“How does this relate to Phil’s murder? Or to the Rothberg sale? Or to Xiao Long?”
“Let’s go back to Phil’s wake.” Sloane’s nonresponse was intentional. “Keep this discussion and what you just saw between us. I’ll answer your questions as soon as I can.”
A few minutes later, Sloane returned to the wake. She glanced around until she spotted Derek, who quickly disengaged himself from one of Phil’s sons, to whom he’d been expressing his condolences.
“I was beginning to think you’d slipped out the back door,” he muttered as he joined her.
“I’m sorry I vanished for so long,” Sloane replied. “But it was critical.”
“I saw Leo haul Ben out of here a while ago. He was docile as a lamb. I’m sure you had something to do with that.”
Sloane shrugged. “I eased Ben back into reality as gently as I could.” Her gaze darted around, searching for Wallace and Cindy.
“If you’re looking for Wallace and his girlfriend, they just left,” Derek informed her. “I tried to go over and engage them in conversation. But she clearly wanted no part of chatting. She avoided me like the plague. And she wasn’t too much better with everyone else. She expressed her condolences, stayed as long as Wallace felt it was necessary, then urged him out the door. I’m sure she felt out of place. So do I. But I got the distinct impression it was me she was avoiding. Maybe she saw my gun and got nervous, or maybe I’m imagining things.”
“You’re not imagining things. If Wallace told her you’re FBI, it’s possible she has reason to avoid you.”
Derek’s brows drew together. “It sounds like you accomplished a lot more at this wake than just calming Ben down.”
“I did.” Sloane slipped her arm through Derek’s. “Let’s say our good-byes. You and I really have to talk.”
“Done.”
They were in the car ten minutes later, and then drove to an empty parking lot to talk in private.
“Let’s hear it.” Derek turned off the ignition and turned to face Sloane. “You look like you’re about to burst.”
“I am.” Sloane sucked in her breath, then began. “Wallace’s girlfriend’s name is Cindy Liu. She’s an architect in Manhattan. I need you to run a background check on her.”
“Fine. Why?”
Sloane fished in her pocketbook and pulled out the photo Lucy had given her. “This is Meili, the girl who sold the Rothberg to Daniel Zhang.” She pointed. “See any resemblance?”
Derek let out a low whistle. “Add a few years, and she and Cindy Liu could be twins.”
“Exactly. My father said pretty much the same thing after he got his first glimpse of Cindy a few minutes ago—and he’s met Meili. I’ll tell you the whole story. But first, I have one question. Do you happen to know a rich, influential man in Hong Kong named Johnny Liu?”
The stunned expression on Derek’s face gave Sloane her answer.
“Johnny Liu’s been on our radar for years. But no one can get anything on him. To the world, he’s a successful businessman. In China, he’s a beloved philanthropist.”
“And to the Bureau?”
“He’s a kingpin in Asian organized crime. Both American and Chinese law enforcement suspect that Liu heads up the Liu Jian Triad. The triad has major illegal operations going on in Hong Kong and Macao.” Derek paused. “But Liu is a very common name, Sloane. So if you’re trying to link…”
“I’m not trying. It’s a fact. Assuming it’s the same Johnny Liu, he’s Cindy’s uncle. And if he is, the story I’m about to tell you could take us in a whole new direction.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
There was no doubt that Johnny Liu had members of the Hong Kong Police Department in his pocket.
It took Derek and Rich all weekend to dig up what they wanted to know. Fortunately, they had their own contacts—honest Hong Kong police who wanted to cooperate and who were willing to work hard to get at the truth.
When the truth was finally unearthed, it dropped the central piece of the puzzle into place.
Johnny Liu had fathered one child, a daughter.
Her name was Meili.
Meili had left home in August 1999, at seventeen years old. A death certificate for a Jane Doe matching Meili’s description did indeed exist, but it had been so deeply buried, it had been virtually impossible to find in Rich and C-6’s first attempt. This time, with the right people at the other end researching, the death certificate was located in a pile of very old, very cold cases.
It was dated January 2006, cause of death unknown.
The dates matched up with Lucy’s story.
