Turbulence Page 8

  Home is an apartment on the East Side, not the Upper East Side, but not Midtown either. I have a two bedroom on the Forty-Ninth block of Second Avenue. It’s not upper crust and there’s no doorman, but not bad at all. In the world of compromise, I could have secured a decent place around Fifty-Third and Third, with a doorman, but only one bedroom. That second bedroom is an unused luxury most of the time, but because I have brothers and sisters and am of Irish descent and live in Manhattan, they visit from time to time and do not want to sleep on the couch or the floor. So the second bedroom it is, but it also serves as a mini-workout room, and once in awhile I want to see family.

  The taxi dropped me off and as I hustle to the elevator anxious to be home, I stopped in the middle of the lobby and went to my mailbox. Two weeks away is the maximum time I would allow before I stopped the mail. But on this trip, I was only supposed to be gone ten days. Therefore, the mailbox was jammed full. I put the pile of envelopes in my carry-on bag along with a couple of notices telling me I have certified or registered mail. There are also notices that packages that won’t fit in my mailbox are at the post office.

  I don’t know why I was apprehensive. Nevertheless, it was a relief to know that everything was in its place when I entered my apartment. I really shouldn’t have been surprised if my apprehension was caused by my concern about the cartel, even though I knew that they knew when I left Acapulco and that I went to South Korea from there, so they would not have assumed that there was anything of theirs in my apartment. But fear diminishes rational thought, and therefore, anticipating all sorts of scenarios, it’s nice to know that home was, and actually is, a safe haven. Being safe reminded me to leave Len a message that I’m home and will call him later today.

  Unpacking my bag and making myself a pot of coffee, I sit down to sort my mail from my carry-on. I had one certified and one registered mail notice. The registered notice was from an attorney’s office in lower Manhattan and the certified one was from a John Smith. There was no reason for an attorney to be in touch with me and I got goose bumps from the mention of John Smith, especially directed to me at my safe haven of home. But I was not going to get myself all frazzled again, imagining things, as I did with Len on the phone from Honolulu. I finished my coffee, took a long hot shower washing away not only the accumulated travel dust, but also the travel fatigue, and headed downtown to the office.

  As I stepped off the elevator, first the receptionist and then Margie gave me a warm welcoming back, since it was probably the longest I’ve been away in several years, including my two week vacation.

  “Hey, thank you for the welcome. Never thought I’d be happy to be back here. Most of the time it’s the last place I want to be, but now it’s great to be back.”

  Giving Margie my notes, I let her know that this information was of the utmost importance and was also dangerous. I impress upon her that it would be transmitted to not only the recipient, Detective Len Graham, but in all likelihood passed on to the DEA and the FBI. We decided that she could type with her typewriter set on the roll-in table and close the office door while she was putting the report together. I was going to visit with Russ Martin, and having looked over my notes, Margie believed she’d have it done within the hour. I asked her for only one original for Len and one copy for me.

  I rang Russ. He was free so I went down to his corner office. As much as I wanted to, I suppressed my desire to tell him about the Dallas discovery. I just did not want to share the information with anybody until I had first talked to Len. I felt bad about it. I was sure there would come a time when he would be brought up to date, but now was not the time and especially if he was going to South Korea with the chairman of Rainbow. We reviewed the South Korean problem that caused my trip, and discussed the Acapulco and Honolulu properties.

  I asked him about the board meeting and he surprised me.

  “Listen, Kevin, the board meeting is going forward on Wednesday, but I won’t be attending. You can give me a written report if you have it, and deliver your report as usual to the board without my presence. I usually ask you questions and also answer any other corporate questions directly to the board members, but you can do that just as well.”

  “Okay, Russ, no problem. I have Margie working on something now, but I’ll have her give you a written board report on those three properties and touch on others as necessary before the end of the day.”

  “Good, because I won’t be here after today. Jim and I are leaving for South Korea tomorrow. You, of course, are more than aware that the ceremonies are this weekend.”

  “Yea, I knew it was this weekend, but I wasn’t expecting you to leave tomorrow. I guess I’ve got a bit of jet lag. Of course it’s going to take at least three, maybe four days to get there, and you don’t want any of that jet lag for the ceremony.”

  “Good, Kevin, and speaking of good, I want to repeat our compliments on your performance in South Korea.”

  “Thanks, Russ, and that reminds me to give you the full name and description of Mr. Choo, the COS to the South Korean President. You’ll want to say hello at the party.”

  “You’re right, I should have thought to ask you about that myself. Thanks again.”

  Wanting to leave on that high note, and avoiding any other discussion, I wished him a nice flight and left.

  Margie finished the Dallas report to Len and gave me a copy, each in a manila envelope, one with Len’s address on it and mine blank. I gave her the reports on the three hotels and asked if she had any notes for the other properties that had come in since I left. I asked her to do the report for Russ on the three hotel properties and have it to him before he left the office. I also gave her the Choo information to type for him, and dragging a bit, left for the post office and then home to call Allison.

