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I told him about the message on my door and the note card.
“Have you talked to any of your neighbors? Are there security cameras in place?”
“No and maybe.”
“I’ll have someone ask around.”
I said adios to Ranger and went into the office. Lula was asleep on the couch, and Connie was on the phone. She waved a file at me.
I took the file and flipped through it. Benjamin Kwan. Arrested for human trafficking. High bond. No-show for court date.
Connie had a second FTA file. Dottie Loosey, fifty-eight years old. Arrested for armed robbery and assault with a deadly weapon. The only photo in the file was her mug shot. Gray hair cut short. Uncombed. Fierce black eyebrows. Mean, squinty eyes. Lips pressed tight together. The woman looked like she ate nails for breakfast.
“She looks scary,” I said to Connie.
“I hate giving these to you, but I haven’t got anyone else,” Connie said. “I’ve never been able to find a replacement for Ranger. When he stopped doing fugitive apprehension no one else with his skill level came forward for the job.”
“Have you done any phone work on either of these FTAs?”
“The usual. It looks like they’re both in the area, living at the addresses I gave you. Loosey has a history of alcoholism and of being a nasty drunk. You want to be careful with her. She’s also got a PCP history. If she’s popped a couple of those she’ll be fearless.”
“I’ll see if I can get Ranger to help me with Loosey.”
Lula opened her eyes. “Ranger? Where?”
“Nowhere,” I said. “You know Benjamin Kwan, right?”
Lula sat up and adjusted the girls. She stood and tugged her skirt into place. “Benjamin Kwan? Yeah, I know him. He’s a real scumbag, but he got a excellent wardrobe. He traffics in street kids. Helps them get dope and then rents them out. And he brings some in from Honduras. And that’s just the beginning. He’s got his fingers in a lot of pies.”
“He didn’t show up for court yesterday,” Connie said. “I just got the papers.”
“This here’s going to be fun,” Lula said. “I don’t like this man. Let’s go get him.”
I knew Kwan too, and I didn’t expect a lot of trouble from him if we could catch him alone. He was a businessman, not a street thug. Problem was, he frequently surrounded himself with an entourage of spiffy street thugs. He lived in a fancy high-rise condo overlooking the river, and he used the second and third floor of a three-story row house on the third block of Stark for offices. The Kwan Travel Agency occupied the ground floor. I knew all this because I’d apprehended Kwan twice before. He’d had several arrests but no convictions. Witnesses disappeared or recanted. Evidence got tainted. Charges were dropped.
“He probably skipped his court date because he didn’t have the fix in place for his trial,” Lula said. “He probably still has to kill a couple witnesses.”
I drove to Stark Street and found a parking place in front of Kwan’s building.
“How are we going to do this?” Lula asked. “Are we going in like gangbusters?”
“No. We’re going in like sane, polite fugitive-apprehension agents. I’m not looking for a firefight. If Kwan is ready to go to court with us we’ll be happy to escort him. If he isn’t ready and he’s surrounded by his entourage of gun-crazy idiots, I’ll give him my card and he can call me when he wants a ride.”
“You could have just got him a cab with that attitude. And what am I supposed to do? I got a reputation to uphold. People think I’m a hard-ass.”
“I was hoping you would stay with my new car so no one steals it.”
“Good thinking. If you need help just yell.”
A woman in a tiny, skin-tight silver dress with a plunging neckline was at the desk in the travel office. She was wearing red patent leather five-inch spike heels, a massive faux diamond ring, and a small diamond-like stud in her right nostril.
“I’m a travel specialist,” she said. “Would you like to go somewhere?”
“I’m an apprehension specialist,” I said. “I’d like to go upstairs to talk to Mr. Kwan.”
“Of course.” She put her headset to her ear and tapped a speed-dial button. “I have an apprehension specialist here to see Mr. Kwan.” She nodded, replaced the headset, and smiled at me. “He’s expecting you. The stairs are to the right.”
I took the stairs to the second floor and thought this had to be how Briggs felt when he was going up in the crane cage. Not completely sure what sort of shape you were going to be in on the trip down.
