Counterfeit Lies

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The sun was beginning to set but the day’s warmth refused to wane as the shadows lengthened. As promised, Tommy arranged for a “meet and greet” with Park Soon Yong.

Jake followed Tommy’s black Lexus LS F Sport through the tree-lined streets of San Marino, an exclusive community near Pasadena, part of “greater” Los Angeles. Occupying an area less than four square miles, some thirteen thousand people called the city home. Over half those residents were of Asian descent. Even in a residential market downturn, the typical San Marino home carried a $2-million-plus price tag. Large lots and massive structures were the norm; upscale and expansive, just the type government employees like Jake could never afford.

Yet he was savoring the moment. Here was a lawman, listening to a CD of Peyton Tochterman singing “God and Country”—a song about Red Roundtree, America’s oldest bank robber — while trailing a Korean mobster driving a luxury car built in a country that once enslaved his own ancestors, on the way to a mansion occupied by an agent of a government committed to bringing down all these trappings of “bourgeois capitalism.”

It just doesn’t get any more surreal than this! Jake said to himself. But then it did.

As the two cars approached the destination address, a dark 2013 BMW 640i Gran Coupe was leaving the residence. Through the lightly tinted windows, Jake thought the driver appeared to be Middle Eastern, perhaps Mexican or Latin American — but certainly not Asian. Jake did a quick head turn as the car passed, catching the license plate. Grabbing a pen from the glove compartment, he scribbled the numbers on a piece of scrap paper.

Jake followed Tommy to the driveway, where they were greeted by ten-foot beige stucco walls, a large black steel gate, and enough surveillance cameras to give Fort Knox a sense of inadequacy. At the entrance a security device was mounted on an arm extending over the yellow brick paving stones. Tommy punched some numbers into the keypad and Jake, his window down, could hear the device calling a phone. Like a drive-thru call box at a fast-food restaurant, a voice came over the speaker.

“Good afternoon,” answered a female voice.

“It’s Tommy Hwan. My friend in the car behind me and I are here to see Mr. Park. He’s expecting us.”

Within seconds the giant gate opened and the cars slowly entered. Jake wasn’t sure what to expect and wondered if he was about to be ambushed by a North Korean hit squad.

The long, winding driveway bisected a well-kept botanical garden and perfectly manicured lawn. The U-shaped home had a five-car garage on the north end of the drive. The garage was connected to the house by an enclosed walkway. Pyongyang’s answer to Al Capone lived in opulence.

“Sin pays,” said Jake as he exited his car.

“I’d downplay your cute little witticisms if I were you. Show some respect. Mr. Park is an important man and not one who will take pleasure in your Western comedy.”

“Witticisms? Now who’s using big words? I’ll try to contain my comic alter ego.”

He watched Tommy punch the doorbell and a melodious tune could be heard through the large oak door. Patience was not one of Jake’s virtues and the wait seemed longer than normal. He was hoping the crime boss wasn’t racking a round in the chamber of a high-powered automatic. He wanted to pound on the door, but knowing the importance of the man on the other side, he stepped away from the portal and “bladed” himself, trying to become a thinner target should bullets start flying.

Tommy gave Jake a questioning look as if to say, “Should I ring the bell again?” But before he could open his mouth a twenty-something female opened the massive door. Though she wasn’t stunning, her almond eyes were accentuated by shoulder-length black hair and a perfect porcelain complexion.

“Hi, Tommy,” said the female with a beautiful smile.

Tommy gave her an extended hug and she returned the embrace, looking over his shoulder, and with that same smile eyed Jake. Then Tommy introduced the undercover agent to Jenny, H. Daniel Reid’s former love interest and the target of Jake’s fictional assassination attempt. There’s no accounting for bad taste. Why would a girl living in such luxury be attracted to some aging barrister just because he belches big bucks?

Jake and Tommy stood in the entryway and watched Jenny as she casually walked down a long hallway to an open door.

“Father, Tommy and his guest have arrived.”

Jake heard a voice say, “Show them in.”

Jenny returned and ushered the men toward the hallway. An older female and young girl walked out from the kitchen as the men passed. Tommy stopped and in Korean greeted the woman. She smiled and bowed. Tommy turned to Jake. “This is Soo Min, Mr. Park’s wife. And this is Gracie, their granddaughter.”

