Rob gave a gaping yawn in the passenger seat. Yuto gripped the steering wheel as he glanced over at the sleepy-looking man.
“You didn’t have to come along,” he said coldly. Rob grimaced.
“Are you still angry about yesterday?”
“Oh, so you do know that you did something wrong.”
“It was just a harmless joke,” Rob insisted.
“You’re the worst,” Yuto said, still looking ahead. “Trying to get a guy to sleep with you by bragging about your size.”
“But you enjoyed the kiss, right?” Rob smiled.
“Sure,” Yuto said curtly. “But that was the last time. I like you, but not romantically.”
“I think it’s too early to decide. I’d like to have sex with you, if I could. Then, once Dick and I are on equal footing, I’d like to ask who you prefer.”
“I don’t know where you get that overblown confidence. ―Hey, what the hell, asshole!”
The last interjection was not directed at Rob, but at the red pickup truck in front of them that had braked suddenly. The road was wide open in front of them, but the pickup continued to roll along slowly.
“What the hell is wrong with him?”
“He’s distracted. Look, a police car’s pulled over someone in that lane.”
“Pull over on the shoulder if you want to spectate,” Yuto grumbled. He honked his horn and floored the gas as he passed the pickup. Their Camry continued to accelerate as it glided onto the ramp that connected the Pasadena Freeway to the Interstate 5. Taking the I-5 southbound would take them to the west end of East LA.
“Yuto, you better watch your speed. There’re cops swarming around this area.”
“They’ll let me go if I say I’m chasing a perp.”
“Jeez, no wonder everyone hates the FBI.”
“How convenient. I hate them, too.”
The two had been like this since morning. Although they appeared as if they were in a bad mood, neither of them were serious. Rob had sensed Yuto’s awkwardness and was playing along to hide his own embarrassment as well. Yuto was inwardly grateful for Rob for going along with him.
“So what kind of guy is Libera? If he’s the boss of a prison gang, he must look pretty scary, huh?”
“He’s got a presence, but he doesn’t go around intimidating people or acting arrogant. He’s a really good guy.”
Yuto had gotten Neto’s address from Gasly when they met at Schelger Prison. He had figured that Neto, having been the leader of a large street gang in the past, might know something about the Chicano gang Ara Roja that Nathan dealt with.
Yuto had also gone to the LAPD for information. Apparently, the Ara Roja were all but decimated in a gang dispute last year, and the police were no longer on the lookout for them. That meant they no longer had tabs on the senior gang members’ whereabouts.
“Even a good guy like him is bound to treat you differently once he finds out you’re FBI, though, don’t you think?”
“I have no idea.”
It was a nagging concern for Yuto. Although Neto no doubt valued his friendships, there was still the possibility that he would turn a cold shoulder once he found out that Yuto was connected to the police. Yuto made sure he was mentally prepared to be turned away.
They exited the I-5 and drove through Boyle Heights, a Chicano neighbourhood. As they drove east on Cesar Chavez Avenue, they could see many colourful murals. The vivid graffiti on the walls were not simple acts of vandalism; they were a proud part of Chicano culture and some carried strong messages.
“I feel like I’m in Mexico,” Rob commented. “All the signs are in Spanish.”
About half of LA’s current population was Hispanic, so it was not out of place to see Spanish in one’s surroundings: you could take your driving test in Spanish; if you called a customer service centre, you would be prompted first if you wanted service in English or Spanish. However, most white people never bothered going to the less safe areas of East LA and South Central. For someone like Rob, it was probably an intriguing sight.
Since they were close, they parked the car on the street and walked the rest of the way.
“This apartment?” asked Rob, looking up at a rundown building. Yuto noticed a bakery next door and walked inside. A middle-aged Chicano woman looked at the piece of paper that Yuto showed her, and confirmed that it was the address next door.
As he thanked the woman and pushed open the glass door of the bakery, Yuto’s eyes caught sight of a tall man passing behind Rob. He wore a black baseball cap, jeans, and an olive-green army jacket. His back was turned to Yuto as he walked toward the main street.
Yuto’s eyes were glued to the man’s broad back.
He looked like Dick.
“Yuto, did she say this was the right address?”
Rob’s voice made Yuto snap out of his trance.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “No mistake. It’s here.”
As he climbed the porch steps of the apartment, Yuto told himself that he was imagining things. Although the man had a similar demeanour, he had dark brown hair. Besides, there was no reason for Dick to be here.
Neto’s apartment was just up the steps. When he knocked, the door opened a crack and a young Chicano with facial hair peeked out.
The man asked him what he wanted in Spanish, so Yuto also responded in Spanish and said that he wanted to see Libera.
“Do you have an appointment?”
The young man’s gaze was sharp. Yuto felt a foreboding feeling at his apprehensive attitude.
“No, I don’t. But we’re friends. Can you tell him that Yuto’s here?”
“No. Libera doesn’t see anyone without an appointment. Go home.”
As the man tried to close the door, another man’s voice piped up from inside the room.
“Pepe, who is it?”
It was Neto’s voice.
“Neto, it’s me! Yuto!” Yuto blurted out.
“…Yuto?”
Neto’s surprised face appeared in the narrow opening. He muttered something into the young man’s ear, and the man unhooked the door chain. The door swung open all the way, and Yuto was finally able to see Neto face-to-face.
But the next words out of Neto’s mouth caught Yuto off guard.
“Dick’s gone already.”
“What…?”
