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The Color of Greed (Raja Williams 1)

Page 8

by Thompson, Jack


  “Thanks, Tommy. Have him call this number. ASAP.”

  “Always at your beck and call,” said Rafferty. Despite the sarcasm, he knew Raja was one of the good guys who produced results. “You find out anything on the judge?”

  “We should have more soon,” said Raja. “I’ll tell you all about it on the other side of this mess.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll call Matt right now. Just wait for help. The San Francisco Triad is not to be messed with, you hear me?”

  “I didn’t know you cared.”

  “I’m just looking out for that pretty partner of yours.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll wait for the call. Thanks, Tommy.”

  Chapter Thirteen: Doin’ the Triad Two-step

  The Chinese Triad was possibly the world’s oldest organized crime syndicate. They operated primarily out of Hong Kong, after the Communist takeover of mainland China in 1949. Being older made them neither better nor worse than other crime organizations, and they trafficked in the usual drugs, weapons, prostitution and gambling like all the rest. The Triad had nearly two million members worldwide including San Francisco.

  Matt Sampson had been working to bust the San Francisco Triad on human trafficking for years. They could sometimes find the sweat shops by tracking electric usage in the warehouses the Triad was known to use. However, when they busted a warehouse that usually only resulted in the deportation of the illegal adults, and a small fine on the company for hiring illegals. The victims would never talk. And the Triad would simply open another sweat shop somewhere else.

  The SFPD had made even less progress on the sex trade with kids. The one time they had gotten close, they found a half dozen young bodies in a dumpster, and all their leads evaporated.

  Therefore, when Lieutenant Sampson called Raja at the insistence of Detective Rafferty, he was frothing at the chance to get at the Triad, despite the distrust he had for private eyes.

  “Raja Williams?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Lieutenant Sampson, from the organized crime unit, SFPD. Tom Rafferty says you think you have a way to go after the Triad on human trafficking.” He paused, a bit conflicted.

  “I do.”

  “Well, I’m all ears. But, I have to tell you, it’s not going to be easy.” Sampson ran through the problems he had faced while trying to bust the Triad. He didn’t mention how little he liked or trusted private detectives, but Raja could feel the disdain.

  “I can give a statement on the boy’s location that should get you a warrant,” said Raja. “But, I need to locate the sweat shop where his parents work. Based on what you have experienced, we better squeeze them from both ends. Otherwise someone will end up dead.”

  The lieutenant began to warm up. Most PIs he knew were bulldog tenacious in pursuing leads, but cared little about the collateral damage they left in their wake. “I can locate the shop, but without probable cause, I doubt I can get a warrant.”

  “How about exigent circumstances. If you bust the sex trade location, everyone in that factory will be in immediate danger.”

  “That’s a stretch, but I know a judge who might buy it. Where is the boy?”

  “I’ll give you the location, with your promise you won’t go in until you can hit both sites simultaneously. I don’t want to get any of these people killed.”

  “I hear you. You have my word.”

  Raja gave him the address from the tracker he put on the boy.

  “Okay. Give me an hour.” Sampson ended the call.

  Vinny looked embarrassed. “Thanks, Raja,” she said. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. And I almost hit you.”

  “Hey, you do what you feel you have to. That’s why I love you. But, if you want to make amends, we still don’t know where the judge is. While we wait to hear from Lieutenant Sampson, maybe you could figure out how we can find him.”

  “As you wish,” said Vinny, back in good spirits.

  Raja looked around the drab room. “Meanwhile, let’s get out of this hellhole. It may take a while to get this operation organized. Let’s find a better place to stay.”

  Vinny located an upscale Ramada and they checked into a suite.

  More work on her iPad confirmed the judge had been in Chinatown recently. “I can’t say where the judge is now, but there is an eighty-six percent probability someone at Woo Fong’s will know where to find him.”

  “Vinny, I’ve been meaning to ask. How do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “The exact percentages and all.”