Liu had covered things up well. But after additional digging, it was determined that it was he who had identified Meili’s body, and that the cause of death had been suicide. His daughter had slit her wrists and been found alone in a broken-down apartment with a note to her family—one that had mysteriously vanished after being confiscated by the police.
“Sloane’s right,” Derek announced to Rich, after they’d met to compare notes. “This changes everything.” He reached for his half-empty, lukewarm cup of coffee. He’d lost track of how many cups he’d consumed in the past forty-eight hours. “The pieces all have to be rearranged. Your case. My case. Motives. Victims. You name it.”
“My cases,” Rich corrected. “As for Dead or Alive, everything Daniel Zhang told us was true. But we’ve been headed in the wrong direction. Henry Fong’s involvement with the Rothberg began and ended with Meili. The other Rothberg, however, began with Burbank’s art investment group and ended with Meili getting screwed over, staying destitute, and turning to Johnson. So the key here is who Meili stole the paintings from, not who she sold them to.”
“Her father—Johnny Liu.”
“You got it. He’s the common denominator.”
“We also think he’s the Dragon Head of the Liu Jian Triad. So it’s Liu Xiao’s working for, not Fong. And he’s skyrocketing his way up the ladder. Liu probably sent him to the States right after Cai Wen’s murder. That got Xiao out of the country, and gave Liu the opportunity to expand his illegal operations to the U.S.”
“It all fits. Liu’s got a reputation of being a huge patron of the arts,” Rich added, rubbing the back of his neck to get out the kinks. “A generous benefactor to Chinese museums, donating artifacts and pieces of great cultural significance to landmark museums. He’s also an avid collector. And he’s got more than enough capital to fund the Black Eagles, both internationally and here in the U.S.”
“So he’s paying the Black Eagles to rip off valuable paintings for him. He’s probably keeping some of the works and selling the others, making a killing in the process. And he’s got Xiao Long running the show, at least here in the States. It’s a win-win. Liu adds to his fortune, and Xiao takes a giant step into the triad’s inner circle.” Derek blew out a frustrated breath. “You gotta give Liu credit. He’s smart. He does so much good and in such a public way that he’s a folk hero in the Far East, so legendary that law enforcement doesn’t dare touch him. Not to mention he’s buried every shred of evidence so deep, no one could find it anyway.”
“Cai Wen must have been Liu’s front man in the deal with Burbank’s art investment group,” Rich deduced. “That way, Liu could keep a low profile. Cai Wen would seal the deal and get a percentage. Xiao Long would pick up the painting and bring it to Liu. But Cai Wen got greedy. During the exchange, he tried to squeeze more money out of the deal. So Xiao killed him, grabbed the Rothberg and the money, and brought it all to Liu, who’d probably still own the painting if Meili hadn’t taken off with it four years later.”
“Talk about getting into Liu’s good graces,” Derek muttered. “That was quite a gift from Xiao, not to mention a huge display of loyalty. It probably raised Xiao up about three rungs on the organizational ladder. Which is another reason for Liu to designate him the chosen one and to send him off to New York with the backing and resources to become the Dai Lo of the Red Dragons—and who knows what ther
eafter.”
Rich took another belt of coffee. “Now I understand why Xiao Long was so freaked out when the identical Rothbergs surfaced and I started tracing the provenance of the real deal. It wasn’t just himself he was protecting. It was Johnny Liu. Xiao knew there was a chance that Burbank, Fox, and Leary could identify him from Cai Wen’s murder scene. He had to get his hands on Burbank’s receipt for the Rothberg sale—and he had to scare Burbank and his partners off. He must suspect that C-6 has him and his gang on their radar screen.”
“Oh, he more than suspects. He’s been playing cat and mouse with us for months now. But you’re right. Between his high visibility here, and his involvement in the Rothberg—if the Bureau started connecting the right dots, it would lead them straight to Johnny Liu. And he was protecting his Dragon Head at all costs.”
