Chinatown - Part 6 - Another Client

Two Asian men and a black limo were waiting outside my apartment this morning when I stepped out. One of them opened the door to the limo, and the other motioned for me to get in. Neat. I pulled back my coat revealing my holstered gun.

"This a problem for anyone?" I asked.

They shook their heads. I climbed into the limo and realized that the woman who'd attacked me in Natalie's apartment was seated across from me. We stared at each other for a bit, then I took the throwing star I'd been carrying around out of my jacket pocket.

"I think you lost this," I said. "In my arm." Her face remained absolutely motionless as she stared at me. I put it away. "Where are we going?"

"Our employer would like to have a word with you."

"Tanaka?"

She shook her head. The limo started and we took off heading towards the Battery. Any talking during the ride came exclusively from me. I tried to get her to answer a few questions, but she remained quiet. We finally arrived at a large skyscraper at the southern tip of Manhattan. The woman and one of the two men escorted me into the building. We brushed past the security guard with a nod and took the elevator to the 45th floor. There, we walked out into a reception area. The name of the business was something very generic, along the lines of "Venture" or "Endeavor."

We walked past the receptionist down a long hallway to a pair of double doors at the end. They knocked, and at the sound of a gravelly voice saying "enter" they opened the doors and motioned me inside. They didn't come with me, and closed the doors behind me.

The office was positioned in a corner of the building and had a beautiful view of the harbor and the Lady Liberty in the distance. It was the typical office of someone important: huge mahogany desk dominating the room, a large leather executive chair, numerous officious looking books on the wall, and a few framed pictures of wifey and the kids.

The man in the exec chair looked to be Japanese, tall and chubby, with carefully combed hair and manicured fingernails. He was wearing a very nice black suit, and I immediately became conscious of the scruffy, wrinkled clothing I had put on without much thought this morning. He stood up and extended his hand. We shook.

"My name is Saito," he said. "Do you know who I am?"

"I think so," I replied. "You're trying to blackmail Tanaka with a certain videotape."

He nodded, but the nod was slow, and didn't seem to imply a "yes" answer.

"You've met with Mr. Tanaka then." I kept quiet. "And you're working for him, either looking for the girl, or trying to recover the videotape." Still quiet. "I wish I had found out about you first. It could have saved a lot of trouble."

"Could've saved you a lot of trouble if you hadn't tried to blackmail Tanaka," I remarked.

"I didn't do anything to Tanaka," he replied slowly. "Tanaka is trying to blackmail me."

"Bullshit. Prove it."

"Very well." He pressed a button on the intercom system. "Nancy, will you send in my guest?" The receptionist said yes, and several moments of silence followed as Saito and I eyed each other.

Then the door opened, and Natalie came in.

She looked absolutely gorgeous, as good as she had in the Village Voice ad. As I said before, a total knock-out, even without the airbrushing. She came up, shook my hand, and introduced herself. I smiled and nodded, then dropped the smile and turned back to Saito.

"So this girl brought you a tape of Tanaka to blackmail him with."

"So you have spoken with Tanaka," he continued. "Have a seat, my dear," he said to Natalie, who was being quiet. "Let me try to clear a few things up. First of all, Tanaka told you the correct story, but with the names reversed. I have been the one meeting with Natalie for some time now. It is I, and not Tanaka, who rented the apartment in Chinatown for us to meet. We had this arrangement for a number of months. Natalie?"

"I got a call to go to the apartment one night," she said. Her voice soft, but at the time suggested a lifetime of experience that had completely vanquished any hint of innocence. "I got there, and Tanaka was waiting. He had found out about the apartment, called as Mr. Saito, and met me. They strapped me to the wall and...tortured me." My mind thought back to the star I'd found in the wall. "They told me they'd kill me unless I helped them get a video of Mr. Saito and myself, and I believed them. I'm not in a position to protect myself. I can't go to the police, and Tanaka made it clear that he could kill me at any time and no one would know. I was given a camera to make the video and met Mr. Saito. And like an idiot I went through with it. I made the video. I called Tanaka the next day to confirm that I had a copy, as well as several duplicates. But then I got scared, and came to Mr. Saito and told him everything.."