  “It’s quantum mechanics. It’s based on the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. Pretty simple, really.”

  “So you say. I’ll take your word for it.”

  “It predicts the probability of a particle, or in this case a person’s location.”

  “That’s not much better.”

  “We need to find out who knows what at Woo Fong’s.”

  “That I can understand,” said Raja.

  Raja’s cell phone rang. “Raja Williams,” he said.

  “It’s Lieutenant Sampson from the SFPD.”

  “Yes. How are we doing?”

  “Good news. We have the probable sweat shop location. I’ve got a surveillance team in place to confirm that now. The warrants are on the line as we speak. If all goes as planned we make simultaneous strikes tomorrow morning at ten.”

  “One more thing,” said Raja. “I think the money for the sex ring is being laundered through the Woo Fong Mandarin Restaurant. I expect you will find the Triad involved there, as well. Any chance you can have a team in place to raid the restaurant?”

  “I won’t have time for a warrant.”

  “That’s okay, you won’t need one. There will be plenty of exigent circumstances.”

  “I probably shouldn’t ask how you know that ahead of time. But, I can be there with a half-dozen men and a couple of squad cars at ten.”

  “If you don’t mind, Lieutenant, let’s meet a block north of Woo Fong’s at nine thirty. I’ll tell you what’s going to happen then.”

  “One block north of Woo Fong’s at nine thirty. Will that do?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’ll call you first thing when I get the green light.” The call ended.

  “What are you up to, Raj?” asked Vinny.

  “We are going to need some leverage to find out more on the judge. The SFPD will make a good crowbar. Right now, I’m going to need some sleep. You do whatever you do, and wake me by eight.”

  “I’ve got some leads to work on. See you in the morning, boss.”

  “Do you have to call me boss?”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist, bro.”

  Raja gave up. He went to bed and slept without dreaming. Making progress on a case was always a good sleeping potion, and helping innocent people was an even better one. He woke up fresh at eight on the nose.

  Vinny was already up and had breakfast from room service waiting for him. “You sure you want to do this?” she asked, as she watched Raja wolf down eggs and bacon.

  “If you’re asking am I sure what I am going to do, yes I am. If you’re asking am I sure I’ll get the outcome I want, the answer is no. But, that’s what makes life interesting, right?”

  “True dat, boss.”

  Raja and Vinny climbed out of the Ferrari on Jackson Street, one block north of Woo Fong’s. Lieutenant Sampson was already there.

  “We have SWAT ready for simultaneous assaults on both the sweat shop and the prostitution house. They move at ten sharp. Whatever you do here must not alert the Triad to that fact.”

  “No problem. We are going in first as civilians just before ten. Station your men near both ends of this alley. Keep them out of sight, but be close and be ready.”

  “For what?”

  “Chinese fireworks.”

  “What? I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  “Just be ready.”

  “It’s your funeral.”

  “I’m hoping not.”
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  Raja and Vinny walked up the alley that came out just beyond the entrance to Woo Fong’s. Raja checked his watch. It was exactly nine fifty. “Stay close,” he said, and the two walked into the restaurant.

  “Hello,” announced Raja, loudly. “My name is Raja Williams. This is my friend Vinny.”

  Vinny smiled and nodded.

  “We are trying to locate a judge named Griggsby. He comes here, so I know someone will recognize him. Here’s his picture.” Raja walked toward a group of staff gathering at the counter, watching them carefully. He held out the picture, noting their reactions. A man in a coat and tie hurried out from somewhere in the back.

  “What do you want?” he asked. There was panic in his voice.

  “I’m looking for Judge Griggsby,” said Raja loudly. “Vinny, show the manager a picture. You are the manager, right?”

  Vinny handed him a snapshot. Raja saw the flash of recognition on the manager’s face.

  “I’m afraid there is no one here by that name,” said the man curtly.

  “Surely someone here has seen him. He is a regular customer, I’m told.” Raja continued to observe each of them carefully. He had already noticed someone covertly making a call behind the counter.

