“Probably heading for the rig in Ponce de Leon Bay,” I said.
“They didn’t stop at first—then we shot out their motors. The chase boat engaged them in a firefight—one of them was shot and killed, the other two surrendered.” He paused for a moment. Like he was waiting for questions.
“You not going to ask?”
“About what?” I said.
“About what we got?”
“Fuck yeah,” said Richie. He was petting Sammy.
“Language,” I said, nodding at Maxie and Joey. But they didn’t seem to notice—or care.
“About one hundred and fifty million dollars of coke—street value.”
“Wow!” I said. Wong smiled.
“But—and this is the difficult part for me—one of the leaders of this whole damn thing is my niece, Li Lang Zhu.”
Wong took up the glass of white wine that he had been sipping, swirled it several times and then continued while he studied the wine.
“But I can tell you this, those we have taken into custody, including my niece and that young man with her, will be fully prosecuted.” I wondered if he knew of Snow’s involvement with Lei Sun.
Then Wong raised his glass to me. “I thank you, Cooper, and your friends,” he said, nodding at Richie and Louise and Huck, “for what you have done.” He drained the glass, then watched the last drops gather in the bottom. “Because of you we will bring these criminals to account.”
He paused then said. “And about the rig in Ponce de Leon Bay, the Coast Guard confiscated over a thousand pounds of cocaine. They also boarded the Zhi Zhu Nu...” He hesitated. “I know that rig is in Cuban waters, but we treated it as a threat to the safety of the U.S., so we boarded it anyway and confiscated more than a ton of cocaine.” He paused again, smiling. “They also found two young Chinese men, members of the Black Lotus Tong. They had armed themselves with M4A1 rifles but dropped them when the Guard landed. They claimed some bad people killed one of their members and then made them jump into the sea. You know anything about that?” He was looking directly at me.
“Hell of a fish story,” I confessed.
“Huh. I thought so. Anyway, we got them and they’re in the same jail as the other guys. Only thing worse than a Miami jail is another Miami jail, right Louise?” I think he meant it.
Louise nodded. “Uh-huh. Good place for them.”
“Anyway, guys…“ he caught himself then continued, “I mean guys and Detective Delgado, the total we confiscated—on the fast boat, on the Zhi Zhu Nu, and from the Ponce de Leon rig—amounted to over three and a quarter tons, a street value close to three hundred and fifty million dollars. And that’s no fish story!”
“No shit!” said Joey. Jillie nudged him.
“No shit,” said Wong, winking at Joey—which made Joey grin.
The wine was getting to Wong but he continued anyway. “Did you know that cocaine is an eighty-eight billion dollar a year business world-wide?” He let that sink in. “And forty percent of the drug is consumed in North America?” and he let that sink in. “And you guys just helped us stop some of that action.”
We had been sitting and listening to Wong for about half an hour so I went into the kitchen to bring out more wine. We were down to four bottles of white and a six-pack of Sam Adams. I brought it all out.
“What about the drilling?” said Louise. “Did the Guard check out the small rig for illegal drilling?”
“Yes, they were doing horizontal drilling and we found the stash of...”
“And you shut the bastards down, “ said Richie.
“Damn right—and we arrested every one of those guys. And they are also in your jail,” he said, nodding to Louise.
Then he turned to Cynthia and said. “About your father, several of the guys in jail were responsible for his murder. Nobody confessed yet, but our guys...” He hesitated, “you know...” We all knew.
He continued. “Unfortunately, the organization behind all this, the Black Lotus Tong, is still operating. We got their leader (it was clear he didn’t want to mention his niece again) but we didn’t get the big boys. And, more bad news, the Tong is expanding their territory from the South China Sea into the Caribbean. And adding to their product line. It used to be only heroin, now it’s also coke and marijuana. Eighty percent of it coming through the Caribbean.”
