Finding David Chandler

by Charles Ayer

  “Look, I feel bad for the both of them, but why would he approach me?”

  “Because you are one of his oldest friends, and you are apparently successful. David was probably pretty desperate.”

  “I am successful, but I am not rich, Matt. Life on the North Shore of Long Island is expensive, and both my children are in private schools. Even if he had come to me, I am hardly in a position to loan someone I haven’t seen in almost twenty years $150,000.”

  “Who said anything about $150,000?”

  “I thought you mentioned that sum,” said Kwan, reddening.

  I’d gotten the lucky break I so desperately needed. I wasn’t surprised. Peter Kwan was an amateur, playing a game he had no business playing. I drained my teacup and put it back on the tray. The Lipton tea was actually pretty good.

  “Let’s cut the crap, okay?” I said. “David Chandler came to you in desperation and asked you to lend him $150,000. What did you tell him?”

  “Perhaps he did, and perhaps he didn’t,” said Kwan, just making things worse for himself. “But if he did, it was a private matter between him and me. I see no reason to discuss it with you.”

  “Mr. Kwan – Peter - the man is missing. I can’t even be sure that he’s still alive, and his wife, a woman you know, is frantic. I understand your desire to keep your business transactions private, and under normal circumstances I would completely respect that. But these are not normal circumstances.”

  “Mr. Hunter, you have to understand that this goes beyond David and me. I have other things that I must take into consideration. Other people.”

  “I hope you understand that it isn’t my job to worry about your other considerations.”

  “But I have to worry about them just the same, Mr. Hunter.”

  I was getting nowhere.

  “I haven’t lost all my connections in law enforcement, Peter.” I didn’t know how much I even believed that. Lieutenant Hudson and Deputy Commissioner Welles had both been polite and helpful to me to an extent, but I had no idea how much more help they’d be willing to give me.

  He stared at me hard for a long time. He refilled our teacups, which we both ignored. He was buying time.

  “Mr. Kwan?”

  “Okay,” he said, finally. “Yes, David Chandler came to me and asked me to lend him the money.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I told him just what I told you, that I wasn’t in a position to lend him that kind of money; and even if I was, it is my strict personal rule not to be involved, ever, in that kind of business.”

  “Is that your rule or your grandfather’s rule?”

  “You would be well-advised to keep my grandfather out of this discussion,” said Peter, with a hint of fear in his voice.

  “I don’t think I can do that, Peter. I know that your grandfather is involved, heavily involved, in the, ah, private banking business.”

  “You can think what you want, Matt, but the plain fact is that I am in no way involved in my grandfather’s business dealings. I never have been, and I never will be, and I know nothing about them. That is his rule as well as mine, and we never break it.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but that wouldn’t stop you from making a referral.”

  “I don’t make referrals.”

  “Not even for your old college roommate, when he was clearly in some kind of serious trouble?”

  “I told David in no uncertain terms that he should make every effort to find another source for the money he needed.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He said he’d already done that.”

  “And then what did you say?”

  “Matt, please.”

  “Did you refer David Chandler to your grandfather?”

  “Please, Matt, leave this alone.”

  “Did you?”

  “Okay, okay,” said Peter, the fear in his voice creeping into his eyes. “No, I did not make a referral to my grandfather. I did make a call, however, to one of my grandfather’s business associates, an attorney who specializes in financial matters.”

  “I’d like his name and address, please.”

  “Are you sure about this, Matt?” said Kwan. “I am asking this for your own sake, not mine.”

  “I can take care of myself,” I said, pretty much positive that I didn’t believe it. But once you’re in up to your waist, you might as well get in up to your neck; and in up to my neck was where I was going to be if I started messing with Granddad Kwan’s colleagues. But there was no turning back now.

  He gave me another long look that said he wasn’t so sure about it either. Then, without a word, he walked over to his desk, tore off a sheet of paper from a memo pad and jotted something on it with a fountain pen. He walked over and handed it to me. It contained an address on Pine Street, downtown in the financial district, and a phone number.

  “No name?” I said.

  “I’ll call ahead. They’ll be expecting you in about an hour, so you’d better hurry. And Mr. Hunter, please listen carefully: I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t ever want to talk to you again. Whatever you do, and whatever may happen to you, is none of my concern. Do you understand, Mr. Hunter?”

  “I understand,” I said, feeling a droplet of sweat trickle down my back.

  “Good.”

  “I only have one more question,” I said. He ignored me, but I asked him anyway. “Peter, do you have any idea where David Chandler might be hiding, assuming he’s still alive?”

  Peter Kwan returned to his desk and sat down. He began to peruse some documents and made no attempt to make any eye contact with me. I presumed I was dismissed.

  I left the office and got back on the elevator. It was crowded with tourists coming back from the Observation deck. I wished I was one of them. I took it to the ground floor and left the building. I didn’t look up, and I didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “NOT EXACTLY WHAT YOU EXPECTED, MR. HUNTER?” said the stunning blonde, with a slight accent that I couldn’t place, as she came around from behind her desk and shook my hand. The nameplate on the desk said that she was “Daria Evanishyn, President.” She was tiny; she walked like a ballerina, and she had perhaps the most spectacular blue eyes I’d ever seen. Her smile revealed slightly crooked teeth that only added to her allure.

