I gave him the bogus bit about his car being one of dozens that we were checking and said he might not be involved in our investigation.”
“Third dope trafficking conviction with no penalty,” Jack muttered. “Why would the P.O. think he would change?”
“Says he is holding down a job as a take-out delivery driver at a restaurant and —”
“Let me guess. The Hanoi House?”
“My God, Sherlock? How did you figure that one out?” replied Laura, with mock surprise.
“And he is obviously making good money on tips to be able to afford a new car,” added Jack.
“Obviously. I don’t think the P.O. realizes that besides delivering egg rolls, they also deliver dope. The fact is, Ho must be making really good money. The P.O. said Ho has no parents and is living with his grandmother and helping her pay the mortgage. On top of that, he is supporting a younger sister living in the home who is still going to school.”
“Perfect,” said Jack. His face hardened and he looked at Laura and said, “We’ve got a rat in a trap. Time to go home and get some sleep. We’ll start our next shift at three in the morning.”
“What will we be doing at three a.m. on a Friday morning?” asked Laura.
“First I’ll get a cheap transistor radio.”
“Then what?”
“Smash it with a hammer.” Jack grinned at Laura’s puzzled expression. “You’ll see. It’ll be fun. Another one of those grey areas.”
Chapter Nine
It was eleven-thirty on Friday morning, when Harry Ho pushed a shopping cart across the parking lot of a bulk grocery store. He loaded the order of chicken and pork for the restaurant into the back of the van and was about to close the rear door when he heard a woman’s voice behind him.
“Excuse me, are you done with the cart?” she asked.
Ho turned around and saw a man and a woman. Before he could reply, the man grabbed him by the throat with one hand and shoved him backward onto the van floor. Ho opened his mouth and gasped in fear. Fear that gave rise to absolute terror when the man stuck the business end of a Smith & Wesson 9mm semi-automatic pistol into his mouth.
“You’re under arrest,” growled Jack, noting the relief flash across Ho’s face when he realized he wasn’t about to be murdered.
Ho remained silent as Jack searched him. The only item found of significance was his cellphone, which Jack handed to Laura.
Seconds later, Harry Ho was sitting with his hands handcuffed behind his back and propped up against the inside wall of the van. Jack parted the curtains leading to the front to allow light in as Laura left, closing the rear door behind her.
Jack then sat, resting his back against the van wall while staring quietly at Ho who was across from him.
“What’s this all about?” sneered Ho, putting on a false bravado. “You got nothing on me. What am I being charged with? Dope?”
“Dope? Why would you jump to that conclusion?” asked Jack.
Ho stared sullenly at Jack, then blurted, “Give me my phone back. I want to call my lawyer.”
“You may be interested in what we have on you,” replied Jack, “and the consequences of your actions.”
“What consequences?” snickered Ho.
“That will be for you to decide. I’ll explain all about it when my partner returns. In the meantime, relax.” Jack smiled. “Tell me, how is your grandmother doing?”
Ho frowned. “She’s fine. Why? What does this have to do with her?”
“And your little sister?”
“She’s fine too. Why are you asking? They don’t have anything to do with anything.”
“You’re not entirely a bad guy,” said Jack. “Helping out with the mortgage. Making sure your little sister goes to school. Although, someday, I suppose you think the house will be yours.”
“That is not why I am doing it,” said Ho, defensively. “My grandmother raised us since we were little. She will live a long time yet. I’ll have my own house by the time she dies.”
“Really?” Jack smiled as though he were hiding something.
Ho scowled at Jack and said, “I’m not talking to you anymore until I speak with my lawyer.”
Jack nodded. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind if you were quiet. I’ve become quite sick of listening to your voice this past while.”
Ho looked startled. “What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll see.”
Eventually Laura returned and opened the rear door and motioned for Jack to step out so she could talk to him in private.
Jack eased himself out of the van, but left the door open to keep an eye on Ho as he and Laura stepped back out of earshot.
“He made a call to another cellphone,” whispered Laura, “starting six minutes before Betty Donahue was run over and ending about the time of her death.”
“Do we know who owns the other cellphone?” asked Jack.
“Nope. Likely disposable. This idiot should have disposed of his.”
“Wouldn’t make much difference if he had, as long as this works,” replied Jack.
“You really don’t think he knows the difference between a bug and a radio circuit board?”
Jack half-smiled. “I doubt it.”
“If this goes sideways, at least we can’t be charged with an illegal wiretap,” noted Laura, optimistically.
“You worry too much about the grey areas.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been getting them in my hair from working with you.”
Jack eyed Ho in the van and whispered, “Let’s do it. I also don’t want to tip him off that they got the wrong person … if in fact they did.”
Ho stared nervously as Jack and Laura climbed back into the van and closed the door behind them.
“It’s time to let you in on something,” said Jack, glaring at Ho. “We’ve got you for murder.”
“Murder?” Ho did his best to look surprised. “You’ve got to be kidding? You’re joking … right?”
“It’s no joke to drive over and kill a woman out walking her dog,” snarled Jack.
“I never did that!” replied Ho, looking shocked. He quickly regained his composure and added, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Your part was to sit in this van and watch when she left her house, then call to have her run over,” said Jack.
“I said I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Ho, defiantly. “I want my lawyer right now!”
Jack shrugged. “No problem, but you may want to know what we have on you, so you can tell him. Are you interested to hear what that is?”
“Go ahead. Tell me what you think you have, but I’m not answering any questions,” replied Ho.
“It wouldn’t matter if you did,” said Jack. “We haven’t read you your rights yet, so anything you do say to us would be inadmissible.” He glanced at Laura and said, “Go ahead.”
Laura thumbed through her notebook and said, “Here it is … Wednesday … two days ago, we have photos of you in this van arriving to watch her house at seven-forty-five that morning. You saw her come out of her