They know that if they co-operate and are found out, they’re dead. If they go into Witness Protection, then a loved one or a relative will be killed.”
“And you think you have someone leaking info’ to the Chinese in your office.” Jack sighed.
“It seems to be Chinese-oriented, but regardless, if you’re meeting a Vietnamese informant tomorrow, be damned careful what you put down on paper or who you tell. CC-1 and VC-1 meet regularly. If it is serious enough, I could see the information being passed on.”
Jack thanked Roger and after he hung up, he passed on what he had been told to Laura who copied the information down in her own notebook.
When Jack was finished, Laura perused her notes and said, “If AOCTF is right, it looks like Tom Nguyen VC-3 would have told the two punks in the car and Harry Ho in the van to do the hit … but why?”
“Which is what we need to find out. Speaking of Harry Ho, what did you learn from his P.O.?”
“Ho is currently serving probation on top of a previous probation period for his third conviction of trafficking in cocaine.”
“Bet that teaches him a lesson,” said Jack sarcastically. “No, wait, yesterday he sat in a van and picked out someone to be murdered. Could it possibly be that our criminal justice system has a flaw in it?”
“Actually his P.O. has great hopes for him,” replied Laura.
“Wonderful,” said Jack, lamely. “I take it the P.O. doesn’t know why we’re interested?”
“No. I gave him the bogus bit about his car being one of dozens that we were checking and said he might not be involved in our investigation.”
“Third dope trafficking conviction with no penalty,” Jack muttered. “Why would the P.O. think he would change?”
“Says he is holding down a job as a take-out delivery driver at a restaurant and —”
“Let me guess. The Hanoi House?”
“My God, Sherlock? How did you figure that one out?” replied Laura, with mock surprise.
“And he is obviously making good money on tips to be able to afford a new car,” added Jack.
“Obviously. I don’t think the P.O. realizes that besides delivering egg rolls, they also deliver dope. The fact is, Ho must be making really good money. The P.O. said Ho has no parents and is living with his grandmother and helping her pay the mortgage. On top of that, he is supporting a younger sister living in the home who is still going to school.”
“Perfect,” said Jack. His face hardened and he looked at Laura and said, “We’ve got a rat in a trap. Time to go home and get some sleep. We’ll start our next shift at three in the morning.”
“What will we be doing at three a.m. on a Friday morning?” asked Laura.
“First I’ll get a cheap transistor radio.”
“Then what?”
“Smash it with a hammer.” Jack grinned at Laura’s puzzled expression. “You’ll see. It’ll be fun. Another one of those grey areas.”
Chapter Nine
It was eleven-thirty on Friday morning, when Harry Ho pushed a shopping cart across the parking lot of a bulk grocery store. He loaded the order of chicken and pork for the restaurant into the back of the van and was about to close the rear door when he heard a woman’s voice behind him.
“Excuse me, are you done with the cart?” she asked.
Ho turned around and saw a man and a woman. Before he could reply, the man grabbed him by the throat with one hand and shoved him backward onto the van floor. Ho opened his mouth and gasped in fear. Fear that gave rise to absolute terror when the man stuck the business end of a Smith & Wesson 9mm semi-automatic pistol into his mouth.
“You’re under arrest,” growled Jack, noting the relief flash across Ho’s face when he realized he wasn’t about to be murdered.
Ho remained silent as Jack searched him. The only item found of significance was his cellphone, which Jack handed to Laura.
Seconds later, Harry Ho was sitting with his hands handcuffed behind his back and propped up against the inside wall of the van. Jack parted the curtains leading to the front to allow light in as Laura left, closing the rear door behind her.
Jack then sat, resting his back against the van wall while staring quietly at Ho who was across from him.
“What’s this all about?” sneered Ho, putting on a false bravado. “You got nothing on me. What am I being charged with? Dope?”
“Dope? Why would you jump to that conclusion?” asked Jack.
Ho stared sullenly at Jack, then blurted, “Give me my phone back. I want to call my lawyer.”
“You may be interested in what we have on you,” replied Jack, “and the consequences of your actions.”
“What consequences?” snickered Ho.
“That will be for you to decide. I’ll explain all about it when my partner returns. In the meantime, relax.” Jack smiled. “Tell me, how is your grandmother doing?”
Ho frowned. “She’s fine. Why? What does this have to do with her?”
“And your little sister?”
“She’s fine too. Why are you asking? They don’t have anything to do with anything.”
“You’re not entirely a bad guy,” said Jack. “Helping out with the mortgage. Making sure your little sister goes to school. Although, someday, I suppose you think the house will be yours.”
“That is not why I am doing it,” said Ho, defensively. “My grandmother raised us since we were little. She will live a long time yet. I’ll have my own house by the time she dies.”
“Really?” Jack smiled as though he were hiding something.
Ho scowled at Jack and said, “I’m not talking to you anymore until I speak with my lawyer.”
Jack nodded. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you were quiet. I’ve become quite sick of listening to your voice this past while.”
Ho looked startled. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see.”
Eventually Laura returned and opened the rear door and motioned for Jack to step out so she could talk to him in private.
Jack eased himself out of the van, but left the door open to keep an eye on Ho as he and Laura stepped back out of earshot.
“He made a call to another cellphone,” whispered Laura, “starting six minutes before Betty Donahue was run over and ending about the time of her death.”
“Do we know who owns