  The address that Peter Kwan had written down had said only “37 Pine Street, Suite 3C.” I’d contacted Lieutenant Hudson as soon as I left Kwan’s office, and he’d met me outside the Empire State Building in an unmarked squad car driven by the same young patrolwoman who had escorted me to his office. She drove like a pro, and we made our way downtown in no time. Hudson got out with me, but he said he’d wait in the lobby while I did my business. That was fine with me, but it was nice knowing that I had backup a quick phone call away.

  According to the occupant listing in the lobby, Suite 3C was occupied by a company called “Odessa Financial Advisors.” I guess if I’d been a really good detective the “Odessa” part would have been an important clue.

  “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t know what to expect,” I said.

  “Of course you did,” she said, dazzling me with another smile as she retook her seat behind her desk and motioned me to a chair on the opposite side. I didn’t know how many more of those smiles I could take before I offered her my hand in marriage. “You were expecting an old Chinese man.”

  “Okay,” I said, seeing no sense in denying it, “that was exactly what I was expecting, Ms… Ms. Evan-”

  “Evanishyn,” she said, giving the final vowel an odd twist that I knew I couldn’t mimic. “My name is Daria Evanishyn. Please call me Daria.”

  “So you’re Russian, Daria.”

  “Oh, Mr. Hunter, let’s not get off on the wrong foot. I am Ukrainian by birth, but now I am a proud American citizen. I got my undergraduate degree from Dartmouth and my M.B.A. and J.D. from Harvard.”

  “Well, don’t I feel stupid.”
/>   “Please don’t. It’s a common mistake.”

  “I don’t mean to be nosey, but how did a firm like yours come to work for a man like Alistair Kwan?”

  “I wouldn’t exactly characterize it as ‘working for,’ Mr. Hunter,” said Daria. “I would say that we are… associates.”

  “Okay, then,” I said. “Then how did you become associated with Alistair Kwan? I’d always thought that the Chinese, uh, business community, kept to itself. And please, call me Matt.”

  “Alistair Kwan is a visionary, Matt, and we came to admire his business acumen. So we reached out to him and described our business model and expansion plans. He quickly saw the advantages of associating with us instead of competing with us, especially since his son was dead and his grandson was not part of his succession plan.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “Oh, please, Matt. You are surely not that naïve.”

  I was, but I was catching on quickly. I decided to move on.

  “You’re right,” I said, “and I’m wasting your time.”

  “I am at your disposal, Matt. But I’m sure you don’t want to leave your colleague, Lieutenant Hudson, cooling his heels down in the lobby for too long. I’m sure he’s a busy man.”

  Daria Evanishyn was impressing me more by the minute.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “I presume you understand the necessity for this conversation to be private.”

  “I think I do.”

  “Good, then I hope you won’t mind if one of my colleagues confirms that you are not wearing any recording devices?”

  “Of course not.” So it was going to be like that.

  As if on cue, a tall, stocky, bullet-headed man with thinning brown hair and an unhealthy complexion entered the office. The privacy of our conversation was apparently a one-sided proposition. He quickly and professionally patted me down, gave Daria a nod, and left the office without saying a word.

  “Good,” she said. “Now, how may I help you?”

  “An old friend of mine, David Chandler, was in bad need of some money. He went to his former college roommate, Peter Kwan, for help. Apparently Peter Kwan referred him to you.”

  “Yes,” said Daria, pursing her lips, “Peter made a bad mistake in judgment, and now he’s made another one. Both his grandfather and we have firmly agreed that Peter is not to be involved in our business partnership in any way. I can assure you that his grandfather has already spoken to him, and now he will speak to him again. For his sake, I hope he listens this time. But what’s done is done, and here we are. So, yes, David Chandler came to me and requested a loan of $150,000.”

  “And you gave it to him?”

  “Normally, we wouldn’t deal in sums so inconsequential, but because Peter so sentimentally inserted himself into the situation, we felt that we had no choice but to honor his request.”

  “So you loaned him $150,000?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  “And what were the terms?”

  “The loan is repayable in full on August 15th, exactly two months after he received the funds.”

  “And I’m sure there was interest attached to the loan?”

  “Yes, we offered David our preferred customer rate of 50 percent per month, so the amount due on August 15th will be $337, 500.” In David’s defense, he probably hadn’t understood the interest factor, at least not until it was bluntly explained to him after he had already received the money.

  “My God. What’s your non-preferred customer rate?”

  “Actually, that’s none of your business, but it’s 50 percent per week.”

  “No wonder David disappeared.”

  “As you can imagine, we were quite concerned to learn of David’s disappearance.”

  “How did you find out about it?” I said.

  “We follow up with our newer customers on a regular basis. The last time we tried to touch base with him, he couldn’t be found.”

  “Of course,” I replied. That explained the disappearance. I could only imagine how friendly the follow-up calls must have been, and how frightened David must have become once he realized the full magnitude of what he had gotten himself into.

