On taking it out of my net and opening the glorious wings, my heart began to beat violently, the blood rushed to my head and I felt more like fainting than I have done when in apprehension of immediate death.
—ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE
SOME DREAMS ARE SWEETER than others. Newcomer’s were beginning to be filled with butterflies every night. Sometimes he managed to catch one for a moment. Then he would release it and watch as it flew away. Perhaps he was dreaming of them when his cell phone rang at 1:30 AM on June 30. He didn’t get up but listened to the voice message later that morning.
Call me quick if you still want to buy an Alexandra.
Kojima’s voice sent shivers of excitement through him. It was as if his life had somehow changed. So this was how it felt to be an obsessive collector and offered your wildest dream. Newcomer raced to Fish and Wildlife and logged on to Skype at 8:30 AM, making sure that the webcam was off.
“Hi, Ted. You just wake up?” Kojima asked.
“Yeah, a little while ago,” Newcomer replied, afraid this might still be part of his dream.
“Okay, I get a message from my friend in Papua New Guinea. He has one more pair of Alexandra to sell. How much can you pay?”
This is happening so fast. It won’t do me any good unless I have the Alexandra in hand when Yoshi arrives in the States. “When can I get them?”
“He must send to me first,” Kojima explained.
“But how will you get it when you’re coming to the U.S.?” Newcomer pressed. The thought of not being able to add them to the charges against Kojima made him feel sick.
“I can wait to come until then,” Kojima offered amiably.
Perfect. Newcomer’s plan was back on track. “What do you think is a fair price, Yoshi?”
“This is a very large nice one. It’s gorgeous. Eight thousand is good,” Kojima proposed.
“I’ll tell you what. Let me call one of my customers, and I’ll get back to you in about ten minutes.” Newcomer’s mind was already awhirl with what had to be done.
“Okay, I’ll talk to you then, but this Alexandra is perfect, and very difficult to get,” Kojima said before hanging up.
Newcomer knew what he meant. If he didn’t take it quickly, someone else would. At this point his buy money was pitifully low. Newcomer had been allotted just ten thousand dollars in total. It was a paltry amount compared with what other federal law-enforcement agencies spent on their cases. He now had only four thousand left. Yeah, but this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. The Alexandra will give me the home run I need to bring this case to a close.
He knew what he had to do. He would throw himself on Kojima’s mercy. Maybe Kojima wouldn’t make him pay up front this time. Newcomer checked his image in the mirror, fixed his hair, and then Skyped Kojima right back.
“Hey, Yoshi. I talked to my customer, and he’s too nervous to pay for it in advance. He’s afraid it will be confiscated, since it’s an endangered species,” Newcomer said, making the story up as he went along. “So the only way I can buy it is if I can first get it, sell it, and then pay you after I receive it.”
“I see, I see. Oh, man,” Kojima muttered under his breath.
Newcomer could almost feel Kojima’s disappointment rolling in waves at him over the Ethernet.
“Yeah, it stinks. My customer said he would pay me for it if I had it in hand, but he’s not going to give me ten thousand dollars ahead of time. It’s too risky. You understand,” Newcomer said in his most heartfelt voice. Come on. Give me a break, he prayed.
“Sending to you is not a problem, but I must have advance first,” Kojima insisted.
Newcomer played his hand as delicately as one would cook a soufflé. “That’s exactly what I told my customer, Yoshi. I said you’re a good guy and there’s no problem, that we’ve been getting them all along. He’s just too nervous to take the chance. I really want to do it but I don’t have that much money on hand. Everything went into my new condo.”
“Oh, I see,” Kojima muttered again, then fell silent.
Yoshi isn’t happy. I wonder what his cut on this was going to be. That thought gave him hope. Kojima really wanted to make this sale.
“Maybe next time,” Newcomer said, then paused. “Unless your friend is willing to send it and be paid later.”
Kojima clucked his tongue in frustration. That would be very difficult. He hadn’t been able to get this butterfly for a long time. Now the guy was willing to give him three pair.
Newcomer realized that might be the catch. The more O. alexandrae Kojima bought, the more they’d be made available to him. It was time to try to reel him in. “I’d love to be able to get it, and you know me. I’d pay as soon as I got the money from my client,” Newcomer added wistfully.
The butterfly was in Kojima’s court. Newcomer’s pulse pounded like a pair of giant wings beating in his ears as he waited for Kojima’s response.
“Okay. We can pay half and half. But it’s a risk for me, too. Understand?” Kojima said. “You have no other customer to ask?”
The pressure was on. He had to handle this perfectly, or the entire thing would explode.
