Little Saigon

Chapter 25

Just after sunrise Frye clambered Upward from a dream of dark water and headless bodies to the sound of someone moving across his living room. The old floor creaked; he could sense the weight and motion, the secretive tiptoe of the intruder.

He slipped from the damp sheets, pulled on a robe, and took Bennett’s .45 from under the bed. Backing along the hallway, he heard something rustle in the kitchen. His heart thrashed like a sparrow in a shopping bag. He held the gun to his chest, sidled into the living room, and drew down on the woman just as she turned. The briefcase fell from her hand.

“Jesus, Chuck!”

“Linda.”

“Don’t kill me. It’s just a divorce.”

Frye lowered the weapon, hands shaking. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”

“I guess not. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

He placed the .45 in the silverware drawer and slid it shut. “The pressures of modern life.”

“Pressure was never your specialty. But why the gun?”

“I had a break-in.” Frye felt cold, idiotic. He put on some water to boil and Linda went to the living room.

She sat on his lacerated couch. He watched her as he mixed the instant. Same auburn hair, same quick brown eyes, same sad mouth. She had a briefcase beside her. She lit a cigarette.

Frye sat down across from her. “You look good.”

“Thanks, Chuck.”

“Like New York?”

“It’s not for everyone.” Linda balanced the case on her legs now, swung open the top and pulled out a sheaf of legal papers. “It’s preliminary stuff. I’m not asking for any material settlement.”

“Half of nothing isn’t much.”

“No,” she said quietly. “Anything of mine you want?”

“It’s all still here. Take what you need.”

“I’m settled in. It’s yours.”

“Ken there yet?”

“He moved out two weeks ago. Got a job with Kidder Peabody. What happened to the couch?”

“Medflies. How’d it go in Detox Mansion?”

“I’ll never touch that shit again, if that’s what you mean. Anton bailed on me when I checked in.”

“I knew he would. They got him three weeks ago with half a kilo and two-hundred grand cash.”

“I know. I saw him yesterday for a minute. He’s at it again. I got out of there pretty fast.”

“Time for a quickie, though?”

Linda shut the briefcase top, snapped the latches. “I could have had my lawyers send this over, Chuck. But I thought we could maybe be okay just for a few minutes. You gotta just realize how crazy it all was. Anton and I... I was in the grip.”

“I’d have rather you paid him in cash.”

“We didn’t have any cash.”

The cigarette burned down in the ashtray. Frye signed the papers.

Linda wiped a big tear away, but another formed to replace it. “Baby, we messed it up so bad.”

“I know.”

“It all happened so fast, and now I’m a million miles away, and I don’t know anyone but Ken, I miss you, Chuck.”

He moved to hold her, but she stood, briefcase sliding to the floor with a thud. “No. I’m gutting this one out, I just have to cut it off clean, Chucky. In New York I’m Linda Stowe, and I got a job and a flat, and there’s nothing crazy inside me. Here, I’m just a mess of a girl.” She wiped her eyes again, futilely. She looked down at him. “I know you loved me when I was a mess of a girl, but I couldn’t keep that up. I got a life too, you know. Your idea was always to break things up just to watch the parts fly around. That white stuff got to me. You weren’t supposed to let that happen. It hits different people different ways. Just because you could take it or leave it, didn’t mean I could. Oh, hell, Chuck, we’ve been through this before. I should have let the lawyer do this.”

Frye felt like killing himself. In the silence that followed, he knew that everything she said was true, but it was far less a comfort than either of them needed.

“Did you ever tell the cops who the Mystery Maid was?” she asked.

“Nobody.”

“Not even your folks?”

“No.”

“Swirk find out in that stupid contest of his?”

“Nobody’d tell him. We had good friends.”

She sat back down, her composure thin as makeup. “Good. If Dad knew that was my ass all over the front page, he’d disown me. He really would.”

“Your secret’s safe.”

“You know, Chuck, one of the things I wanted you to do was bring out the worst in me. Then when you did, I freaked. We were borderline depraved, some of the stuff we did.”

“We had our moments.”