A quiet settled over the porch when Wong quit talking. No one wanted to break into it. Except Huck, who said that the ancestors were with us and that the evil spirits that had robbed us of our peace these last days were running from the spirits of the wind and the moon and the stars. I believed him as I watched the moon grow big in the sky over the Everglades. It shone brightly on the River of Grass. I was grateful for that light, and nodded a silent thanks to Huck. I knew that he was talking not only about drugs and illegal drilling but also about the return of a young boy to his father and mother.
I signaled Maxie to come over and sit by me, Jillie giving him a gentle shove. So, he came over, sat, and pushed up against me. Then, we all watched the moon, falling under its magic. And I drank and held Maxie close and got numb from the wine.
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Three
Winding Down
Tony DeFelice showed up around 10:00 p.m. “Shoulda called!” he said. Pissed, storming onto the porch.
“I...”
“I mean, right away!” he continued. “We was partners, remember! I’m the one brought you down to Miami for the job. I’m the one told you about a lead I had on a kidnapping ring—sweat it out with you for all those years while you looked—jumped in when you needed help! Remember?”
And I did. “I know I should have called right away—but...”
“Damn right. But you were too busy. Too busy to call your old partner. Hey, Richie and Louise you called, right?” Looking over at Richie and Louise who were now standing. “But you…? So, what am I? Chopped liver?”
I shrugged and nodded, like I knew he was right.
“Easy, Tony,” said Louise. “Nobody meant any disrespect. You and Coop are good friends. He woulda called if he had the time.”
“Maxie’s like my own son,” he continued, now sounding hurt. That made it worse.
Then, “Come over here, Maxie. Give your Uncle Tony a hug!” and Maxie did just that and DeFelice gave him the same bear hug that Richie gives. Then he pulled back and looked at him. “You got more handsomer since you been gone, son. Now you look better’n your old man,” and he just stayed like that for a few moments, looking Maxie up and down, then, “Damn, son, it’s great to have you back.”
DeFelice and I made up, I promised to call him. He said Sure, I’ll believe that when it happens. But that’s his way, with Richie telling him Shut the fuck up and get over it, like he did back in the day when we grew up together on the streets on the East side of Cleveland. And DeFelice telling him to pound salt.
Around midnight, Wong collected his sunglasses and hat from the porch and said he was going to drop off Cynthia at her home. “This lady has got a real story here,” he said, nodding at Cynthia. “Father and mother get son back—after eight years. A headline. National story!” Then to me: “And you...you not only got Jack Hayward’s killers, but you uncovered illegal drilling in the Everglades and helped us make one of the biggest drug busts in history, and...” he paused, “the President said he wants to thank you personally for what you did. He’s going to call you.”
“The President? Of the United States?” I said, not sure I heard him right. “He’s going to call me?”
“Of the United States. He’s not going to meet you. But he is going to call you,” he said, grabbing my hand and shaking it. “Congratulations—to you and your friends.” He was looking around at all of us. “You made big news today—here, and in Washington.”
“I don’t believe it,” I said. “I’m shocked.” And I thought I might say that I accept this in the name of all my friends who helped...but decided, nah, that sounded like a speech at the Oscars.
“Believe it,” Wong said. “Maybe you should buy a lottery ticket.”
“And thanks, from me and Jack,” Cynthia whispered, as she leaned in close and put her arms around me, squeezed like she would never let go. “It’s all good now,” she said. “I know what happened to him, and that makes it okay.” Then she pulled back to look at me. “I can write that story now—thanks to you.”
I nodded. “You should. You’re a good reporter—and Jack would want you to.”
I walked them out to Wong’s unmarked and watched as they pulled onto Midnight Drive. I couldn’t help but think of the young woman I had seen on the street below my office just a few weeks ago. We had both grown a lot older since then.
