thirty

Gato parked the Cougar in a far, dark corner of the lot near the dock that led to Mallen’s home. They got out and moved quietly over the gravel.

As they approached Gregor’s place, Mallen saw that the lights were off. Shit … Didn’t want to wake the man. Mallen had hoped Gregor would still be up, poring over the codebook or his Marin walk trails. Maybe even watching a taped Steelers game. He needed that book out of Gregor’s hands. It was time to keep people out of it, not in it. He’d been an idiot, gotten lazy. Lost his edge. And now innocent people had paid. Nobody else was going to pay for his mistakes.

Knocked on the scarred old door. Suddenly felt he was being watched. Glanced at the windows. Thought he caught the movement of a curtain on the second story. After a moment, the front door opened and there was Gregor, dressed as always: Steelers t-shirt, khaki shorts, and no shoes. The man didn’t give any indication at all that Mallen had woken him up, if indeed that’s what Mallen had done. The alert gaze in the man’s eyes made Mallen think that’s exactly what he hadn’t done.

“Sleep lightly, yeah?” he said to Gregor.

“Never sleep on a mission, son. That’ll get you killed,” Gregor answered with a slight smile. “Don’t stand in doorways longer than you have to,” he added. A teacher, giving a lesson.

Mallen and Gato went right in. Gregor turned on a lamp, and Mallen saw there was a gun in Gregor’s hand. The older man had him dead to rights, but only smiled and laughed softly. “No, son. Not for you.”

“Who then?”

For an answer, Gregor went to one of the front windows, but only after shutting off the light. Carefully pulled back the curtain, but only a little. The hairs on the back of Mallen’s neck stood up. He’d known Gregor long enough to think he knew what this answer would be, too.

“You’ve had visitors,” he said, voice flat.

“Yeah? How many? When?”

Gregor moved to the stairs. Motioned for Mallen and Gato to follow. They went up to the loft area. Only then did Gregor turn on a light. A cone light that shone on the tabletop. There were mounds of papers there. All pencil scribbles and diagrams and letters. Gregor had been busy. He dug through a nearby pile of papers. Came out with the codebook. Handed it over, saying, “Mallen? You better burn that fucker.”

“Burn it?” That was crazy. “Why the hell would I do that? All the answers are here.”

A laugh. An old, crusty laugh. Gregor dug under the pile of papers again. Came out with a pack of cigarettes. Lit one up and tossed the pack on the table. Blew out some smoke, then smiled. Dug under the papers once more and this time came out with a thick sheaf of paper binder-clipped together. “You want to do that because I copied the whole fucking thing for you. Something you should’ve done immediately, youngin’. ”

“Capitan,” Gato said with reverence, “that’s amazing.”

Mallen’s mind was numb at the work the old man had accomplished, and in so little time. “Look, I can’t let you get into this anymore, Mr. Gregor. Hell, I still want to buy your truck.”

The old man laughed at that. Nodded. “I appreciate a soldier who can crack wise in the face of trouble. Good to know that about you, Mallen.”

“Who was here?” Mallen said.

“Only an hour ago, a man came down the dock. Went up to your door. Knocked. Looked back at the dock gate. I was watching the whole thing. You know, after awhile you recognize the step of someone, right? Well, I know how the locals sound as they walk past my place. I can tell when it’s someone who doesn’t come around often, or someone who’s never been here before. I saw him look back at the land. There was a couple of men standing there in the shadows. Sentinel-like. You didn’t answer your door, so after about minute or so, they left.”

“You get a look at any of them?”

“It was dark, and I don’t have as good vision as I once did. Plus I was looking from a concealed vantage. The guy that knocked at your door was thin. Wore a suit. Chinese, or Japanese. Can’t be fuckin’ sure.”

Wong. Who the fuck else? Mallen glanced at Gato, who only nodded in response, then pulled out his automatic and checked the clip. That was definitely Gato’s vote. Mallen looked down at the book in his hand. “I can’t … can’t involve you any deeper, sir.” The “sir” was pretty much automatic at this stage. If Gregor wasn’t still on duty in the service, he still exuded that aura. “This runs deep into some really bad places.”

Another old, throaty laugh. “Well, it’s you, right? Where else would it be running?”

Mallen chuckled at that. “I’ll burn this straight away. Did you make anything else from all the writing?”

Gregor scanned over the papers on his desk. “Partial. It’s definitely a ledger of sorts. If I’m right, there’s a lot of money changing hands.”

Mallen’s phone ringing almost made him jump. Checked the number. Gwen. He paused before answering it. What way to go? His gut said to take the call, so he did, stepping away from the other two men. “Hey, what’s the latest?”