"I have a special affection for Natalie," Saito continued, "and understand the position she is in. I know my colleague very well, and am sure that he will make good on his threats out of sheer spite. It's not like anyone will miss a Chinatown whore for more than week." I thought Natalie would hit him for that, but she only smiled and he smiled back, as if it was some sort of inside joke. "She's been with me ever since, keeping a low profile both from Tanaka and my wife." He chuckled at this last line. I kept a straight face.

"I had sent my employee, Kameko, to gather a few of Natalie's belongings. I knew that Tanaka would try to hunt down both Natalie and a copy of the video tape, and made sure Kameko had taken the necessary precautions. And this is where we first encountered you. I must apologize for what happened to your arm, and will gladly pay any medical expenses you incurred." I shook my head.

"Just a paper cut."

"Very tough front you put forth," he said. "Kameko is trained in numerous fighting styles, and I am glad she didn't feel more threatened by your presence. You could have been killed." If that wasn't a blow to my manhood, I don't know what is. "She left, but followed you after. She reported back to me, and I've since had you followed to try and learn who you were working for. We were worried you had been employed by Tanaka to find the tape, but then again, we knew you weren't the first to visit the apartment. Tanaka's men arrived before Kameko and yourself, and ransacked the place. Also, to be frank, you don't look the part."

"I'm not working for Tanaka," I confirmed. "At least, I wasn't. I was working for your friend Ruby." Natalie looked at me with a big question mark across her face. "You don't have a friend Ruby who works in the business with you?"

She shook her head. "I don't know any of the other girls. I've kept my distance." "My guess is that Tanaka hired her to put forth a believable story in trying to locate you," said Saito.

"He also hired me directly a couple days ago," I said.

"Probably to steer you in the direction he wanted you to go in. Let's put it this way: when you came in this office, Saito was the bad guy in your mind, right? Hopefully, I've cleared this up."

This was the overstatement of the year. I'd been told all the details, but at this early in the morning and without a cup of coffee, my mind was spinning faster than a Turkish Twist.

"So you've been seeing Natalie," I said to Saito. "Your rival Tanaka learns this. He threatens Natalie and forces her to film you. She does, contacts him, then goes to you for help. You hide her. He hires me through Ruby to find her. I'm moving too slow, so he hires me directly to push me in the right direction. And he tells me a bullshit story that makes him sound like the victim and you the enemy."

"Probably so that if the name Saito came up, which it inevitably would, you would have negative preconceptions."

"And the one who attacked me - "

"Kameko."

"Kameko, she was just at the apartment to collect some of Natalie's thing?"

"Precisely." It all seemed to check out.

"So what do we do now?"

"I'd like to hire you." Wow. Three different clients on one case is a bit unusual for me.

"What for?"

"I will pay you the money that is owed, and most likely will not be paid, by Tanaka and Ruby, for your services. I would like you to come up with something on Tanaka, something we can use to even the score and make it safe for Natalie to walk the streets again."

"Any leads? Does Tanaka go to a prostitute of some kind?"

"Almost definitely, but I do not have specifics. That is why I'd like to hire you."

I took the case. It's clear at this point that I won't be able to deliver to either Tanaka or Ruby, and it's equally unlikely that they'll pay me for the work I've done so far. And in the end, I hate being taken for a ride, so there's a bit of revenge in here too.

I'm back in my office now, and I've been trying to figure out what plan of action I can take against Tanaka. But I've got nothing as of yet, other than to follow him and hope to dig something up. Any easier suggestions? Otherwise, my weekend looks shot.

Followed

Two guys definitely followed me to the deli on the corner when I went for lunch.

Update - 9:42PM.

They followed me home. For those who suggested I follow the followers - It's hard to follow people that are following you, because you end up bumping into each other. Either that, or you wind up in a big confrontation that gets you a black eye or a lot of lies, and neither is beneficial. At the moment, I'm going to let it continue, because they're certainly not going to learn anything by following me. And something might just pan out from it.

Chinatown - Part 5 - A Dangerous Man

There is a Chinese restaurant in the heart of Chinatown that probably hasn’t been visited by the Board of Health in decades. Cockroaches and rats run freely in the alley beside it, and you’d have to be an idiot not to think they all make their way into the kitchen shortly after closing. The two front windows are yellowed from age and slimy with grease, and the food inside doesn’t look any more appealing.