She smiled through a smear of mascara and tears, a little wickedness in her, even now. Linda was always game, he thought. In the end, a little too game with her dealer, a few too many nights with the sun coming up and the blues rolling in to claim her like a cold, dark tide. In the end, we all skipped the fun and went straight to the weird. We were all just willing victims of the age. The whole spoiled, rich, gutless, fucked-up generation.

Strange, he thought, it’s all part of another time now.

“You ever—?”

“No more.”

“That’s good. You were always stronger.” Linda picked up her cigarette butt and shook her head. “I hate these things. One habit for another. Well, I’ll go now. God’s truth is I wanted to see you again. It’s going to be a while, Chuck. When this is final, Ken and I are going—”

“I don’t want to hear about it.”

For one terrible moment he saw Linda steering her old convertible up the driveway, her hair flying and her Wayfarers on, saw her walking up to the cave-house looking so good, smiling at Denise. Then he saw her heading down a gray cold street in New York City, crying like she was now. There just has to be a better way, he thought, to treat the people we love. “I’m glad things are working out for you. In my own weird way, I’m always gonna love you, Linda.”

“Me too. Got another girl?”

Frye thought of Cristobel. “Not exactly.”

“I’m just shattered, about Li. Anything new?”

Frye told her everything he could, which wasn’t much. No sense, he thought, getting someone else involved. He expressed confidence in the FBI and Minh, but she must have heard his insincerity.

She wiped away a tear. “What about all the kids she brings over from the camps?”

“I guess they’ll have to wait.”

“Is that why they took her, to stop that?”

“I don’t think so.”

A blade of anger flashed in Linda’s lovely, red-rimmed eyes. “They should have thought about those children. She brought more of them over here than anyone else ever did. The time she took me to LAX to pick some up, it just took my heart away, these little rugrats pouring down the ramp and she was the one they ran to. She was the one they needed when they got here. The bastards who kidnapped her should have seen those faces. They might have thought twice about ruining all that. How are the last batch doing — Trinh and Ha and that little girl with the speech problem?”

“I think they’re all okay.”

Linda wiped her eyes with a tissue, then tossed it into the briefcase. “Li can make it through. She’s like a nail wrapped in silk and perfume. Benny’s probably taking this like a good Marine, isn’t he?”

“That’s Benny.”

“That’s the Fryes. You’re all just goddamned Marines, when it comes down to the way you live your lives. Give my love to them anyway.” She stood in the doorway, the bright morning sun and the tan hills of Laguna Canyon behind her shoulder. “Good-bye, Chuck. I wish... I wish we both could have settled for a little bit more.”

“Me too. Good-bye, Linda.”

Just before noon the phone rang. It was Julie at the Asian Wind. She was looking for Bennett. She’d called everywhere she could think of and couldn’t find him. “He asked me to call him if General Dien did anything out of the ordinary. He has set up a meeting in my private room. He often does his business here. He has requested the room for a party of four, just one hour from now.”

Frye hesitated a moment. “I don’t know where Benny is.”

“I’m not sure why he wanted me to keep an eye on the general. I only told him I would let him know. I trust your brother. The general, I do not.”

“How good is that one-way window of yours?”

“How did you know about that?”

“I found it when I was in the dressing room.”

“It’s very good. The FBI installed it eight years ago, because they believed that Communist agents were using my club as a meeting place. The light fixture on the ceiling contains a listening device. They used it a few times, then quit coming in.”

“Does Dien know about it?”

“Of course not. I’ve told no one that they were being spied on in my cabaret. I’d have taken it all out, but it would be expensive.”

Frye thought again. “How about if I take Benny’s place?”

“I wish you would.”

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

Frye sat on Li’s dressing room chair. Julie reached into the wardrobe and pushed the button. The wall panel slid back to expose the window.

Julie fiddled with a tape recorder. “Why do you want me to record this, Chuck?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m fishing, and I feel lucky.”

“If the general hears it, he would take severe revenge on me.”

“He’s the last one who’ll hear it.”

Ten minutes later, the party started. First into the room was one of Julie’s waiters, carrying menus. Then the general, followed by a thin, wolflike Asian in a gray suit.

“His name is Tòng,” whispered Julie. “But he is called Willie. In Saigon before the fall, he sold women. He tried to sell me.”