“I’m Jake. How do you do?”

Soo Min smiled and bowed without speaking. Gracie bowed and held up four fingers. “I’m four. How old are you?”

Jake smiled. “A little older than that.”

Jenny continued to lead the men down the hallway to the study.

Jake was hardly surprised when he entered Park’s office. Everything this man did was beyond excess. The marble floor and oak-paneled walls shouted wealth. His large antique desk was situated to overlook the Olympic-size swimming pool in the backyard, the water cascading down a man-made falls.

The criminal kingpin was sitting in a high-back brown leather chair and Jake quickly spotted two Asian males posted in opposite corners at the far end of the room, quietly standing guard. He saw the bulges beneath their matching dark green Tommy Bahama shirts and assumed the two were well armed. There was a strange familiarity with the smaller of the two men; his manner, his eyes. Jake couldn’t quite place it but it was unsettling. He needed to focus but the nagging question persisted.

Tommy strode to Park and bowed. “Mr. Park, thank you for seeing us. Allow me to introduce my friend, Jake. He is the one who has been assisting us in our business.”

Park nodded toward the security guards, then said to Jake, “You will understand if my men perform a cursory search.”

Jake smiled, lifted his shirt, and turned around slowly, displaying the Glock 19 resting in the small of his back. “With your permission I’ll remove it. I have no intention of using it but understand your reluctance to discuss business with an armed man.” Using two fingers, Jake carefully withdrew the semi-automatic and laid it on a nearby dark walnut antique Korean medicine chest.

Anger and embarrassment flashed across Tommy’s face; he had been unaware Jake was armed. “Sir, I can assure you I had no idea this man brought a weapon into your home.”

Park waved him off. “He is a careful man. It is okay. Should he have chosen to use the weapon he would not have left alive.” Smiling, Park spoke in Korean to the larger of the guards. The man stepped forward, picked up the firearm, deftly dropped the magazine into his palm, set it on the chest, cleared the 9mm round out of the chamber, and placed the empty weapon beside it. As the big man returned to his post along the wall, he slid the round into his pocket.

Jake was unapologetic. “I didn’t mean to dishonor you by bringing a weapon into your residence. I have enemies who might strike at any time… so when we leave, I would like to have the bullet your man removed from my pistol. I may need it.”

“No offense is taken. I understand. And of course you may have your bullet… when you leave.”

The preemptive strike of revealing the weapon prevented a pat-down, which might have uncovered the recording device. He might not have been armed during the conversation, but it was being preserved for posterity.

“Tommy has told me a great deal about you,” said Park.

Jake smiled. “He has told me little about you but I am aware of your importance in the community.”

Before the conversation expanded into the area Jake wanted to explore, Gracie, the little girl, now dressed as a ballerina, came dancing into the office performing a make-believe ballet for her grandfather.

As she completed her performance, she curtsied. Her grandfather applauded wildly. “Gracie, that was beautiful. You are a most excellent dancer.”

Soo Min and Tommy applauded as well and Jake reluctantly joined in with what could only be described as mild enthusiasm.

Gracie floated over to Jake, a Caucasian giant to this diminutive four-year-old. “I’m going to be a ballerina. Will you dance with me?”

Before agreeing, Jake looked toward Park for permission. He wasn’t quite sure what was proper protocol and typically didn’t care. He was portraying a crook, not a diplomat, but asking permission seemed like the right thing to do. Gracie saw him seeking approval. She turned toward her grandfather and with the eyes of youthful innocence asked, “Papa, can he dance with me?”

Park smiled, pleased the visitor had sought permission. He nodded in agreement toward Jake.

Gracie let out a faint squeal and grabbed Jake’s hand. For the next several minutes the two danced around the floor, the now-uninhibited undercover agent and the crime lord’s granddaughter. The tough-guy persona was buried for the length of an imaginary song.

Tommy seemed to enjoy the scene almost as much as Mr. Park, only Tommy’s reactions lacked the sincerity of the crime boss. Tommy loved seeing the round-eye making a fool of himself.

As the youthful ballerina extended the dance beyond an imaginary song or two, it became apparent the performance was as much an excuse to avoid bedtime as to entertain her grandfather. After a few too many sashays around the spacious office, Soo Min looked to her husband. “It is time for bed.”

