CHAPTER 63

I had been about to dial 911 when I thought better of it. Instead I called Special Agent Neil Slauson, and he and his team arrived within ten minutes. Down the street another FBI SWAT team took down Lok Sun, aka the Pharmacist, and four of his men at the abandoned brothel they’d been watching since Audra informed Slauson of Lok Sun’s whereabouts.

I told Slauson nearly everything that had transpired inside Tam’s bar after telling Scott to keep his mouth shut. My only real concern was the guns. I didn’t know where they came from and I didn’t want to know. Luckily, after telling him about Scott’s being on parole in New York, neither did Neil Slauson.

Hours later, as the sun rose over Chinatown, Slauson informed me that Thomas S. Duran, aka Orlando Masonet, had been captured.

“He wasn’t even on the island when you were talking to him,” Slauson said. “He had indeed given Jansen the slip and was already in his jet heading west. Of course, no flight plan was filed, but it appears he was headed to Hong Kong.”

“How did you catch him?” I said.

“Immediately after you called me, I contacted the FAA. Turns out, a commercial airline pilot had just received a warning via his collision-avoidance system. Air traffic control requested that the pilot of the unidentified aircraft squawk IDENT, but the pilot failed to respond. When I got off the phone with the FAA, I contacted a friend who is a lieutenant colonel at Hickam Air Force Base. Hickam scrambled two fighter jets to escort the unidentified aircraft back to Oahu. Said craft held none other than Thomas Duran, his wife, Holly, and a Chinese crew.”

I swallowed hard as I considered the implications of Orlando Masonet’s remaining at large. If not for Slauson’s quick thinking, Audra, Scott, Iryna—none of us would ever feel safe again.

I took a deep breath. “You have enough to convict Lok Sun?”

Slauson frowned. “Nothing found at the abandoned brothel implicates Lok Sun in Oksana Sutin’s murder, or the attempted murder of AUSA Karras.”

“But you have Zhi Zhu,” I said. “You have Zhi Zhu’s testimony.”

Slauson shook his head. “Zhi Zhu was found dead just over an hour ago. The ME suggests suicide, but we won’t know for sure until the autopsy.”

My head sank into my chest. “Now that I’ve rested my case in Turi Ahina’s trial,” I said softly, “can you at least tell me whether you’re going after the dirty cops in the Honolulu Police Department?”

“There’s an open investigation,” Slauson said cryptically.

I looked him in the eyes. “You could have testified.”

Slauson shook his head again. “You wouldn’t have wanted that, Counselor.”

“You weren’t investigating Kanoa Bristol?”

“Oh, we were investigating Kanoa Bristol. In fact, at the time of the shooting, the agent you met in my office, Wendy Chan, had been undercover, posing as a single mom with kids at the school Bristol’s own children were attending.”

“And?”

“And that’s all I can tell you, Counselor.”

*   *   *

A few minutes later, ducking through the crowd of agents, I pulled Scott aside. “So tell me, Scott, how did you know Lian was going to turn on that son of a bitch?”

“She’s my massage therapist.”

“You mean she jerked you off a few times.”

“Whatever.” He lowered his head and spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone. “Look, I’m all right with the hand-job part, but the massage itself makes me kind of uncomfortable. So, Lian and I got to talking. Around my seventh or eighth visit—”

“Seventh or eighth? Jesus, Scott, how many times have you been there?”

He shrugged. “Four or five times a week since I got here. Anyway, Lian told me all about this son of a bitch who owned a bar down the street, how he likes to smack her around and shit. So I offered to take care of him. She said no, she wouldn’t let me go near him. So I didn’t, though I thought about it a lot.” Scott glanced over his shoulder to make sure no agents were within earshot. “So last night, soon as I saw her, I grabbed her. And I said in her ear, ‘Is that the guy?’ She nodded. Soon as she did, I knew we were getting out of there alive. So when the time came, I handed her the knife and said, ‘Run straight at the motherfucker like you’re running for help and then bury the blade in his throat.’”

I reached around and felt the bulge at the base of my neck. No more professional massages for me. Masseuses were just too dangerous these days.

Up the street I spotted Flan’s jalopy pull over to the curb. Jake exited the passenger side and hurried along the sidewalk. Twice he was grabbed by an agent, twice he pushed the agent aside.

“Kevin!” he shouted. “Kevin!”

Jake’s face was pale as paste, his eyes bloodshot. When he reached me, he grabbed me by my arms as if to make sure I wasn’t a hallucination. “The local news stations are reporting that you’re dead.”

I thought about it, then shook my head. “I’m not, Jake.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Everyone’s fine. The FBI has Lok Sun in custody. Tommy Duran, too.”

Together, Jake and I stared down at the pavement. In a few hours the blacktop would burn hot as a stove.

Finally, Jake turned his face toward the sky, the fresh light making him look older than ever before. “Where do we go from here, son?”

I shrugged. “Back to the office, wait on Turi’s jury, I guess.”

He stared at me. “That’s not what I meant.”

I shrugged again. “Nothing changes, Jake.”

He nodded slowly, without looking at me, his gaze again fixed on the street. “That’s what frightens me most.”

I turned my head, watched as the giant, covered by a large white sheet, was finally rolled out on a gurney. I didn’t know the giant’s name. I didn’t want to know it.

Three bodies, one after another after another, were rolled out after the giant’s. All anonymous under their white sheets.

Jake looked away from the bodies, away from me. “You spend your entire life trying to do some fucking good, all the while everyone around you is fighting it. There’s no way out, Kevin. We’re all captives of society. And there aren’t enough well-intentioned people to change a fucking thing, you know that? Not nearly enough.”

I thought about Turi’s trial, about what a not-guilty verdict could mean for Detective Ray Irvine and the rest of the Honolulu PD.

“We can effect some change,” I said absently. “One thing at a time, one place at a time.”

“And where do we start, son?” Jake smirked. “Here?”

I looked at the street signs and windows, all adorned with mysterious symbols, and slowly shook my head. “Maybe. Maybe in Hawaii. Maybe in Honolulu. Maybe we already have right here in Chinatown, Jake.”