If Angels Fall

FORTY-SIX

At dawn, awhite van squeaked to a stop at Gabrielle Nunn’s home and four sober-facedmembers of the San Francisco Police Department’s IDENT detail got out. Dressedin dark coveralls, they talked softly, yawning, finishing off coffee, andtossing their cups into the truck. A second van arrived with six more officers.They went to homes on either side of the Nunn’s, waking owners, showing themsearch warrants. Yellow plastic tape was stretched the length of seven houses,sealing front and backyards with the message: POLICE LINE — DO NOT CROSS. TheNunn home was the middle house. Before the day’s end, every inch in thesectioned-off area would be sifted, searched, and prodded for anythingconnected to the case.

It was no ordinary Sunday morning here. Something hadbeen defiled in the inner Sunset, where less than twenty-four hours earlierGabrielle had skipped off to Joannie Tyson’s birthday party, radiant in her newdress.

Her neighbors knew the nightmare.

They had seen the news crews, gasped for reporters,watched TV, and read the papers. This morning, they stared from their doors andwindows, shaking their heads, hushing their children, drawing their curtains.“I hope they find her. Her poor parents.” Something had been violated,something terrifying had left its mark, now manifest in yellow policetape-America’s flag of tragedy and death.

Ngen Poovong knew death intimately. But you couldn’ttell by looking at the shy eleven-year-old, standing at the tape with the usualcluster of gawkers and children. The horrors of Ngen’s life were not evident inhis face, his T-shirt, shorts, and sneakers. His secrets never left his home,which was two doors down from Gabrielle’s. Ngen did not know Gabrielle and Ryanwell. He had difficulty making friends, his English was so poor. His family hadbeen in San Francisco a short time. He watched the men in coveralls. Police.Never talk to police. He knew what the excitement was all about, but he wasfrightened. He glanced over his shoulder to this house and saw Psoong watchinghim from the window.

Do not tell them what you know.

Ngen said nothing. Just as he had done last night whenpolice came to their door, followed by the TV people. He remembered Psoongpeeking through the curtains, then turning to Ngen and his older sister, Min.“Something is wrong,” Psoong told them in their own tongue. “Police are goingto every door.”

Ngen and Min had not seen him this worried since theblack days when they were crammed on the boat, drifting hopelessly in the SouthChina Sea. “They are going to every house taking notes. They will be here soon.”

“Maybe they know?” Min said, pulling Ngen close.

“We must make no mistakes. Remember the rules.”

The rules were simple: Listen to everything. Watcheverything. Know everything. Say nothing. You are ignorant. Trust no one.Without the rules there was no survival. And Psoong Li, and Min and NgenPoovong were survivors.

Their families had met on a smuggler’s trawler,crammed with one hundred other people who paid 1,000 U.S. dollars a person forsafe passage from Laos to Manila. Four days out, pirates attacked. Ngen’sfather and mother were killed. So were Psoong’s parents. Min was raped. Psoongwas stabbed, but survived. Ngen wanted to jump to the sharks. Min became muteand stared at the sea. Psoong comforted the survivors, organizing the rationingof the little fresh water and rice that were left. He was especially kind toMin and Ngen, urging them to be strong to honor the memory of their families,to believe in their rescue. Psoong, Min, and Ngen became friends, forming asmall family, and Psoong shared the secret that his father had wisely sent hissavings to Psoong’s uncle in California, who had written that the bestcandidates for immigration to the United States were families with relativesliving there. Psoong had a plan.

He proposed that Min act as his wife and Ngen as theirson. Psoong was thirty-one, Min was twenty. With no documentation on theirages, they would lie to make it work. Afterward, they could go their separateways, if they chose, but for now it was a matter of survival. Min stared at thesea and agreed. There was no other choice.

“Good,” Psoong said. “No one will ever learn the truthif we follow our rules.” Failure would mean deportation and death.

“Remember the rules,” Psoong whispered to Min and Ngenthree days later when a Hawaii-bound Swedish freighter picked them up. Aftereleven months in a refugee camp, an American official granted them life when hestamped his approval on their applications to enter the United States.