  Raja checked his watch—two minutes after ten. He decided to escalate things. “You might as well tell me what you know. The police are on to this whole operation.”

  One of the workers rushed into the back.

  Raja called after him. “Hey, where are you going—too late to warn anyone. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised—” Raja stopped in mid-sentence.

  The restaurant staffers were all staring past Raja, faces gripped with fear.

  Raja turned and saw three men had entered the restaurant and were reaching under their jackets.

  “They’re not here for the lunch special. Let’s go, Vinny.” Raja grabbed her hand and dragged her through the door to the kitchen. “We’ve got to get out of this place.” They hurried past one cook frying a rice dish and another stirring a large pot toward the back.

  “Over there,” said Vinny, pointing to a green door on their left. It was the door Raja knew led to the alley, and he ran to it, Vinny in tow. The three men crashed into the kitchen, guns in hand. One of the cooks was so startled he dropped a pot of soup, and then slipped on the wet floor.

  Raja rattled the door knob but it was locked. Vinny pushed him aside and slammed open the green door with a well placed front kick, and the two of them staggered into the alley. As they ran for Washington Street, a second door opened ahead of them and two armed men stepped out. Raja and Vinny spun around to run back the other way. Both stopped when the three men came out of the green kitchen door, trapping them in the small alley.

  Raja pulled a small package from his pocket. Using a Bic lighter, he lit it on fire and tossed it across the alley next to the red brick wall. When it hit the ground, the pack of Black Cat fire crackers began to explode, echoing loudly in the alley and momentarily freezing the men who were closing in on them.

  Seconds later the whooping sirens of two squad cars blared from both ends of the alley. Police SWAT with rifles moved in quickly. The armed Triad men took one look and put down their weapons.

  The timing had been perfect. The police collected everyone into custody, including the restaurant manager and his entire staff.

  Once things on the street were under control, Lieutenant Sampson walked up to Raja smiling like the Cheshire cat. He said, “You call those fireworks? I’ve seen a lot better. But none I’ll remember like yours. I just got the call from the other SWAT teams. They took both sites cleanly. No casualties. They recovered over a dozen kids and about twenty parents.”

  Vinny perked up.

  “Including the boy Li and his mom and dad,” added Sampson.

  “That’s great news,” said Vinny. She did a little celebratory dance.

  “All told, looks like we have over a dozen Triad members and a lot more who worked directly under them,” said Sampson. “I’m confident someone will roll up on the bosses for the right deal.”

  “Speaking of that, Lieutenant, I would like to ask a favor,” said Raja.

  “Favor? Are you kidding? You own me today. Name it.”

  “I want to be in on the interrogations of the restaurant staff. One of them knows how to find our key suspect.”

  “You got it.”

  Later at the station, Raja and Vinny watched the interrogations. Most looked scared and sparked none of Raja’s interest. When the restaurant manager sat down, Raja asked to talk to Lieutenant Sampson. Sampson stepped out into the observation hallway.

  “He’s the one,” said Raja.

  “The restaurant manager? He’s all yours,” said Sampson. “I’ve already got two of the Triads rolling on the local dragonhead—that’s the Triad boss. You want to squeeze information out of this guy, go ahead. I’ll back your play.”

  Raja and Sampson went into the interrogation room. Raja sat down at the table across from the manager, while Sampson stood behind him.

  “We are looking for information on this guy, Judge Griggsby,” said Raja. He placed a picture of the judge on the table in front of the manager.

  The manager looked at the picture, but said nothing.

  Sampson moved close to the manager, and spoke softly. “We already have enough to close down the local Triad for conspiracy to kidnap, racketeering and murder. Here’s how this goes. You help us find the judge and you walk out of here a free man who refused to cooperate. You don’t and we send you back to Hong Kong after leaking that you were the one who turned on the Triad. I heard they burn traitors alive—after torturing them until they beg to die.” He paused to let the idea sink in. “So, what’s it going to be?”