“Tell you what. Let me check with two other customers first and get back to you,” Newcomer said, hoping to finagle the best possible deal.
“The only problem is if I’m making a lot of money, I don’t mind. I can buy. You understand? But I’m making nothing now,” Kojima began to complain.
Welcome to my world, Newcomer thought. Did that mean Kojima had been lying about the thirty thousand dollars? Or was he just one of those guys who liked to cry poor?
Kojima tried one last sales pitch. The butterfly had a 19.6-centimeter wingspan.
“Yeah, it’s a true birdwing. That’s like the size of a bird,” Newcomer agreed. Christ, the thing must be enormous.
“Maybe if it’s difficult, you can sell it later,” Kojima implored. “We can risk for you and me the half and half right now. Of course, you can give me a little more because I give it to you for eight thousand dollars. That is my net,” he shrewdly added.
“Let me think about it and I’ll call you back,” Newcomer said, beginning to feel more confident. Kojima was drifting into his net.
“It’s late here and I have to go to sleep. Skype me in eight hours,” Kojima instructed.
That was no problem, but Nelson had one last question. He was thinking of changing banks. “Mine charges too many fees and is terrible. What bank do you use in L.A.?”
“I’m at Bank of America,” Kojima replied without hesitation.
“So that’s how you get payment from most of your customers?” Newcomer was thrilled that his ruse had worked.
“Yes, either through PayPal or they deposit in my U.S. account,” Kojima confirmed. “But PayPal is terrible. I can only take out six hundred dollars a month.”
“Yeah, that’s bad,” Newcomer said. “So how do you get your money out of your U.S. Bank of America account?”
Kojima transferred $9,999 to Japan whenever he came to Los Angeles. Anything over that amount had to be reported to the government. “I’ve also decided you can keep the last two payments you owe me for now. I’ll pick up the thirty-three hundred when I come to L.A.,” Kojima said.
Things were getting better and better. “That’s great. It will save us bank fees for the transfer,” Newcomer agreed. “I’ll pay you cash when I see you. Now go to sleep and dream.”
“Dream what?” Kojima asked, his voice softly drifting toward Newcomer.
“I know what you dream,” Newcomer chuckled.
“Why isn’t your camera on?” Kojima suddenly asked. “It’s not showing anything.”
“I’ve got a video error, so something’s screwed up with my camera.”
“You can see me?” Kojima queried, cross-examining him.
“Yeah, I can see you, but I can’t get my camera working so—”
“I want to see you!” Kojima practically screamed.
Oh, boy. He couldn’t risk losing Kojima over this. “I’ll get it fixed when I call you back in eight hours or so. Okay?”
“Okay,” Kojima agreed, temporarily placated.
Then Newcomer started his day. He immediately sent a message to the Fish and Wildlife agents and inspectors in San Francisco.
Be on the alert for any packages coming from Kyoto, or Osaka, Japan.
Next, he went to check on deliveries. Another Express Mail envelope was due to arrive that day. His anticipation ran nearly as high as a child’s on Christmas Eve. This was to be his third shipment from Kojima, and the package would contain the O. meridionalis he had ordered. His heart beat all that much faster as he saw the envelope and opened it to find the exquisite butterflies inside.
By then it was time to jump into his Tahoe and drive to Riverside, home to Latino gangs, meth labs, entomologists, and butterflies. About fifty miles from the coast and fifty miles from the desert, Riverside is known as a hot spot for lepidopterists. Newcomer headed to the University of California at Riverside, where he had an appointment with entomologist Dave Hawks. He showed him all the butterflies that Kojima had sent so far, and Hawks positively identified them as being the real deal. In fact, there were some butterflies that Hawks had never seen before. The reason was simple: They weren’t available to the scientific world. That was all Newcomer needed to know.
He rushed back to the Fish and Wildlife office and was on Skype with Kojima again by five-twenty that evening.
“I can’t see your beautiful body,” Kojima immediately complained.
“I know, I know. You’re just going to have to use your imagination,” Newcomer joked.
“Too much imagination last night,” Kojima grumbled.
Newcomer just hoped that Kojima would spare him the lewd details.
“When can you get your half of the money to me? I have to transfer it to my friend. Otherwise, he cannot hold the butterflies,” Kojima explained.
“The earliest I can get it to you is on July fifth,” Newcomer said, hoping to stall for as long as possible.
That wasn’t fast enough. “All right, I’ll use my own money if you guarantee that you will pay me back,” Kojima said with a sigh.
