Code Name Komiko

by Naomi Paul

Lian stopped short. “What call? When?”

  “I don’t know. Last night, around eleven o’clock? You call, you say nothing, you hang up. So I called you back, and you didn’t answer.” Mingmei shrugged. “What was it? A butt-dial?”

  “No,” Lian told her. “I didn’t make any calls at eleven last night. Neither did my butt.”

  “How do you know? A girl can’t be sure of what her butt’s doing twenty-four hours a day.”

  “I lost my phone yesterday, sometime before dark. Maybe some upstanding citizen found it and was trying to figure out who it belonged to. I mean, it makes sense they’d call you, Mingmei. You’re far and away my most frequently dialed number.”

  “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all day.”

  “But then,” Lian wondered out loud, “why wouldn’t they have said anything to you?”

  “Maybe they changed their mind about turning it in.”

  “Yeah,” Lian said, as they pushed open the double doors to the outside. “Maybe they weren’t so upstanding, after all.”

  She waved good-bye to Mingmei and feigned interest in her Tolstoy novel for a couple of minutes, until she was sure her friend was well out of sight. Then she strapped on her panda helmet and cruised to the Appolo stand. Zan wasn’t there yet. Lian ordered a red bean popsicle and took a seat on a nearby ledge, her eyes searching the crowd for Zan’s face.

  When he arrived, she hardly recognized him. Scrubbed, clean shaven, and sporting a recently brushed smile, Zan was much more presentable than he had been the day they had met.

  “A decent night’s sleep looks good on you,” she told him.

  “I figured, if you were taking me out for ice cream, the least I could do is make myself pretty.” He did a little half turn to show off his new wardrobe: an inexpensive gray pocket T-shirt and black jeans, and a good effort to shine up yesterday’s shoes.

  “You’ll note,” he said, “no Harrison Outfitters logos anywhere.”

  “Yeah, I’d hope not.” She read the hungry look in his eyes and spotted him the cash for a Black Jack Cone, which he accepted gratefully.

  “So,” he said a moment later, his mouth full, “did you talk to your friends? Can they help me?”

  “Honestly? They’re not sure, Zan.”

  He swallowed. “What’s not to be sure about?”

  “It’s just a matter of proving that Jiao worked for Harrison.”

  “What?” he said, his brow furrowing. “You don’t trust me?”

  She was stung by the iciness of the accusation. “You have to understand, it’s not about trust. It’s about making an ironclad case. If we move forward with hearsay, we’re setting ourselves up to fail.” Her eyes pleaded with him for calm. “It’s not personal. It’s not about you.”

  “I can’t imagine anything more personal,” he said, crumpling his wrapper. “This is my little sister we’re talking about.”

  “Of course, but—”

  “But you want proof. Okay, fine.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, chewing his bottom lip. Then he seemed to come to a decision. “Okay. This is what we’ll do. I’ll go undercover—get a job at the Harrison complex. I already know my way around it, and this way I’ll have access to the records buildings. I’ll find her file, her payroll info. There’s your proof. A nice little paper trail for your do-gooders club.”

  Lian shook her head. “One of the ‘club’ already suggested a plan like that. But I don’t know if it’s such a good idea. I mean, your surname will slot right next to your sister’s in a database. . . . They’re bound to notice something like that.”

  “Right, right,” he said, considering. “Well, then, I’ll use a fake name. Honestly, I doubt they’re going to look too closely. The way they churn through their workforce, all I’ll have to do is show up desperate for a job and willing to take whatever they offer me.” He seemed bolstered by having solved the problem. “This is a perfect plan. I’ll apply first thing tomorrow.”

  He stood and took his trash to a nearby bin. Lian remained seated, watching him. There was almost a swagger to his walk now; he seemed somehow emboldened by the idea of the subterfuge.

  Still, she was unsure. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said when he returned. “It’s very brave of you, but it also feels reckless to go back there, considering how we left. Maybe tomorrow’s too soon. Maybe we need to gather more information first.”

  “Screw that. I’ve lost too much time already.”

  “Listen, Zan, I really just need to talk to my group before any of us does anything.”

  He waved her off. “Talk all you want. Talk until you’re blue in the face.” He paused, and took on a mean look. “Just like my sister was when you found her.”

  Lian felt her blood go cold. “Zan . . . ”

  “Talking is useless. I’m planning to actually do something, unlike your little group.”

  “Just . . . just wait, okay? I’ll be in contact—”

  “You think things can be fixed by talking?” he said, glaring at her. “All right, then. Let me talk to this group of yours. Let me make them understand why it has to be this plan, and it has to be now.”

  She hung her head, shrinking from his angry eyes. “I told you. I can’t do that.”

  “Right,” he said with disgust. “I forgot. You can’t do anything. You can just talk. Well, if you want to talk to me now, the word you’re searching for is ‘good-bye.’”

  Lian didn’t even look up to see which way he’d gone. She sat for a moment more, until the popsicle dripped onto her hand, and then rose to throw it away.

