by Rhys Ford
It was a life filled with senseless noise. Especially since neither of them had anything on Namor.
“Good, when she gets back to work, I’ll help her.” He nudged me again, this time with his elbow since I was sitting in the chair next to him. “Plates came back on that car at the storage place.”
“Shit, I forgot all about that.” I had. It was on my master note list to follow up, but after yesterday, it’d jumped way down in priority. “Anyone we know?”
“Yep, registered to one Crisanto Songcuya Seong. And man, I probably just fucked that name up.”
“Who the fuck is….” I stopped myself. “Seong? As in Scarlet’s Seong.”
“Actually, even closer.” Bobby grinned. “That is Scarlet. The car’s registered to her. I think it’s the car Seong’s boys use to drive her around. Hard to tell. There’s a fleet of them.”
“Why the hell would she have someone following us?” My brain already hurt from lack of sleep, no food, and too much coffee. “And not tell us about it?”
“Funny you should ask that, Princess,” Bobby answered. “Because that’s what I said when I called her this morning. Seems she told two of Seong’s boys to follow us out there to help with the excavation. You were hurt, and she didn’t want you to reinjure your precious little snowflake body. Maybe they decided to blow her off, or thought we were big and strong enough not to need their help, but that’s why they were sitting in the car. Avoiding work. She was pissed off when I told her they only followed us out there and sat.”
“She’ll tear them new assholes through their noses.” I was in awe of Scarlet’s temper. I’d been on the soft end of it once, and it wasn’t pleasant. Then something else hit me. “Shit, you don’t think Seong’s going to dump her, do you?”
“How the fuck did you get there?” Bobby nearly choked on his coffee. “The dude moved to fucking Los Angeles and gave up his family for her. You’ve seen them. They’re like Jessica and Roger Rabbit.”
“I know. It’s stupid,” I admitted. “Sometimes the people who work for those kinds of guys know about shit before anyone else does. I just wondered if they thought Scarlet’s on the way out, so fuck her, we don’t have to do what she wants. The boss’ll protect me.”
“Plausible.” He smacked the back of my head. “If it were anyone but Scarlet and Seong. Hell, I think Mary’d sooner divorce God than those two breaking it off. Don’t think stupid shit. Or better yet, don’t think at all. All you seem to come up with after crap happens is stupid shit. Give your head a break.”
“Stop hitting,” I mumbled, rubbing at the spot. It was like I was five and he wanted my lunch money. “Or I won’t tell you what the cops said.”
“So someone finally called you?”
“Yeah, Detective Dexter Wong.” I gave him a brief rundown about Wong dismissing Jae as a suspect. “He got with Brookes, who was there at the Kwons. They think Shin-Cho’s shooting and the one here are related to Helena’s murder. Bullets are the same type. He’s hoping ballistics can match them to the same gun.”
“Kind of hope it does.” Bobby nodded. “That explains the gouging in that post there. Did the lab do that? Looks like beavers got at it.”
“Yeah, I’m debating replacing it or using wood putty. Haven’t decided yet.” I straddled the chair’s sloping leg rest. “Hey, did someone get a hold of Rocket? I mean, about Trey? I realized this morning I’ve been so fucking focused on Claudia, I haven’t even thought about Trey’s family or someone telling Rocket.”
“Dude, Trey’s family is Rocket. They’re first cousins.” Bobby noticed my shudder. “Totally legal in California. And yeah, I called him after the cops did. Kid’s a tweak, but even they have feelings.”
“He doing okay?”
“Yeah, sounded like it,” he said. “He’s Trey’s only living relative. Looks like he’ll inherit everything, including the sex shop. He didn’t seem too broken up about Trey. Mumbled something about living by the dick, and dying by the dick. I think he thought Trey was shot by the cops.”
“I’d say that’s cold, but I’ve met Rocket.” I whistled. “That’s probably the deepest thought he’s ever had.”
No one could blame us for flinching when a black sedan pulled up and parked in front of the building. Bobby and I both glanced at each other, slightly shamefaced, but there was a silent code of forgiveness for our jumpiness. The shame factor for Bobby went up when a short Korean man in a suit got out to open the door for the delicate older woman sitting in the back.
