The Benefactor

by Don Easton

  Laura checked her watch as she parked. It had been less than fifteen minutes since Wong had left his house. She used her radio again. “Want to get together and look like a couple? It’s crowded. Bet we could tag along close enough to listen.”

  “Not a bad idea, except we don’t speak Chinese,” replied Jack. “Nix that idea in case we need to split up. I don’t want to take a chance on heating them up. I’m more curious to identify who he meets and who his friends are.”

  “Copy that. I’m out on foot.”

  “Likewise,” said Jack, sticking a wireless earpiece into his ear. He thumbed a small microphone hidden in his hand and said, “Radio check. Copy?”

  “Copy,” replied Laura.

  “Likewise,” said Jack. “They’re out of the vehicle. T-1 has his wife with him.”

  “Guess she was too short for me to see,” replied Laura.

  “They’re both short,” replied Jack. “Especially with the two panda bears they have protecting them.”

  “I thought Chinese people were short.”

  “Someone forgot to tell Zhang and Shen that,” replied Jack. “Those two make me look small. Okay, they’re all walking eastbound down the north side of the street. You cover them from behind and I’ll take the opposite side.”

  The entourage they were following took their time and Jack watched as Wong used an ATM machine while Wei and Xiao dutifully watched people passing by. Jack and Laura also browsed, looking in store windows. A few minutes later the entourage continued to stroll down the street.

  Eventually the group turned into an alley on the north side of the street and Jack knew he had to cross over. “Time to be a couple,” radioed Jack.

  Although the street was busy, Jack and Laura still made a short pretext of meeting each other and giving a quick hug before walking hand-in-hand toward the alley. When they entered, they saw that it was a short alley and only caught a glimpse of Shen, Wong, and his wife turning a corner at the far end.

  Jack and Laura quickened their pace to catch up as Jack reflected upon what he had seen. Where is Zhang? Perhaps a few steps ahead of Wong and had already turned the corner?

  They hurried past a parked delivery truck and were nearing the end of the alley when two Asian men appeared from around the corner, coming toward them. Both men were in their thirties and maintained direct eye contact with Jack and Laura, before stopping abruptly in front of them.

  One man, who sported a ponytail, held a newspaper over his hand, which he raised and pointed at Jack. The other man, who had sideburns down to his lower jaw line, did likewise with Laura. The newspapers hid what they were holding, but there was little doubt in Jack’s minds as to what was being pointed at them. He only didn’t know the calibre or if they contained silencers.

  Before Jack could respond, someone grabbed his arm from behind. His question of where Zhang was had been answered.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mia Parker excused herself from the man who was trying to impress her with stories of his athletic prowess on the football field and got off the sofa and went to the kitchen to pour herself another glass of Chardonnay.

  The party at the Rolstads was only getting started, with about a dozen people in attendance and another dozen expected to arrive. Mia stared at the wine swilling into her glass as she poured and thought about her targets. Julia Rolstad had been smoking B.C. bud most of the afternoon. Coupled with the wine she was drinking, Mia knew Julia was feeling the effects before the party began. Tonight will be the night.

  By the curious and lingering look that Max Rolstad had given her from across the room moments before, she knew that Julia had said something to him. What an idiot. You would think he would be a little suspicious …

  Mia placed the bottle down and turned with the glass in her hand and saw Max approach. He had a goofy grin on his face to hide his embarrassment and she gave him a friendly smile.

  “Hey you,” he said, lowering his voice while wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side. “What’s this you were telling Julia about giving us some hands-on tips to rekindle our love life.”

  “Oh, simply a few things I learned when I worked at a psychologist’s office while taking my master’s,” Mia said with a shrug.

  “But ‘hands-on,’ you said? A little ménage à trois?”

  Mia giggled and playfully pushed Max back. “Not exactly, but I consider you both my friends, which is why I am willing to bend the rules. The physical and sensual stimulation techniques I would employ would be far more therapeutic than simply talking about them. I am willing to assist each of you to rekindle the fire, but leave before things get too hot.” Mia paused, then gripped Max’s hand and earnestly added, “Believe me, even that would have to stay between the three of us. I’d be mortified if anyone found out.”

  “I see,” replied Max. His face blushed and he dropped the charade of making fun of the offer and pulled his hand away. “Actually, uh, I appreciate that you are trying to help us, but I find it a rather personal issue. I’m embarrassed that Julia told you about our, uh, problems. I think it is simply stress-related. We need some time to relax, but that has been hard to do lately, what with flying back and forth to Ottawa.”

  “Oh, please,” said Mia, reaching out as if she was not conscious that she was using her fingertips to gently stroke up and down his index finger. “I really like … and trust the both of you. Don’t be upset with Julia. She feels abandoned and needed someone to turn to. I let her know that I am available and have worked in couples’ therapy. I think she was afraid you wouldn’t go along with it.”

  “She’s willing? I wasn’t sure when she told me. I thought she had some doubts.”

  “She loves you and will say whatever she thinks will please you. Personally I don’t see what it would hurt to try. It would only be a one-time session.” Mia studied Max’s face for a response. She had used the same lines on Julia, but there was no indication that he knew.

