Black Karma Page 10

  “I’m flattered you recognized me. Getting back to the point, who are you?”

  “I’m Daniel Chen,” he replied, looking slightly annoyed by the question.

  “I’ve run Internet searches on Daniel Chen. Oddly enough, he appeared out of nowhere a few years ago. His paperwork must have been very convincing to have gotten him a job teaching at Berkeley.” She looked at him with a questioning gaze. “So the question remains: who are you, really?”

  “Forget about trying to find out who I am. Tell me who killed my friend.”

  Their gazes met. She wasn’t fooled by his laid-back manner. The man sitting on the couch across from her was a predator. She could feel his animal presence. Her hand rested on the sleeve of her jacket. “I can do better than that. I can show you who killed Wen.”

  She turned the laptop on her desk so he could see the screen, then started the video from the hotel surveillance cameras. He came off the sofa in one fluid movement to bend over and stare closely at the screen. His features hardened when he saw the gunman raise the weapon.

  “You!” he hissed under his breath.

  Straightening his back, he stared at the screen while she studied him. His hands slowly rolled into fists. A muscle at the base of his neck twitched.

  “Did you kill the two men in your office?” she asked.

  He turned slowly to look at her. Eyes like blank coins regarded her in cold appraisal. “I haven’t been to campus in weeks.”

  “What about the heist south of Market? Did you take the money and the drugs?”

  He barked a humorless laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What money? What drugs?”

  “The police have named you as their chief suspect in a cop killing, a triple homicide in the SOMA. Reportedly, you made off with a million in cash and a million in heroin.”

  He turned away from her and paced across the room to look out the window. “Thanks for the information. Wen was right. You helped me. I owe you.”

  “For what?” she asked.

  “For giving me her killer.”

  “What good was that? Nobody could recognize her killer from that video.”

  As he turned toward her, a wolfish grin spread across his face. Before she could ask anything further, he turned to bolt from the room. By the time she made her way downstairs to street level, he’d disappeared.

  Chapter 15

  Bai sat at her desk trying to puzzle out who had lied and who, if anybody, had told the truth. If Daniel Chen had nothing to do with the triple homicides in the SOMA, then who had possession of the drugs and the money? And why was Kelly so insistent on placing the blame on Chen? How did Wen Liu’s murder fit into the picture, or did it? Why had Kelly come to her? None of it made any sense.

  Her cell phone rang. Lee’s voice sounded hesitant over the phone. “Where are you?”

  “I’m still at the office. Why?”

  “I need your help. I’ve followed Kelly and his tail north to Columbus Avenue, where he met a man. Kelly fawned all over the guy. I’d like to follow Kelly’s new friend to find out who he is. If you can pick up the tail on Kelly, I can follow our mystery man. Can you meet me at the corner of Columbus and Vallejo?”

  “I’m on my way,” she said, getting out of her chair. “Call me if Kelly leaves before I get there.”

  About 800,000 people are jammed into roughly seven square miles in San Francisco. So even though the corner of Columbus and Vallejo was only five city blocks away, Bai decided the stalled traffic would make walking faster than taking a cab. She hustled past idled cars on Chinatown’s narrow streets and dodged around double-parked trucks. Within ten minutes, she’d reached her destination, where she found Lee leaning with his back against a building to observe her approach.

  “Where are they?” she asked.

  “In Figaro’s, on the other side of the street.” He nodded in the direction of the popular restaurant. “The girl tailing Kelly is standing next to the bus stop. She’s the young brunette wearing a jeans jacket over a red top and black denims.”

  “I’ve got her,” she replied as she gazed across the street.

  With her back to them, the girl seemed oblivious to anything other than her quarry inside the cafe. Following a cop, a potentially dirty one, could be dangerous—not a task suitable for a young and plainly inexperienced girl.

  As Bai watched, Kelly and a man in a dark-gray suit walked out of the restaurant.