Talk about a stroke of luck! “Absolutely,” Newcomer confirmed. “I’ll wire the money the morning of July fifth, but won’t that delay your trip a bit?”
“I must wait for the shipment, so I’ll come to the U.S. at the end of July. And you guarantee that you’ll pay me?” Kojima checked again. “Because this one I make no money on. Minimum for the Alexandra is eight thousand dollars.”
Maybe Kojima was actually telling the truth this time.
“Why are you doing this?” Newcomer asked, genuinely curious.
“Because you didn’t get the last one I sold and I came out a little bit ahead on price. Besides, you must give me beautiful things in return,” Kojima explained blithely.
Of course, Kojima had it all figured out. Ted Nelson was now really in his debt. I guess he plans to take it out in a pound of flesh. Newcomer shivered at the thought.
“That’s why I’m asking you to guarantee that you’ll pay for this,” Kojima pressed.
“Yeah, definitely. But I still don’t understand why you don’t want to make some kind of a profit,” Newcomer replied.
“I give it to you because I want you to start making money, but it’s only this one time,” he said firmly. “Besides, I hope you will order more Alexandras from me.”
That made sense. The better Ted Nelson’s business, the more butterflies he’d buy from Kojima. “If I successfully sell to one customer, then I’m sure that a lot of others will want to buy them,” Newcomer replied, using it as added bait.
That made Kojima so happy he chattered on about the only other topic of interest to him. “I think your camera is not working because your ding-a-ling is so big. That is why it cannot take a picture.” He liked to flatter the boy. Kojima especially enjoyed making Ted blush.
“Yeah, maybe that’s what it is. My camera can’t handle it,” Newcomer genially agreed. Kojima was insatiable.
“Anyway, I asked my friend to mail the Alexandra out quickly,” Kojima added.
“Okay, and then you have to come to L.A. because I’m really looking forward to seeing you,” Newcomer urged. Kojima had no idea how true that was, only it wouldn’t be the welcome that he expected.
The deal was done, but there was always the chance that something could still happen. Kojima was like a loaded gun. The moment he got upset, he would explode and sell the Alexandra to someone else. Newcomer sat down and typed out an e-mail.
I will buy the O.A. we discussed on Skype earlier today. I can pay $4,000 in advance and another $4,000 when I receive and show it to my customer. This is the most I pay for a butterfly so far so we must be careful. I can transfer the money to you on July 5 but no earlier. Do you accept?
That spelled out their terms. Newcomer just hoped that Kojima would abide by them.
ACTIVITY FOR OPERATION HIGH ROLLER had slowed down for the summer months. Newcomer continued with surveillance tapes and garbage runs, but pigeon flies were now on hold until the fall. It was the perfect time to try and escape for a few days. He hoped it would help to repair his relationship with Allison. All he had to do was cover his bases with Kojima. That wasn’t a problem. His “sick uncle” would come in handy. He shot Kojima a quick note that he’d been gone July 1–4.
A few days away proved to be the remedy that he’d needed. Newcomer was now ready to get back to work. He immediately contacted Kojima by e-mail.
Hi Yosh! Did you miss me?? I just returned from visiting my sick uncle in Fresno to celebrate the 4th of July. I will wire transfer $4,000 to your account tomorrow morning. Please send an e-mail or call after 8am to confirm that we still have a deal.
I missed talking to you on Skype for the last few days. When are you coming to LA?
That should do the trick.
Kojima Skyped Newcomer promptly at eight-thirty the next morning.
“I am trying to call you before but you don’t answer,” he scolded.
Things were already off to a rocky start. “Yeah, I was in the shower. I’m leaving for the bank soon so I can send your money,” Newcomer replied while sitting in the Fish and Wildlife office.
There was an uneasy pause before Kojima spoke again. “This time, how can I say, is a risk for me. I don’t know how much you plan to sell the Alexandra for, but can I get five hundred more?”
Newcomer’s stomach tightened. Something was up. “You want five hundred in addition to the four thousand?”
“Yeah, because I have a problem. I give to you very cheap for this larger Alexandra.” Kojima fell momentarily silent, and Newcomer didn’t dare say a word. “You’ll be making much, much money on it, right?”
Kojima had changed his mind once more and was putting the screws to him.
“So eighty-five hundred total?” Newcomer asked, his mouth turning dry.
“Yes, because I’m losing money,” Kojima verified.
Newcomer had no choice. Kojima had thought it over and was pissed. He was fronting his own money and had decided he deserved more of a profit. Kojima would simply “break up” with Newcomer if he argued.
