Stealing the Dragon

Chapter Forty

San Francisco, present day

Cape was driving down Battery when his cell phone rang. He pulled over next to a hydrant, aware that his driving was questionable even when he wasn’t talking on the phone.

He knew the reason for the call as soon as Beau’s voice came booming out of the tiny handset.

“Thought maybe you lost your phone,” he said, the phone vibrating. “Third time I called.”

“Sorry,” said Cape. “Meetings.”

“You got a digital camera?”

Seemed like a good idea at the time. “Sure,” said Cape, his tone guarded.

“Take any pictures lately?”

“Sure.”

“Mail any pictures lately?”

“You mean the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset, the Ferry Building, that sort of thing?”

“How about dead Chinese guys?”

“Oh, that picture,” said Cape. “How’d you know it was me?”

“The envelope had your return address on it.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about a sociopath on the loose.”

“I always said you were thoughtful,” replied Beau. “Matter of fact, that’s what I’ll say at your defense hearing. Your honor, he was stupid, irresponsible, had no regard for the law, but he was one thoughtful motherfucker.”

“I had second thoughts after sending it.”

“How ’bout second thoughts when you were taking it?” The phone almost jumped from Cape’s hand. “You ever hear don’t leave the scene of a crime?”

“Fuck you,” said Cape. “You ever hear of the anonymous tip?”

Cape could hear Beau sigh on the other end, a long whistling through the speaker.

“Where is he?” demanded Beau.

Cape blinked. “Who?”

“I’m not playin’ here,” said Beau. “This is my job we’re talking about. I get a picture of a dead man in the mail, I’m supposed to find the dead man and-this is the important part-find the dude who killed the dead man in the first place.”

“You don’t have the body,” Cape said stupidly.

“What am I saying here?”

“You saw the sign in the photo?” asked Cape. “The Chinese Merchants Benevolent Association, the plaque in the background?”

“Now you’re insulting me?”

Cape frowned. Of course Beau had seen the plaque-that’s why Cape framed the photo that way. Stir things up, get local cops involved again. For all the feds or the police knew, this murder was unrelated to the immigrant ship, so homicide would have to take the lead. And Cape’s real motivation-get the cops talking to Harold Yan, someone with influence in Chinatown who could pull a few strings. Get someone with power to take an interest in solving this case.

“You still there?” Beau’s tone was insistent.

“You talked to Yan?” Cape asked, feeling the answer forming in the pit of his stomach.

“Busy man,” said Beau. “But polite as can be.”

“He never saw the body?”

“Didn’t recognize the guy, neither,” said Beau. “’Course, he thinks we have the body and were just lookin’ for an ID-I’m not advertising a missing body just yet.”

“You press him?”

“You crazy?” asked Beau. “No, wait-let me rephrase that. It didn’t seem prudent to suggest to Harold Yan, the mayoral candidate, that he might be full of shit.”

“Fuck me,” muttered Cape.

“What?” said Beau.

“Nothing,” said Cape, a little too quickly.

“OK, let’s try again,” said Beau deliberately. “Where did the body come from?”

“I found it.”

“Where?”

“In my trunk.”

“Just like that,” said Beau. “Next to the spare tire.”

“Next to the jack, actually. He was on top of the spare.”

“Damn, that changes everything,” said Beau. “Where were you?”

“Talking to Freddie Wang.”

“A-ha.”

“A-ha?”

“You bet your ass, a-ha,” replied Beau. “Now we’re gettin’ somewhere.”

“We are?”

“You’ve seen him before?”

“Yeah. At Freddie’s, maybe ten, fifteen minutes before I left.”

“Perfect,” said Beau. “Gives me someone to talk to-that’s what good police work is, you know. Talkin’ to people, till somebody says something stupid.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I killed him?” said Cape, sounding a little wounded.

“Why? Did you?”

“No.”

“Then why should I ask?”

Cape didn’t have an answer to that.

Beau said, “You’re gonna have to come in and make a statement.”

“Figured as much.”

“Tonight.”

“OK,” said Cape. “Later, though, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Was stupid to move the body,” said Beau.

“I was trying to get your attention.”

“Well, ’less you want to lose your license, you might want to leave that part out.”

“Got it.”

“Guess I don’t need to ask why you were talkin’ to Freddie?”

“Uh-uh,” said Cape.

“How’s that going?”

“I think someone’s trying to kill me,” said Cape.

“Good,” replied Beau. “Saves me the trouble.”

Then he hung up.