  The man in gray looked to be middle-aged, clean-cut, wearing a well-tailored, expensive-looking suit. He had broad shoulders and carried himself with assurance. Wary eyes scanned the street in both directions. The man had hawk-like features beneath a deep tan that implied he’d spent a lot of time somewhere other than San Francisco, someplace where a potent sun could turn a gwailo chocolate brown.

  The men didn’t shake hands when they parted. The tan man turned left while Kelly turned right to walk toward the girl waiting at the bus stop. He wore a sour expression on his face, suggesting whatever he’d ingested at the café hadn’t agreed with him.

  Lee tapped Bai on her shoulder in silent farewell before walking around the corner. He used a couple of businessmen walking in the same direction as a screen between him and the tan man. She almost called him back. Something about the tan man troubled her. He seemed too aware of his surroundings, too watchful. She consoled herself with the thought that Lee could take care of himself.

  Meanwhile, Kelly walked down the other side of the street. He proceeded at a considerably slower pace. His sauntering gait gave the jeans-jacket girl plenty of time to put her back to him. When the girl turned, Bai got a good look at her—a Latina, very pretty, very young. Large gold hoops dangled from her ears. Dark-red lipstick coated full, pouty lips that would never need plumping. Curly black hair dropped past her shoulders.

  The girl stopped to light a cigarette as she eyed Kelly with a malevolent glare. Frowning, she inhaled deeply on her cigarette before walking lazily down the street in his wake. Her leisurely pace kept her a half block behind him. Staying out of sight didn’t seem to concern her. Her attitude suggested boredom or perhaps even contempt for the man she followed.

  Kelly shoved a finger up his nose as he shambled down the street. The girl stopped abruptly to shake her head in obvious disgust. Bai laughed. He continued to dig in his nose and wipe his hands repeatedly on his stained raincoat while Bai wondered distractedly what he hoped to find.

  Continuing to follow the pair from the other side of the street, Bai allowed them plenty of room. The sidewalks were busy but not crowded. Around five, when office workers abandoned their cubicles, the story would be different. She hoped by then Kelly and the young Latina would have brought an end to their little jaunt.

  Kelly turned right on Vallejo and proceeded to casually stroll down the street toward Powell. Before reaching the cross street, he stopped to enter the SFPD Central Station. Their little parade came to a jarring halt. The young Latina looked around in apparent confusion. Bai waited across the street, watching to see what she would do. After a while, the young woman made a call on her cell phone.

  Bai grew tired of waiting. She crossed the street and walked up to confront the girl. The Latina turned away and ignored her. Bai walked around her until they faced each other again to ask, “Why are you following Inspector Kelly?”

  “Check it out. I don’t know you, lady. Go away.”

  “It’s true we haven’t been introduced, but you’ve been spotted near my office in Chinatown twice in the past couple of days. Just for your information, you’re not very good at dogging people. You should try to be more aware of what’s going on around you. He may be an old, drunk cop, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be dangerous.”

  “Aren’t you all that?” the girl said indignantly. “You’re the fuckin’ danger. Are you trying to get me capped? Get the fuck away from me before I jack you up!”

  While the girl sounded belligerent, her eyes darted with fear.

  “Tell me why yo
u’re tailing him, and I’ll leave you alone,” Bai offered.

  “Check it out. I’m just putting in work. He said to keep an eye on the fat popo, so I’m keeping an eye on the fat popo.”

  “Who asked you to keep an eye on the fat cop?”

  “Why you wanna know?”

  “I’m oddly curious that way. What can I say?”

  The girl seemed scared and exasperated. When she finally spoke, her ensuing explanation sounded reluctant. “He’s ‘o’ ‘g,’ China, Norteño.”

  “So this guy’s an original gangster. Are you Norteño?”

  “Are you loco, China?” Her attitude transitioned from frightened to disdainful without pausing to take a breath. “Girls can’t be Norteño. I’m chola. They own me. They protect me. That’s the way things are.”