Park then gave the order to Gracie. “It is time for you to go to your bedroom. Jake and Tommy and I have business to discuss.”

Gracie agreed without an argument. She bowed to Jake and when he kneeled down, the young ballerina gave him a huge four-year-old hug. She then ran over to her grandfather and gave him a hug and a kiss.

Soo Min and Gracie walked down the hallway, hand in hand, the younger swaying to another imaginary song. Gracie kept turning around, waving to Jake with her free hand.

“My granddaughter likes the tall American.”

Jake smiled, a genuine smile. “I think your granddaughter is pretty special.”

Park instructed one of his security guards to close the door, but before he could, Jenny brought in a tray with three cups and a steaming pot. “Father, may I offer you and your guests some tea?”

“Yes, of course. Though I suspect my guests might want something stronger than tea,” said Park.

Jenny provided an impish grin. “Do I need to remind you what the doctor said?”

“Tea is fine, Mr. Park,” said Jake as Jenny poured the tea and offered cups to her father, Jake, and Tommy, but not the two security men.

“I understand you were able to assist with a container of valuable watches that arrived the other day,” said Park.

Jake nodded.

“That is good,” said Park. “And I understand we have another container arriving soon.”

“Yes,” said Tommy.

“And you are helping us get that container past the customs officials in San Diego.” It was a statement, maybe even an order, rather than a question.

Jake smiled. “That’s what I do.”

With his daughter still in the room, Park continued the conversation, inquiring more into Jake’s background. The undercover agent provided the basic legend he invented detailing his investments. He downplayed his criminal history, as most crooks would in any initial meeting. Jake had been at this long enough to know how much to reveal, often like a first date, just enough to keep the suitor interested.

“Father, would you like me to stay?” asked Jenny.

“No, we are fine, thank you, unless you would like to stay?”

Jenny shook her head as she made her way to the door, closing it on the way out.

Park waited until she left the room before he rose and slowly ambled to the wet bar. With a conspiratorial smile he offered both visitors a drink. Though the men declined, he poured himself half a glass of cheongju, the clear rice wine that served as Korea’s answer to Japanese sake. He held up the glass and said, “My daughter does not have to know about this.”

“Sir, we don’t wish to take up a lot of your time. I need to discuss something very important,” said Jake.

Taking a sip of his drink, Park said, “We are here to do business; please speak. Tell me why you’ve asked to meet me.”

Without breaking eye contact with Park, Jake said, “It might be better if we talk alone.”

“I don’t think that is necessary, unless you don’t trust the man who introduced us,” said Park.

Jake looked at Tommy. “I trust him as much as I trust any man who deals in smuggled goods.”

Mr. Park let out a hearty laugh and pointed to the two henchmen serving as security guards. “Maybe everyone should leave and allow me to speak with the visitor in the privacy of my office. Please take his weapon with you.” Looking at Jake he said, “You may retrieve your toys on the way out.”

Jake shrugged as if to say, “No big deal.”

“Sir, if you don’t mind I’d like to stay,” insisted Tommy.

Park looked at Jake, then back to Tommy. “It’s your associate who asked you to leave. Maybe you should have worked out the logistics before you came.”

“I’d like to stay,” said Tommy, defiantly looking at Jake.

“Tommy, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let me talk with Mr. Park alone. After the discussion, if he wants me to share our conversation I certainly will, but this matter is personal.”

“But I don’t want to leave,” said Tommy, attempting to regain a position of strength after being slighted by Jake.

“Tommy, your friend has a point. I will listen in private to what he has to say, then I will decide how much to share.”

As Tommy headed to the door, he turned briefly and corrected Park. “He’s a business associate, not a friend.”

Tommy still didn’t trust Jake and carrying the concealed weapon into Park’s home only fueled his anxiety. The young Korean criminal entrepreneur had spent more than a year cultivating a relationship with Park and he feared Jake was about to undo all that — perhaps intending to cut him out of the action.

As the two security guards escorted Tommy to the hallway, he glared at Jake. When the trio reached the doorway, the larger of the two guards said, “Mr. Park, we will be standing outside the door in case you need us.”

Park nodded without saying a word. As the door closed, Park gestured toward the bottle of Chung Ha, Korea’s most popular brand of cheongju, but Jake again declined the drink.