“Something was really out of place at the party tonight,” said Laura.

“That being?” asked Jack.

“All the guests. With the exception of the seven hookers who arrived first, everyone else was either dressed—or acted—like lower-class hoods and gangsters.”

“Hoods and gangsters ... there’s an old expression. You been watching The Untouchables again?”

“You know what I mean. Walking around with real attitude. Wearing too much gold jewellery. Doused in enough aftershave to make you gag.”

“You smelled aftershave? Did you go inside?”

“Didn’t have to. I could smell it coming through under the door.”

“Good. Don’t know how long we’ll be working on these guys. I don’t want them seeing our faces until absolutely necessary.”

Laura nodded in agreement and continued, “I guess all I’m saying is I wonder why the Russians would hang out with these guys?”

“Maybe it’s strictly business? Nothing to do with friendship.”

“Maybe.”

“High-class hookers. I would say it was a corporate party. Likely celebrating something. Wish we knew what.”

“Two of the hookers were never used, although our Russian friends always had one latched to their arm all night.”

“Big egos require a big show. We’ll find out about the guests tomorrow when we run the plates,” said Jack.

It was four in the morning when Jack slipped into bed beside Natasha and gently kissed her on her bare shoulder before pulling the blanket higher. She rolled over to face him and lay with her head on his chest.

Jack felt her hand slowly drift up the inside of his thigh and tilted his pelvis slightly while unconsciously opening his mouth in the expectation of pleasure. She stopped and moments later her breathing indicated that she had gone back to sleep. Jack let out a sigh and tried to relax. It took him over an hour to get to sleep.

It was nine o’clock at night in Hanoi when Bien felt Linh’s skinny arms squeezing his lungs. She was clinging to his waist while he pedalled his bicycle. It made taking deep breaths difficult, but he didn’t mind. They were plenty early to meet the van.

Eventually, Bien pulled up to the appointed location and carried his bicycle up onto the sidewalk while Linh carried the plastic bag containing her clothes.

“Forty minutes early,” said Bien.

“I do not think the American lady will be happy to see me,” sniffled Linh.

“And why not?” asked Bien, although he knew what the response would be before he asked.

“I have no gift to give her.”

“We do not have the money for two gifts. The pearl necklace cost much money. It is worthy of being a gift from the both of you.”

“Maybe Hang forgot to say so.”

“Do you really think she would do such a thing? Leave her little sister out?”

Linh put her head down and said, “No. I do not think that.”

“There is something you have to give that is much more precious than a stone from some oyster,” said Bien.

“What is that?” asked Linh with surprise.

“Your smile, little one,” answered Bien sincerely. “I would not trade your smile for all the pearls in Ha Long Bay.”

Linh tried to frown as she looked up at her father, but there was a twinkle in her eye and she soon smiled and giggled.

At nine years old, some might have found her mixture of baby teeth and adult teeth somewhat less than attractive, but to Bien it was a beautiful smile.

chapter six

The next day Jack identified the three Asians from the party and did background research on them while Laura looked into the backgrounds of the two men they referred to as Mister Porsche and Mister Jaguar.

Jack discovered that the three Asians were Vietnamese brothers who were the owners of two massage parlours. One massage parlour was called The Asian Touch and was one-third owned by each of the brothers. Their given names were Dúc, Húu, and Thao. Their family name was Tran. Dúc was also the sole owner of the Orient Pleasure, the establishment to which the Russians’ cellphone was registered.

Húu and Thao did not have criminal records, but Jack learned that the Combined Forces Special Enforcement Unit had encountered one of the brothers on an investigation two years previous.

Jack told Laura the information and she groaned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’ll never keep these guys straight,” she said.

“I think the important one to remember is Dúc,” said Jack. “He owns part of what his brothers have, plus the Orient Pleasure, where the Russians’ phone is registered. He’s also the one with a criminal record.”

“So it’s Dúc and his brothers.”

“For now. Incidentally, if you ever read or hear their names someplace, the Vietnamese put their family name first, followed by their middle name, and then their given name. Formally, they address each other by their given name. I would be known as Taggart, Bruce Jack, and if formally addressed, would be called Mister Jack.”

“Okay, Mister Jack, so neither of the two brothers have any criminal history?”

“No convictions, but Thao was the owner of a couple of rental properties where the Vietnamese tenants had grow-ops. They were taken down two years ago by CFSEU.”

“Doesn’t take these guys long to learn about B.C. bud,” said Laura.

“How are you making out with Mister Porsche and Mister Jaguar?” asked Jack.

“They are both well known,” replied Laura. “No convictions, but I just got off the phone with Drugs. Mister Porsche beat an importation charge a few years ago when he tried to smuggle a boatload of hash into B.C. He beat the rap in court by claiming that the dope was on its way to Alaska and that a storm blew them into Canadian waters. The judge said there was no intent to commit a crime in Canada. Mister Jaguar is a major cocaine dealer but has never been caught.”

“Jag and Porsche work together?”

Laura shook her head. “Not as far as any records show. They appear to be independent of each other.”

“Our Russians are the common denominator,” declared Jack.

“I’ve also checked for criminal records on the rest of the partygoers,” said Laura. “Lots with criminal records, but all minor stuff. Low-level drug dealers, that type of thing.”

“I think our Russians were just throwing their version of an office party,” said Jack. “I doubt that any of these people are really their friends.”

“So where do you want to go from here?”

“For now, concentrate our time on the Russians. If we lose them, then we’ll work on Dúc as a backup.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’m going to give VPD a call and see what they have on these guys. The Asian Touch is in their turf.”

Jack’s phone call to the Vancouver City Police soon found him transferred around where he ended up speaking to Detective Rocco Pasquali of the Anti-Gang Unit.

Jack had met Pasquali on past investigations and knew him as a good cop who was not afraid to work. More importantly, he didn’t let inter-agency rivalry affect his work. All he wanted was for bad guys to go to jail.

“The Tran brothers are well known to us,” said Pasquali. “Guess I don’t need to tell you that the massage parlours are just a front for prostitution, but there’s a lot more to him than that. Dúc expanded his operation out to Surrey last year.”

“The Orient Delight,” said Jack.

“You got it. Physically, he’s a small man. A good fart would probably knock him over, but he’s got the power. He heads a Vietnamese gang of at least fifty. They’re into just about everything. Extortion, robberies, drugs, juvenile prostitution ... you name it. They’re extremely violent. Not afraid to take a machete to someone just for making eye contact with them.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Lately, the asshole has insulated himself enough as to be basically untouchable. His top lieutenant is a guy by the name of Giang. A real psychopath. I mean that. He deals coke at the pound level. He came to Canada when he was seven. I really think the Vietnam War did something to him before he came over. He really is one disturbed individual.”