  Bai’s jaw clamped down. “I see,” she reflected. “We have the same problem in my world, but being property never appealed to me. Are you sure you wouldn’t be better off quitting? Life has more to offer than being somebody’s bitch.”

  The girl looked at Bai as if she were crazy. “You don’t quit. They quit you . . . with a double deuce in your fucking head,” she said while pointing an index finger at her temple. “That’s the way it works. Now get the fuck away from me before somebody decides I’m a hater.”

  On closer inspection, Bai guessed the girl’s age to be around sixteen—a child. Makeup made her look older and harder. Scrape off the heavy war paint, and a teenager would surface. At a time in her life when she should have been going to school, the girl ran errands for gangsters while trying to survive in a world that viewed her as property. Her situation made Bai sad. And angry.

  “I don’t suppose this Norteño of yours would want to talk to a girl? Me, for instance, if you were to ask him nicely?”

  “You really are trying to get me capped!”

  She looked as if she might take flight. Bai calmed her by taking a step back and putting her hands up, palms out. “It was just a thought. If you think it’s a bad idea, forget it.”

  “You gotta book now! They’re gonna be here soon. If they see you, it’ll be bad for me. They’ll know I screwed up. Please, go away and leave me alone.”

  Bai took a card out of her pocket and handed it to the girl. “If you get in trouble and need help, call me.”

  The girl didn’t look at the card. She stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans as she scanned the street anxiously.

  Bai turned to walk back to the corner and cross the street. She found a doorway alcove where she could step in to watch the girl. A few minutes later a shiny black low-rider, a four-door Chevy, pulled to the curb. The girl put her hands up with one finger showing on one hand and four fingers on the other as she produced a forced smile.

  Bai continued to watch as the front passenger door opened. Her old friend Rafe stepped out of the car to yell at the girl. He brought his hands up in front of her face and slapped them together. The girl shrank back and covered her head with her arms. He grabbed her by the arm and shoved her at the closed door of the car, where she slammed up against the side of the low-rider. Turning away, he got back into the front passenger seat without looking back. As the girl opened the rear door of the car, she looked up and locked eyes with Bai. As Bai started toward her, the Latina shook her head, tears on her cheeks, and ducked into the backseat of the low-rider.

  Before Bai could cross the street, the car pulled away from the curb. Anger and frustration clouded her thoughts. The world could be cruel and unforgiving. She knew she couldn’t save every child. She told herself that what she needed to do was to mind her own business.

  Angrily, she turned to walk south on Columbus toward Chinatown while trying to forget about what she’d seen. After all, the girl wasn’t her problem. The Latina made her own choices.

  “Shit!” She spoke the word aloud and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  She knew what she should do and what she would do were two different things. As she stepped to the curb to flag down a cab, she wondered why the Norteños were interested in a nose-picker like Kelly in the first place. A barely functioning alcoholic cop seemed an odd choice to keep tabs on. And why send a little girl to do the job?

  “Bryant and Sixteenth,” Bai informed the cabbie as she settled into the backseat.

  There was no telling where Rafe had taken the girl. She’d try to enlist Boobs’s help in rescuing the young Latina. He knew Rafe, and he knew the district. What she didn’t know was whether or not he’d help her run a fool’s errand. She had a weakness for strays. There was no use denying it.

  Chapter 16

  The gym still smelled like dirty socks. Boobs worked with a black fighter, a tall kid who radiated intensity as he jabbed at the padded mitts Boobs held out in front of him. The slap of leather hitting leather tapped out a lively cadence as the fighter punched—one-two, one-two-three—while the kid’s eyes focused like lasers on the red targets. Boobs kept moving to make the young man practice his footwork. The kid followed him around the mat like a dancer.

  When Boobs spied Bai, he put his hands up to bring the session to an end. Dropping his arms and stepping back, the young fighter breathed heavily and wiped his brow with a forearm.

  “Work the speed bag, Rory,” Boobs said as he slipped the red mitts off his hands “Give me at least ten minutes, five on each hand. Then work the heavy bag for another twenty minutes.”