This was the address I had been given for the weapons store. No other details had been provided. I stood around outside for a while debating whether to go inside or wait for a contact. As I was standing there, a truck pulled up and parked, and two men began unloading boxes of food supplies. Those who know New York are aware that most buildings have their own basement entrance through two metal doors in on the sidewalk. The sidewalk doors in front of the Chinese restaurant opened, and a small busboy stepped out. He walked over to the truck, signed for the order, then picked up one of the many boxes.

As he walked by me, he said “Carry one and follow.” I quickly grabbed a box filled with beer cans and proceeded down the steep concrete steps into the basement. The basement was filled with boxes and refrigerators containing various foodstuffs, and reeked of that smell all cheap Chinese restaurants have. The busboy indicated where to set down the beer, then nodded at a door in the corner. Then he left.

The door was large, wooden, and locked. I knocked on it loudly, and after a moment, someone asked my name. I gave it, and I heard the click of a lock being opened. The door swung in.

The room on the other side was completely empty save for a desk which was stationed in the exact middle. The desktop was similarly bare, with only a telephone and a composition notebook on top. Two chairs were in front. The only source of light was a hanging bulb; there were no windows. An elderly man was seated behind it reading a book and twirling a small throwing knife in his fingers absentmindedly. He didn’t look up when I came in.

“Do you want me to shut this?” I asked. No answer from him. I shrugged and started to close the door.

Suddenly, I heard a whoosh of air, followed by a thwack, and I realized I was caught. I looked down to see the knife stuck through my jacket into the door. I turned quickly to see the old man still engrossed in his book while twirling another knife in his hand.

I pulled the knife out of the door and finished closing it.

“Neat trick,” I said. “But make sure I don’t catch you in the act next time, or you might find a bullet in your skull.” I dropped the knife on the table, and he looked up. He looked to be in his late 60’s, with long white hair and a moustache that vaguely brought to mind the facial hair of Fu Manchu, though to say there was a resemblance would be an exaggeration.

“A bullet? You wouldn’t have the time, young man,” he said, smiling. “You’d be dead before you pulled the trigger.”

“I’m pretty fast.”

“I’m faster.”

For a moment, I thought we were going to have a face-off – him with his knives and me with my gun. And in all honesty, I’m not sure who would have won. Luckily, our duel never came about. He broke into a hoarse laugh and motioned for me to sit down. I did.

“What can I do for you?”

“You make weapons?”

“Yes.”

I took out the throwing star and the broken prong I had found embedded in the wall of Tanaka’s apartment and let them drop on the desk.

“Who did you make these for?”

He picked them both up and studied them for a moment. “They are different. I made this one,” he said, indicating the one that had been thrown at my arm. “This one, however, was not of my handiwork.”

“How do you know? They look exactly the same to me.”

“They follow a well-known design,” he continued, “but there is a difference. Whereas this one is perfectly weighted, expertly sharpened, and bears the mark of genius craftsmanship, this broken blade is of much cheaper quality.”

“They still look the same to me,” I said. “And I have reason to believe they came from the same person.”

“They didn’t. The person I made this star for would never stoop to using such trash.”

“Who did you make the one star for then?”

He turned it over in his fingers. “There are flakes of blood on it. Yours?”

“Yep.” He laughed. “You find that funny, huh?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Very amusing. I will make you a deal. I normally would never divulge a customer’s name, but will make an exception if you can prove yourself. See that mark on the wall?”

He pointed at the far wall, on which a small red X was painted. “Hit that with a bullet before I do so with a knife and I will tell you.”

Without thinking, I ripped out my gun and sent a bullet flying toward the X. I turned to look at the old man, and saw he hadn’t moved.

“So will you tell me now?” I asked.

He nodded at the mark. I turned to look and realized that something was sticking out of the middle of the X. I got up close and realized the truth. The end of a knife was sticking straight out of the center of the mark. My bullet had shattered the handle, but it was clear that he had reached it first.

“That is all I can do for you,” he said, and resumed reading. I trained my gun on him.

“Maybe you can do a little more.”

He yawned. “I have already surprised you twice today. Would really like me to surprise you a third time by killing you?”