  “I’ll need to think about it,” said Max.

  Mia let go of his hand. “By all means. Rome wasn’t built in a night. You both need to be comfortable. It is intended as a fun, erotic adventure. You have to be in the right mindset.”

  Max nodded. “You know, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try. Guess if I feel uncomfortable, we could always stop.”

  “Exactly,” replied Mia, giving a fake smile. Believe me, once I get started, you won’t stop until that little brain between your legs is totally spent …

  The doorbell rang and the conversation came to an end when Max went to answer.

  Mia caught a glimpse of the taxi limousine driving away, but it was the passenger who had been dropped off that caught her attention. From photographs she had studied, she recognized him as an important client of Max’s company.

  Mia searched her memory for what she knew of him. Sterling Wolfenden. Married … one … no, two children … once suspected of having an affair with a young woman on staff who abruptly left the company later….

  Mia judged him to be in his late forties. His hair was black with contrasting grey over the ears. Portly, with chubby fingers, one of which was adorned with a gold wedding ring. She sucked in her breath at the thought that one of the benefactor’s most valued targets was standing in front of her.

  She heard Wolfenden tell Max that he could only stay for a couple of hours. She knew she would have to work fast.

  Mia smiled and walked over for an introduction.

  “Hi, Mia,” said Max. “We have an important guest. Seeing as you are taking political science, you may be interested to know that this —”

  “Is Mr. Sterling Wolfenden,” said Mia, extending her hand. “Member of Parliament and someone I have been personally admiring for a long time,” she added, pursing her lips and glancing down as though blushing.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jack saw Laura’s eyes flash at him for an indication of what action to take. He gave a subtle shake of his head, telling her not to reach for her
gun. There is no reason for these guys to be doing a hit on us … and by Zhang grabbing my arm, he is potentially putting himself in the line of fire …

  “I strongly suggest you take your hand off my arm,” said Jack menacingly, staring straight into Zhang’s face.

  “If you are police officers, do not be alarmed,” replied Zhang politely, while maintaining his grip. “If you are not police officers, I have some questions as to why you are following Mr. and Mrs. Wong.”

  “We are both RCMP officers,” replied Jack. “My identification is in my back pants pocket, below my sidearm.”

  “Would you mind if I removed it to take a look?” asked Zhang. His face was blank, hiding any emotion or indication of his thoughts.

  “You may remove my identification,” replied Jack, “but if you touch my weapon, there will be a problem.”

  “As I would expect,” replied Zhang. With his other hand he retrieved the leather wallet containing Jack’s badge and identification card and flipped it open. He nodded, but appeared to study the identification card carefully before handing it back and letting go of Jack’s arm.

  Jack cast a glance behind him as he shoved his identification back in his pocket and realized the delay was to allow the two men who had been holding the newspapers to disappear.

  “My apologies,” said Zhang. “You must be new to AOCTF. I don’t recognize your faces.”

  “You may want to remember us,” replied Jack, “because if you grab me like that again, my response won’t be so congenial.”

  Zhang gave an exaggerated smile, indicating he would look forward to such an altercation. He then dropped the smile and said, “Would you care to search me?”

  “Not now,” replied Jack. “I’ll wait until the time is right.”

  Zhang frowned in response, then said, “Mr. Wong would like to speak to you on the phone. Would you mind?”

  Jack shrugged. “Give me his number, I’ll call him.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you already have his number,” replied Zhang, taking out his own cellphone. “But I have him on speed dial.” Zhang spoke rapidly on the phone in Chinese before handing it to Jack.

  Jack looked at Wong’s face on the iPhone and saw that he was being regarded with disdain as Wong spoke. “Hello, Detective Taggart. This is Mr. Wong. My apologies for the intrusion.”

  “For your information, I’m with the RCMP,” replied Jack. “We don’t have a detective rank. We simply refer to it as being on plain clothes. I’m a corporal, but if we are going to be civilized, please, call me Jack. Is that okay with you, Benny?”

  The delay in response told Jack that Wong wasn’t happy with being called by his first name. Eventually he responded, “You must appreciate that one must be careful these days during these hard economic times. There are many desperate people who would not hesitate to rob or kill someone for a few dollars.”

  “Benny, Benny, Benny,” replied Jack in admonishment. “If we are going to get to know each other … and believe me, we will, let’s not start off our relationship by lying to each other. Would you have me believe that you thought we were common criminals out to mug you? You and I both know that isn’t true.”

  Another moment of silence followed before Wong replied, “So what is your reason for following me? Do you really expect to catch me running down an alley with a suitcase full of opium and a hookah pipe?”

  “I was simply bored and became curious to see what rich people do on a Friday night,” replied Jack.

  “Tsk, tsk, Corporal Jack,” replied Wong. “What were you saying about being truthful?”

  Jack paused, hesitant as to what to say. He was angry with himself at being spotted doing surveillance, but more upset that Wong might clue in that they knew someone was leaking information from AOCTF and had linked him to Betty Donahue’s murder. He needed to convince him that there was another reason. Something Wong would believe. Jack glanced at Zhang. Why the bodyguards if he isn’t afraid of something …

  “Cat got your tongue?” asked Benny.

