Captain O’ Brien’s hands trembled as he searched under the stack of files inside the top left drawer. After a prolonged effort, which seemed eternal, the panel to the hidden compartment opened. ‘Thank God! It’s still here.’ He twisted the cap off, thrust the fifth of bourbon into the wanton mouth, and swallowed.
The sharp burn was choking and the cough so hard he almost dropped the bottle, but catching it just in time. He regained his breath, took another gulp, this time swallowing slowly. Leaning back, he felt the warmth permeate. He had not done this for fifteen years. The last time was when President Kennedy was shot. That drink was for grief. The time before was in 1958 when he became captain. That was for celebration. This time though, it was plain fear.
In law enforcement for more than forty years and a police Captain for the last twenty, the sixty-two-year old had never seen anything like this. Colorful tales of “tong wars” between high-binders and hatchetmen over gambling, prostitution, opium dens, and yellow slavery hovered in the back of his mind always.
His grandfather, the first police inspector to work in Chinatown during the 1800’s had told them many times. The stories fascinated Captain O’Brien as a child and, as he got older, drew him to join the police force. Eventually, he became inspector and later captain of the Chinatown precinct. He soon learned the stories his grandfather told were nothing like the place he knew. Chinatown was peaceful, orderly, mainly a curiosity for tourists. Its residents were law-abiding citizens, who solved their own problems. Usually, they accomplished this through their family associations. These associations or clubs were legal organizations whose members had the same surnames such as the Wong, Lee, and Mar. Sometimes referred to as tongs. But nothing like the immoral tongs his grandfather had talked about. He became convinced the stories were events of the past or mere fabrications.
In fact, for the first twenty years, the job was easy and routine. Gamblers were the most flagrant lawbreakers. How the Chinese loved to gamble! The raids on illegal mahjongg and pai gow parlors were the only excitement around his precinct. Lately, the new influx of immigrants crowding into Chinatown in the late Sixties and early Seventies, had created nagging problems. Juveniles roamed the streets with nothing to do. Eventually they organized into different gangs, and resorted to petty theft, sold illegal firecrackers, and practiced neighborhood extortion, and small –time drug trafficking. Rival gangs began to fight for power over their territories and exacerbated the problems. In an attempt to curb the violence, he had formed a special task force last year. This task force worked closely with the business community and family associations. Everything had seemed to be under control- until tonight.
“A massacre in Chinatown?” He swallowed hard, still having difficulty to believe. As captain, he held the responsibility for solving and resolving it. Hands finally steady, he commanded impatiently through the intercom, “Where is Lim? Isn’t he here yet?”
Inspector Lim’s vibrant enthusiasm made him a welcome member, from his first day eight years ago. Because of his muscular build, mental toughness, and eight-degree black belt, he was dubbed Mr. Invincible by his fellow officers. A promotion to Inspector in three years, surprised no one. American-born Chinese and bilingual, he was the natural choice to head Captain O’Brien’s special Chinatown gang task force.
Proud of his heritage, Inspector Lim allowed no one to ruin his turf. Despite being hard-nosed about his duty, he always treated people with respect, even gang members. It was no surprise his nickname was “Mr. Invincible” on the streets. Tonight, though, Mr. Invincible felt very vulnerable, also very angry, frustrated, and sick at what he saw.
“My God, what happened?” Captain O’Brien asked as soon as he appeared.
“They hit like lightning, sir. Out of nowhere. We had no reason to expect anything like this. We haven’t had a whisper of a break between the gangs. My men are trying to get on top of it right now. I just came from the scene, myself.”
“Well, what do you have?”
“Four dead, seven wounded, three seriously. All are at the Saint Francis Emergency Center right now. Of the four victims, only one is a possible gang member. His name is Chin Fei. And that’s all I have on him. His wife is outside, still in shock. I’ll talk to her as soon she can talk. The other three victims were tourists, a married couple from Portland visiting their daughter, and sales rep from Chicago. All four died at the scene. I have men waiting at the hospital to interview the wounded. Eyewitnesses are being interviewed now. It looks like an all-night job, sir. I should d have a clearer picture by morning.”