DeFelice packed it in around 1:00 a.m. Got an early morning, he said. Some of us are still working—he was really hurt when I retired from the Department. “I’m gonna leave you to spend some time with your son,” he said, leaning in and whispering. And I gave him a big DeFelice kind of hug and said, I love you, bud. I could see him trying to stay cool—trying to stay macho—DeFelice and Richie—same kind of people—they don’t cry. Matter of fact, neither do I. So we hugged and pounded each other on the back and things were back to normal with us—everything forgiven. And he said, “I love you too, bud.”
Then, “You really deserve this,” he said, gesturing at everything around me. “Your son back, Jillie and you able to make peace with it (he said wit it) and you know...” and he ran out of words, or was getting too choked up to talk. His eyes reddened as he looked away pretending to clear something from them.
“Dammit, Cooper, you almost got me cryin’.” He paused, trying to get back to his old macho self. “I wanna know all about Maxie’s story, okay? So, call me.” Then he shrugged his shoulders through the door, like a tough cop would, turned one last time with a thumbs-up and headed for his car. I didn’t follow him out. He wouldn’t want me to. But I watched at the door as his lights disappeared into the trees.
By two a.m. my wine supply was down to a few bottles. I planned on drinking at least one myself. Richie and Louise had already turned in. I gotta catch an early flight—and don’t worry, Lou will take me, Richie had said. All three had gone to bed before DeFelice left, Louise in my bedroom, Richie in one of the two guest bedrooms. Sammy followed him into the house. My guess, he sleeps with him.
Huck was still hanging out on the porch. He rose when I came through the screen door, and I knew he was going to say something deep. He took my hand, grasping me by the arm and said: “I knew that Maxie would come back to you. I would like to bless you and this house so that no bad things can come to you in the future.” I was glad Richie was gone. Then he began:
“May the Warm Winds of Heaven
Blow softly upon your house
May the Great Spirit
Bless all who enter there
May your moccasins
Make happy tracks
In many snows
And may the rainbow
Always touch your shoulder.”
I determined that I would have it printed and framed and that I would mount it over the screen door on the front porch.
Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four
The Full Copper Moon
Early Tuesday Morning, December 13
Eleven Shopping Days Before Christmas
So, now it was just Jillie, Maxie, and I, and, of course, Joey Lewis and we were sitting on the back porch. I had opened a bottle of 2012 Liberty School, Pinot noir. We were all drinking, even Maxie and Joe E. Lewis.
Jillie put her arms around Maxie. “We are so lucky, Coop. To have our son back.” And she hugged him tightly.
Joey tipped his glass but didn’t say anything. I knew what he was thinking about—his own past. But Joey had his Uncle Charley. And he must have been reading my mind, because he tipped his glass again, like a real grown-up. “Here’s to the former orphan,” he said, smiling, and we all smiled with him and drank to that.
Suddenly a light flashed across the side of the house. I looked at my phone. Two-thirty a.m. and wondered, who the hell...?
A car door slammed and we all turned to see who was coming around the house. The moon was now low in the December sky and it was out full. Native Americans call it the Full Cold Moon. It’s when winter descends over the hunting and growing fields and one has to depend on what he has stored up from the harvest of buffalo and deer and wheat in order to live through the snow and the cold. It’s sometimes called the Long Nights Moon—because the it leads us into the darkest evening of the year. We were only six days away from that night.
A lone figure emerged from the shadows and walked slowly, tentatively towards us.
“Hello,” he said, the man in the shadows.
“Asp!” whispered Maxie. No fear there.
Jillie gasped. “My God, what’s he doing here?”
“Hi Maxie,” said the figure walking into the light cast by the dim porch lamp. He was holding up his hands in a peace gesture and said, “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” in a sharp voice, a clear voice, but with a distinct accent. He hesitated at the bottom of the steps. “May I?” he asked. He was looking at Maxie.
He was dressed entirely in black—I mean entirely—black pants, a black shirt, black shoes, and a black fedora.
I waved him up.
“What happened?” I asked, my last image of him being carried away by the FBI in handcuffs.
“The Gendarme arrested me. Took me to Washington in a helicopter. Then questioned me for hours about how Doctor Henry died. I told them, simple, I shoot him!” He was holding his hands up like it was a simple explanation.
