Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [classic children's novels txt] 📗

It was dark and raining heavily by the time we arrived. There were only a few cars in the lot, reflecting wet light and making the place look desolate. I parked right outside, and we sprinted for the door. The place was practically empty. We sat by the window and ordered a couple of Outlaw Ribeyes and a couple of beers.

She spoke suddenly.

“It doesn’t follow absolutely categorically, but it is a probability that if the Triads want to kill Mick, it’s because they did not kill Nelson. Because the reason they want to kill Mick is because he did not facilitate the hit on Nelson, as he had promised to do.”

“That makes sense. So what we’re saying is that right now our prime suspect is Mick?”

Our orders arrived with the beers, and we were both silent while we cut into the steaks and took our first bite. They were tender, succulent, and delicious. She said, “See? This is something I could get intense about.” She took another bite and leaned back in her chair. “Mick or the Sureños. But we shouldn’t discount the Chinese yet. Or the Mob for that matter. Pro is a subtle son of a bitch, and he could be playing us. And as for the Triads, Mick could have played them and they still managed to kill Nelson. They are very good at what they do.”

“Agreed.”

We ate in silence for a little longer. Then she asked, “Where do we go from here?”

“Ten years ago the Triad’s top hit man was Chen ‘Ivories’ Zhu. We need to know where he is now. We need to talk to him. We also need to talk to the first responders at the scene that night. Also…” I sank back in my chair. “It’s going to be hard going, but we need to talk to Nelson’s family, his cousins’ families. We need some background. We could be barking entirely up the wrong tree.”

“They won’t talk to us.”

“We have to try. His mother, his sisters, aunts and uncles. There will be hostility, but these are the people who know the most. Did he have a girlfriend? Did he confide in her? We have to get in there.”

She watched me a while. “What about the captain, Stone? She’s supposed to be a friend of Mick’s.”

I didn’t say anything. I just shook my head.

The rain had eased. We made our way out to the car through the dark drizzle, over the liquid light of the puddles. Half an hour later, I dropped her at her apartment. Before she got out, I said, “In the morning I’ll try to track down Chen Zhu. You draw up a list of Nelson’s immediate family.”

She gave a funny smile and said, “You got it, partner.”

Six

Not much happened the next day. Dehan was busy compiling a list of Nelson’s family and close friends, and I found out that Chen Zhu was doing twenty to life in Attica. I made the call to arrange to visit him in a couple of days and then sat chewing my lip and thinking about some gossip I’d heard from some of the guys a few years back.

Dehan joined me at lunchtime and dropped into the chair opposite.

“I got a list. It’s pretty comprehensive. His mother. His dad was killed in a drive-by when he was a baby. He was pretty much raised by two uncles and his mom. The uncles were both in a local gang affiliated to the Ángeles. His male cousins, all sons of the two uncles, were the ones who were killed that night. Mother has two sisters, both married but with daughters or baby sons.”

“How did you get this?”

“I said I was a reporter for the Voz de Chihuahua, a Marxist paper reporting on how Latinos are exploited and denigrated in the imperialist U.S.A.”

I nodded. “I could never do that.”

“Look at you. You’re an Anglo-Saxon. You have gringo written all over you.”

“No, I mean my conscience would not allow me.”

“Yeah? I used to have one of them. It got mugged.”

“Girlfriends?”

“There was talk of a wife. Others said a girlfriend. Others said it was several girlfriends. Either way they seem to have been putillas and just passing through. There was also talk that he kept Mick supplied with young Latina girls. It seems he had a liking for them.”

“That’s good. In fact it is so good I am going to take you out tonight.”

“Dancing?”

“Why not. First we’ll have some dinner, and then we’ll go dancing.”

“Why do I get the feeling this is a stakeout?”

I laughed and pointed at her. “You are good! You are very good!”

We were at the corner of Central Park West and Ninety-Seventh. It was eleven thirty at night, and the dim light from the streetlights was mottled and filtered through the leaves of the plane trees. Or maybe they were chestnuts. We were a short way from the Crenshaw Church. It had a sinister, gothic look silhouetted against the burnt-orange glow of the clouds. An occasional raindrop would splat liquid amber light on the windshield. There was something sudden yet indecisive about it, like a drunk who makes up his mind to leave and then falls asleep at the bar.

The wipers squeaked and removed the latest drop.

To our right was a private parking lot fringed by gardens that formed a kind of courtyard outside the apartment block we were watching. It was still and quiet. Dehan had her window open a few inches.

“This is a pretty long shot, Stone.”

“You saw what the guy in Yonkers was prepared to do. If we’re going to get Zhu to open up, we need more than a smile and ‘please.’”

“What if he doesn’t show?”

“If what I was told is true, he’ll show.”

“How—”

I cut her off. “How reliable? Pretty