  “Peter’s grandfather insisted that Peter guarantee the loan, but, because he’s a family member, he will only be obliged to repay the principal, and we will make no money on the transaction. That is bad business all around. Which brings us back to you, doesn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry? I’m not following.”

  “Yes you are, Matt,” said Daria, giving me a smile that was suddenly chilly. “You are clearly a loyal friend. We know you and David grew up together, and that you also appear to be close to his wife. So we think it’s only reasonable, in the unlikely event that Mr. Chandler defaults on his obligation, to expect you to step into his shoes and repay your friend’s loan for him, interest included, of course.”

  It wasn’t like this surprised me. I’d never worked in the Organized Crime division, but you can’t be an NYPD cop without understanding how these people operate. I wasn’t concerned because I’d seen Doreen’s financial statements, and I knew she’d make good on the loan if she had to. But, for Doreen’s sake, I didn’t want the lovely Daria even to suspect any of that.

  “But I don’t have that kind of money! For God’s sake, I’m broke!” I said, making my debut as an actor. I hoped it was convincing.

  “That is not our concern, Matt. Why do you think we agreed to see you? Out of the kindness of our hearts? Out of genuine concern for David Chandler? Please. I know you’re smarter than that.”

  “I’m just telling you that I have no way of repaying that kind of money.”

  “The interest and principal are repayable on August 15, Matt,” said Daria, in a businesslike tone. “We don’t really care who repays it. But please be aware, our default terms are harsh.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t think you need to ask. You were a cop.”

  “You’re right. I don’t think I do.”

  “Then I think our business is concluded.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said. “I got what I came for.”

  “And so did we,” said Daria.

  We shook hands as if we’d just closed a deal on a used car, and she gave me another one of her dazzling smiles as I turned to leave, but somehow the charm had gone out of it.

  ******

  “I guess you could say New York’s a dynamic place, Matt,” said Lieutenant Hudson, as we walked down Pine Street toward the unmarked car that was waiting for us. “The Chinese moved in and shoved the Italians out of the way, and now the Russians and Ukrainians are moving in and shoving everyone out of the way.”

  “They’re a tough bunch, huh?”

  “The toughest. You don’t want to know. So if I were you, I’d find your friend David pretty damn quick or hope to win Powerball.” I liked Walter Hudson, and I trusted him implicitly, but there had been no need to tell him about Doreen.

  “So you think she was serious about me guaranteeing the loan?”

  “These people are never not serious. I’m sorry Matt; I should have seen this coming and steered you away from ever getting involved in a mess like this.”

  “Don’t worry, Walter; I would have gone to see Peter Kwan with your help or without it. It’s my job.”

  Walter glanced over at me with something approaching admiration, and it made me feel good.

  We were only a few yards from the car when a man came up behind Hudson and jostled him. I looked around and immediately recognized the bullet-headed guy who had patted me down in Daria’s office.

  “Careful there, sport,” said Hudson.

  “No, you and your friend be careful, sport,” said the guy with a thick accent that told me he was a recent arrival to our fair shores.

  “What are you talking about?” said Hudson, turning to look at the guy without breaking his stride.

  “Walter,” I said, “I met this guy at the office just now.”

 
; “Yes, Mr. Hunter,” said the guy. “And it better be the last time we meet, because the next time will not go so well. Do you understand?”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “And that goes for you and your fucking NYPD, too,” he said, jostling Hudson again. “This is none of your fucking business.”

  I never really saw what happened next. I thought I saw Hudson raise his arm and make something like a flicking motion, but I really couldn’t be sure. In the next instant the bullet-headed guy dropped to the sidewalk like he’d been shot. His face bounced hard off the pavement. One of his legs gave a twitch, and then he was still. Hudson kept walking.

  “I’m sorry, Walter,” I said. “I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your day.”

  “Every day’s a great day to be a cop, Matt,” was all he said, smiling as we got into the car.

  He was still smiling as the car pulled away from the curb, and he was still smiling as he stared at the bullet headed guy still lying motionless on the sidewalk as we drove by.

  But I knew he was going to get up off the pavement sooner or later, and when he did, I was going to have to be careful. Enforcers live and die by their reputations, and he would have to get revenge, or the sharks would come out and the blood in the water would be his.

  I looked over at Lieutenant Hudson, the man who had taken him down before he even knew what hit him, the man with the full force and authority of the NYPD behind him. I didn’t think the guy would seek his revenge against him.

  I was going to have to be very careful.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “NO WONDER YOU WERE SO TIRED,” said Doreen. “What the hell has David gotten himself into?”

  “That’s a damn good question,” I said.

  We were sitting on the banged up sofa in my tiny living room drinking coffee. I’d planned to go directly over to her house after I’d gotten back from the city the night before, but I was more exhausted than I’d realized. So I’d picked up a pizza and a six-pack on the way home, drove straight back to the duplex, and turned on the Mets game. I fell asleep in the fifth inning after only three slices of pizza and two beers, and that’s how Doreen had found me at eight the following morning after she’d driven over because she couldn’t get me to answer my cell phone. The battery had apparently died on the way back from the city, but I’d been too tired to notice. I was still clutching my beer, and I hadn’t spilled a drop. At least I had my pants on.