Stealing the Dragon

Chapter Eleven

San Francisco, present day

Cape called Beau the next morning and said he was hoping to see Sally later that day. He didn’t mention that he’d already tried to see Sally the night before, so technically he wasn’t lying. He really did hope to see Sally later in the day-he just didn’t think he would.

“So why are you calling?” asked Beau. “To tell me you’re gonna call later?” Cape thought he heard a mildly suspicious tone in his friend’s voice. “Since when did you become so responsible?”

“I need someone to talk to,” replied Cape.

“You want the name of my therapist?”

“About the case,” said Cape. “I want to talk about the case.”

“What case?” asked Beau. “I don’t have a case anymore, remember?”

Cape sighed, realizing that asking Beau for help this week might be a bad idea. “The boat,” he said. “I want to talk about the boat.”

“You mean the ship.”

“Whatever.”

“OK, talk to me,” replied Beau, suspicion turning to certainty. “But since you haven’t talked to Sally, I’m not sure what there is to talk about.”

“Look,” replied Cape, “you’re saying you have a hunch, that Sally might know something.”

“Go on,” said Beau, his voice noncommittal.

“So I’m checking it out,” said Cape. “You already said there would be more leads than you and Vinnie could handle, not to mention the feds.”

“Don’t mention the feds,” groaned Beau.

Cape ignored him. “So I want to get in front of this thing.”

There was a long pause, and neither one spoke. Finally, Beau broke the silence with a loud sigh into the phone.

“You’re gonna talk to Sally,” said Beau. A statement, not a question.

“Absolutely,” said Cape. Well, eventually, with any luck, if she hasn’t left town, and if she’s still alive. “Fair enough,” he said. “But will you help me?”

“What do you want to know?”

“I want to talk to someone who was on the ship,” said Cape.

Beau paused again before answering.

“If I were you,” he said, “I’d talk to a guy named Mitch Yeung.”

“Who’s he?”

“A cop,” replied Beau. “A good one. He and I came up together at the Academy.”

“I thought you started your career in L.A.”

“So did Mitch,” said Beau. “Transferred just a few months ago-wife’s mom lives in San Francisco. He’s been working Narcotics, my old division. But they’ve reassigned him for this investigation. In case you missed his last name, Mitch is Chinese, first generation. He’s helping the feds interview the refugees.”

“And since he’s new to the department…” began Cape.

“Right.” Beau finished the thought. “Even if there is ‘widespread corruption,’ as the paper claimed today, it probably don’t apply to a new guy like Mitch. So he’s free of suspicion, as far as Management Control is concerned, which makes the feds a little less paranoid about having him around.”

“What’s Management Control?”

“Sorry,” said Beau. “That’s the new name for Internal Affairs-they’re workin’ on their image.”

“You’re kidding.”

“They got new stationery and everything.”

“My tax dollars at work.”

“You bet,” said Beau. “But no matter who you ask, Mitch is rock solid.”

“Good enough,” said Cape. “You’ll call him?”

“Yeah,” replied Beau. “But don’t waste the man’s time.”

“I work fast.”

“I hope so,” replied Beau.

Me, too, thought Cape.