Counterfeit Lies

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Good to his word, Bill Holodnak notified his FBI superiors about what he knew of the attack at Park’s residence. Charles Hafner, still smarting from the confrontation with Jake, had just gotten to his car with Wilson when the call came in from Holodnak. He turned on the speaker so the CIA officer could hear the report from the wire room.

Immediately after receiving the report and pressing END CALL on the keypad, he turned to Wilson and said, “You want to go see Park?”

“How are you going to make that happen?” Wilson asked.

“I know the San Marino chief of police. He’s a graduate of the FBI National Academy.”

The ten-week school in Quantico, Virginia, for state and local police administrators was the product of J. Edgar Hoover’s efforts to enhance law enforcement professionalism throughout the United States. The coveted school provided graduate-level studies in criminal justice and was a great resume booster for any law enforcement official. On a more practical level it encouraged cooperation between the FBI and local law enforcement with a common bond of training.

The FBI hierarchy in L.A. frequently socialized with National Academy graduates in the region. When time was of the essence, this networking bridged bureaucratic obstacles.

The CIA operative considered the offer for a moment and said, “I don’t want our respective bosses in Washington to get their knickers in a knot over this, but if you can get us in without a lot of fanfare, we might be able to get to the bottom of what Park is doing with the Supernotes and make ’em all happy back in D.C.”

Hafner immediately dialed the chief and explained that he and a colleague wanted to go to the crime scene at Park’s residence on a “not to interfere basis” and see for themselves whether there were any connections to a matter of national security.

The local lawman immediately agreed and said that a Lieutenant Jon Osborne, one of his department’s senior detectives, would meet Hafner at the entrance to the residence.

Hafner and Wilson arrived about ten minutes after Jake. Lieutenant Osborne was waiting at the gate as the duo exited Hafner’s car. He left the blue lights hidden in the grille flashing for effect.

Hafner explained the situation, detailing the FBI’s interest in Park but not mentioning the Supernotes, Jake’s undercover role, or providing the true identity of Wilson. Since the detective received his marching orders directly from the chief, he was only too eager to support the FBI. Privately, the detective hoped his assistance might lead to an appointment to the career-enhancing National Academy.

The three men walked up the driveway to the front door and were immediately granted access. The game was on as soon as Osborne entered the house accompanied by the ASAC and the CIA official.

Jake immediately spied the new arrivals and was stunned Hafner and Wilson would intrude in the midst of his undercover operation.

Lieutenant Osborne, tall and thin, flashed his badge. “Mr. Park, I’m Lieutenant Osborne. I’m a detective with the San Marino Police Department. You want to tell us what happened here?”

Park was hardly impressed by the lieutenant but maintained his humble posture, walking slowly back to his chair and taking a seat. “I’ve spoken to your other detectives. I’ve already told them. Men broke in and tried to rob me.”

Osborne was attempting to act efficient and commanding. “We know that. We need a description of the men who broke in.”

Park replied meekly, “They were wearing masks.”

“How many?”

With a slight tone of annoyance Park said, “I’ve already told your men, at least five.”

“At least?” asked Osborne. “You don’t know for sure?”

Park lifted his head slowly and looked the police lieutenant in the eye. “I was in my office. I only saw five. One is lying dead in my study.”

An air of mistrust flooded the room, with Park playing the frightened immigrant to perfection. The lieutenant said, “Good thing the neighbors called the police. I’m not sure you would have reported this.”

Park became more conciliatory. “Lieutenant, my friend has been killed, as has one of my security personnel. Both died protecting me from just this type of intrusion. If I could help I would. Please, the men wore masks and gloves. There is nothing more I can tell you.”

The police detective was polite but firm. “Sir, would you accompany us to your office?”

Park nodded and slowly rose from his seat. He grabbed Jake’s arm more for show than need but Jake could tell the events of the evening had taken a physical as well as emotional toll on the crime boss.

The lieutenant, Hafner, and Wilson followed behind Jake and Park, Hafner grunting as if upset it was taking the elderly Korean so long to make his way down the hallway to the study.

When they entered, Jake immediately spotted two more bodies covered with sheets. The coroner’s team was preparing to remove the deceased to the county morgue on North Mission Road. Routine autopsies would be performed but an armchair detective could identify the cause of death. Evidence, however, in the form of bullets and fragments would be preserved in the hopes at some point they could be matched to a weapon and the shooter.

The evidence technicians were photographing the crime scene and attempting to dig spent rounds out of the walls and ceiling. Cartridge casings were scattered throughout the floor and cardboard numbers were placed by each object, providing reference for the crime-scene photographs.

