Gao had no warning that the raid was coming. Neither did he ever hear from the woman who called him asking for money.
“Do you know a nurse who worked there? Tala something?”
“You find that fat Filipina, you let me know,” he answered.
“Have you been looking for her?”
“Yeah, I am looking for her,” Gao grumbled. “The bitch set me up. Who do you think brought that problem into the house?”
I relayed the information Badger had discovered on Tala. She never showed up to work and her condo in the Valley was partly vacant, like someone who had left in a hurry. I had asked Badger how he came across this information, and he subtly told me she had left a window ajar and he had looked around a bit.
Gao couldn’t mask how impressed he was that I had this information. I seemed to earn some points with him on it.
“Do you think Tala could have been the woman who called me?” Gao asked.
“Maybe. But if all she wanted was money out of you, she didn’t need Jeanette to be at the house. She could have blackmailed you with the threat to expose the illegal activities going on inside the house.”
“Do you think she’s connected to Valenti?” I let my silence serve as a response. “Fuck, man,” he said like someone who has been played.
“One other link to Valenti,” I began matter-of-factly, “is a murder from 1963.”
Gao studied me.
“He killed my uncle,” he said flatly.
“Valenti was never charged with that murder.”
Gao understood the underlying meaning in my clarification.
“Allegedly, his thug killed him.”
“Why?”
“Because unlike my grandfather and unlike my dad, my uncle didn’t let himself be pushed around. He stood up to them. And they killed him.”
“What was it over?” I asked.
“It don’t matter. Another stupid deal that one guy got the better end of and the other guy didn’t like it.”
“This upsets you—”
“Fuck yeah, it pisses me off. My grandfather took orders. My big-shot father took orders. My uncle didn’t take orders and neither will I.” The statement was somehow equally defiant and yet full of resignation. Gao didn’t want to be pushed around by Valenti and all that he stood for but inside he knew that was exactly his fate. His anger wasn’t necessarily towards Valenti as it was towards the family that disappointed him. Also in his anger was a fear that his own limitations would lead to a similar outcome.
“Does it upset you enough to concoct a scheme to lure Valenti’s daughter in so you could finally get back at the man?” He studied me with abject hatred. “You never shut down that birthing clinic,” I reminded him. “And this mysterious caller doesn’t quite add up, especially since you never heard from her again. Now this Tala woman is missing and you apparently want her found but can’t seem to do it. Gao, it all sounds like a wild scheme to get back at Valenti that backfired and now you are covering your tracks.”
“You’re wrong,” he said.
“Why did you allow what was going on in the house? You clearly knew what they were up to.”
“Why would I do that?” he replied incredulously.
He humored me as I tallied through the litany of moral and ethical reasons. But I could tell right away that he didn’t believe in any of them. It was all just words.
“Let me ask you something,” he said. “What did you, or I, do to deserve the life we got today? I’m sure you have a nice house in a safe neighborhood.” Not nearly as nice a house or neighborhood as yours, I thought to myself. “You have a decent job that doesn’t require you to work very hard but still pays you good money and benefits. Good healthcare, retirement package?” he continued.
My attempt to guilt him was having the opposite effect.
“You probably have a couple of kids going to some private school and playing all the sports they want to.” It had been assumed that I had children so many times lately that I was starting to believe I actually did have my own brood. I was at the point of actually giving them names.
“Have you ever asked, ‘Why us?’” Gao paused but not so I could answer. “Why do we get all this and not someone on the other side of the world? Are we that much better than them? Think about it. The only difference between us and them is that we were born on this soil and they weren’t. Say what you want, but I’m at least giving them a chance. The same one we got.”
In his odd way, the clinic was his only chance to even the score.
EVERYTHING’S ROSES
It struck me later as I was driving back home.
I had stopped off at the office to catch up on work and on the drive home I took the surface route back to Eagle Rock. The normal path involved a series of short jaunts on multiple freeways and at this time of day, taking the full brunt of traffic jams from multiple interchanges was not wise.
I wound my way over to the river and took Riverside up the western shore that skirted Silver Lake and then Los Feliz. Before fully entering into Griffith Park I crossed over the interstate at Colorado and then traversed the river and came into the backside of Glendale.
This section of Colorado Boulevard was stuck in another era, when it was the main route for hundreds of thousands of tourists coming to Los Angeles. Old motels with colorful names and even more colorful signs crowded long stretches. Many were flower-themed and played off the Rose Bowl even though that structure was a good seven miles from here. I imagined the disappointment when a family of four from Akron drove all the way to Los Angeles to the Roses Motel and found one of these. The signs were now rusted in spots and the swimming pools were mostly filled in with concrete.
I had used this road many times and always wondered how they stayed in business. The freeways that skirted Colorado long drew away any sort of tourist traffic and yet a good portion of these motels remained. They had to have some sort of trade. Prostitution, I imagined, was a big source. But what about a young couple on the lam?
I quickly ruled it out. A newborn had to attract a lot of attention. And the couple couldn’t have much in the way of resources. Jeanette didn’t have a credit card. According to Meredith it was Valenti’s attempt to raise a blue-blooded cheapskate. Perhaps Nelson had some money but it was probably not enough to pay for an extended stay at even the cheapest of these motels.
It all led to the suspicion they were staying at a friendly residence where they could remain undisturbed for free. As I progressed along Colorado from Glendale into Eagle Rock proper, I went through the list of possibilities. Neither Jeanette nor Nelson had many friends, if any at all, and even if they did those friends would have parents who most likely would not be willing participants in these sorts of shenanigans. Relatives were another idea that I quickly ruled out as far as Jeanette’s side — no one would cross Valenti, not even Jeff’s family. Nelson’s family was a distinct possibility.
And that’s when it struck me. They were meaningless words when I first heard them, just an annoyed neighbor with an eye-sore of crab-grass suffocating the yard next door and threatening to invade his perfectly-groomed turf. The home was not being cared for and was bringing down the property values of those around it. He hoped I was there to do something about it. I remembered the house looking overly-unkempt, bordering on abandoned. But then the neighbor’s words said otherwise.
“They’re not home,” he told me.
Sheila Lansing had mentioned that she was a reluctant resident of the convalescent home. Such people often hold onto their past lives on the slim hope that they will someday be able to return to them. The empty house served as the perfect hideout.