Then a chubby Vietnamese man, short, with the serene baby face often seen on deported religious leaders.

“Mr. Dun,” she said. “He is in the narcotics business. He lives in San Francisco. They are gangsters.”

Three young men in suits and sunglasses came in next. Each took a wall and crossed his arms; one carried a briefcase. Stanley Smith’s Gậy Trúc, thought Frye, in living color — the Vietnamese Mafia down from San Francisco.

Julie excused herself, checked her makeup, then slipped quietly out of the room. The microphone picked up the shuffle of feet and bodies, the sliding of chairs on the floor.

The last one in was Burke Parsons, cowboy hat, grin and a newspaper in his hand. “Well, ain’t this the cutest lil’ o’ room in Little Saigon? Dien, you know your way around here, I’ll give you that.” He looked straight at Frye, took off his hat, smoothed his hair.

Julie brought in a bottle of champagne and uncorked it. Willie the pimp rested a hand on her hip as she stood beside him, Dien jabbered something at her. She put the bottle back in its bucket, bowed slightly, and left.

The four principals sat, the three bodyguards stood at ease. After a round of small talk, attention drifted to Burke.

He raised his champagne glass and studied Willie, then Dun. “To success,” he said. “Thanks for coming by. I know y’all are busy men, so I’ll make this brief. You two gentlemen are in a good position. We’re all in good positions. You know what we got here in Orange County? We got good weather, hard-working people, and more hard-working people just dying to get in and live here. We got L.A. an hour north, we got more beaches than all get-out, and there’s plenty of money to keep the gears lubed up right.”

Frye checked the tape recorder. The red light was on, the tape turning slowly behind the plastic window.

“Now, gents,” Burke continued, “when you get a lot of people clamoring to live in the same place, you see your real-estate prices get high. I mean sky-high. This here county’s one of the prime hunks of ground in the world right now, and a little bit costs a bunch. You get out to the coast, you’re talking even higher.”

“How much per acre?” asked Dun, his pudgy hand pouring tea.

Parsons laughed. “It don’t sell by the acre, Dun, it sells by the foot. Varies. I drove past a crooked little patch of weeds in Laguna Beach yesterday, way up in the hills. Right on the road. Sixty by sixty. So slanted all you could build on it would be a billboard, and the askin’ price was a hundred thousand. That comes to a hair under twenty-eight dollars a foot. And that’s the lot, Mr. Dun — it ain’t got nothin’ on it but the for-sale sign.”

Dun nodded while Willie lit a cigarette. Dien watched them over the top of his champagne glass.

“There’s three things to remember here, gentlemen. One is that real estate’s the most valuable commodity we got. Second is that it’s getting more valuable as we sit here and drink. Third is that you don’t just walk in and buy the kind of land I’m talking about at a K-Mart.” Burke poured some more beer and leaned forward. “It takes more than just money to get it. Everyone’s got money — Columbian coke heads, Japanese bankers, Iranian princes. Think any Californians’ gonna sell them their coast? I’m not talking about a home here and a shop there, I’m talking about bulk. I’m talking consolidated acreage. Hell, you know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the best investment property God ever made. I’m talking about the Laguna Paradiso.”

Somehow, Frye thought, I knew that.

“It was in the paper today,” said Willie. “Solar-powered trolley take people to beach.”

Burke smiled and unfolded the newspaper he’d brought in. The front page of the business section had a feature on the Paradiso, sketches of the development, pictures of Edison and Bennett.

Dun smiled like a cherub. “How valuable is it, Mr. Parsons?”

Parsons leaned back. “Let me talk straight with you, Dun. You sell heroin. Well the Paradiso is better than a Burmese mountainside of poppies under government protection, a process plant, and a distribution network run by ex-CIA jocks. And you, Willie? You sell women and, heh, related services. Both are high-end items. But, over time, the Paradiso will get you more per square foot than your best-looking whore, and it don’t wear out. It just keeps gettin’ more and more valuable. You don’t even have to buy it fancy clothes, and it won’t pocket money behind your back. A commercial-retail coastal venture in Southern California is the safest, surest bet there is. We’ve got tax-abatement incentives, a soft coastal commission, a board of supervisors that’s plenty receptive to developers. We got people with money all over the place. They’ll move into the Paradiso soon as the paint dries.” Burke held up the paper again. “We’re talking condos that start at eight-hundred grand. Homes at a million plus. That’s first phase. A marina, shops, hotels. There’s no risk, the profits are solid. If — and I repeat if, it’s handled by the right people.”