“Good, I’m counting on you. I’ll be straight with you, Lim. I’ve never dealt with anything this bad in all my years on the force. This has always been a peaceful community. Something like this could tarnish our image badly. Not to mention my career. My tenure has been unblemished, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m retiring at the end of this year. I need his resolved now.” His voice was half commanding and half pleading.
“Yes, sir! I want to keep my record unblemished too, sir.”
“Good, I know I can count on you. It is a case of gang warfare, isn’t it?”
“I am pretty sure it is gang-related sir. But all the victims seem to be bystanders.”
“It’s got to be!” Captain O’Brien’s face turning red, “They don’t shoot innocent people, do they?”
“No sir. But this shooting doesn’t make any sense. From what I know, Chinese gangs don’t shoot each other, either. It’s just not in their interest to do so in Chinatown. Heat is the last thing they want. I’ve a hunch something went wrong here.” He grimaced with a shake of the head.
“What about this fellow, Chin- Chin whatever his name is, isn’t he a gang member?”
“It’s possible. But I don’t have anything to substantiate it yet. He looks a bit old to be involved with gangs, but you never know.” He paced toward the door and back to the desk in frustration.
“Well, Lim, I have to go make a statement to the press right now. Something the public will understand. I guess I’ll have to say it looks like one gang shooting another, with innocent bystanders caught in between,”
“Sure,” Inspector Lim agreed reluctantly, “just to keep them happy for the time being’”
Yan Tu sat rigidly upright in the chair, unaware of the bloodstains on the sweater, suppressed all sights, sounds, or emotions of the past two hours including rapid gun fire, the bloodied body, the chaotic aftermath, the police sirens, and the ride to the police station. All the senses turned inward keeping a blank screen on the mind. She could not bear to see, hear, or feel it again. Not now. Not ever.
“Yan Tu, are you all right? It’s me . Look at me, Yan Tu. Look at me.”
Slowly, she tilted her head and saw the gentle face bending down, “Godfather Lew, oh Godfather Lew,” her mouth curved down; abruptly, cruel reality returned, and cried out, “Oh, help me, Godfather! Chin Fei, Chin Fei, he’s dead. Chin Fei is dead!” The tears turning into painful sobs.
He embraced her gently; throat burning and, with unshed tears, he managed to say, “Calm down, Yan-Tu. Have a seat, and let’s see what to do.” In his mind though, he knew there was nothing they could do except pray. “Time will heal. Time will heal. God will answer our prayers,” he found comforting words for her and for himself.
“Are you related to the deceased, Chin Fei?” A husky voice intruded.
Yan Tu’s body stiffened at the sound. She groped painfully for that nothingness state she’d given up for Godfather Lew.
Godfather Lew turned around and stared. Those words “Chin Fei, the deceased” hammered hard. ‘Untrue!’ He wanted to shout back, but kept the composure, “I am his godfather, Lew Ming.”
“Good, I’m inspector Lim, in charge of the investigation.” A quick glance at Yan-Tu and he continued briskly, “I need to talk to her. I believe she’s his wife. But apparently she’s in shock, and I’ve been waiting for her to come around. I need information. Now that you are here, perhaps, we can proceed.”
“Yes.”Godfather Lew barely nodded.
Inspector Lim and his assistant quickly brought two chairs over, and with a ballpoint pen and note pad the interview was ready.
“What is your name and relationship to the deceased?”
Yan Tu remained rigid and the blank stare gave no indication she understood. Godfather Lew answered instead, “She is Yan Tu Chin, his wife.”
“Age, occupation, and address.”
Godfather Lew answered every question mechanically while keeping a close watch on Yan Tu. She remained placid but her eyes seemed to be glaring at the inspector each time he spoke.
“Now, the next question is very important,” Inspector Lim edged the chair closer and stressed, “Think before you answer,” and waited for Godfather Lew’s eyes to meet his, “Is Chin Fei related to any gang? Let me put it straight. Is he a gang member?”
“Chin Fei a gang member?” Yan Tu outraged came alive indignantly challenging Inspector Lim, “Chin Fei is no gang member! He is an honorable man! Chin Fei is an honorable man! Chin Fei is an honorable man!”
She chanted it over and over. Everyone in the room turning to watch as the voice became louder and higher, until it burst into hysterical sobs.