In San Francisco, they lived in the basement ofPsoong’s uncle’s house for several months, maintaining their secret, remainingfamily. Then they bought an old two-story house in the Sunset with Psoong’sfather’s savings and the money they earned as office cleaners. They livedquietly in fear-fear that intensified when police came to them last night.

Remember the rules. We cannot go back. No one mustknow.

The two detectives were not in uniform, flashed theirbadges and Psoong let them in. They did not stay long after Psoong explained infaltering English that they knew nothing about the missing American girl. Whenthe detectives left, Psoong thought that was the end of it and managed a smile.His relief vanished less than an hour later when one of the officers returnedwith an Asian woman. She was fluent in five Asian languages, including theirs.

She was a pretty, young university language professorfrom Berkeley who could not be fooled. Right off she explained how the policewere not the slightest bit interested in them, only their help, which theycould give confidentially. After listening to her warm, friendly assurances,Ngen immediately wanted to tell her what he had seen.

The woman asked if they remembered seeing anything oddin the last month or so. Psoong and Min shook their heads. The woman showedthem a picture of Gabrielle. Yes, Ngen knew her and talked to her once ortwice. She was a friendly little girl who loved her dog.

“How do you know she loved her dog?” the detectivesaid.

The professor translated.

Ngen shot a look at Psoong. Remember the rules. The professorcaught the communication and placed herself on the couch between Psoong andNgen, showing Ngen an enhanced picture of Gabrielle’s kidnapper. For amicrosecond, recognition flickered in his eyes.

“Have you seen anything like this man around here before?”

Ngen swallowed and shook his head.

The professor knew the truth. “Are you certain?” Herpretty eyes held him prisoner. She would not let him look at Psoong.

“No,” Ngen lied.

The woman asked Min and Psoong a few more questions,then cards were left and requests made for calls if anything was remembered.This was a very serious case. A little girl’s life was in danger. Ngen noticedhow the tall detective searched his eyes for something.

Now, watching the police scrutinizing Gabrielle’syard, Ngen struggled to understand what was happening. More than twentyofficers in white coveralls, with radios crackling, were investigating theneighborhood. The enormity of Gabrielle’s disappearance hit Ngen. He could nolonger stand it. He hurried home and pleaded with Min to allow him to tell thepolice what he had seen. What if the kidnapper had stolen him? Wouldn’t Min andPsoong want help? This was the United States, people helped people here. Mincalled Psoong, who was at work. He came home, worry etched in his face.

“I, too, have thought about the matter. It is truethat I could not bear another tragedy, if this abductor were to take Ngen. Wemust help police catch him. But first we need assurances.”

Psoong called the number on the professor’s card andshe arrived with two new officers-Sydowski, a big man with gold in his mouthand his associate, a dark-haired young woman, Turgeon. Min made tea. Theprofessor assured them the police were only interested in the kidnapping of thelittle girl who lived two doors away.

“The little girl’s dog did not run away a month ago,”Ngen began.

“What happened?” Sydowski asked as Turgeon made notes.

The professor translated.

“A man took the dog in the night.”

How did Ngen know?

“I saw him from my bedroom windows,” the professor repeated.

Sydowski asked to see Ngen’s upstairs bedroom. Theysaw the small telescope on Ngen’s nightstand at the window. They remained calm.The bedroom’s large corner windows overlooked the Nunn’s backyard. Sydowskicould see two IDENT people kneeling in the dog’s kennel.

“Tell the officers everything,” the professor said.

Ngen loved to look at the stars and moon. They werehis hope when they were adrift at sea, and now his communion with his deadmother and father. The night the man came there was a three-quarter moon. Itwas about two A.M. because he had set his alarm to see the best view. All wastranquil in the neighborhood. Ngen could hear the Nunns’ air conditionerhumming. He was studying the moon when he saw a man walking down the backalley. He focused his telescope on him. He looked like the man in the policepicture. He unwrapped some meat and fed it to the dog, then walked away withthe dog to his truck, which was parked down the alley, and drove away.