“What profit?” asked Dun.

“Fifty percent over five years.”

Dun raised his pudgy hands. “I can get that at a bank, at the Sears Financial Network.”

“On millions in twenty-dollar bills that smell like dope? Try it, Mr. Dun. I’m talking about a risk-free, fifty percent return on cash money. Say between you and Willie here — ten million going in — fifteen coming out. It’s a lead-pipe cinch.”

Julie and a parade of waiters came in, bearing lunch. She fired up the sterno grill in the middle of the table and placed a skillet filled with fish and vegetables on it. The waiters arranged the side dishes. Dien waved them off. Julie bowed again and left.

“Not only that, but you’ll have the benefit of legitimacy — call it prestige. General Dien, can I speak frankly here about our arrangement?”

Dien nodded.

“The general has had the good sense to see the possibilities. He’s helped his country all he can. He’s raised a lot of money, and now he’s found the smart thing to do with it. He’s collected several million dollars from the refugees over the last five years to finance patriots trying to reclaim your homeland. The general’s helped them out, but he’s got some change left over. And he’s realized something that I’d like you to consider. Right now the biggest piece of ground you could get on this coast would be a house somewhere, and the neighbors wouldn’t even talk to you when you took out your trash. A year or two from now, people are going to warm up to you Vietnamese, and I mean all the way. Things’ll change when we get our POWs back, when people here get used to you. So, as investors in Elite Management — that’s me — you can get your money down and your foot in the door of Republic Investments — that’s my sister. That’s how you buy into the Paradiso.” Burke paused, pointing his chopsticks at Willie and Mr. Dun. “Hell, in good time, you can do a project on your own and come to us for financing. Imagine that.”

Imagine that, thought Frye. Burke’s laundry service. Won’t Benny and Pop like to know where their investors get the money.

“See,” Burke said, leaning forward again, “the general knows that by the time he gets that kind of prestige in this county, he’ll be in deep clover so far as really helping his people goes. I’m talking ways he couldn’t have even dreamed of ‘til now. I’m talking friends in business and government. I’m talking legitimate power, American-style. Getting it ain’t easy, but once you got it, you can pretty much do anything you like with it.”

Willie and Dun looked at each other. Burke leaned back in his chair. “Gentlemen, we’ve all worked too hard alone to stop now. Together, we can do very wonderful things. For all of us. But if you want the kind of success I’m talking about, you have to work inside the system. And gentlemen, I am the system.”

They ate. Burke cleaned his plate in five minutes, then piled on another helping. “Anyway, gentlemen, that’s my offer. Fifty percent over five, and we’ll take cash. My lawyers will draw up the papers in a jiffy. You’d both be legally incorporated as partners in Elite Management, and you’d both sit on the board with me. I’ll call the shots. I’m looking for ten million, round numbers. If you don’t want a piece of the action, I’ll go somewhere else. No shortage of backers for the Paradiso, I can tell you that.”

“Then why come to us?” asked Willie.

“Your assets have the desired bulk and liquidity,” said Burke. “In other words, you got cash and you got lots of it. And you’ll appreciate the silent aspect of the partnership, I think. I don’t want a bunch of whining bankers telling me how to run the Paradiso. You wouldn’t have to worry about it. I won’t let you worry about it. She’s my baby, and I’ll make her work.”

“Correction,” said Dun. “It is Bennett Frye’s baby, is it not?”

Burke drank off the rest of his champagne. “Don’t worry about Bennett Frye.”

Dien settled back in his chair. “What Mr. Parsons has failed to boast about is that your ten million would give Republic Investment a controlling interest in the Paradiso. He can arrange this limited stock purchase very quietly and quickly. It would leave the Fryes in a... diminished position.”

“Behind Bennett Frye’s back?” asked Dun.

