To Catch the Setting Sun, page 19
“No, haven’t had the opportunity, but I’d like to. Maybe when this is all over.”
“It was a way for the adults to blow off steam from a hard week, yeah? They didn’t have the kind of jobs that paid a whole lot, and we all didn’t have much, but we had family, food from our gardens, meat from the wild game that roams the mountains. We had the beach and the ocean…that’s life for us here, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know. Maya once told me about it. I still see that going on all the time. It’s nice.”
“One weekend, Auntie T shows up with this loser…Nicky. Right away nobody liked him. He had this bad energy about him. We all felt it. We could see it in his eyes, especially the way he leered at the women. He was this big know-it-all thinking he was gonna teach us everything about anything. And he’d be telling these stories about how he was in the military and how he had PTSD from Desert Storm and stuff like that. Two of my uncles were in that conflict. They’d never talk about it like this guy did. Hell, years later I was over there with the guard. I saw too many of my sisters and brothers in uniform lose their lives, so if there’s one thing that really pisses me off, it’s stolen valor. Anyway, he’d force himself into conversations and claim to be an expert on everything. He’d even try to tell one auntie how to improve her mac salad. Bruddah, when you’re an outsider, you don’t do that shit. But the thing that got people mad was how he tried to convince all of us that he was one of us. In private he had a short, violent temper. When the men of the family mocked him or the aunties told him to mind his own business, or even when the kids started to laugh at him, he’d go home and take it out on Auntie T, that fucking coward.”
“I don’t get it. Why’d she put up with that? Why’d she stay with him?”
“Why does any woman stay with a man who beats her? Many reasons, yeah? Anyway, he got her pregnant, and she didn’t wanna be a single mom. We got too much of that up on the coast. Too many girls getting pregnant in high school. Too many sixteen- and seventeen-year-old babies raising babies.” She shook her head. “Anyway, when some of the uncles found out about the baby, they had a long talk with him. It kind of settled him down for a while, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed the attention and started up with his shit again. Kept getting into fights at work and fired from his jobs. HPD would show up in the middle of the night, wanting to question him about a break-in somewhere or a stolen car. The family told Auntie T that he was not family and to not bring him to our gatherings anymore. That’s when he started running scams on the people in the homestead. He’d spend whatever money he got on drugs or in the illegal gambling rooms. He’d steal things, then use that stuff to pay off the bookies. Got caught with young girls. And the more he got mocked for trying to tell people he was one of us, the more he’d take it out on Auntie T. One day when I came home from school, she was at my house. Her face looked like she was in a boxing match. She couldn’t open one eye, and her lips were so swollen she could hardly speak.”
Her eyes glazing over, Kaelani grew quiet as she remembered seeing a cigarette burn mark on her Auntie Tesha’s cheek. It surprised her that she had forgotten about that.
“What? What’s that look? You okay?”
“…everyone in the family tried to get her to leave him. She was always a bit pigheaded. About a week later we all stopped hearing from her. She disappeared. Nicky said she ran off, but I know my auntie. She wouldn’t do that and leave the baby with that bastard. But he’s the one who ended up running off to California because he knew if he stayed, he was gonna get his. He was gonna get it the Waianae way. You know what I’m saying?”
Henry nodded.
“Any idea what happened to your auntie?”
“Oh, I’ve got an idea all right. He had rented a boat for a ‘nighttime fishing trip’ the same time she went missing. We all think he beat her to death, chopped her up, and dumped her into the ocean.”
“And no one called HPD?”
“The police were called. Unis came out, looked around, and took a report. They said they’d turn it over to the detectives, but we should be patient because they were backlogged. About a week later a detective showed up to investigate. A fucking week later! Not surprised he found nothing if you can believe it. The guy who rented the boat to him claimed he saw nothing. The harbor master saw nothing. And except for fish blood, scales, and that kind of stuff from later rentals, the boat was clean. His car was clean.”
“The house?”
“No evidence of a murder found anywhere.”
“Maybe she did run off?”
“Do you really believe that? Do you really think he didn’t kill her, chop her up, and feed her to the sharks?”
“No, of course not. So what do you think? Sloppy investigating or just a lack of the technology we have today?”
“Both. But now you know why I got pissed off when you called my investigation sloppy. It’s a sensitive subject with me, and I was already pissed that the lieutenant kept getting in my way.”
“I see that now. I’m sorry…really, I owe you an apology for that…so, what happened to the baby?”
“Nicky Junior? Thank God that prick wanted nothing to do with his son, so he was raised by the other aunties. I hear he turned out good. He lives on the mainland now…has no contact with his father, but then again, he has no real contact with the rest of us.”
“I can see why you’ve got a score to settle with him.”
“And I’m going to. You can count on it.”
When Kaelani’s phone buzzed with a text from the D.A.’s office, she smiled at Henry.
“We got our warrant!”
****
Amy Nguyen jumped when she noticed the flashing blue lights in her rearview mirror. She pulled her car over to the shoulder and readied her license, registration, proof of insurance, and a notepad with pen while cursing her luck.