  It was no contest. The manager sang for his freedom, giving up everything he knew about the judge as well as a couple other recognizable names. Raja made notes, until he heard the manager mention the Raintree Motel.

  “You mean the Avalon Motel, don’t you?”

  “No. The judge liked the Raintree Motel. He said they have a nicer breakfast bar.”

  “Isn’t that special,” said Raja, still disgusted by the whole man-boy scene. He hadn’t counted on a second motel. Apparently the underage sex trade was big business. Once he got all the information the manager had on the judge, he excused himself from the interrogation room. Vinny had already confirmed the motel’s location. If no one had alerted the judge to the raids, it was possible he was still in town.

  Lieutenant Sampson came out a minute later to thank Raja for his help. “You’ve done a lot for us. Hope you got what you needed for your case.”

  “So do I,” said Raja.

  “How long will you be in San Francisco?” asked Sampson.

  “Looks like another day, at least. We have a lead to follow up.”

  “If you do stay, come on down to Murphy’s on Kearny Street later tonight. We’ll be celebrating this bust until closing, or later. And your money won’t spend there, I can promise you.”

  “Appreciate the offer. We have one more place to stop first. Rain check?”

  “Done. Good luck on your case.” Sampson looked Raja in the eye and shook his hand, deciding right there to change his maxim that all private investigators were worse than useless.

  Chapter Fourteen: Judgment Day

  The Raintree Motel was only a mile from the police station. Vinny navigated while Raja drove. He rolled the red Ferrari quietly into the parking lot.

  The clerk at the front desk took one look at the picture of the judge and said, “Room 115, halfway down.”

  They reached 115 and looked through the faded yellow curtains. There was someone inside lying on the bed.

  “Open up,” said Raja loudly, while knocking.

  No response.

  “Come on, Judge. I know you are in there. Open up.”

  Still nothing.

  This time, after trying the door, Raja sent Vinny for the night clerk. Raja rubbed his head. Not good. />
  Vinny returned with the clerk, who unlocked the door and stepped back.

  Raja went in first. The judge was sprawled out on the bed face down in his boxers and knee-high black socks.

  Vinny followed Raja inside.

  The motel clerk stayed outside and peeked around them. “Is he dead?” he asked.

  “Looks that way.” Raja moved closer to check the judge’s pulse. Nothing. A hypodermic needle, spoon and piece of crinkled tin foil lay conspicuously on the nightstand next to the bed.

  A taste told Raja it was heroin. Raja checked the judge’s arms and found no tracks. The judge had none of the telltale signs of a junkie. His jacket and pants hung neatly on a hook behind the door.

  “I better call the police,” said the clerk. He disappeared down the walkway in the direction of the office.

  Waiting for the police to arrive was the right thing to do, but that meant cozying up to another homicide detective, too many questions and a lot of wasted time. If it was a professional hit, as Raja suspected, there would be no clues to be found anyway. Without hesitation, Raja dug into the pockets and found a set of car keys.

  Raja stepped outside the room and beeped the keys to a black BMW in the parking lot.

  “Wait for me,” said Vinny. “Dead bodies creep me out.”

  A search of the car brought nothing of interest. It was a rental from the airport. Another dead end. Raja found and removed one unidentified key from the key chain, replaced the car keys in the judge’s jacket and closed the motel room door behind him. As they drove away, two black and white patrol cars passed them and pulled into the motel parking lot.

  The Triad wasn’t the only one with a scorched earth policy. Dead bodies were becoming an epidemic on this case.

  Chapter Fifteen: See No Evil

  At her Santa Barbara ranch, Clarice Hope faced the distasteful job of making arrangements for a funeral service for her dead husband. Once her anger had cooled, the reality of her loss hit home. Needing support, she drove into downtown Santa Barbara to talk to the woman who ran a popular travel agency there. Clarice had booked many trips through that agency over the years, and in the process, she and Sandra Perkins had become fast friends.

 

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