Dressed in a high-end pencil skirt and blouse, Seong Ryeowon looked like she’d been born with pearls pouring from her mouth. Even under the bright California sun, her skin shone flawlessly and was as smooth as porcelain. Her driver, standard Seong-issue, remained by the car, and her mile-high stilettos made tick-tick noises on the cement.
I’d been on the wrong end of little old ladies before. As far as I was concerned, the most dangerous fucking thing in the neighborhood right now was the elegant, thin-faced woman heading up my walk.
“That’s Shin-Cho’s mom. We saw her at the hospital, remember?” I muttered to Bobby. Standing up, I brushed what I could off my jeans and met her at the steps. The biggest problem with Korean names was I didn’t know how to address a married woman. I went with what I hoped was right. “Madam Seong.”
“Mr. McGinnis.” There was no mistaking her for anyone other than Seong’s sister. She carried herself with her chin up, a firm mouth, and an expression on her face that said she expected me to curtsey. She glanced over at Bobby and dismissed him with an icy smile. Her accent was much stronger than her brother’s or Jae’s, but Seong Ryeowon spoke confidently and clearly. “May I speak with you in private?”
I held the door to the office open for her and wiggled my eyebrows at Bobby. He snorted and went back to sipping his coffee and silently disparaging the young men across the street. Leading Ryeowon to my little-used meeting room, I offered her tea or coffee, but she shook her head and made herself comfortable in one of the large leather chairs.
The room was originally a formal dining room, but when I converted the house, I instead set it up for private meetings. With only a loose collection of brass-tacked leather chairs and a large rectangular coffee table in the room, I’d hoped to convey a more intimate environment. Bobby said it looked like a Victorian gentleman’s club, and all it was missing was an old English explorer with an enormous white mustache and pith helmet snoring in the corner.
“Thank you for seeing me,” she said, squaring her shoulders.
Up close, I could see Shin-Cho in her features. He had a more fine-boned look than his brother, and Ryeowon definitely played that up. I wanted to condemn her for how she treated her eldest son, but the truth was, she’d been there when he went down. As angry as she was at her brother’s choices and lover, she was there for her sons.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything? Water, perhaps?” Jae must have been rubbing off on me, because I was uncomfortable not bringing her anything.
She studied me with a tilt of her head, then said, “No, no. I’m fine. Thank you.”
“What can I do for you?” I’d left my coffee outside with Bobby, and I felt naked with nothing for my hands to do. Clasping them in front of me, I leaned forward in my chair. “If it’s about Park Dae-Hoon, I’m afraid that information is confidential unless your son gives me permission to share it with you.”
From how I spoke, someone would think I had tons of information and was moments away from pulling the mask off some geezer and proclaiming him the villain. Truth was, we still had to track down a couple of men on the list of Dae-Hoon’s victims in the hopes they were still in America.
“That is fine. I am not here about Park Dae-Hoon,” Ryeowon said. Her hands were busy, a nervous busy as she adjusted her watch then tugged at the cuff of her sleeve. “My son, David, told me to come talk to you about something that happened before we left Seoul. He thinks it is important, because it might involve Shin-Cho.”
I’d brought a notebook and pen with me in case I needed to take notes. Flipping the tablet open, I nodded. “Okay, what would you like to tell me?”
Ryeowon cocked her head and peered at me down her nose. “How much do you know of the chaebol families?”
“My… Korean friends have told me a bit,” I replied cautiously. There was a very thick line I couldn’t cross: sharing my relationship with Jae. “Your brother, Seong hyung, is from a chaebol family, and a lot of South Korean companies are run by them.”
“We are South Korea,” Ryeowon stated. “What our families produce, how we behave, any scandals that we are involved in… all of these things are scrutinized and gone over. The chaebol are held to a higher standard, because we are the face of South Korea. Every day for us means a delicate balance of behavior. We cannot allow ourselves to be seen as….”
“Less than perfect?” I supplied.