“Fuck me, not again! I can’t afford another ticket,” she vented before lowering her window and took notice of the officer’s badge number. When she got stopped for running a red light a few weeks prior, that officer had propositioned her in exchange for ignoring the infraction. She said no, a traffic ticket was written, and she filed a sexual harassment complaint with the city against the wishes of her family.
Having escaped the communist government in Vietnam many years before, her parents were still afraid to confront the authorities on any level or for any reason. Among the other lessons to help their children navigate life in America, Amy’s parents often warned her and her siblings about the many pitfalls of questioning those with any power. Amy, however, was American born, grew up in an environment that also taught her to stand up and speak out against injustice, and was no different than many of her generation. She couldn’t help but wonder if, because of her actions, she was now being targeted.
“License, reg—”
“Registration, proof of insurance, yeah, yeah, I know the drill,” she said while handing over her documents. “Do you mind telling me what I did wrong, Officer?”
“A few things, actually. You ran the stop sign after you pulled out of the convenience store, and you made an unsafe lane change. I’ve been following you for a couple miles, hoping you’d see me and begin driving a little more responsibly. But I guess you were too focused on your cell phone.”
“You gotta be kidding me, I wasn’t on my…” She quickly checked herself, took a breath, and began again. “I can explain, Officer. I wasn’t on my cell phone, and I honestly didn’t see the stop sign. It must have been covered over by tree branches or something. And I swerved to avoid that pothole. Did you see how big that was?”
“Uh-huh, I see. Shut off your engine and sit tight. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Shit, I’m screwed!” she said under her breath. “My mom’s gonna freak all over me!”
Because of her previous experience with HPD, she was quick to write down the officer’s shield number after he had walked back to his car to run her information and check for any outstanding warrants. In the meantime, she phoned a friend from her acting class who counseled her to livestream the event and “make sure you show a little cleavage, but not too much. A little more thigh is good too, but don’t be too obvious about it. You don’t wanna come off as a slut. Oh, and don’t spare the tears, baby girl. Let ’em flow, just like when we do a scene in Scott’s acting classes. That’s your strength, so use it.” When the officer finally returned with citation in hand, her performance, while convincing, failed to play on his emotions.
“The stop sign is clearly visible, young lady. If you want to contest that in court, you have that option. And since you’re recording all this on your phone, I recommend you drive back there, use it to take some pictures of the intersection and that stop sign. Bring it with you when you fight your ticket. If the judge feels the sign is obscured, the picture will help get the ticket dismissed. I also suggest that you dress a little more conservatively and try to hold off on the tears, and maybe that too will be taken into consideration. As far as swerving to avoid a pothole, I recommend that you drive the speed limit or a little slower and stay in your lane so you don’t risk causing an accident.” He then looked directly at the cell phone camera. “My name is Officer Tadesco, shield number eight-three-two-two. Please drive safe and have a nice day.”
Amy remained parked on the shoulder and continued to livestream about the experience, adding salty commentary about her previous encounter with the police when a black sedan pulled up behind her.
“What now?” she remarked to her video audience. “I hope this isn’t another cop!”
She spied the plainclothes officer’s badge and gun holstered on his hip, lowered her window one more time, and set the phone on the dash to allow the livestream to continue.
“Excuse me, miss. Inspector Benjamin, Hank Benjamin from HPD’s special investigations unit,” he said, failing to notice her phone.
“Yes, sir, is something wrong?” she politely inquired while noting shield number 7511.
“Yes, I was parked a little ways back and was watching the officer who pulled you over. I noticed you got a ticket. I’d like to see it.”
“Sure, here you go. What’s this about?”
“One second, Ms…Newjen, Nig…guy…”
“Wen, it’s pronounced Wen.”
“Right.” He resented being corrected. “Officer Tadesco, just as I thought.” Nicky Costa lifted the police scanner to his mouth as if it were a two-way radio. “Inspector eight-one to dispatch. Have Officer Tadesco meet me at the station, over.” The scanner crackled, naturally with an unrelated call. “Yeah, copy that, dispatch. Will do.”
“Inspector, do you mind if I ask what’s going on?”
“We’ve been watching this guy for several weeks now. We got several complaints he’s been pulling over young girls like you just to get their addresses. Then he shows up where they live saying he feels bad about giving them the ticket, and, well, you can figure out the rest. I’m gonna bet he said you ran a red light.”
“A stop sign. He said I ran a stop sign. But it shows that on the ticket.”
“Yeah, I know, his handwriting is bad, but that’s him all right. I’m gonna have to ask you to come with me to the station.”
“Why, what for?”
“It looks like we’re gonna have to suspend him, but you’ll have to give us a statement for the record.”
“I’m not so sure about that. I already have one complaint against a cop, and I don’t want…”
“Look, come help us out, and I can get this ticket canceled for you.”