Rich’s brows drew together. “But the rest of it; Liu’s personal agenda…”
“Sloane was right about that,” Derek broke in. “Her father and his partners are all victims. Xiao’s the long-distance enforcer of Liu’s vendetta. Leary’s dead. Martino’s on the verge of bankruptcy. Burbank’s wife and daughter were both assaulted. Fox I’m not sure about, but I will be after I grill him and find out what he was looking for in Sloane’s files. And Johnson…” Derek sucked in his breath. “Wallace Johnson is the prime target. Having Cindy Liu work her way into his heart and then break it is only a small facet of what her uncle would regard as an eye for an eye. God only knows what else Liu has in store for Johnson.”
In the office of his palatial Hong Kong mansion, Johnny Liu’s private telephone line rang.
He lifted the receiver and, as was his custom, said nothing. If the person at the other end was one of the select few who’d been given this number, he or she would know to speak first.
“Liu? It’s Keong.”
It was Sergeant David Keong, Liu’s best and most loyal contact at the Hong Kong Police Department.
“Yes. Go ahead,” he said, using the Loong Doo dialect the two men shared.
Keong followed suit, stating his business in the same prided dialect. “The FBI has been on the phone with our department all weekend. Many questions about Meili were asked. Answers were supplied by others beyond my influence. The death certificate was located. They are on the verge of figuring things out. I thought you should know right away.”
“You thought correctly. My thanks.”
Liu disconnected the call.
Then he dialed Xiao Long on his throwaway phone.
Xiao answered instantly, greeting his Dragon Head with the utmost respect and, as always, in Loong Doo.
“I just heard from Keong,” Liu said without preamble. “The FBI has made the connection to Meili. It’s time to finish what we’ve begun. You did good work with Leary. Go on to Martino.”
Sloane met Derek at a small café near her parents’ apartment.
“You summoned. I obeyed. Here I am.” She sat down across from Derek at the private corner table he’d requested—but not before giving him a long hello kiss and scrutinizing his face. “You look wiped,” she noted.
“Nothing a little rest won’t fix.”
A teasing smile curved Sloane’s lips. “I have to admit, the five o’clock shadow is kind of sexy.” She reached across the table and rubbed her knuckles against his jaw. “In fact, all of you is kind of sexy. I missed you this weekend.”
“Don’t tempt me. Or we’ll be banished from this café for life.” Derek kissed her fingertips. “The good news is I’m coming home tonight. So you’ll have a chance to show me just how much you missed me. Plan on an allnighter.”
“I’m up for it.” Concern flickered across Sloane’s face. “But I’m not sure you are. Did you get any sleep since Friday?”
“A catnap here and there. But Rich and I finally got our answers.”
“I’m all ears.”
Derek leaned forward, speaking in a hushed tone despite the fact that they were very much alone. “You were right. There’s a major connection between Cindy Liu and Meili. They’re cousins. Meili was Johnny Liu’s daughter.”
Sloane let out a whistle. “That puts things in perspective.”
“Yeah. Also, I ran that background check on Cindy. She’s squeaky clean, from top grades at the best schools to a prestigious job at a major architectural firm. Interesting side note—she and her uncle are very close. As a kid, she traveled with him, grew up at his knee. She was more interested in his world than in the traditional one her parents wanted for her.”
“So she and her uncle planned this.” Sloane gave a rueful shake of her head. “Cindy is part of the retribution Liu has planned for Wallace. He capitalized on his niece’s striking resemblance to Meili, asked her to play it to the hilt and make Wallace fall in love with her. And it worked. What’s more, I doubt it’s more than the tip of the iceberg. If Liu’s hatred has been festering for two and a half years, a broken heart for Wallace is only the beginning.”
“I agree. There’s no doubt that, in Liu’s mind, Wallace is the villain in this tragedy.”
“Liu seems to have selective memory,” Sloane responded drily. “He’s the one who turned his daughter away and virtually disowned her when she came to him, pregnant and alone. I’d say that played a major role in her suicide.”
“No argument. It’s much easier for a proud, stubborn man like Liu to put all the blame on Wallace than to assume any of it himself. But Wallace’s affair with Meili isn’t the only issue here. It’s what Liu sees as instigating it.”