A soft, mocking laughter was his answer. Knew immediately she was not happy. “Heard something through the vine. About Oberon.”

“Really? What about him?”

“Look, where are you?”

“Look, what’s up? Why call now? I just don’t have anything to report.”

“Bullshit you don’t. Where are you?”

“So you can tell your blue brotherhood? Why would I tell you where I am?” Fuck it, he thought, I’m burning up the world, might as well do it right. Like Ol’ Monster Mallen had always said: Play it to the limit.

“I won’t tell my ‘brotherhood,’ you asshole,” she said. “I still need your help and we haven’t exactly been playing open hands, right?”

“Got that right. I know about you and Wong.”

Silence. “Look, we have to do this face to face. Where are you?”

Thought for a moment. “I’m still in the city. In the Loin. At St. Luke’s. They let homeless sleep there. I figure I’m about homeless, about fuckin’ now.”

“Okay. Let’s meet in the morning. I’ll buy you breakfast. At Han’s. They’re not far from your … motel.”

It was only a handful of blocks away from St. Luke’s. On Leavenworth and Sutter. He could be there in the morning. “Okay. Nine?”

“Okay.” Then the call went dead. As he put the phone in his pocket, he said to Gregor, “I hate to ask this of you, sir, but can you lend me—”

“The truck again?” Gregor smiled. “Hell, man … you still got the keys. Just pay me $100 a month. You miss a payment, I repo the truck and turn off your bilge. You hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you. Thank you,” Mallen replied. Glanced down at the papers. “Bury those somewhere that they would have to set fire to the bay in order to find them, yeah?”

“Of course. I’m not going to lose the war in the final firefight, son. Not me.”

Mallen and Gato went down the stairs to the door. Opened it. “Let’s go to my place,” Mallen told his friend, “I need a few things then we’ll get the fuck out of here.” He had to stay away from the only place he’d felt safe since getting clean. That burned in him. He just wanted to rest and make kites, but the other side of him, the side that wanted to help people, just wouldn’t let him.

They got to his place and Mallen pulled out his keys. Opened the door. The two men stepped inside … .

The lights flashed on. Gwen sat in the overstuffed leather chair Mallen always sat in, gun in her hand, pointing right at his chest. Her eyes were crinkled up at the edges in humor; she seemed to enjoy having gotten the drop on him. “I knew you weren’t in the goddamned city,” she said. Indicated for both of them to come in and close the door.

Mallen and Gato exchanged glances. Mallen looked at Gato’s right hand as it inched for his gun, but he shook his head. Gato nodded and went and sat on the couch, hand near the gun in his waistband. Mallen stood, hands in coat pockets.

“I said to sit down, Mallen.”

“Go fuck, Gwen. If this is a bullshit session I’ll stand, thanks.”

Their eyes locked. Then she relaxed. Put the gun down on the chair arm. “Okay. Okay … .” she said. “Stand if that’s what you want to do.” Got up then. Came over to him, leaving the gun behind. “You can pick that up if you want to, Eduardo,” she told Gato. He didn’t move, but Mallen could see he was lost in what seemed to be going down. And what was going down? Mallen wondered what game Gwen played at. Whatever that game was, it was not what he’d expected, at all.

“Gwen, quit beating about the bush. What’s up? If you wanted to bring me in, you would’ve had backup here. If you’d wanted to kill me, I’d be dead and so would Gato. You called me into this, and I don’t know why anymore.”

She nodded. “I’m”—she sighed—“there’s just no other way to say it. I’m working … I guess you would say, undercover.”

Mallen stared at her a long time. A long time. Then he went and sat down in his chair. Picked up her gun and looked at it a moment. Then he held it out to her. She wasn’t lying. There was no reason for it to be a lie. None at all that he could figure. She came over and took it from him. Put it in her holster. “Not on the outside like you did, but inside. In the department, Mallen.”

“You really think we’d believe that?” Gato said, then looked at Mallen, “I wouldn’t believe her, man. She looks like a mentirosa.”

A smile at the word, then she continued, “No, not lying. Unfortunately, I have no way to prove any of this. Mallen? You’ll have to accept this on faith, I guess. You’ve worked undercover. You know what it was like. How would you have proved it to someone, if you’d had to?”

“How long you been a mole?” Mallen said.

“Three long years.” That would just about jibe with how long Oberon had said she’d been fixing cases with Wong.

“Really? So you were fixing cases with your boyfriend as part of your cover?”