  Rory nodded and turned away with a backward, appreciative glance at Bai while Boobs made his way toward her with a smile creasing his face.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked.

  “You may not be so happy to see me when you find out why I’m here.”

  His smile dimmed but didn’t vanish. “Why don’t you tell me and let me be the judge?”

  “I want you to help me find Rafe.”

  The smile disappeared, and he took a deep breath. “What do you want with him?”

  “I’d like to ask him some questions.”

  “He’s not much of a talker.”

  Hesitant, she looked away, then back at Boobs. “There’s a young girl with him, a Latina, with whom I’d like a word in private.”

  He stared at her and cocked his head. “I’ve seen that look before. There was a woman back home in Texas who would get that same determined look on her face. I learned the hard way to avoid her when she looked like that. Nothing good ever come of that look.”

  She smiled tightly. “You may be right. I’m on a mission. I saw Rafe rough up the young girl. He treated her like one of those gloves,” she said, gesturing to the sparring mitts in his hand. “I want to take her away from him and away from the Norteños. Will you help me?”

  Boobs shook his head with a look of consternation. “What are you thinking? You think if you waltz in there and ask nice, Rafe’ll give you his girl?”

  “What if the girl were your daughter he was slapping around? What would you do then?”

  His jaw clamped tight and his eyes narrowed in anger. “She’s not my daughter. My daughter died twenty years ago. She lived the life, and there was nothing I could do about it. I tried, but she liked the excitement. And she liked the drugs.”

  He stopped and seemed to consider a moment, his emotions calming. “Fear makes people want to be slaves—fear of being alone, fear of dying, and fear of living. That’s what makes people put up with being hurt. You can’t make somebody brave. They’ve got to find their own courage. That’s the way life is.”

  She shook her head. “This girl’s just a child. She hasn’t had time to find her courage. With Rafe beating her down, I’m afraid she’ll never find the nerve to break away.”

  He remained silent, his brow furrowed in thought. “Just assuming you get this girl, what are you going do with her? If she’s running with the Norteños and living the gangster life, she sure as hell ain’t no angel. You gonna take her home and make her part of your family? ’Cause right now, the only family
she’s got is that gang. If you take that away from her, she’s not going to thank you.”

  “I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I just know I have to give her a chance at something better than being a gang whore. If you’d seen the look in her eyes, you’d understand. She’s scared. She’s just a kid.”

  “You should be scared, too,” he said. “You go up against Rafe, you’re going up against the Norteños. That’s a whole lotta awful, girl.”

  “Then help me find a way to get her free without making trouble. You know this neighborhood and the people who live here. You’re respected. Help me broker a deal.”

  He looked away with a scowl before turning back to face her. “Maybe I’m as big a fool as you are.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “All right, I’ll do what I can. Come on up to the office while I make some calls.”

  He led her up the metal stairs to his loft office and took a seat behind his desk. Using an old-fashioned rotary phone, he started to make calls. Most of the conversations were short as he asked to speak with a man by the name of Hector. When he finally connected, he asked for a meeting while remaining vague about what he wanted, just saying it was business. Hector seemed reluctant but finally agreed. They’d meet in an hour at a café on Eighteenth Street.

  He put the phone back on its cradle and stared at her. “Hector is the lieutenant of the local Norteños. They have some kind of a military structure with generals, captains, lieutenants, and soldiers. All their generals are Nuestra Familia, locked up in prison just like most of their captains. Almost all of their decision makers are behind bars. That alone should tell you the kind of men you’re dealing with.”

  “Will Hector have the authority to speak for his gang?”

  “I think for what you’re asking, he probably can. The girl’s not a gang member, so there isn’t any reason to protect her unless they’re just in the mood to be assholes. It’s up to you to make sure they get into the right frame of mind. That shouldn’t be a problem. You seem pretty good at talking people into acting stupid.”

  She smiled at him. “I won’t forget you helped me.”