  “No,” replied Jack. “Actually I never see any cats in Chinatown … odd.”

  “Your humour is outdated and politically incorrect,” said Wong, abruptly.

  “Sorry. To the matter at hand, I do not wish to alarm you needlessly, but we have received information concerning your safety. It is not confirmed, but —”

  “Someone wishes me dead?” blurted Benny.

  “Possibly. All I can say is your name was passed on to us recently as a potential target. There is nothing concrete and it may simply be talk. I see no reason for you to be alarmed at the moment.”

  “There must be something, or you wouldn’t be following me,” replied Wong, sounding anxious. “Your information, did it come from China?”

  Jack hid his smile and decided to play along. “So you already know that the threat originates from there?”

  Wong’s sigh was audible. “No, but I have enemies there who are jealous of my success.”

  “Or perhaps upset with you over past, uh, business dealings,” suggested Jack.

  “Possibly,” admitted Wong. “So why follow me if there is no reason for alarm?”

  “It has been my experience that when dealing at, uh, this corporate level, that such an attack may originate from someone you trust. I was hoping to identify who you associate with and perhaps see if I can find a link to the person we know who might be doing the hit.”

  “I see,” replied Wong in a monotone voice that did not indicate if he believed Jack or not.

  “Perhaps I should have simply approached you, but was hesitant that you would supply me with such a list. Are you willing to do so?”

  “I’ll give it some thought,” replied Wong. “Perhaps if you were to tell me the name of the person you know, it would simplify the matter.”

  “So you could murder him? Sorry, Benny. No way.”

  “I see,” replied Wong, with a tinge of anger. “Of course your fears that I would do such a thing are totally unfounded. I am a legitimate businessman and would never stoop to such criminal behaviour.” He paused and when Jack remained silent, he continued. “I admit it is possible I may have some associates acquainted with the kind of people you are talking about. I will conduct my own inquiries before deciding whether or not to use your services.”

  “That is your own prerogative,” replied Jack. “The only thing is, inquiries you make could alert them to the fact that we know about it and jeopardize our source of information. They may seek out another hit-man whom we don’t know.”

  “I see,” replied Wong, his tone of voice indicating he believed Jack. “Let me think about it for a few days. As you can see from your own experience, my men are skilled at spotting anyone who is watching or following me.”

  “That they are,” admitted Jack, with a glance at Zhang. “Which brings me back to who can you really trust? Who, persuaded by a larger salary, may decide to switch sides?”

  “I trust my men. I do, however, thank you for your concern. I will ensure that extra precautions are extended to other people, such as parcel delivery … or perhaps even policemen … such as yourself … to ensure my safety.”

  “Policemen such as myself?” reiterated Jack.

  “You questioned the loyalty of the people who work for me. I can assure you they are well paid. Hardly the same can be said for people in your profession. Who knows what such underpaid people would do for an extra dollar or two.”

  This was not where Jack had wanted the conversation to go as he envisioned some poor postal worker being manhandled by Zhang or his fellow thugs. “I can assure you there is no immediate danger,” he replied. “I will be in a position to know if there is and would warn you immediately should that be necessary.”

  “Of course you would. Isn’t it obvious I have lots of faith in the police?” said Wong, contemptuously. “Do you plan on watching me all night?”

  “At the moment, I don’t know where you are,” replied Jack.

  “My wife and I are goin
g to a restaurant for dinner and then home. If you care to watch us, I will talk to the maître d’ and arrange a nearby table.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” replied Jack, feeling irritated at the game being played. “Perhaps some other time.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Mia smiled as she brought Wolfenden another beer. His eyes lingered on her cleavage as she leaned over to refill his glass. She was glad she had chosen not to wear a brassiere under the blue satin blouse she was wearing. When she sat on the sofa beside him, she adjusted her short white skirt as she crossed her long legs. A move that brought another furtive glance from Wolfenden.

  “Thanks,” he replied, picking up his glass. “As a gentlemen, I should have brought you a drink.”

  Mia shook her head and lowered her voice. “As you can probably tell by the smell from the back of the house, that is where the people go who want a taste of something a little stronger than alcohol. I didn’t think it would be prudent for you to get too close, given your position.”

  “Ah, good old B.C bud,” replied Wolfenden. “I do appreciate you looking after me in that regard.” He grinned and added, “Not that I have ever really inhaled.”

  “Ah, yes, the popular quote of Bill Clinton,” snickered Mia. “The one of his I like is, ‘Being president is like running a cemetery: you’ve got a lot of people under you and nobody’s listening.’”

  “I like that one too,” replied Wolfenden. “Sounds like you know your politics.”

  “Is that how you find things in politics?” asked Mia. Before Wolfenden could reply she said, “Naw, I bet people really do listen to you.”

  “I’m not the P.M.” chuckled Wolfenden.

  “Yet,” replied Mia, giving a friendly pat on his thigh while raising her glass in a toast.

  So far, their conversation had been relatively mundane, with him talking about his family and his children playing hockey, while Mia portrayed herself as an ambitious student who decided that psychology was boring and had opted for a future career in politics.