  Eleven

  The post office in Midtown was busy as usual, and the line for pick-up notices was the longest. As I waited, remembered what a strange eclectic place New York was. I had only been away a little over two weeks and every location I visited could be described as what the average American considered exotic.

  Yet the city of New York can be the most exotic of all because of the amazing diversity of its population. Here in the various lines were well dressed businessmen, bikers holding their helmets, men and women barely dressed in T-shirts and shorts, and a couple of weirdos dressed as if they fell out of bed ten minutes ago. And all of them represented the world’s races, white, black, brown, Asian, and in-between, It really is a shocker considering the homogeneity of Mexico and South Korea, for instance. We are truly the melting pot of civilization, with New York being its epicenter.

  Nevertheless, I was truly happy to be back, because with all its faults, there is a mystique and a pulse about this city that is unlike any other on the planet. In almost any area of Manhattan, downtown, midtown, or uptown, there is a palpable feeling of vibrancy, of life forces if you will, that you can directly feel from the humanity that fills the sidewalks and moves one’s very being. Born and raised in Boston, and working for years in Washington, I took every opportunity to visit this city on a regular basis. I called it my New York fix.

  A weekend taking in the theater, restaurants with someone special, a complimentary room, and maybe a run in Central Park was a wonderful mini-dose of New York life. As a young man in college attending the annual hotel show, I promised myself that one day I would live here, and while it took years to do so, I am now here and each time I returned from a trip, I felt the same way.

  I picked up my mail and returned home. There were only two small packages that I recognized as something I ordered for the apartment, plus the registered and certified pieces. I decided that I could wait to open the mail until after my call to Allison.

  She was on the phone on the second ring.

  “You are right on time, Kevin, and I’m so glad to know you’re safely home, but I’m still pouting about you bypassing Dallas.”

  “Yea, I know, I feel the same way. I would have loved to stop
in Dallas and disappear from the world for days on end with you if I could. But I have something to tell you that is a bit disturbing and after I do so, you will understand why I needed to return here immediately.”

  “Wow, that sounds scary. Are you in some kind of trouble?”

  “Yes and no. The trouble was not caused by me, and if it was, it was not deliberate. Anyway, take a comfortable seat, and I will tell you exactly what it’s about.”

  I went directly to the subject, from my request to have the captain of the Acapulco flight intercept my bag, to its retrieval in Dallas and my discovery in the guestroom. I ended with what was in the bag that was now in the Greyhound terminal baggage locker in Fort Worth.

  “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed. “I guess you’re fortunate you didn’t retag it from SFO to South Korea. You would have had a terrible time at customs.”

  “More than that. I wouldn’t be talking to you now. I would probably be in a jail cell in South Korea.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Don’t worry, I contacted someone by telephone and fax from South Korea and Honolulu. He is a friend who’s a detective in the New York police department who is aware of the problem. I plan to see him this afternoon.”

  “So, that black box in my closet is connected to the drugs?”

  “Yes, I believe it is some sort of signaling device for the planted baggage handler to recognize. I think that they would transmit somehow, by voicemail or radio, the description of the bag and then use the transmitter to identify the bag in the pile.”

  “Gee, you know a little bit about the airline business, don’t you?”

  “A little. I’ve been flying enough to get some knowledge, but all of this is guessing at this point but hopefully an educated one. I have written out a report for my friend Len the detective, and that box will be in the report, but I’ve got to get it from you as soon as possible. Could you send it by the fastest mail service?”

  “You know, Kevin, I could probably send it by plane if I could get it into the right hands on a flight to New York.”

  “Yea, I suppose that’s possible, but that box is very important to the case. I wouldn’t want anyone else to get their hands on it.”

  “Wait a minute, I’ve got an idea.”

  “What?”

  “I’m off for two more days and I could personally carry it to New York. I have flying privileges, you know.”

  “I don’t know, Allison, you’re not connected to this in any way, and I don’t want you to be involved. These are very bad people. They know where I work and I wouldn’t be surprised, where I live.”

  “Look, Kevin, like it or not, I am involved. I would be called upon at some point to testify about my part in getting the bag off in Dallas. Besides, you don’t want the box to be in the wrong hands, and I have been wanting me to be in the right hands ever since you left.”

  “God, Allison, I’m talking serious, and you’re turning me on,” I admitted incredibly, feeling that familiar tug in my groin.

  “Good, that’s what I intended. I’ll get a flight out early this evening, it’s only a little over three hours. I’ll call you back. I think I’ll arrive in LaGuardia so you could pick me up there. Give me your home phone number and I’ll leave a message.”

  I called Len who was just back from lunch. He received my message and asked me what time we should meet.

  “I finished at the office this morning and I’m at your convenience. You tell me the time.”

  “Three at the precinct. You know where it is?” he asked. I didn’t and he gave me the address on First and Fifty-Fourth. I gathered my files and since it was only six blocks, and just past two, I relished the chance to walk.