“I plan to transfer exactly four thousand dollars to you today. Can I give you the remaining forty-five hundred when I get the butterfly?” Newcomer asked gingerly, hoping for some leeway.
“Maybe you can send the five hundred first,” Kojima said, remaining steadfast in his demand.
“So you want me to send forty-five hundred today then?” Newcomer knew there was no point in arguing with Kojima once his mind was made up.
“Yes, that is best.”
“Okay, I’ll try to do that,” Newcomer reluctantly agreed. He would have to scrape together the additional money.
Kojima promptly moved on, happy to have gotten his way. He asked after Nelson’s uncle. Newcomer replied that the man was seventy-five years old and not very well. Kojima sadly empathized that he was only fifty-five but felt like an eighty-year-old man.
“The body starts to go,” he said, with a slow shake of his head. “You wouldn’t know about such things because you’re still a young boy.”
Newcomer didn’t know about that. He was feeling pretty haggard himself these days.
“Oh, I miss you so much!” Kojima suddenly blurted out.
The outburst took Newcomer by surprise. “What?”
“I miss you so much,” Kojima repeated emotionally.
Newcomer laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah, it’s been a long time since we talked.”
What he didn’t say was how badly he’d needed the break. The case with Kojima along with his other Fish and Wildlife work and the mounting pressure at home were beginning to take their toll.
“But I can’t see your face anymore,” Kojima nearly cried in despair.
“I know. I’m going to have to get my camera fixed so we don’t have this problem anymore.”
But Kojima wouldn’t let the matter go. “How come it doesn’t work? My camera working for other people today,” he insisted.
“I think it’s a problem on my end. I’ll have it fixed by tonight,” Newcomer promised. “I’ll have more time to mess with it now that I’m back.”
The assurance that Nelson would call that evening allayed Kojima for the moment.
Newcomer was now eating, sleeping, and breathing Kojima. He hadn’t realized what he was getting into taking on two undercover cases, or that it would so affect his marriage. Work consumed him twenty-four hours a day, and Allison felt that he wasn’t around for her anymore. They rarely went out on evenings or weekends in case Kojima called, and when he did, Newcomer was on Skype with him for hours. He was spending more time with Kojima than with his own wife these days, and that wasn’t sitting well. Newcomer was as obsessed with Kojima as Kojima was with his butterflies. The friction was building to a boiling point.
Making matters worse was that Allison’s dog, Huck, was dying. She was nose-diving into depression and had never felt more alone in her life. She resented that all of Newcomer’s time was being eaten up by his job and didn’t know if she could handle it much longer. If this was marriage, she might want out.
Newcomer tried to be sympathetic, but his defenses kicked into gear. He’d worked hard to become an agent, and this case could make or break his career. This is who I am. This isn’t just a job. His slogan used to be “I work to live. I don’t live to work.” Now it was exactly the opposite.
The divorce rate among special agents is notoriously high. Work hours are long, and travel takes up much of their time. It’s become such a problem that Fish and Wildlife offers a class for couples at the end of basic training that’s taught by one of their divorced agents. The advice is to think of marriage as a joint emotional bank account. If you withdraw from it, you have to put something back. Otherwise, the relationship is bound to fail. Allison reminded Ed of that.
Newcomer’s initial response was I’m here. We’re together. What more do you want? But her words struck a chord with him.
It took more than just sitting together in a room. He also needed to be there emotionally. Allison compromised as well. “If you’re not going to be around for a while, that’s okay. Take some advances. Go and do your case. But when it’s over, you’ve got to come back.”
Newcomer promised that he would try.
He was back on Skype with Kojima again by 11:45 that night.
“I transferred the money to Papua New Guinea today,” Kojima informed him.
Newcomer breathed a sigh of relief. He’d made it past the first hurdle. “I transferred the money to you today, also. It went into your Kyoto account in U.S. dollars.”
“Oh no. The best way is Japanese yen because of the exchange rate. That just cost me a hundred dollars,” Kojima complained.
“I’m sorry,” Newcomer apologized. “Here I’m trying to do a good thing and mess it up.”
“You always make a mistake.” Kojima good-naturedly brushed it off.
“I tell you, Yoshi, I don’t know why you deal with me. I’m just a walking mistake. I’ll buy you a hundred-dollar steak dinner when you come to L.A.,” Newcomer promised.
“There are nicer things you can do for me,” Kojima boldly proposed.
“That will cost you more than a hundred dollars,” Newcomer joked, as Kojima now began to examine something in his hand. “What have you got there?”
“It’s a butterfly pupa, only a bee is hatching inside. There’s something wrong with some of the pupae. That’s why so many bees are in here.”