The lieutenant lifted the sheet of the intruder, lying in a large pool of dark blood where the twentysomething man had bled out from his wounds. He was dressed in black but Jake was surprised by his appearance. The dark curly hair and full beard were matted from the sweat and mask but the man was obviously Middle Eastern, not Asian as Jake expected.

“Do you know this man?” asked the lieutenant.

Park looked at Jake before answering. He put his head down as if in submission and said quietly, “He is one of the men who broke into my house.”

“We know that,” said the lieutenant, exasperated. “Did you ever see him prior to this evening?”

Park shook his head as he took a seat. “I have never seen this man before.”

Everyone’s attention turned to the two coroner assistants who removed the sheet and carefully placed Tommy in a black body bag. As they lifted the limp body onto the gurney, Charles Hafner, the FBI ASAC, chose that moment to insert himself into the investigation.

Hafner bellowed for all to hear, “Park, it’s no secret who and what you are. Who was behind this? Rivals seeking to eliminate the competition?”

Park remained humble, his head lowered, though Jake noted a slight edge to the response. “I am a businessman.”

Hafner took a step forward. “You and I both know that’s a lie. It’s either stupidity or guts to do this to a man like you. What did they want? They didn’t just break in here for grins and giggles.”

Park kept his head down in either genuine grief or an effort to hide his contempt and anger. “I do not know why they broke in here. They left without taking anything.”

Hafner moved in closer to the seated crime boss. “Is that so? Mind if we look around. Have you checked the entire house? Maybe you should accompany us on a walk through the house and check out every room. Maybe something important is missing and you just didn’t look close enough.”

“They took nothing.”

“You live alone? This is a pretty big house.” Derision was evident in the question.

“I live with my wife, my daughter, and my granddaughter.”

“We know your wife went to the hospital but I haven’t seen your daughter or granddaughter. Where are they?” asked Hafner.

Park said nothing.

Hafner continued to plow ahead. “Where are they tonight? Were they home when this happened? It’s late and it seems strange they aren’t here. Come on, Park, tell us what really happened.”

Jake’s face reddened and his temper was about to crest. He was at his best in the midst of chaos. He calmed in a shootout. He almost welcomed commotion and disorder. But Hafner, the bureaucratic bumbler, was on the verge of wrecking the entire operation.

Though Jake worked at staying cool he decided an act of honor would enhance his credibility with Park; he sprang for the attack. “It’s Mr. Park to you and he told you all he can. This man has just been through a home invasion. His friend and an employee were killed. His wife was attacked. With the property taxes he pays you’d think the police could protect him. I’d suggest you hit the streets and try to find who did this. Or is it just easier to harass the victim? You guys are amazing.”

Hafner was staggered. He wasn’t expecting his subordinate to intervene, but with the ASAC’s lack of real investigative experience, maybe any move the undercover agent made would have come as a surprise. He held up his hand to object and said, “Listen, Jake…”

The idiot blew it!

Hafner was large on volume and weak on sense. No one had addressed the undercover agent by a first name. Park had his head down and didn’t react to the gaffe.

Jake pounced on the mistake, interrupting the ASAC, hoping his theatrics would mask Hafner’s blunder. “You think you can waltz in here and challenge this man’s integrity. I’m assuming you got lucky and found that badge in the first Cracker Jack box you opened. Armed and ignorant is a horrible combination.”

Hafner was overmatched but, swallowing his pride, he played the role. “Who are you? Has anyone checked this man’s ID?”

Jake whipped out his wallet and shoved his driver’s license into Hafner’s face. The undercover agent was into his role and pushed back hard, real anger spilling over. “Here’s my ID! Now how about your badge number? Is this where my tax dollars go, to pay your salary? I think it’s time you and your people left. If you have any further questions, send someone else tomorrow. Mr. Park answered your questions the best he could. He has tried to cooperate. Maybe your next questions should be directed to his attorney. Is this the way you conduct a murder investigation? I happen to know Mr. Park is a close friend of the mayor. With a phone call or two I’m sure by this time next week all of you will be worrying about parking ticket quotas.”

The lieutenant, unaware of Jake’s undercover capacity, jumped between Hafner and the agent. As a patrolman he had deescalated enough domestic disturbance calls to understand the importance of a timely intervention. “Maybe he’s right. We’ll give Mr. Park a chance to rest. We’ll be back tomorrow, sir.”

With a weak smile, Park nodded as everyone began to slowly exit the room. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”