“Bennett Frye has enough to worry about right now,” said Parsons.

Dun smiled. “And your sister has made much progress with Hanoi, in getting them to locate the missing Americans. They are willing to talk now. You are right, Mr. Parsons, a new era is coming between our countries. Perhaps we can all work together for mutual understanding, and profit.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dun.”

He stood and shook Burke’s hand. Willie did likewise. Their bodyguards moved to the door.

“You have a day to think this over,” said Burke. “You can reach me through General Dien.”

Frye watched them leave.

Dien and Parsons looked at each other.

“They’ll go with you,” said the general.

“They’re not stupid. You got it all?”

Dien nodded. His man came to the table, set the briefcase on top and opened it. Frye could see the neat stacks of bills, all hundreds. Beside them were three small bags and half-dozen bars of gold. “The jewels have been appraised; the gold bars are certified. The documents are in the bags. The value here is one million four hundred thousand dollars. With what I gave you last week, the total is three million. Are all the papers in order?”

“My lawyers say it’s a go. Your people would be proud of you, General. They thought they were buying back fucking Vietnam, but what they’re really getting is the Laguna Paradiso.”

“What I’m getting is the Paradiso, Mr. Parsons.”

“We’re both getting it. There’s plenty to go around.”

“Mr. Thieu will accompany you to your car, Mr. Parsons. So much petty theft in Little Saigon these days.”

They laughed. They shook hands. Parsons closed the briefcase and followed Dien out.

Frye sat back on Julie’s bed. She came in a few moments later, stopped the tape, and gave it to Frye. “I hope you found what you wanted.”

“Not exactly. They say anything on the way out?”

“I heard one phrase Mr. Dun said to Willie. ‘Dịp may hiếm có. Mày nghĩ sao?’ Roughly translated it means ‘A really big chance, what do you think?’”

They sat in the bedroom. Bennett shut the door and climbed onto the bed. It was dark and musty, a diluted wash of sunlight coming through the drawn curtains. His face receded into the shadows as Frye told him about “Rollie Dean Mack,” and the meeting between Burke, Dien, and the investors. “I’ve got it on tape. And don’t worry, I’m not going to lose it this time.”

Bennett’s face was locked, grim. “I always tried to keep Burke close, because I never really trusted him. I guess I didn’t keep him close enough.”

“What do we do?”

“We cut off Republic Investments as of right now, that’s what we do. I’ll tell Flaherty and the other attorneys not to tender any more shares of the Paradiso for the next week. Then I’ll take care of Burke. There’s no way I’m going to finance the Paradiso with the blood and sweat of the refugees.”

“What about Dien?”

“Burke can throw the money back in his face if it’s not good with me.”

“Willie and Dun?”

“If Burke takes their cash and can’t spend it, then they all get what they fucking deserve. See how Parsons likes having the Vietnamese mob after him.”

“I got to thinking when I watched Burke and Dien. Remember the man that Loc said approached him about stealing the tape of DeCord and Nguyen? The description fits Parsons, except for a mustache he could have faked. And the tape was delivered to the general. I think Parsons was Lawrence, and I’ll bet he delivered that tape to DeCord.”

Bennett just looked at him.

“Will DeCord try to take you down for gunrunning? Parsons would love it — it would get you out of the way while he tries to sell the Paradiso out from under you. Lucia would love it — it would satisfy Hanoi.”

“If I get Thach tonight, and he’ll release Li, DeCord won’t have to take me. I’ll quit. I’ll be done, Chuck.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll have my wife back, and Thach will be greased. That’s all I want out of life right now. Michel sen and Toibin were ordered back to Los Angeles this morning.”

“Why?”

“No explanation.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“Especially when they knew I was instructed to get this.” Bennett climbed off the bed, reached under it, and pulled out a suitcase. He flicked up the latches and opened it, The money was neatly stacked, bound by rubber bands. “Two million, total. The other half is in another suitcase under here.”

A strange smile crossed Bennett’s face. He checked his watch. “The timing is perfect. Thach’s just where he’s supposed to be. We’ll have him in seven hours. In nine or ten, we’ll have Li. I’ll never even have to touch this money.”