Silence. Then she nodded. “Yes. Come on, how many times did you break the law to keep your cover? There was no other choice, right? Just part of the job? To play undercover, you have to be undercover. It’s not a game. You have to go to the limit, or you’re dead.”

“And Wong? I gotta say, Gwen, you have more commitment than I ever did. I wouldn’t have slept with someone in order to keep the job going.”

“But that’s because you were married. I’m not. And wasn’t, and don’t plan to be.” Did she actually shudder? Mallen had to admit, either it was the truth or she was very good at her part.

“So just what the fuck are you doing undercover in the department? What’s your objective? Corruption? Drugs? What?”

She looked from him to Gato and back again. “Not only are cops fixing cases to further their careers, they’re actually committing the crime then framing someone and bringing them in. Some … some are even running a shadow business, for lack of a better word.”

“Shadow business? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Now she went and sat down next to Gato. His friend moved away a bit, like she might be a viper who’d strike at any moment. “When I first came to you about the missing kids, I was being honest. Children are being kidnapped. It’s not about abuse, like anyone would assume. It’s about making money, Mallen. It’s about illegal adoption.”

“I’d thought that’s what it was. The book I—” Caught himself, but it was too late. Gwen’s eyes went sharp.

“Book? What book? What do you know, Mallen?”

To Mallen’s surprise it was Gato who spoke. “A codebook listing the buying and selling of the niños.” Looked then at Mallen, “If we’re going to save the ones that can’t save themselves, we have to be willing to take some risks, right?”

Mallen smiled. “More of your old man’s wisdom?”

Gato shook his head. “No, man. My own.”

“Okay.” Then to Gwen he said, “Yeah, it’s a codebook. I got it off of Karachi.”

“So. The rumors are true. You did kill that bag of shit.”

He nodded. “Oberon tell you that?”

“No. Oberon took a sudden leave of absence from the department. Very sudden. Word is he came back, covered in dirt, and with a broken jaw. Not very happy. Told the boss he’d earned a vacation, then handed over his cases to the rest of the crew and left.” She’d said this entire thing never taking her eyes off of Mallen.

“That all he said?” Mallen replied. “Nothing else?”

“Nothing else that anyone is saying, anyway. You know more?”

“No,” he deadpanned. “I haven’t seen Obie for some days.”

“What do you know about the niños?” Gato asked her.

“They’re targeting children that belong to drug-addicted mothers … mothers on welfare. All the children taken so far have lived in the lowest income strata in the city. I’m sure they’re setting up these children to be abducted, and then sold.”

“But why would someone overseas want an American kid?” Gato said to her. “There must be thousands of white kids people could buy instead. Russian. Croatian All over Eastern Europe, right? Just like you see in the movies.”

“That’s true. But it’s children here that are being bought and sold … to American families.”

“I don’t get it,” Mallen said. “Why the bother? These white families could land a kid from any adoption place. They’re white. They have money. I don’t get it.”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “From what I’ve been able to find out, there’s usually something in the family’s background that would make it impossible for them to adopt through regular channels.”

“What? Like abuse?” Gato said. His fists clenched as he said it.

A slight nod from Gwen. “It’s possible, sure. It could also be that either parent committed some other sort of crime. Something not related to abuse. Any conviction would knock you off the list.”

“And you don’t have anything more on this?” Mallen said. “More than what you’ve told me?”

“I was getting close, Mallen. I knew Hendrix was involved. I was getting to him. He was going to crack, I know. I just had to get him high enough.”

High enough … “You know how he was found,” Mallen said. “You know he died of an OD. What did you do? Give him that skag? If we’re being upfront here, then lay it on the table, Gwen.”

She looked at Mallen like he was crazy. “No! I had been talking with him. He’d heard some things. Tripped to it through his network. Look, he was a total piece of shit, but he didn’t want to go back to jail. He told me it was through this network he’d heard something.”

“This network of molesters.”

Another sigh. “Yes … of molesters. But he’d found just a thread about the kidnappings. He wanted to pass that on so he could make some money. Then he died.”

“Had to be Wong. I know he was there,” Mallen said. “At Hendrix’s wagon the day he died.”

“That’s what IA thinks. And I do, too.” She paused then. “We have an idea that Wong has involved himself with this sort of large, underground organization before. But we’re not sure. We just think so.”

Mallen and Gato glanced at each other for a second. “Yeah … ” Mallen said quietly. “How do you see this ending, Gwen? What’s your side’s plan? Do you have one?”

“Of course we have one. I involved you because I needed help and knew that once you’d gotten involved, you’d go pedal to the metal on it. Everyone I’m working with knew it. We knew you’d find out things we’d never be able to find out.”