Kojima wasn’t kidding. Bees were flying all around the room as he began to swat at them and scratch his arms. Then he turned his attention back to Newcomer. “You miss me?”
Keep him happy, Newcomer reminded himself. “Yeah, I actually did.”
“Then why don’t you show me your beautiful thing?” Kojima suggested. “After all, you miss me and I miss you.”
“I’ll save that for when you come to L.A. in person,” Newcomer said, playing his trump card.
Kojima nearly squealed in delight. “Oh my God! I’m so excited I cannot sleep! By the way, my friends are collecting more indra for me. This time I get indra nevadensis. It looks like you and is also expensive. I can’t believe you want to charge me a hundred dollars for sex!” he teased.
“Hey, man, I’m worth it,” Newcomer joked.
“Only if you have a huge, huge big one like my actor friend,” Kojima bantered, fully enjoying the conversation. “Why don’t you stand up and show me?”
“I’m wearing a T-shirt,” Newcomer coyly replied.
“No, I want to see down more,” Kojima eagerly instructed.
“I’ve got on my jeans,” Newcomer quipped.
“You can just open them,” Kojima urged.
“You’re bad,” Newcomer said with a chuckle.
“I only request because your money transfer cost me a hundred dollars today,” Kojima reminded him.
“I know. I’ll try to make it up to you. I’m sorry.” They’d had the obligatory sex talk. It was time to get back to business. “So when are you coming to L.A.? Did you decide?”
“I’m waiting for your secret butterfly,” Kojima said, referring to the alexandrae.
“Yeah, but when do you think you’ll come?” Newcomer persisted. He had to get Kojima to L.A. It was the only way he’d ever be able to arrest him, and the entire case hinged on it.
“Once I receive the Alexandra, I ship it to you and then I come,” Kojima clarified. “Anyway, I have to meet with customers in San Francisco, Nevada, and Arizona.”
“Speaking of customers, did your clients ever get the Alexandra and homerus that you sent?” Newcomer inquired.
“Yes, already. No problem,” Kojima replied.
Score another one for Kojima. That meant FWS inspectors hadn’t found Kojima’s packages even though they’d been alerted.
“The one package is worth twelve thousand dollars, and the other is fifteen thousand. Yet I only make five hundred dollars on my sale to you. That’s why I’m losing. How much money will you make on your deal for the Alexandra? Tell me, tell me, tell me!” Kojima insisted, like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you,” Newcomer said, and then noticed something new in Kojima’s hand.
Kojima was playing with a live beetle as they spoke. The bug’s antennae twitched and Newcomer’s stomach jerked as he remembered Kojima’s apartment in L.A. The place had stunk of mothballs and insects both dead and alive. He had no doubt Kojima’s home in Kyoto smelled the same way. He grew more repulsed by the minute. Bees flew all over his place, there were bugs in his bedroom, the futon was unmade, and Kojima watched porno on his computer night and day. Just the thought of all the grime and bugs made Newcomer feel itchy.
Kojima glanced up once again and began to walk away from his desk.
“What’s going on?” Newcomer asked in alarm. Who knew what was moving around in his place?
“Oh, a beautiful butterfly is hatching,” Kojima intoned in a mixture of wonder and delight, a look of sheer joy spreading across his face. “Can you wait? I will show it to you.”
“Sure. It’s got to pump all the blood into its wings first, right?” Newcomer asked, wishing he could see the equivalent of a National Geographic moment.
Kojima returned a few minutes later with a newly hatched butterfly in the palm of his hand. It was spectacular, with wings in shimmering shades of blue and green so vibrant they verged on the surreal. It was as though they’d been sprinkled with fairy dust. It took Newcomer a moment to realize that the butterfly was already dead.
“This is maackii from a special area in Japan and is worth about two hundred dollars,” Kojima said, holding it up to the webcam so that Newcomer could get a better look. “A little bit scratched already, but that’s okay.”
Newcomer’s stomach twisted a bit more. “How did you kill it so quickly? Did you just pinch it?”
“Yes. I pinch your dick also the same way.” Kojima broke into giddy laughter and clicked his fingers together like a dancing lobster’s claw. “Show me. Show me a little bit. I can pay you a dollar,” he said and waved a bill in front of the webcam. “Now will you show me your hairy bunny?”
“Not till you come to L.A.,” Newcomer said staunchly.
Kojima was on one hell of a roll tonight. “Oh my God. You are so nasty. No wonder I can’t sleep well. Anyway, I’m so happy because I have a hundred pupae and two more maackii are hatching tonight.”