He had a point. I waited for a moment, but it was clear our conversation was over. I kept my gun trained on him and backed out of the room.

“Thank you for coming,” he said without looking up. I closed the door.

Back on the street, I was kicking myself. Not that I know of anything I could have done differently, but I had just met someone who knows the woman who attacked me at Natalie’s apartment, and I hadn’t learned a thing. Well, that’s not entirely true. If what the old guy had told me was accurate, there was a big difference in the star that had been pulled from the wall in Tanaka’s apartment and the star that had been thrown at me in Natalie’s apartment. One was more amateurish, the other a master. Maybe two different employees, and maybe hired by two different employers? Not sure if that means anything yet, but it might.

I started to walk home. The last thing I wanted at this point was the roar of the subway making my headache even worse. As I walked into Soho, my sixth sense started twitching. I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see anyone. I continued walking, but I was still getting that crowding sensation, as if someone was getting too close too often. I still didn’t notice anyone in particular, but it was really bugging me. I saw a subway stop and went down into it. The train was arriving, and I swiped through the turnstile and darted into the car. No one followed me, as far as I can tell. But I’ve been on my guard ever since.

I’m totally lost here. My field trip to the weapons dealer clearly failed, bringing me back to square one. This Saito guy might be involved somehow, but I have no clue how I’m going to get in touch with him now. Maybe I’ll get in touch with Tanaka again, though I don’t know what good that would do.

To top it off, my arm is aching more than ever, which is just pissing me off. Ugh.

Chinatown - Part 4 - Mr. X

Ruby called me on Monday and told me to stay by the phone. It rang again a few hours later. The man on the line was Mr. X himself, who asked me to meet him at his apartment down near Gramercy Park. He knew I was looking for him, he said, and had as much desire to speak with me as I to him. I tried to get him to meet in an open area, but he was absolutely resistant. He assured me that no harm would come to me and that he just wanted to talk, but that it had to be absolutely secure and private.

I suited up with a concealed gun and a few conveniently placed knives, then called a couple of friends to let them know where to find my corpse in case they didn’t hear from me over the next few weeks. I took a cab down to the address he had given me near Gramercy Park. Mr. X – who we will now call Mr. Tanaka, as per the alias he gave to the escort service – lives in a very large high-rise building that clearly costs a fortune.

A million thoughts were racing through my mind as the elevator ascended to the 32nd floor. Would I be greeted with a team of women similar to the one who had decided to remove a chunk of my arm the other night? Was I about to step into a situation straight out of a Hong Kong kung fu flick? I had a sneaking suspicion that Tanaka’s wife would turn out to be the attacker from Natalie’s apartment.

I was wrong on all accounts. The door was indeed opened by Tanaka’s wife, but she was the complete opposite of the woman that had attacked me. She was probably in her 50’s, short, with a rounded body and face, and graying black hair pulled tightly back into a bun.

“I’m here to see Mr. Tanaka,” I told her.

“We’ve been expecting you,” she said with a grandmotherly expression of kindness covering her face. “Come in!” Huh. No ninja assassins just yet, but perhaps it was all a ruse to lower my guard. I kept my hand within gun-grabbing reach.

The apartment was enormous and modern in design. We entered the living room, which centered around a small rectangular pool in which brilliantly colored goldfish were swimming. Several expensive-looking black leather couches surrounded it. The walls were white and lined with antique bookshelves filled with books that looked centuries old. A pleasing combination of old and new.

Tanaka was seated on one couch reading a book, and he stood up to greet me. He was an older man, also in his 50’s, with graying hair slicked backwards. His face was a map of wrinkles, but his body looked quite fit and strong. He was dressed in a perfectly-pressed business suit.

“Welcome,” he said, shaking my hand. “Please sit down.”

I was still on edge, which was probably very obvious to him. “Do not be afraid,” he continued. He called to his wife, and asked if I wanted tea or coffee, both of which I turned down. He then asked his wife to leave, and closed the doors. He took a seat across from me.

“I think I know your type,” he said without any animosity. “You won’t tell me anything. You expect me to tell you everything, but every attempt I make to get answers from you will result in failure.”

I shrugged. “That’s the nature of my profession.”