Sydowski and Turgeon absorbed Ngen’s account.

“Did he get a license plate?”

The professor translated and the boy said something atlength, reaching for the star journal he kept, flipping through the pages.

He kept a journal? Sydowski couldn’t believe it.

At school they taught you to take license numbers ifyou ever saw anything bad. But he didn’t get the entire plate.

“The first three characters, B75,” the professortranslated.

“Was it a California plate?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of truck was it?”

Ngen didn’t know trucks.

“If we showed him pictures?” Turgeon asked, whiletaking notes.

The professor explained. Ngen nodded. “Yes, that wouldhelp.”

Sydowski wanted to know what kind of meat the man gavethe dog, and did Ngen see a store’s logo on any wrapping or packaging?

The professor translated. Ngen thought for a moment.It was hamburger in a white tray with transparent wrap.

“What sorts of things does Ngen write in his starjournal?”

The professor asked Ngen.

“Dates and times of everything he saw in the night.”

“Did Ngen make such notes the night he saw the mantake the dog?”

Yes, he did because it was so unusual.

“May we borrow the journal?” Turgeon asked.

The professor made the request. Ngen looked to Psoong,who nodded.

One more time, because this was so important, Sydowskiwanted to know what happened when the man approached the Nunns’ yard.

Ngen said the man threw some hamburger into the dog’skennel and the dog ate it without making a sound. Then the man opened the gateand the dog ate more from his hand. Then the man picked up the dog, took himunder his arm, and walked to his truck and drove off.

“Did the man throw the wrapper away?”

Ngen thought. Yes, he tossed it aside.

“Where?”

Somewhere in the alley near the yard.

“Again, what did it look like?”

The woman explained, then said something to Min, wholeft the room. She returned with three packs of frozen meat. Ngen touched apackage of sausages, packed on a white foam meat tray with clear plasticwrapping and a producer’s label with a bar code on one corner, with the date,weight, cost, and a product code.

Turgeon made notes. Sydowski reached for his radio andsummoned the head of the IDENT unit to Ngen’s room. The man arrived, his eyesdarting to the boy, the meat, Sydowski, then Turgeon.

“This is what we’re looking for, Carl,” Sydowski said.

Captain Carl Gray turned the package over in hishands.

“Sausages?”

“A meat tray and wrapper just like this one,” Turgeonsaid.

“The guy lured the dog away with wrapped hamburger,”Sydowski said. “If we could find the wrapping, label, and product code-“

“Right.” Gray came up to speed. “Then we could narrowwhere and when he bought it.” Gray reached for his radio. “I’ll call my teamfor a briefing. But it’ll be a needle in a haystack, Walt.”

“I know. It’s been nearly a month.”

Gray left, and while they thanked Ngen and his family,something ate at Sydowski, something he needed to know, so he told theprofessor to ask.

“Why didn’t you come forward yesterday?” the womansaid.

Ngen looked at Psoong, at Min, and the professor, whoimmediately knew the answer. They were scared.

Sydowski nodded.

Then Ngen looked directly at Sydowski and in a littleboy’s voice that was awash with emotion, spoke spontaneously, rapidly, forcingthe professor to struggle to keep up with him.

“They were scared that police would send them back,but he loved this country, it was his home and did not want to make troublebecause he knew that people who make trouble are punished. The day after thedog was taken, Ngen saw the little girl and how sad she was. He saw the signsin the neighborhood with the dog’s picture and heard her calling him everynight. He wanted to tell her that he saw a man steal her dog, but was afraid.”

Ngen began crying. Min comforted him.

“His heart ached for the little girl who loved her dogso much. Ngen knew what it was like to love someone and lose them. Now the girlis gone and he is terrified. It is all his fault. Had he spoken earlier, maybeshe would be safe. And now that he has spoken, maybe the kidnapper will comefor him? Please do not punish his family. He is sorry. Please forgive him!Please!”

The professor dabbed her eyes with a tissue.

Sydowski and Turgeon exchanged glances.