Counterfeit Lies

CHAPTER FIFTY

The Sunday lunch crowd at the restaurant was still an hour or so away. Candy sat at the far end of the bar eating a kimchee beef burrito, Seoul’s answer to Southern California fusion. Her iced tea, sweetened with three packets of Splenda, did little to soften her mood. Kareem was behind the bar arranging glasses, trying to coax a smile, but Candy was in no mood to dispense favors.

“There no reason to kill Tommy,” whispered Candy in anger.

“He fought back,” protested Kareem quietly.

“You and Jabari broke into Park’s home while Tommy there. What did you expect him to do? Tommy worship Park and constantly seek his favor. Of course he protect him. If Tommy had fault, it was loyalty. I see that in all he do.”

“If he had a fault it was committing a felony a day,” said Kareem under his breath so as not to incur further wrath from Candy. “We lost Jabari, too.”

After taking another bite of the burrito, Candy sneered, “Your friend knew he taking risk when he take assignment. Besides, doesn’t this qualify him for virgins?”

“I wish you understood,” said Kareem.

“Understood what? You commit crime hoping to make profit. Isn’t that why most people commit crimes?”

“I did it for the cause.”

“Yeah, I hear you talk about mission, faith, and cause but maybe I have cause, too.”

“I wish my cause was your cause.”

“I have my own jihad,” she said with a fake smile.

Kareem shook his head and with resignation in his voice said, “Your brother was never interested in the faith. I tried to convince him of its value but he never wanted to listen. Maybe if he adopted our ways he wouldn’t still be sitting in prison.”

“My brother and I have lot in common. We never want anyone or anything to interfere with good times.”

“Was Tommy that important to you?”

“He was convenient but murder just brings more police.”

“You don’t think kidnapping interests them?” asked Kareem, knowing the cops take the crime very seriously and often call in the FBI.

“As I understand, Park never report kidnapping.”

Kareem nodded, continuing his chores behind the bar. “I’m sorry Tommy was killed.”

Candy dismissed the apology with several more bites. Finishing lunch, she took the last sip of her iced tea. Grabbing the dishes to return them to the kitchen, she said, “I be back later. I check on things and continue clean up your mess from last night. Have one of girls seat customers.”

Kareem continued his work behind the bar preparing for the lunch crowd. Shortly after Candy left, he happened to look to the hallway to see Mohammed standing in the shadows and quickly made his way to the terrorist leader.

Hidden in the darkened passageway, Mohammed whispered, “It did not go well last night.”

“The kidnapping was successful but we lost a faithful soldier,” said Kareem, fearful Mohammed was upset.

Mohammed remained calm, his face expressionless. “He died for the jihad. He is being rewarded in the next life. It was a good plan. I should have given you more men, anticipating others might be in the house.”

Kareem was afraid to lie to his mentor. “I changed the plan at the last minute.”

“How?”

Kareem screwed up his courage, bracing for criticism. “We saw the security people leave just as we suspected they would, but then Tommy, Candy’s friend, came back unexpectedly. When the gate opened I saw it as an opportunity to breach the alarm system without any effort. I didn’t think Tommy would be a problem.”

“You were wrong.”

“Yes, I was.”

Mohammed maintained his stoicism. “It is my fault. I should have been there with you. Rostam said as much when I made the decision to proceed.”

“Rostam did not want us to do this, did he?” said Kareem, looking his mentor in the eye.

“No,” Mohammed admitted. “He believes the promises of our brothers in Beirut — that this new arrangement will assure us of funds for jihad. But Rostam is not responsible for paying our debts; I am. The expenses of bringing fighters here from the Bekaa Valley, Syria, Chechnya, and Iraq have been great. Our brothers in Beirut may indeed come through in the future. But this operation is something we can control. We will be more careful in the future. Is everything still a go for the rest of the plan?”

Kareem nodded.

Before exiting down the hallway and heading back to the mosque, Mohammed said, “As Allah wills, we shall succeed.”

He knew it was high risk, but if he was to learn anything about Gabe, Jenny, and Gracie, he would have to cover some familiar ground. Jake parked the Range Rover across the street from Henry Yeong’s restaurant and jaywalked through traffic to the front door.

Business was less than brisk. There were just six patrons in the dining room and only two people at the far end of the bar. As he climbed onto a stool the burley bartender sauntered over, less than enthusiastic to see the return of his only peckerwood customer.

“Yeah,” said Kareem, wiping off the area in front of Jake.

“Give me a Light.”

The ex-con drew a Bud Light from the tap.

“Is Candy around?”

“Nope, she left a half hour ago. I doubt if she returns today. Her boyfriend got capped last night.”

Jake focused on the bartender, who wouldn’t return the look. “Tommy was my friend, too.”

“So you mourn him by drinking a beer before noon?” said Kareem as he reached for a basket of peanuts and slid it in front of his customer.

“I mourn in my own way. Maybe when you catch a cold, I’ll hoist one to you as well. Heard anything about what happened?”

Kareem shrugged and opened his hands, feigning innocence. “Should I?”

“According to the news, it was a home invasion. I thought maybe you would have heard something.”

The bartender shook his head. “Nada. I just pour. In case you haven’t noticed, business isn’t all that great today and this is Mid-Wilshire, not San Marino.”

“Yeah, but you listen and this is Koreatown. And as you probably know, Tommy and I delivered goods for your boss and Mr. Park. Whoever did this killed my friend and snatched Mr. Park’s daughter and granddaughter — and all of them just happen to be Korean.”

“Is that so?”

“If you come up with anything I’ll make it worth your while.”

Kareem offered a wicked smile. “My loyalties don’t run too deep. If I hear anything I’ll let you know and drop a dime.”

Jake laughed. “You must have been away a long time; it’s a quarter now.”

He didn’t finish the beer but threw a five on the bar. As Jake headed to the front door, he grabbed a couple of pieces of candy from the bowl on the hostess stand.