Private Beijing

Chapter 35

Justine and Sci were in the tech lab at Private New York, watching Mo-bot analyze a data set she’d pulled from the cell mast near the house where Billy Bostic and his brother had been found. Rafael had heard about the murders on the local news and had joined them.

Justine had always thought the handsome Spaniard something of a good-time socialite, but the attack on Jessie and Lewis, the discovery of explosives at Private, and now this double homicide had brought out a different side to him. He leant against the desk, dark and brooding, smartly dressed as ever in a three-piece suit. His initial shock and grief had given way to somber resolve, and this was reflected in his switch back to more formal attire.

Justine’s phone rang and she was relieved to see it was Jack calling.

“Hey,” she said. “How are you?”

“Okay,” he replied. “You?”

“Same. We think we found the guy who sourced the detonators for the bombs in the New York office.”

“He talking?” Jack asked.

“Not really. He’s dead. His brother too. Looks like a professional hit.”

Jack exhaled sharply.

“Mo-bot is working on something to try and track the killer.”

“We ran into more heat here,” Jack revealed. “Someone just tried to kill one of our clients. Molly Tan. She hired us to check out David Zhou. Turns out someone blackmailed her into engaging Private. The whole case was a set-up.”

“Are you serious?” Justine exclaimed.

“Deadly. Zhang Daiyu recognized one of the men from her time with Beijing PD. His name was Wang Yichen—”

Justine cut him off. “Was?”

“He’s dead now,” Jack replied. “Zhang Daiyu told me he was a low-level enforcer. Street muscle for an underworld kingpin called Liu Bao.”

“You want us to dig into this guy? See what we can find?” Justine asked.

“Yeah. The team here is on it, but let’s see if there is any international intel on Liu,” Jack replied. “I’m also going to send you photos of a tattoo. Two dragons wrapped around a larger one. The guy who shot at Zhang Daiyu and me, and planted the bombs in the Beijing office, had one, and so did the two men who attacked Molly Tan and her family. Zhang Daiyu doesn’t recognize it, so we’ve got the team here looking into it...”

“... And you want us to see if it’s showed up in any FBI or Interpol reports,” Justine finished his sentence.

“Exactly,” he replied.

“We’ll get on it as soon as I have the photos,” she assured him.

“So we’ve got Private being targeted on two continents by assailants with similar MOs. I wonder if the similarities extend to the way they set us up?”

“You think maybe the client who engaged us to investigate Ivor Yeadon was also coerced?” Justine asked, referring to the Wall Street financier Jessie and Lewis had been surveilling.

“Maybe,” Jack responded. “It’s worth checking out.”

“Will do,” Justine said. “You be careful, Jack. Anyone who’s prepared to kill a family—”

“Won’t think twice about a war dog like me,” he interrupted. “I’ll be careful. You too.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” he replied, before hanging up.

“Jack?” Sci asked. “How is he?”

Justine nodded. “He’s okay. He wants us to talk to the client who engaged us to investigate Ivor Yeadon.” She turned to Rafael. “Who was it?”

“His name is Lawrence Finch. I’ve spoken to him already. There’s nothing unusual about him. He’s a dead end.”

“I might just check him out again,” Justine said. “See if any of our new information sparks anything.”

Rafael nodded slowly and looked as though he was about to respond, but Mo-bot leant back in her chair and pointed at one of the three monitors in front of her.

“There we go.”

“There we go what?” Sci asked.

“So I ran the cell-mast data for all phones pinged in the area around Howard Avenue, between nine and eleven p.m., which, based on the abandoned meal and the state of the Bostics’ bodies, is when Sci estimates the shooting took place,” Mo-bot explained, obviously quite pleased with herself.

“I then cross-referenced with the masts near the apartment where Jessie and Lewis were shot and with the mast nearest this building a week prior to the discovery of the bombs. There is only one phone that’s been to all three places during those times.”

Justine looked at the screen Mo-bot was pointing to and realized it showed a birds-eye view of a location. There was a street, a building, and a little flashing beacon marking the position of the cell phone in question.

“Even the most ruthless killer can be careless,” Mo-bot remarked. “And no one would expect anyone to do this kind of analysis. Given the fact the phone has kept moving after the Bostics’ deaths, we can safely assume it doesn’t belong to them.”

“You’re a superstar,” Sci remarked.

“It was your idea,” she replied.

“When the mutual admiration fest is over, shall we figure out what we’re going to do?” Justine said.

“I think we should check out whoever owns this phone,” Rafael suggested. “We don’t have enough to involve the police. There’s no probable cause. Could be coincidental.”

Sci nodded. “It’s circumstantial so far. Any decent attorney could argue this person’s presence at the locations was pure coincidence. But in our experience, how likely is that?”

“I say we check it out and see if we can get any other evidence,” Rafael said.

The lawyer wasn’t part of the investigative team, but his instincts were good.

Justine nodded. “You and Sci find this phone and identify its owner,” she told Mo-bot. “I’m going to talk to our client, Lawrence Finch, and find out why he engaged us to investigate Ivor Yeadon.”

“You don’t want us to tag along?” Mo-bot asked.

“I think the dream team already has their hands full.” Justine smiled, and got replies in kind from Sci and Mo-bot.

“I’ll help them, Justine,” Rafael suggested. “I want to help bring this guy to justice.”

They all exchanged nods.

“Okay,” Mo-bot said. “Let’s go see if we can catch a killer.”