  The weight of the books in her bag—especially once Anna Karenina rejoined them—was a reminder of how much she had to do that evening; add the requisite violin practice, and she was already looking at another late night. But her head was a jumble in the wake of Zan’s abrupt departure, and she knew she was no good for schoolwork at the moment.

  Instead, she took the scenic route home, steering the Twist N’ Go down to Harlech Road and then cruising up Hatton, enjoying the path carved through the natural beauty of Lung Fu Shan Park. The warm air rushing over her face, and the long stretches during which she didn’t have to dodge other vehicles, eventually brought on a sort of serenity.

  Rather than piloting for Conduit Road and home, she smiled as she wondered whether it was too late to take Mingmei up on that hat excursion. No phone, of course, so she might as well just swing by.

  Here, back on the edges of Central, there was once again traffic to contend with. Lian pulled her scooter to the curb to make way for an ambulance, its lights flashing and siren screaming as it raced past her. When it was gone, she fired up again and rounded the corner onto Mingmei’s block.

  There were more flashing lights.

  Two police cars were parked right outside of Mingmei’s family home, flanking an empty spot that the ambulance had clearly just left.

  Lian’s heart was in her throat. She popped her scooter over the curb and let it fall onto the grass in front of Mingmei’s building. She hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps before a police officer moved into her path, holding up a warning hand.

  “This is my best friend’s house!” Lian told the officer. “Is she okay? Who was in the ambulance?”

  The officer stood, mute as a wall and just as impassible.

  Through the open door of the home, Lian could see Mingmei, wrapped in a blanket, looking shell shocked as someone else in the house brought her a cup of tea, before putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. Lian squinted, sure that her mind was playing tricks on her in the blue wash of the police lights. But it was not.

  That was Matt Harrison, all right.

  Just as she was working up a good head of angry steam, Matt looked up, noticed her, and waved her in to join them; when she took a step forward and the policeman moved to block, Matt shouted out, “It’s okay, officer, she’s our friend.”

  The cop shrugged and stepped aside, and Lian rushed into the house. “What happened?” she
asked.

  “Burglars,” Matt answered.

  “They busted in and roughed up Meihui,” Mingmei said. Lian gasped; she’d known and loved Mingmei’s elderly housekeeper ever since she moved to the island. The thought of anyone assaulting the woman was abhorrent.

  “They think she’ll be all right,” Matt told Lian. “But they wanted to take her to the hospital to check for internal bleeding, stuff like that. She seemed to be taking it all in stride. Tough lady.”

  “She is,” Lian agreed.

  “My poor Meihui,” Mingmei said, her voice quivering. Matt readjusted the blanket on her shoulders.

  “You said it was burglars,” Lian prompted. “Did they take anything?”

  “Just two computers,” Mingmei said, dabbing at her eyes with a corner of the blanket. “Not the jewelry, not the Blu-ray, nothing else. I guess Meihui startled them before they could really start getting their haul together.”

  Lian felt her brow crease. Mingmei’s house was a treasure trove of art, antique baubles, and high-tech entertainment devices. There were thousands of dollars’ worth of loot between the front door and the study, where the computers had been. So why had the thieves gone straight for the computers?

  She was beginning to think the prank call Mingmei had received might have been more than just a good citizen trying to return a phone to its owner. She said nothing aloud, because she knew she was just speculating at this point; she had nothing to go on other than a gut feeling.

  But it would nag at her until she knew for sure.

  “I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said. Matt politely stepped back a bit so Lian could throw both her arms around Mingmei. “And Meihui will be okay, too. I just know it. She’s going to outlive us all.”

  Mingmei smiled, and took a sip from the cup Matt had brought her.

  “Oh, American boy,” she said, making a face. “We’re going to have to teach you how to brew tea properly.”

  He shrugged, and they all smiled, bathed in the blue light through the open doorway.

  It was healthy, Lian thought, to find something—anything—to laugh about in the midst of all of this.

  FOURTEEN

  7:11 PM HKT — Komiko has logged on

  Komiko: Hello, everybody.

  Crowbar: you ok?

  Komiko: A scary incident at a friend’s house. Don’t worry about it; nothing to do with you or 06/04. It’s just on my mind.

  At least, Lian didn’t think it had anything to do with 06/04. Even if there was some connection between her missing phone and Mingmei’s stolen computers, she didn’t see how it would lead back to the group. She’d been scrupulous about not putting that kind of info on her phone in any form that would make sense to anyone but her.

  Torch: Sorry to hear it. Hope everything’s okay.

  Lian almost typed a snarky comeback, but decided just to enjoy the sentiment. A note of humanity from Torch was sure to be fleeting.

  7:13 PM HKT — Blossom has logged on

  Blossom: Present and accounted for.

  Crowbar: Good 2 see every1, whats the news?

  Komiko: I talked to Zan this afternoon. He trusts us about as much as Torch trusts him.

  Torch: He sounds like a smart guy.

  Komiko: Well, he’s exactly as smart as Blossom. He had the same idea, about going undercover at Harrison’s complex. I tried to talk him into waiting, but he’s too fired up.

  Torch: I’ll say again, it’s not a good idea. As soon as we start involving a third party, things get messy.