Newcomer’s nausea settled deep in the pit of his stomach. How could Kojima profess such love for a butterfly and kill it the very next minute? Oh, yeah. That’s right. It all came down to money. The butterfly was worth two hundred dollars.
“Do they fly loose in your bedroom when they hatch?” he asked. It was almost as if Kojima was living in a zoo.
“No, not flying. I put them in this.” Kojima moved his webcam to reveal fabric containers that hung from the ceiling like Japanese lanterns. The butterflies could pump their wings inside before they were killed.
“The Alexandra that I’m sending you is bigger than the one in this picture. Looks like you and is the size of your dick,” Kojima teased, and held a photo up to the webcam.
There it was again, that same maddening feeling. Part of Newcomer was psyched, while the other part was pissed. That’s one more Alexandra that won’t fly free in the wild.
“That’s great. Maybe I’ll sell it for more than I planned,” Newcomer quipped.
“Your customer will be very happy,” Kojima replied.
“Yeah, I think we’re going to build a good business together, you and me. You’re like the insect rock star,” Newcomer said, flattering him. “You’re the butterfly movie star.”
“I hope so. Everyone knows I sell illegal things,” Kojima gloated.
“That’s true. You’re the number one smuggler,” Newcomer agreed. “They’ll make a movie about you one day, Yoshi.”
It was late and Newcomer had seen enough for the evening. “I’m going to sign off. I’m really tired and need to get some sleep.”
“Do me a favor. For one quick second, can I see your beautiful thing? Then I can also sleep tonight,” Kojima pleaded.
“Not until you come to L.A.”
“Just for one second, please! Just show me one second,” Kojima begged.
Newcomer repeated his mantra. “You’ve got to wait till you come to L.A. How else am I going to get you here?” With luck, the tension would continue to build until Kojima couldn’t take it any longer.
“So nasty, so nasty,” Kojima moaned, rocking his head in his hands.
“I already sent you forty-five hundred dollars today. That’s good enough for now,” Newcomer said, and called it a night.
He was exhausted by the time he logged off at 12:30 AM, but Kojima was nothing if not relentless.
A voice message was waiting for Newcomer when he woke the next morning. Call me! Kojima demanded.
For chrissakes, doesn’t this guy ever give it a rest? There was no longer any escape. Newcomer did as commanded.
Kojima had a task for him. Some of Kojima’s antiques were on consignment at a store in San Diego. Would Ted please go and pick them up? There were fifteen pieces in total, valued at twenty thousand dollars. Kojima would retrieve them when he came to L.A. “I want to see you soon, my nice-looking boy,” Kojima ended the message.
Newcomer’s fourth shipment of butterflies arrived that day. Three perfect O. paradisea, each with a wingspan of nearly 7.5 inches, were buried deep inside a Tupperware container. Newcomer stared at them in admiration. Also called the “Butterfly of Paradise,” the males resembled winged emeralds with flashes of topaz in flight. Once again the package had slipped through Customs undetected. So far, it was 4–0, and Fish and Wildlife was on the losing end.
Newcomer had to leave town to teach a defensive-tactics course for a few days. Ted Nelson’s sick uncle provided the perfect excuse. It seemed his ailing relative had taken a turn for the worse and finally died. Newcomer sent Kojima a short e-mail.
Hi Yosh. I picked up your antiques.
He carefully listed each of the items so there would be no mistake. He didn’t want to be accused of stealing anything.
I have to go to Fresno for my uncle’s funeral. Talk to you on Saturday or Sunday when I return to LA.
The excuse worked like a charm. Not only did Kojima respond with a note of sympathy but also had a special surprise for him.
Do you still want homerus? I have a pair and they’re perfect. If you want I can hold them until you find out if your customer is interested. See you soon my special young nice guy.
Yoshi and Ken
Everything was working out for him.
Of course he wanted it. He’d have a grand slam if this could be pulled off. Kojima would be lucky see so much as a single butterfly outside his jailhouse window for a long time.
Newcomer’s few days away flew by. He was no longer worried. The rest of the case should be a piece of cake. He returned home on July 16 to another e-mail from Kojima.
I received the Alexandra today and will mail it this afternoon. Advise me when you receive and I am going to LAX.
Things couldn’t get any better. Newcomer quickly replied.
Great news! Hopefully the Alexandra will arrive tomorrow. I’m back from Fresno and can skype with you later tonight. When can I expect you in LA?