And what the fuck had that been? That there was some sort of group operating in the city that stole kids from the Loin and other poor areas of the city, then sold them to wealthy families not only in the Bay Area, but probably also out of state. And he was still no closer to finding Jesse. He was nowhere. Karachi was dead. Lucas had been killed. Hendrix murdered. Blackmore turned into collateral damage. Wong was involved in it somehow. Maybe just as a contract killer, but if Wong was involved at all, it was bad. And he would take Wong down. No matter what.

“I haven’t done shit,” he finally said. “Too many black holes out there still. And how far are you, and whoever the fuck is behind you, willing to go in order to stop Wong and whatever he’s into?” And what if this organization was directly involved with the group that had kidnapped Chris? The one he’d made the bargain with, that cold night under the dome at the Legion of Honor? Then what?

He paced back and forth as he thought, then stopped to face her. Gato picked up on it. Got to his feet.

“Gwen,” Mallen said, “Here’s the codebook.” He put it in her hand.

“You have a copy,” she replied flat. Disappointment there.

“I do. An exact copy. You can play your version anyway you want. Good to know we’re working on the same side and all that bullshit, okay? But I’m still trying to find Trina’s daughter and make sure these fuckers quit and wave the white flag. You’ve been on my ass to give you something? Well, there it is. Do something with it. I’m damn sure Wong is involved. Like we know, he was seen at Hendrix’s wagon right before the fuck was killed. If you can’t go after Wong, I will. I owe him anyway,” he said as he flexed his right hand.

Gato moved to the door. Pulled out his car keys. Gwen took the hint. “Okay, Mallen,” she said. “I’ll do what I can with this. Thank you for giving it to me.” Went to the door. Stopped. Almost smiled as she said, “you’d make a good cop. Again.” Left without another word.

After the door was closed, Mallen said, “I want to believe her, you know? But her past with Wong still sets off alarms. I mean … you’d have to be a very dedicated cop to sleep with the enemy. Hell, maybe she sees herself as some modern-day Mata Hari. Maybe she’s willing to do anything to get up the ladder. Shoulders slumped then. Jesus … and people didn’t shoot drugs why?

Gato said to him, “Vato, what do we do now?”

Mallen checked the Marin address that Gregor had found in the book. The only address coded into the book that was not in some poor part of the city or any area otherwise mentioned. “We go to this place, and see what we can see.” Mallen then looked at Gato, “G,” he said softly. “You want to go on with this? There’s still a chance for you to walk away. You can go be with your mother. Look again for your sister.”

At the mention of his sister, Gato began to pace back and forth. Rubbed at the crook of his right elbow. Mallen knew that his friend was right handed. He thought then about how Gato had been since he’d come back without his sister. The bruises, though faded, where evident. The man’s entire bearing was different. In that one movement, Mallen thought he had a slight idea of what might’ve happened to his friend. And if he was right, what had gone down was very bad and very dark. “Eduardo,” Mallen told him, “I’m here for you, brother. You’ve been here for me more times than I’ll ever be able to count. You brought me from the abyss and set me on the road.” Before Gato could say anything Mallen put his hand to stop him, “No, let me say this: you brought me from the dark. It was you that cared and showed me the way. I owe you a thousand times over. I’m here for you, man. I have your back. It doesn’t run just one way, okay? All you have to do is ask for help, and I’ll give whatever help I can. Okay?”

To all that, Gato had listened patiently. After a moment, he smiled the old smile. “Just like always, I see there’s a good heart beating in that chest, my brother. I’ll be asking, trust me. Let’s finish your business then you can help me finish mine, si?”

“You got it.” His phone rang. It was 4 a.m., and the number was one he didn’t know. “Hello?” he said.

“Mr. Mallen?” A woman’s voice. Sympathetic. That set him off. Chris? Anna?

“Yes. Who is this?”

“My name is Nancy Perkins. I’m a nurse at S.F. General. Emergency. We found your number in Trina Marston’s pocket.”

“You found it … in her pocket?” Took a deep breath. “What’s happened to her?”

“There was a call from her building about an hour ago. The paramedics found her on the floor of her apartment. Now, she’s going to be all right,” she continued over his questions, “but it was close. A little longer, or a little more? It was very close.”

Mallen knew immediately what that meant. She tried to take her own life.

“Like I said,” she continued, “I’m calling because she had your phone number in her pocket. Along with a small bracelet. A little girl’s bracelet.”

Jessie …

“I’ll be right there,” he said, and hung up. “Gato … .”

“Just tell me where we’re going,” his friend said he headed for the door.