Connections in Death (In Death, #48)- J. D. Robb Page 0,81
bring cops to the door?”
“No.”
His eyes sharpened at that, looking for a lie, a ploy.
“I think you know about the body left in the neutral zone, and if you were going to retaliate for that offense, you’d have left a message on Banger turf. Somebody wants you to do just that, and light the fuse that starts a war.”
“Bangers want war, they’ll get one.”
This one and Jones, she thought, same mold.
“I didn’t say Bangers want war. I said somebody. And if you’re stupid enough to take the bait, you’re giving him want he wants. And your family will grieve.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I bet you’ve got cousins, friends with mothers. And there’s a restaurant downstairs that could be a target if you let it go that far. You? I don’t give a rat’s ass about you, but I do about the people who’d get caught up in the violence, and you ought to care what it’ll do to your rep, to your profit margin, to your family’s safety if you light the fuse somebody else primed.”
“Dragons breathe fire.” He tapped a finger on his gang tat. “They disrespected my family.”
“Deliberately. Let it get under your skin, the blood’s going to wash over you, and your family. Let me do my job, and whoever wants that blood will be in a cage.”
“Your job?” He tried for mocking, but the rage won. “You mean nothing here. Whoever wants blood will see their own spill.”
She walked to the door, paused. “I’m not interested in you, today. But sooner or later you’ll come across my screen. If it’s not because you’re already in the morgue, I’ll end up putting you in a cage.”
She walked out, once again knocked on the door across the hall. And wondered how long it would be before she knocked on it to give Fan Ho’s family notification.
* * *
“They’re a nice family, Dallas.” As they drove back to Central, Peabody stared out the passenger window. “Kind, loving, hardworking. It shines through. And I know in my gut, the mother’s first fear when she saw the body was her son had done it. She’s afraid for him, that shines through, too. You have to wonder why he chose the life he has when he comes from such solid people.”
“That’s a Mira question. What I can tell you, while he didn’t kill Aimes, if he had, it wouldn’t be his first.”
“His given name’s George,” Strong supplied. “He uses Fan, which means lethal in Chinese. Trouble started with him, on record, pretty early. Truancy, destruction of property, fighting. He went after a teacher, laid her out right in class. He was eleven.”
Unsurprised, Eve nodded. “You don’t have to be Mira to see that while he probably loves his mother, his grandmother, outside of family he doesn’t think much of women, and sure as hell doesn’t respect any in authority.”
“No illegals charges,” Strong continued, “nothing on possession, use, distribution, which might be why he hasn’t come across my screen. His sheet lists him as the captain of the Dragons. He did his time as a minor, and since then he’s been pulled in on charges—and slipped the knots of them.”
“He hates cops,” Eve added. “Big surprise. Doesn’t think much of women as actual human beings, and considers Bangers trash. He has a whole pot full of rage, but he does have some control. We’ll hope he uses it while we shut this down.”
“He was born in New York—his parents and grandparents were born here, too. But I’ve got a report here. He has a sister. It’s believed she was seeing some guy she met in school, Hugh Lanigan, non-Chinese. The guy gets jumped one night after taking the sister home. Broken jaw, broken arm—football quarterback who’ll never spiral a ball again. Can’t or won’t identify his attacker. But he broke things off with the sister, finished out his senior year—online.”
“How long ago?” Eve asked as she pulled into the garage.
“Three years. The kid lost a football scholarship. He’s in college in Miami. The sister’s in college in Seattle.”
“Three years and a few thousand miles might be enough,” Eve considered. “Why don’t you talk to him, see if his memory’s cleared? Fan Ho needs to be locked away.”
“Wouldn’t that be sweet?”
“Peabody and I will go at Cohen again. Let’s see if he managed to find a lawyer, and if another dead body shakes him any.”
“Can I use a bullpen desk?” Strong asked Peabody as they walked to the elevator. “I’ll see if I can persuade