“His name’s Cain Valenzio. Former boxer from New York. We think he was a runner for the Gambino family at one time. We could never get anything to stick. For his size, it’s surprising he’s able to slip in and out of the darkest recesses of a city without being seen. If he’s used aliases, we haven’t pegged any on him yet. But give us time.”
“He didn’t happen to hop a plane to Dallas recently, did he?”
“I’m embarrassed to say he gave my men the slip that night. His name wasn’t on the flight log but he could have used an alias. Our Dallas office showed Cain’s picture around the VA hospital. No one recognized him.”
Jake showed him a copy of a fax. “The family attorney found this lone item in Abbott’s safety deposit box. According to the bank, the box hadn’t been accessed since 1957.”
Carl studied the picture. “Damn. That’s the same pin.”
At exactly five-thirty, the phone rang. Jake pressed the speaker button on the phone. They exchanged introductions and pleasantries. The woman’s name was Phong Lee. Elvis translated for Phong Lee who said she hoped she could help.
“Phong Lee tells me she was twelve years old when Hap washed ashore in their village of Yongchou,” Elvis explained in his slight accent.
“Does she remember a date?”
Elvis relayed the question to Phong Lee.
“No. She says she only remembers it was hot, so it had to be August or September. And since she had turned twelve the month before, it had to be 1951.”
Jake read off a list of questions slowly so Elvis could write them down. Elvis relayed the questions one by one to Phong Lee.
“She says the black man was delirious. He had a bullet in his back and he also had malaria or something. He told her his name was Duke.”
“Does she have any idea where he went after he left Yongchou?” Carl asked.
“She says men stopped by the village for food and he left with them. The men had painted faces and spotted clothing. They frightened her. They were American. Duke was frightened of them at first but then after talking with them he shook their hands. Duke told her father that he lost his papers to get home and the men would help him get some made up. He mentioned something about Honolulu.”
“Mercenaries,” Jake said under his breath. “One last question, Elvis. How does Phong Lee know this Duke was the same man pictured in the paper?”
After a while Elvis replied, “She says it was his smile. She had never seen anyone smile the way he did.”
Jake ended the call and looked over at Carl. “He had a whole new set of I.D. s made up.”
“Which might prove the desertion theory. Why else would he need to change his identity?”
Jake got up to leave, then turned back to Carl, rested his gaze on him, his brows furrowed. “Are you sure there isn’t some information you want to share with me?”
Carl shoved his hands deep in his pants pocket, studied the patterned carpeting. For a moment, Jake thought Carl might finally tell him what was bothering him. Instead, Carl patted him on the back as he walked Jake to the door.
“Have patience.”
Chapter 41
Preston walked up behind Cain. “What are you looking at?”
Cain’s thick fingers were parting the white sheers hanging from the window in the ballroom. “There was a dark car following me from the hotel this morning.”
“Could have been a coincidence.”
Cain shook his head. “Maybe, maybe not. I made a detour through the shopping center and eventually lost him.”
“Did you get a look at the driver?”
“Dark windows. Could be cops.”
“You are jumpy.” Preston walked over to the silver tray on the bar and poured himself a glass of orange juice. His heels clicked against the polished marble floor. “You did an excellent job in Dallas. They have made it official. My dear friend, George Abbott, died of natural causes. No witnesses. Another clean job.”
“What about Parker Smith?”
Preston reached into the inside pocket of his linen jacket and pulled out an envelope. “Parker is a vegetable. He’s no threat. Ames is already dead. That takes care of everyone.” He handed Cain the envelope. “There’s a little bonus in there, too. The helicopter should be coming soon. I’ll be leaving shortly for a meeting in Springfield.”
“When will you be back?”
“Late this evening or early morning, depending on the weather.”
Cain watched a blue Jeep ramble up the drive. “Are you expecting company?”
Preston looked over Cain’s shoulder. “Come.” Preston led Cain down the hallway to the living room. He motioned for him to wait around the corner in the dining room. A few minutes later, Juanita knocked on the door and announced his visitor.
“Hope this isn’t a bad time, Mr. Hilliard,” Sam said with a somewhat monotone voice that said, I don’t really give a damn if it is. Preston extended his hand which she clasped firmly.
“I’m leaving in a few moments. What can I do for you, Sergeant Casey?”
Sam took a seat on the Queen Anne sofa. Preston chose a regal high-backed chair. “I’m sure you’ve read about the body discovered in the overpass.”
“Yes. A syndicate hit, wasn’t it?” Preston smiled slightly, then added, “or was it a drug buy gone bad?” Hearing a helicopter droning nearby, he checked his watch.
Sam watched him closely, her eyes dissecting his every move, her mind digesting and storing the information for future use. She pulled out a picture of Hap Wilson from her purse and said, “I understand that you served in the Korean War. Mushima Valley seemed to be where you made a name for yourself.”
Preston picked up the picture of Hap and studied it. “He wasn’t one of the wounded I carried out.”
“No?” Sam asked with an innocent, wide-eyed expression.
“There weren’t any blacks on that killing field. I would have remembered that.”
“You don’t recall during your tour of duty in Korea of ever seeing this man?”
Preston gave a half-hearted laugh and tossed the picture on the coffee table in front of her. “My dear girl, that war ended over forty years ago. Where has this man been all that time? He has been reported missing from duty while the rest of us risked life and limb. And you expect anyone to have any interest whatsoever in where he has hidden himself all these years?”
Preston pulled a piece of lint from his pants and held it up as if scrutinizing this foreign object that dared to soil his clothing. Standing up, he straightened his floral silk tie and buttoned his suit coat over his trim torso. “I saw a lot of men die in that war, Sergeant. I myself was wounded. I won’t spend one more second discussing a cowardly deserter.”
He was ending the meeting. Sam watched him walk to the door. She picked up the picture and followed him.
“Did you know George Abbott?”
Preston turned, his hand on the front door knob.
“Abbott?” He furrowed his brow in thought. “Yes, he was with me in Korea, for a brief time. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t keep in touch with anyone after Korea.” He held the front door open.
“The Dallas police are looking into Abbott’s death as a possible homicide.”
“Oh, really? The papers say the police closed that case.”
“That’s what the police want the press to print.” She handed him a picture of Cain. “What about this man? His name is Cain Valenzio and it’s possible he might be tied to Abbott’s death. Maybe he has some vendetta against Korean War vets.”