“My father’s art partnership’s lowballing her on the second Rothberg, and forcing her to sell it way below value. Pushing her closer to destitution.” Sloane sighed. “And then the icing on the cake—that stupid bet they made about when Wallace would get her into bed.”
“You got it.” Derek spoke gently but candidly with Sloane. “All five partners were involved in the two events that, in Johnny Liu’s mind, pushed Meili over the edge. We’ve already discussed what he considers to be Wallace’s sins. Ben and your father were the most vocal when it came to intentionally under-valuing the worth of the Rothberg Meili tried to sell them. To top that off, Ben initiated a bet that centered on Meili’s virtue. The sum total of results? Your father’s office has been ransacked, your mother has been beaten up, then kidnapped and nearly killed. As for Ben, he’s been pushed to the point of self-destruction. Phil was killed. That leaves Leo and your father.”
Anxiety tightened Sloane’s features. “You don’t think that what Xiao’s thugs did to my mother, and the knife assault on me, were enough retribution when it comes to my father?”
“Not compared to Ben’s bankruptcy, total alcohol dependence, and possible jail time. Not compared to Phil’s cold-blooded murder. And not compared to whatever vile plan Liu has in store for Wallace. Your mother’s assault at the apartment wasn’t planned; she interrupted the break-in at their apartment. As for her kidnapping, it was aborted before Liu could have her killed. The fact that she’s still alive is a thorn in his side. And the SOB Xiao sent to slash your palm? That was Liu’s idea of a warning for you to back off. Otherwise, he would have sent Xiao himself, or Jin Huang, not some scrawny kid. No, none of those incidents targeted your father’s core, or destroyed him in the fundamental way Liu seems to be aiming for.”
“You’re right,” Sloane replied grimly. “Liu is going for each man’s Achilles’ heel and using it to destroy his life. Especially Wallace. I shudder to think what Liu considers brutal enough for Wallace…” Sloane broke off, all the color draining from her face. “Oh God.”
“What is it?”
For a long moment Sloane didn’t speak. And when she did, it was in a strained, sickened tone. “My father said Meili ended the affair with Wallace around Christmastime 2005. What’s the date on Meili’s death certificate?”
“January 2006.” Derek’s eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out Sloane’s anguished reaction. “The dates make sense.”
“Maybe too much sense.” Sloa
ne squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, there was pain reflected in them. “Derek, the unknown hit-and-run driver who killed Wallace’s daughter, Sophie…” Sloane swallowed hard. “The crime was committed on April 11, 2006. Three months after Meili killed herself.”
“Shit.” Derek felt bile rise in his throat. “That sounds like a hell of a coincidence to me.”
“It sounds like an eye for an eye. Or, in this case, a daughter for a daughter. And if it’s true…Derek, I’m not sure Wallace can survive this.”
“And Liu’s not finished. His plan seems to be coming to a head.”
“Why now?”
“I’m not sure. But I intend to find out. Meanwhile, Phil was just murdered. Cindy Liu is about to tear out whatever’s left of Wallace’s heart, with God knows what to follow.” Derek seized Sloane’s hands. “Listen to me. I’ve already arranged for extra security on Ben, Wallace, Leo, and your father. But they’ve got to be warned that their worlds are about to be blown apart.”
“I agree.” Sloane met Derek’s gaze. “I’ll talk to my dad. I’ll also try to get through to Ben. For Wallace, this news also has to come from me. I’ll see how he handles the part about Meili before I decide if I should mention my theory about Sophie’s death. Right now, it’s pure speculation. But he has to be prepared just in case it turns out to be fact. How and when I tell him…I’ll have to play that one by ear. In the meantime, I don’t want any of the other men to know.”
“I agree.” Derek nodded. “In the meantime, leave Leo to me. He’s met Cindy, and I’m sure he’s seen the resemblance to Meili. So don’t be surprised if, once I fill him in on the kind of danger he’s up against, he figures out that she’s part of this plot. In the meantime, I want to confront him head-on about what he was searching for the night I caught him rifling through your file. I’m hoping that my warning about Liu and Xiao Long, together with what he figures out about Cindy, will rattle him enough to tell me. And if we’re lucky, his answer will give us a clue about Liu’s agenda.”