  It was a nice spring day and I’m invigorated. That lucky-to-be-alive feeling that the city elicits put a bounce in my step, and several thoughts about living entered my mind as I strolled up Second to Fifty-Fourth. I recaptured my New York way of life within half a day of returning, at the same time losing my ever constant concern about the bad guy. Finally, I relished the thought that Allison would be in my New York and with me this evening.

  As I felt in Dallas, life can be good. I don’t know how well she knows the city, but unless Len advises me otherwise, I plan to take her out to dinner and maybe to a little lounge that I know that is romantic and has a trio for dancing. I think she would like that.

  I find my way down Fifty-Fourth to First Avenue. Entering the precinct, I was shown the robbery and assaults division and I asked for Len. I hadn’t seen him for several months, but he appeared around the corner and seemed to be in really great shape. I was instantly reminded that my last workout was two weeks ago in Acapulco.

  “Hi, Kevin, long time no see,” he boomed, squeezing my hand as he would a lemon.

  “You look great, Len. New workout?” I asked.

  “Yea, thanks for noticing, I’m trying something new, called Nautilus. So follow me back to my desk.”

  Without the usual small talk, I opened my briefcase and get right to it. While Len read my detailed report, I took the opportunity to open my registered letter from attorney Arthur Regis. It was very lawyerly, pointing out that his firm was representing an international trader that had found out that their “products” had been illegally “misappropriated.” Accordingly, they were to be returned forthwith in the original pristine condition they were before “misappropriation,” or paid for in full immediately. If not, the severest of penalties will ensue and prompt action will be forthcoming. The address of the firm was in Newark, New Jersey. I was to contact him within forty-eight hours of the written receipt obtained from the U.S. Postal Service.

  The letter from Mr. John Smith was not so obtuse. “You have stolen a very valuable commodity from my client. You will be required to pay the sum of $1.2 million immediately to me as their representative within forty eight hours of your written receipt, or return the valuable commodity in the same condition as when you stole it, or suffer the consequences, which will assuredly be exacted with no prior notice. This is a one time non-negotiable offer.” The address for John Smith was about as verifiable as his name, but he also left a mailbox delivery address.

  When Len was finished with my report, I gave him the originals and asked for copies. He called his assistant over to handle it, then turned to me and said, “You didn’t tell me about the black box. Why not and where is it?”

  “I made a decision not to keep it in my bag, or to take a chance on having mysterious signals from a bus station storage unit cause problems, or explain it to customs entering South Korea. And frankly, after that decision, it slipped my mind when I contacted you.”

  Completely ignoring my explanation, he paused, looked straight at me, and said, “Where’s the box now?”

  “Its in Dallas and I’m having somebody bring it to me tonight.”

  “Who’s the somebody, and do they know what we know about its significance?”

  “Jesus, Len, why are you interrogating me like this? I’m not the bad guy in this deal.”

  “Look, Kevin, I’m sticking my neck out here for a friend, but I’m not going to risk my reputation or my job. I need to know everything you know, and if you’re not being upfront with me, I can’t and won’t help you.”

  “All right, Len, there’s something else I didn’t tell you,” and then I proceeded to tell him about Allison, her connection to my employer’s partner Rainbow Airlines, and the, ahem, connection between us.

  “Should have figured. You’re a smart guy, but when you think with your little head instead of your big one, you get in trouble.”

  “You’re right about that most of the time, but in thinking about it, in this case, it really saved my ass. Interrupting my flight, or trying to explain to customs would have been a greater problem.”

  “Okay, Kevin, but we are going to have to have an understanding between us. One, that this is the only information you have left out, and two, you will tell me everything in every detail of anything that happe
ns from here on out in this case.”

  “I promise, Len, and I apologize. I’ve always said I never lie, except when it comes to sex, and I’m sorry, after all these years. It’s almost automatic.”

  Len received the copies of the letters and handed me mine, and proceeded to read his. He leaned back and said, “It’s what I told you. They want their stuff back or payment. I would guess that they would be interested in what you may have found out because it could seriously impact what they are doing or trying to do, and that’s the dangerous part.”

  “I’m planning on picking up Allison with the black box later on this evening and you’ll be gone for the day. What do you want me to do?”

  “Listen, Kevin, they know where you live, and they probably know now that you’re back in town. I would guess that they’ve been watching your apartment for several days. That black box could be very important to the case. If your idea about their strategy being the “lost bag” premise is correct, you blowing the whistle on them could amount to billions of dollars. That box could have a tremendous impact on their operation. I don’t believe that your apartment is the safest place in New York to keep it right now. Here is my home address. I live in Queens and you said you’re going to pick her up at LaGuardia. Drop the box off at my house before you do anything. I’m not saying that you’re in any danger at your place, but you may want to go out. Do you have a doorman?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Okay. Will her flight get in before nine?”

  “Yea, about eight I think.”

  “Good, I don’t want to disturb my wife or family. Just ring the bell and I’ll take it at the door.”