He was feeling so good that he actually looked forward to speaking with Kojima. He sat down and logged on to Skype at six-thirty that night. “Hey, Yoshi. It’s good to talk to you again. Can you see me on camera?”
Kojima rubbed his eyes, having just woken up. “Yes, such a beautiful boy. How’s your mommy feeling after the funeral?”
“She’s okay.” The anticipation was too much for Newcomer to wait a moment longer. “Listen, you mentioned in an e-mail that you have a homerus.”
“Oh, are you interested?” Kojima sounded faintly surprised.
That was a weird question. Kojima knew perfectly well that he wanted it. “Yeah, I have this one client that’s interested.”
“This one is gorgeous. I’ve never seen such a beautiful one before,” Kojima began his pitch.
Newcomer got right down to business. “How much do you want for the pair?”
“Last time I got twelve, but I’ll give you a special price. It’s nine for both. They’re in beautiful condition,” Kojima replied.
“That sounds fine. How much do you think I can sell them for?” Newcomer asked.
“Fourteen to sixteen is a good price,” Kojima told him.
It was too good to pass up.
“Okay, I’ll check with my client tomorrow. We’ll settle what I owe when you come to L.A.,” Newcomer said.
“Yes, otherwise I have no money and can’t go anywhere,” Kojima replied.
That wasn’t something Kojima would have to worry about. Newcomer already knew where he’d be going.
Then it was time for their nightly game.
“Now you show me your beautiful one?” Kojima said.
“I can’t today because my mom and sister are coming back any moment. They just went to get a pizza.”
This wasn’t the way their call was supposed to go. Kojima slowly blinked from behind his round glasses. “You’re very difficult to catch lately. How come?”
It had been a long day and a big drive home, and Newcomer was ready to grab some dinner and relax. Besides, he hadn’t seen Allison in a few days and needed to spend time with her or their fragile situation would only get worse.
“I was in Fresno,” he replied quietly.
“You still in Fresno last night? I tried to call you then,” Kojima accused, starting to sound upset.
It felt as though a noose was tightening around his neck as he took a deep breath. He’d been bone tired when he’d retrieved Kojima’s messages last night. They’d sounded urgent, but then they always did. Kojima was just lonely and wanted to talk. “Yeah, I got them, but I was dealing with my family. Besides, you called pretty late. One of the messages was around midnight, and I was already asleep.”
Kojima slowly calmed down. “That’s okay. I hope you can make lots of money with the butterfly I sent you.”
“I’m sure that I will. I can’t wait to see the Alexandra.” Newcomer wouldn’t believe it until he actually held the legendary butterfly in his hand.
“Looks a little bigger than your dick,” Kojima said, attempting to restart their nightly game.
Newcomer gritted his teeth. God help me. I don’t know how much more of this I can stand. “Hey, you know what? My mom and sister just walked in. I’ve got to go.”
He quickly logged off. He’d have to hold on a little while longer. Just keep it together, he reprimanded himself. The case wasn’t over, and anything could happen.
He shot Kojima a note the next day.
I talked to my customer in Palisades Park. I’ll buy the homerus from you for $900. Hope you can send it before you come to LA.
It took less than an hour for Kojima to write back. There’d been a misunderstanding. Nelson was badly mistaken if he thought a pair of highly endangered homerus would go for that amount. The price was nine thousand dollars. Nelson should please inform his client.
Newcomer stared at the message in disbelief. Here we go again, he thought. By now he’d bought nearly fifteen thousand dollars’ worth of butterflies and still owed Kojima half of the money. No way in hell could he ever hope to purchase the homerus unless Kojima gave it to him up front.
He put all thoughts of the butterfly on hold as he rushed out to check on deliveries. This was the day that the Alexandra was finally due to arrive. It was the moment of truth that would elevate the case from the ordinary to the sublime. Did Kojima really trust him enough to have sent the world’s most highly prized butterfly?
Newcomer’s heart beat, his throat dry as sand, as he caught sight of the Express Mail envelopes that were piled up. He rummaged through the stack until he caught sight of the package from Kyoto, Japan. It was addressed to Ted Nelson from Ken Kojima. The Customs Declaration form stated that sixteen pieces of “Dry Butterfly” valued at thirty dollars were inside.
He removed the top layer of fourteen common butterflies as though they were so much confetti. He could barely contain his excitement. Then his eyes landed on the prize that he’d waited so long for. Hidden beneath the decoys lay two large triangular envelopes. He gingerly lifted what looked like fragile pieces of origami, his fingers trembling as they slowly unwrapped a stunning pair of Ornithoptera alexandrae. They were like a myth come alive. The butterflies were even more magnificent than he had imagined.