“Yes. We are the perfect South Koreans, yes.” She started to shift in her seat, then corrected herself. The nervousness was gone, replaced by an imperious reserve. I murmured some sound she took for assent, and she continued. “My son Shin-Cho has always had difficulties meeting the demands of the family. He was always close to his father, and when Dae-Hoon chose to… leave us, Shin-Cho was devastated. David was younger, and not as under the influence of Park Dae-Hoon. It was easier for him to adjust to having another man as his hyung. My older brothers provided that for him, but Shin-Cho… rebelled.”
“Rebelled how?” From what she was describing, it sounded like a boot camp more than a childhood.
“He had difficulties making friends with other boys from chaebol families. Instead, Shin-Cho would go out of his way to avoid playmates, even at school. It was not because he was being selective. That at least would be a saving grace,” she murmured. “Instead, he would not come home after his studies, and he roamed areas he shouldn’t have been in. I cannot tell you how many times we had to send security out to find him. When he graduated, it became even worse. Sometimes he would not come home for days, and he refused to attend the university we arranged for him.”
“I’m not sure how this connects to what’s happening now,” I admitted.
“I will get there,” Ryeowon assured me. “There were rumors about Shin-Cho, nasty rumors of what he was doing in those places. I knew then I should have been harsher with him when he was younger. He looked up to his father. I did not do enough to stop him from following in his father’s footsteps.”
The expression on her face was the same look of disgust she’d gotten when Scarlet walked into the waiting room. It was hard not to react, especially when her lips curled with a sour revulsion.
“One night, two of our security men went out looking for him and found him with another man. He’d been… hurt. Shin-Cho’s sins finally caught up with him. Our men brought him home, and I sent money to that man, so he would keep quiet about what he did to Shin-Cho, but it was already too late to stop the whispering.” She sighed, playing with a ring on her finger.
“Hurt how?” I didn’t like the sound of what she was saying. I liked it even less when she shrugged off Shin-Cho’s trauma with a tiny quiver of her shoulders. “How bad?”
“He needed… time. We found him a retreat he could stay at until he felt better, but the damage was already done to the family. There was no way we could hide what he’d done. There were too many people talking about what might have happened.” Another reproachful sigh, and my stomach gurgled from too much coffee and the acid burning up from my guts. “Our family’d already dealt with the scandal from Park Dae-Hoon. We couldn’t have another incident, so our oldest brother, Min-Wu, arranged for Shin-Cho to enter the military. We thought that he would benefit from the structure, help him overcome his obsession with his father’s ways.”
I had never wanted to shake someone as badly as I did Seong Ryeowon. It burned in me, a bright want to wrap my hands around her shoulders and rock her until her head snapped off and rolled under the coffee table. Instead, I concentrated on gouging my pen into the notebook and reminding myself this was what faced Jae if ever his family found out about him. It was a sobering thought.
“Wait, he didn’t stay in the military, right?” I looked up. “He left before his time was up?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” Ryeowon said. “We’d enlisted Shin-Cho to get him away from the scandal. Our purpose was, when he came back from the military, he could enroll in a university and then work in the company. He was doing well then he was transferred to Choi Yong-Kun’s command.”
“I know he’d been found in a compromising situation,” I hedged in. “Was it with this Choi Yong-Kun?”
“No, Choi Yong-Kun was his officer,” she said tightly. “His other command was more thoughtful to what the family needed. I hold Choi Yong-Kun responsible for Shin-Cho’s involvement with Li Mun-Hee. That man was known to have perversions. He’d been moved from four commands before serving under Choi Yong-Kun. Choi Yong-Kun neglected to protect my son from Li Mun-Hee. I blame him for Shin-Cho’s dismissal.”
I was going to piss her off. I knew it before I said what was on my mind, but I tried to be as delicate as I could. “Don’t you think Shin-Cho knew what he was doing?”
“How could he?” Ryeowon asked, her eyes round with shock. “Shin-Cho was to be given time to right himself, and Choi Yong-Kun deliberately refused to help someone he was responsible for. Yong-Kun knew Shin-Cho was susceptible. My son is not gay, Mr. McGinnis. He needs time to see that. I need my family to understand that. Instead, my brother sends him here… to Min-Ho.”