  Blossom: If Zan is willing to take that risk on himself, I dont see what harm itll do.

  Torch: 06/04 works because we’re a small, focused group. Every hand knows what the others are doing. Zan is a wild card; we can’t predict what he’ll do or police his mistakes.

  Crowbar: Ive got 2 agree . . . Komiko U R maybe 2 close 2 him already. If harrison figures out what hes up 2 & questions him, whats 2 say he wont give U up 2 save himself?

  Lian grit her teeth as she decoded Crowbar’s distracting shorthand. Once 06/04 had vanquished all the evils in the world, their next mission should be to sit Crowbar down with a touch-typing program and a dictionary.

  Komiko: I don’t think he’d do that. He’s got integrity.

  Torch: Please. You’ve known him 24 hours, which means you don’t really know him at all. If avenging his sister is his top priority, everything else — including you — is a distant second.

  Blossom: BUT . . . if hes that focused on getting justice for his sister, hes going to try to take Harrison down however he can. Which sounds to me like hes on our side. The enemy of our enemy, and all that.

  Blossom: If we back him, work together, and prove that Harrisons up to something… thats a HUGE coup for 06/04.

  Crowbar: . . .

  Crowbar: It would be nice 2 take Mynahs work 2 the finish line

  Lian knew she had to be careful how hard she pushed. Blossom was in favor of Zan’s plan, and Crowbar could be persuaded. Torch was Torch; he’d dig in his heels the whole way, but even he couldn’t argue with results.

  Komiko: One person is already dead because of Harrison. If we stand by and let that happen to someone else, we’ll regret it forever.

  Crowbar: Speaking of which Ive got the prelim post mortem for Jiao

  7:24 PM HKT — Crowbar has uploaded one PDF

  Nobody typed anything for a couple of minutes as they read over the coroner’s report. There were two versions, one in basic Cantonese and the other in basic English. Lian scanned the genderless drawing of the victim; both the left and right flanks were circled. She checked this against the handwritten notes down the left of the form.

  DESCRIPTION OF CORPSE: Body is that of Asian female approx 15 years, 65 inches, 106 pounds. Clothed in white blouse, gray skirt, white undergarments, socks, left shoe. No jewelry present.

  EXTERNAL EXAMINATION: Unenbalmed body in early-stage putrefaction due to submersion in salt water. Rigor mortis in major muscle groups, livor mortis fixed anteriorly. Skin intact with no trauma save medical intervention.

  Lian scratched her head at terms she didn’t know: sclerae, nares, irides, crepitus. Context clues helped, but she got the feeling these weren’t the important parts of the exam anyway.

  HEPATOBILIARY: The liver weighs 2040 grams, edge blunted, cut surfaces discolored, blackish.

  “Blackish” sounded wrong, even to a layperson like herself. The word cropped up again in describing the kidneys.

  Crowbar: 1 important thing 2 note is under RESPIRATORY

  Crowbar: No water in lungs = she didnt drown, she was dead b4 she went N2 water

  Crowbar: Kidney & liver discoloration is concerning

  OPINION: Unknown Asian female, approx age 15-17 years, prelim exam inconclusive. Toxicology screen out.

  The exam was dated, and the box next to FURTHER ACTION had been ticked.

  Crowbar: Tox report will tell if drugs were involved. I suspect yes

  Crowbar: Not necessarily recreational, she could have been dosed

  Komiko: I saw any number of vats of toxic chemicals at the factory. The whole place seemed like it was poisoning me slowly.

  Crowbar: I wouldnt rule that out, we would need more 2 go on though

  Lian sat back from the laptop. “More to go on.” Such as, the papers her father had been sweating over the night before in his study? The ones detailing the health and safety concerns at Harrison Corp?

  “Lian,” her mother called. “Dinner in five minutes.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Komiko: I might have an inside track on HC safety records. I’ll have to get back to you guys later, though.

  Komiko: I really think we’re starting to see this puzzle come together.

  Blossom: This is exciting. Let me say again how glad I am to be part of this.

  Komiko: Glad to have you. Bye.

  7:35 PM HKT — Komiko has logged off

  Lian stepped into the living room, snagged the cordless phone off
its cradle, and returned to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She Googled the number for the Mount Davis hostel and dialed. Zan had been incensed this afternoon, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate the question she wanted to ask him now. But if he knew of any drug problems that his sister might have had—painful as they might be to admit—it could go a long way in helping make sense of the coroner’s report.

  “Lei ho,” Lian said when a woman answered. “I’m looking for a young man staying there. His name is Zan.”

  “I’m sorry,” the woman said after some shuffling of papers. “There’s no one on our ledger by that name.”

  Lian sighed. Of course he’d used a fake name. It was probably a good idea on his part, but it gave her no way of tracking him down.

  “Okay,” she said. “Thank you for checking, anyway.”

  She returned the phone to its cradle and then entered the dining room, where her mother was just setting out the bowls. But for the stoneware, the scene looked much like the one in her father’s office last night: he was surrounded by stacks of papers, rubbing at his temples in frustration.

  “It never ends,” he said with a sigh as Lian took her seat.