyset and muscular. “These are two bodyguards who live with him,” said Roger.

  Jack turned the pictures over and saw the names on the back were Zhang Wei and Shen Xiao.

  “Zhang Wei appears to have had proper VIP security training,” said Roger. “He knows what he is doing and runs the show in that department.”

  “Where does Benny Wong live?” asked Laura.

  “In Point Grey, about a block and a half from the Royal Vancouver Yacht Club.”

  “Expensive neighbourhood,” Jack remarked.

  “You might say that. His house is worth over six mil.’ It’s on the waterfront facing English Bay. I think the only people living there are he and his wife, two bodyguards, and a couple of older woman who do the housekeeping and cooking.”

  “Cars?” asked Jack.

  “He has a couple of vehicles, but I’ve only seen him being driven around in a silver Lexus LS 460. He also owns a black SUV, but I think his bodyguards use it when they need to.”

  “Six-million-dollar home,” mused Jack. “Not bad. Guess renting property to the massage parlours is the way to go. I’m sure he gets a kick-back from the prostitution.”

  “He never works out of an office or anything,” said Roger. “I’ve had the taxman take a run at him several times, but nothing ever comes out of it. Most of his money comes out of, or goes through China and on paper is either connected to his rental property or connected with the shipping industry.”

  “At least one set of books would say that,” replied Jack. “Would love to see what the other set would say. The shipping industry will be his most profitable. Explains how the Chinese are bringing dope and guns into Vancouver.”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” said Roger. “In exchange for B.C. bud. Likely smuggling people as well, but knowing, finding, and proving are a different matter. Six months ago we were set to bust a container of coke scheduled to arrive on one of Wong’s ships out of San Francisco, but at the last moment, the container was never placed on the ship.”

  “Was the DEA involved?”

  “No, we kept it to ourselves. That was when I first suspected someone was tipping them off.”

  “So what do we do?” asked Connie.

  Jack glanced at his watch. “It’s Friday and I suspect the end of the day for you two. How about Laura and I take a look at Wong over the weekend and see what we come up with, then meet again Monday? That’ll give us time to check him out and read everything available on him before planning a course of action.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Roger. “You can keep all the stuff I brought with me. Also got a bunch of reports for you,” he added, passing Jack a computer memory stick.

  Connie nodded in agreement, but stared quietly at Jack. Brought you in to assist on one murder less than three weeks ago and now we have four murders. What the hell are you really going to do this weekend? … I should probably tell the coroner to pack extra bags …

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What now?” asked Laura, as they w
alked out of Connie’s office.

  “Drop what Roger gave us at our office, then let’s see what a Chinese godfather does to entertain himself on a Friday night,” replied Jack.

  At five o’clock, Jack and Laura sat in different vehicles on opposite sides of Wong’s house on side streets facing Point Grey Road. Jack was to the east and Laura to the west. To park any closer could draw suspicion, but if Wong were to leave his house, his route would take him past one of them. The side streets they were on were also busy enough that Jack was confident they could blend in to their locations without being noticed.

  It was seven o’clock when Laura thumbed her police radio. “Heads up. Got a silver Lexus coming off Point Grey southbound on Alma Street. Two figures in the front and someone in the back. Too dark to see if it is our main guy. Stand by … will be going right past me … okay, got a visual on the bodyguard, Shen Xiao, in the front passenger seat.”

  “Copy that,” replied Jack. “Zhang is likely driving, which means T-1 should be in the back. I’ll head south and parallel on Collingwood.”

  Moments later, Laura radioed again. “Okay, I’ve picked up two cars for cover. He has his left indicator on. Going to be heading east on West 4th Avenue.”

  “Copy. They should be coming straight at me.”

  “Visual contact broken,” radioed Laura. “Stuck in traffic. Might take a sec’ to catch up.”

  “Don’t worry,” replied Jack. “We’re no longer VCB. I’ve got the eye and we’re continuing eastbound on 4th.”

  Fourth Avenue was a main artery and the traffic was heavy. Despite this, once Laura caught up, Jack still ensured that they took turns moving up or falling back in traffic so that the same vehicle would not be behind Wong for too long.

  “He’s committed to the Granville Street Bridge,” reported Laura. “Looks like we’re going downtown.”

  Minutes later, Jack reported, “Okay, they’re looking for a place to park. Around one-fifty East Pender. Practically in the heart of Chinatown. Suggest we do the same.”