I’d thought I’d reached the bottom of her loathing barrel, but apparently I was wrong. She put a dose of venom on Seong’s name that could have stopped a herd of elephants.
“Okay, but what does Choi Yong-Kun have to do with this now?” I asked. “Has he threatened him in some way? Demanded money to keep quiet?”
“He has disappeared,” she responded curtly. “Along with Li Mun-Hee. Both of them… gone.”
“So it was a plot to sabotage Shin-Cho’s reputation?” My notes were beginning to look like a Venn diagram explosion. “Did they purposely set things up so Shin-Cho would be compromised, and then ask for money?”
Compromised. Like he was a heroine from one of the old romance novels from the fifties.
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past Li Mun-Hee,” Ryeowon sniffed. “He came looking for Shin-Cho. To our house. As if he had a claim to my son. My brother chased him off and told him never to come back.”
“Did your brother tell him Shin-Cho was in LA?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t listening,” she admitted. “I was upset. David was getting married, and the Kwon family already was wary of the match because of Dae-Hoon. Shin-Cho’s behavior nearly broke the engagement. We agreed that Shin-Cho would not be there, for appearance’s sake, but David refused to honor the agreement between our families. It was very unsettling.”
“How did Helena feel about Shin-Cho’s involvement in the wedding?”
Ryeowon looked at me like I’d grabbed her for a romp on the coffee table. “What would she say? It was David’s decision.”
Not sure if she meant it as a the wife has no say over the husband’s declarations thing, or if it didn’t concern Helena because it wasn’t her family’s issue. Either way, I was already treading on thin ice with Ryeowon. I’d pushed her buttons as little as possible, but it was obvious we didn’t agree about Shin-Cho’s miraculous healing from being gay ever happening. I wasn’t going to throw kerosene on the fire by bringing women’s rights into the mix.
“How did you find out they, Choi and Li, were missing?” I couldn’t imagine a suicide pact, especially not one involving Shin-Cho. For one thing, Choi was the one who outed the other two. Unless they’d set it up to extort money from the Seongs, he’d gained nothing. If anything, he ended up paying the price for pissing off a pretty powerful family.
“The police came to our house. One of them knew of Shin-Cho’s… re
lationship with Mun-Hee. A neighbor heard a loud fight at Mun-Hee’s apartment and called the authorities. When no one came to the door, the police went in and found blood on the floor,” Ryeowon replied. “Choi Yoon-Kun’s brother said he’d gone to confront Mun-Hee over something. When the police went to Yoon-Kun’s home, he wasn’t there, and it looked as if he’d packed to leave.”
“Did you tell the American cops this?” I sat back, exhaling hard. “Has someone checked to see if Yoon-Kun’s left South Korea? Did he have a passport?”
“I don’t know. There are ways for people to leave without being tracked. He could have done it,” she admitted slowly. “I didn’t think Yoon-Kun would come here to hurt Shin-Cho. He is the one who failed Shin-Cho, not the other way around.”
I wasn’t sure how to handle the conflict inside of me. There was no religious fervor or gleam in her eyes. Seong Ryeowon truly believed her son could be cured of his homosexuality and that she’d failed him by allowing him to continue to think fondly of his father. I wanted to hate Ryeowon, or pity her.
I just didn’t know how.
“Okay, let me see if we can’t track down someone who can check on Yoon-Kun,” I said. “But you should talk to the police. There’s a Detective Wong on the case. He’s probably a good place to start.”
“Wong?” She sounded thoughtful. “He is Chinese?”
“Yeah.” Jae’d told me a lot of Koreans had issues with the Japanese, for one reason or another. I wasn’t sure how they felt about their neighbors from China. “Does that matter?”
“No, no, that is fine.” She dismissed my caution with a wave of her hand. Ryeowon stood, then paused at the meeting room door. “May I ask you one thing, Mr. McGinnis?”
“Sure,” I replied, picking up my notes and pen.