“Save your questions then. Let me do some talking, and if you have any questions after, feel free to ask them. I wish to hire you.” Suddenly, my brain desperately wanted to ask a million question, but my mouth stayed shut.

“I will be perfectly honest with you, Mr. Dick. I have been hiring women to perform sexual services for about as long as I have been a businessman. I’ve been married for just as long. It’s very common in my world, and I would be hard-pressed to think of a single colleague who has not engaged in this type of behavior at one time or other.

“I met Natalie sometime ago and fell in love with her instantly. Not in the serious sense, but in the carefree, casual way. She was beautiful, was comfortable with what I liked in bed, and had a great personality for those awkward conversations before and after. I requested her again and again, and we became familiar with each other. She was my favorite, and I rented out an apartment in Chinatown for us to meet at – which I am told you also know about.

“Then I made the mistake of divulging factual information about myself and my livelihood. It was a stupid error that should have never happened, but I thought nothing of it at the time. I described to her my business, the history of my life, my financial status and power. I thought there was an unsaid agreement between the two of us, but apparently, there was not. She announced to me last Friday that she had secretly filmed one of our sessions together, and wanted a substantial amount of money to keep it quiet and not tell my wife. A substantial amount, Mr. Dick. The tape was quite explicit.

“Her intention was to blackmail me without end. I know where that road leads, and I sized her threat up in my mind. Ultimately, it seemed baseless. If I refused to pay, she would gain nothing personally from telling my wife, and would most likely lose her job and any trustworthy reputation. I offered her a single payment in return for the tape, but she turned it down. She wanted monthly payments, and would settle on no less. I tested her. I blew up in her face. Screamed threats at her, and threw her out of the apartment. All was without substance, but it seemed to work. She left, and I have not heard from her since, nor has my wife. I also terminated my lease on the apartment and had it cleaned out.

“It perhaps hadn’t occurred to Natalie or myself at the time, but she had far more bargaining power than she realized. I began remembering the conversations we’d had, in which I had gone into detail about competitors – and I suspect she has by now remembered them as well. I am now aware that it is in my interest to retrieve that video at any cost. The revelation could very much harm my reputation.

“I realize that you are already searching for Natalie under the employment of another client. I would like to employ you for a related task – to find the video for me. Now – do you have any questions”

Two paychecks for the same case. Not too shabby, but then again, I wasn’t about to work for a guy whose hired goon tried to kill me.

“Have you been to Natalie’s apartment since Friday?” I asked.

“No. I do not even know where she lives,” he replied calmly.

“But you could find out.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You already seem to know some information I didn’t think anyone had access to.”

“Yes, I could easily learn where Natalie lives, but I have no desire to – wait.” He paused, then: “Has someone been to her apartment?”

“Remember that rule about trying to get information out of me,” I said. “Let’s just say that if I learn you had any connection to what happened to me this weekend, I have no qualms in making many, many different parties aware of it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, and his voice sounded innocent enough.

“Who do you suspect she might have gone to with the video?”

“It is possible that she may have gone to a man who not only works at a rival company, but whom I would consider to be a rival to me personally. This man and I have met in the past in some bad clashes. His name is Saito.”

“Address? Phone?”

Tanaka laughed. “If I told you any such identifying information, he would be aware of your attempts to use it to get to him immediately. He is a very powerful man, perhaps moreso than myself, and I’m going to have to leave it to you to devise a backdoor method of learning more about him.”

“You could really save me a lot of trouble.”

“Sorry. It’s for your own protection. Simply continue in your investigation, and see if his name comes up. If not, ignore it. His is the only name I mentioned personally. I may have mentioned businesses, but Natalie would have to literally walk into the reception desk to get anywhere with the video. And such business do not typically deal with whores.”

I took the case. Hell, I’m working the case to begin with – why not get another paycheck off of it? And if it turns out Tanaka was behind Natalie’s disappearance or the attack at her apartment, I’ll make good on my threat. When people take swings at me, I like to return the favor.

I got back to my office in the evening to find a brief voicemail message from the man from the martial arts supply store. It was simply a date, time, and location. The location I’ll have to keep quiet, but the date is Wednesday, September 22nd, and the time is 1:00PM.

Apparently, that’s my appointment with a man who makes very, very dangerous weapons.