“If you know it’s not a legit ticket, you should have it canceled anyway, and you don’t need me to—”
“Hey, if you don’t wanna help us, I understand,” he interrupted, his patience growing thin, “but look, the department needs your help to get these creeps away from the public. If you don’t help, he’s gonna just keep doing this to Asian women just like you. Do you want that? Do you want that to be your fault?”
“No, I don’t…okay, but I’ll drive over and meet you at the police station.”
“No!” he shouted which startled her. “I mean, if you’re worried about your car, don’t be. It’ll be safe here. I, uh, I also need to ask you some important questions on the way. So, come on, we’re wasting time!” His tone made her more uncomfortable.
She heard her phone vibrate against the dashboard and glanced over to see a text:
—I don’t think that guy’s a real cop. Don’t go with him! Lock your doors! I’ll call 911!—
“On second thought, I don’t wanna go with you. I wanna see some I.D.”
“Here’s my badge”—he pointed—“go ahead and write down my number. Now enough of this, I’m trying to do you a favor.” At the sound of the lock engaging, he pulled hard on the door handle.
“I want you to get your supervisor here.”
“Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna have to ask you to step out of your car.”
“Wait, what? What’s going on here?”
“The computer shows that you have a suspended license, and the car is unregistered. Step out from the car right now!”
“That’s ridiculous! The other cop didn’t say anything about that, and I know you didn’t check any computer!”
“I…I got the report on the radio when I pulled up behind you. Now for the last time, get out of your car”—his voice loud and serious—“and slowly, with nothing in your hands.”
“You’re not a cop! I’m not getting out!” she yelled and tried to turn the ignition key.
Costa felt the surge of power when he saw panic on the girl’s face. In an attempt to maintain the façade, he turned up the volume knob on his scanner for added realism, then held it to his mouth while grabbing for the ignition key.
“Inspector eight-one to central. Let Lieutenant Mendoza know that the driver of the vehicle matches the description of that Chinese drug dealer we’ve been looking for, and she’s resisting.”
“You’re crazy! I’m no drug dealer, and I’m not even Chinese, you racist fu—”
Before she could say another word, he grabbed her by the throat, pulled her through the open window, and used his large frame and meaty hands to slam her head into the windshield. He landed another blow to the side of her face. Her body went limp and couldn’t fight back as he tie-wrapped her wrists and dragged her off to his car—tossing her into the back seat as if she were a stuffed toy. Costa glared at the few homeless bystanders. And while most swiftly walked away, to make the charade complete for the couple onlookers who remained, he went back to her car, pulled a small bag of white powder from his pocket, grabbed her phone, and brought both items back to finish the scene.
“So, you’re not a drug dealer? You wanna tell me about this?”
“You’re c-crazy,” she slurred, too woozy to sit upright. “That’s not m-mine, and you’re not a c-cop.”
“Tell me another one, liar.” He held up the bag in full view of the livestream. “I found this in your glove box.”
“Not t-true. I don’t do…”
“Look at you, you’re all doped up on your own merchandise. I’m taking you downtown. You’re going to jail.”
“It’s not mine, I t-tell you. I’m n-no drug d-dealer. I’m an h-honor s-student at the u-university.”
As they drove off, she helplessly watched Costa bashing her phone before tossing the shattered pieces onto the roadway.
****
Going through his planned dialogue before heading out to confront Costa, Billy decided to check with Captain Tanaka how Mendoza’s arrest would go down. Channeling what Henry would do to a cop who had ordered an assassination—even if it was on someone like Costa—Billy had strongly lobbied for a public display that would send a strong message to the rank and file at the West Oahu precinct. Tanaka, however, explained one more time why it needed to be done with discretion, cautioning against personal retribution or any advocacy for a public thrashing which would have repercussions as word traveled throughout the entire department.
“You gotta keep in mind, Billy, there are others in this building who are part of that group. They’ll condemn you as a rat, a traitor. And if that happens, who’s ever gonna work with you? Who’ll watch your six? Do you think you’d be safe going on a call into the back country not knowing what or who could be waiting for you in the bush? Do you wanna spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder? Look at me. I’ve got this thing handled. I’m sending Mendoza down to headquarters on an errand. He’ll think he’s there to pick up some important documents. Federal agents will be waiting to take him into custody, and no one will know we had anything to do with it.”
“But he will definitely think I had something to do with it. He’ll still spread the word to everyone he can think of.”
“Or, once he’s detained and being questioned, an agent could let it slip that they’ve had a man on the inside of his separatist group for quite some time.”
“And he’ll think I was helping in some way. He’ll think I was wearing a wire.”
“You’re overthinking this. I don’t think he’s that smart, and I think you’re a little paranoid. Anyway, it’ll definitely stir up a lot of distrust among their ranks while trying to figure out who the inside man is or what, if anything else, is going on.” Tanaka smiled.
Back at his desk, Iona checked the ammo clip in his gun, holstered his weapon, and stood to leave when his phone buzzed. It was Mendoza.
“Now’s not a good time, Lieutenant.” He looked across the room to Peter’s desk.
“It’s never a good time, is it? Look, about our boy—”
“No worries, I’m on my way to take care of it now.”