“But...?” I said.
Maxie leaned into me. “I shot him,” he whispered.
“You what?” I said, loudly.
“I shot him,” Maxie said again, this time so everybody could hear.
“The boy is not telling the truth,” insisted the man whom Maxie called the Asp.
“That’s right,” said Jillie, “because I shot him.”
And the five of us stared at each other.
“You are all lying,” said the Asp again. “It is not necessary.”
“How did you get out?” I said, totally confused.
The man who was interrogating me was replaced by a Chinese man. I think he was the same man who was at the scene.”
Wong! I thought. “What did he say?”
“He said, Are you left-handed or right-handed? And I said I was right-handed. And he said, Then, you didn’t shoot Doctor Fowler. I ask him why? And he asks how could I reach behind Doctor Henry’s head from where I sat and shoot him?”
“That makes sense,” I said. “So...”
“He said I was free to go. I ask him who did he think killed Doctor Henry if I didn’t. I was worried about what he would do next.”
“You mean about Jillie or Maxie?”
“That’s right.”
“And he said?”
“That the gunshot was self-inflicted.”
“You’re kidding!” I didn’t really expect him to reply.
“I am not kidding, Mister Cooper. He was serious. So, I ask him why did he think that?” He paused waiting for me to ask the question. But I didn’t. I was anxious to hear what Wong had said. Then, he continued. “He said the medical examiner said the evidence points to self-inflicted wound.”
“But the gun...”
“He said it had Doctor Henry’s fingerprints on it,” and the Asp shrugged, like What do I know?
There wasn’t a sound from Maxie or Jillie. “You never told me what happened in the car,” I said to both of them. And then added quickly, “And I think it’s better if you don’t.”
The Asp nodded while Jillie and Maxie just stared at me, probably not knowing what to say. I shook my head, stopping the discussion at the pass. I sent a silent thanks to Wong.
“I thought you were going to kill me,” said Maxie, in a voice tentative and soft, as the Asp pulled up a chair next to him.
&nbs
p; The Turk leaned in and laid his arm over Maxie’s shoulder. “I have only love for you, cocuk (child),” he said. “When you disappeared, I feared for your safety. Doctor Henry was very upset.” He paused. “You see, I thought you were his true son. I did not know you were not.” He looked at me and at Jillie and held up his hands. “I hope you understand that I did not know.”
Then, “And Maxie, do you understand?” he said.
Maxie just sat there staring into the table and a long uncomfortable silence followed. Then after what seemed an endless amount of quiet, Maxie turned to the Asp, nodded his head, and said, “Okay. I understand.” He paused. Then, “But I really did think you were going to kill me,” he said, almost in a whisper. A sheepish smile crept over his face.
The Asp replied, “Never, sevgili arkadasim (my dear friend). Never.” He put his arms around Maxie and hugged him. “I would always protect you.” Then holding him at arms-length and staring eye to eye, he added, “My job was always to protect you. I was your bodyguard, sevgili oglum (my dear boy),” he insisted, shaking Maxie gently.
“And I feel like I must still be that.” He paused, dropped his head, and thought for a moment. “But now you have your father and your mother and you won’t need me anymore.” He looked sad as he said it, this man in black, this thin, middle-aged, sharp featured Turk, this man with no gray hair, no sign of age other than his mature behavior, this man who looked like a shooter for the mafia. He seemed so vulnerable now.
What was there to say? So I thanked him and told him that he had actually saved us. And that we owed him. He shrugged, as if to say, What else was I to do? Then we sat in the quiet of the Great Swamp, and stared at the darkness of it, and listened to the noises of it, and watched the moon cast its spell over it, and said nothing for what seemed hours, but was only a few minutes.
“So, what are you going to do?” I said to the Turk. “And what is your real name, by the way?”
A Cold Copper Moon (The Cooper Series Book 3) Page 31