The female had rich chocolate wings dotted with spots of cream; tufts of red fur encircled her thorax. Her wingspan measured a good foot, while the male’s wings were seductive blue and green velvet framing a body of pure gold. All it took was one look to understand why the butterfly was deemed so highly desirable. The Alexandra had already been harmed by habitat loss. Now rumors swirled of vaults filled with hundreds of them in Japan. The butterflies were being stowed away by commercial dealers in anticipation that they’d go extinct. Once that happened, Alexandras would be worth twenty thousand dollars a pair. Kojima and his kind were pushing the species to the brink.
I got him. I got him. The words repeated themselves in Newcomer’s head as he bagged and tagged the evidence. There’d been a chance Kojima might have received probation. No longer. Now he’d definitely go to jail. There was only one thing left to worry about: blowing the case before Newcomer could get his hands on him.
He checked his cell phone to find that Kojima had already left three pressing messages. Had Ted received the package yet? It was urgent that he let Kojima know.
Newcomer chuckled to himself. It was the first he’d known Kojima to sweat, but this time his own money was on the line. Let him worry a little longer, Newcomer thought, and headed straight to the U.S. Attorney’s Office. He left armed with an indictment for Kojima’s arrest.
He didn’t Skype Kojima until later that evening. If Kojima was worried, it didn’t show as he sat at his computer drinking a cup of tea.
“Hi, Yoshi. How you doing?” Newcomer asked.
“Okay. I sent out twenty packages of butterflies today. It’s not big money but continue selling well,” Kojima said amiably.
“That’s good. Hey, I noticed you put Ken’s name on the Express Mail package again,” Newcomer said.
“It’s okay. If Customs finds the package, they can’t catch him in Japan because he’s not here. So they just throw it away. Anyway, you receive it no problem?” Kojima checked.
“Yeah, everything’s good,” Newcomer confirmed.
Kojima then advised that Nelson delete all their old e-mail messages. That way Fish and Wildlife would never find them on his computer. Newcomer agreed to be more careful.
“By the way, I’d like to get that homerus, but nine thousand dollars is a lot of money for me.”
“You must understand, CITES I is not so cheap, and homerus is the most expensive butterfly. Homerus is more difficult to get than Alexandra,” Kojima said.
Newcomer explained that he’d already asked the same client that had bought the Alexandra and there was no way he’d come up with another ten or eleven thousand dollars in the next few days.
“Oh, I see,” Kojima replied, clearly disappointed. “Anyway, I must sell to other people then because I don’t want to hold it for too long. I’m sorry.”
Let it go. You’ve already got enough to charge Kojima and get jail time. Don’t get greedy. Just concentrate on getting him over here, Newcomer decided. “That’s okay.”
“Also, it’s very difficult to get you today because I wonder about whether the package arrived or not. You must give the Alexandra to your customer quickly. Don’t hold on to CITES I for too long, or you could have big problem. Customs might come and want to see what’s in the package,” Kojima warned.
Why was he suddenly so antsy? “I’ll take it tomorrow morning and try to convince my customer to also buy the homerus. I’ll let you know if he changes his mind,” Newcomer replied.
“This is my last request before you sleeping. Could you please show me something?” Kojima asked, and leaned in close to the webcam.
Newcomer shook his head in amusement. “You ask me that every time.”
Kojima clapped his hands. “That’s why it’s so exciting. It’s also why I can’t give you a free butterfly yet.”
Newcomer played along. “Oh, really? So what kind of free butterfly would I get?”
“It’s a secret, but you can make a lot of money on a free one,” Kojima said, trying to tempt him.
“Not till you get to L.A., and then I have a special surprise for you,” Newcomer said enticingly.
“A surprise?” Kojima clapped his hands again in delight. “A big one is okay.”
“Yeah, it’ll be a big surprise,” Newcomer confirmed.
“Why don’t you show me now?” Kojima urged. “Just for one second.”
“Not till you get here,” Newcomer teased.
“You’re so nasty,” Kojima replied, thoroughly enjoying the game. “Anyway, I’m waiting for your beautiful big one tomorrow. Send to me a photo.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” Newcomer said, chuckling, and thought, If Kojima only knew. “You have to wait till you come to L.A. to see my Alexandra.”
“You promised that you’d send me a photo,” Kojima reminded him petulantly.
This always happened at the end of their conversations. The playful teasing became serious, and Newcomer had grown tired of it.
“I’ve got to have something to get you to L.A.,” Newcomer said. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” Kojima replied wistfully.
Newcomer promised.