As Yuto stared wide-eyed, Neto seemed to realize his misunderstanding.
“I thought you came chasing after him,” he said, looking confused.
Yuto bolted without thinking.
“Yuto?!” Rob exclaimed behind him. Yuto sped down the stairs and burst outside.
So that man he saw had been Dick after all. He hadn’t been imagining things. Those shoulders. That back. It was Dick himself.
Yuto sprinted toward the main street and looked left and right several times. He couldn’t spot anyone on the sidewalk who looked like Dick.
Yuto decided to take a gamble and turned right as he broke into a run down the street. He prayed to himself as he scanned the people in his path. Although he ran a considerable length of the road, he couldn’t spot Dick.
Finally, just as he had turned to go back where he came, he saw a black baseball cap over the crowd in the distance.
Yuto waded through the passersby as he desperately tried to catch up. He heard someone swear at him from behind, but he didn’t have time to care.
He was getting closer to the man, who was wearing an army jacket. It was the same one as he saw earlier.
“Dick…!”
Wait, please. Stay still, he prayed as he yelled the man’s name.
The man turned around. He was wearing the cap low over his eyes, and wearing dark sunglasses that obscured his face.
But Yuto had no doubt about it. It was Dick. It was Dick Burnford.
“Dick, wait—”
Just as he was about to shout again, the man broke into a rapid walk, as if to run away from Yuto. The distance between them grew wider. Yuto hastily broke into a run again, but he had lost him. He checked the back alleys, thinking Dick might have turned off a side street, but he was gone. No matter how much he ran around looking, the man was nowhere to be seen.
Yuto stopped in his tracks, feeling at a loss. As he stood there, out of breath and dazed, other pedestrians looked at him apprehensively as they slipped past.
Dick had been within his reach. He had seen the man with his own eyes, but hadn’t been able to catch him. But what hurt him most was that Dick had fled. He had run away, even after recognizing Yuto.
It took all of Yuto’s willpower not to crumple to his knees on the spot. He slowly began dragging himself back the way he’d come. Each step felt heavy, like his feet were sinking into the ground.
When he returned to the apartment and knocked on the door, the young man from earlier peeked out and let Yuto in.
Once inside, he saw Rob sitting in a chair wearing an unusually stiff expression. Upon closer examination, he realized that a man was standing beside him, holding Rob at gunpoint.
“Put that thing down,” Yuto said sharply in Spanish. The man ignored him. Neto said nothing as he sat at the other end of the table.
“Neto, can you please tell him to put it down? This is my friend. He’s nothing to worry about.”
“Can you prove it?”
“I told you he’s my friend. Is that not enough for you to trust me?”
“I trust you, but I don’t know anything about this guy.”
Yuto sighed at Neto’s excessive cautiousness and turned to Rob.
“Rob, do you have any ID on you?”
“Yeah. My driver’s license and my ID card for university. They’re in my pocket,” Rob said, reaching for his shirt pocket.
“Don’t move,” Neto snapped. “Pepe, you do it.”
Pepe reached into Rob’s breast pocket and pulled out a folded card wallet, which he passed to Neto. Upon inspection of the wallet, Neto seemed to be satisfied with Rob’s identity. He told his two men to wait in the next rom.
Neto stood up to give the card wallet back to Rob, and approached Yuto.
“Sorry about that, Yuto. I didn’t mean to be rude to your friend.”
“It’s fine. I should be sorry for dropping in so suddenly.”
Yuto smiled weakly as he looked up at Neto. His gaze was met with a look of pity.
“Looks like you didn’t catch him.”
“Do you know how to get in touch with Dick?”
“No, he didn’t tell me anything. —Don’t frown like that,” Neto said gently, “We’ve finally been able to meet again.”
Neto’s words were like a warm embrace, and it took all of Yuto’s effort not to lose his composure. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.
Neto put an arm around Yuto and pressed his head against his chest as if to tell him not to hold it in.
“You’ll see Dick again someday.”
“Neto…”
Yuto took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
“Congratulations on your release,” he said. “I’m glad to see you looking well.” Yuto raised his face and gave Neto a light tap on the chest to let him know that he was alright now.
“Thanks. It’s great to see you again, too.”
“Let me introduce you to Rob Connors. He’s a university professor.”
“A profesor, huh. I’m Ernesto Libera. You can call me Neto.” Although Neto still seemed to hold some distrust toward Rob, he nonetheless offered his hand to Rob for Yuto’s sake.
“Nice to meet you,” Rob said with a smile as he shook Neto’s hand. “Whew, what a relief. I honestly thought this would be my last living day on Earth. I wouldn’t mind some coffee to make up for the scary experience. Sound good?”
Neto furrowed his brow at Rob’s impudence, but said nothing as he made them both cups of café de olla – coffee brewed with brown sugar and cinnamon, often drunk in Mexico. The sweet aroma lifted Yuto’s spirits.
“How’s Tonya?” Yuto asked.
Tonya was Neto’s younger brother and had also been in Schelger Prison. Following the riots, she had been separated from Neto and transferred to federal prison. Tonya was gay and a crossdresser, but her beauty and sensuousness could put any woman to shame. That, along with her caring nature, meant she was well-loved by those around her and was endearingly called Sister Tonya.
“I went to see her the other day,” Neto said. “She was telling me how the federal prison canteen has a selection as good as Kmart. She’ll be getting released soon, and we plan to live together.”
“That’s great news. I’m sure Tonya’s looking forward to it.”
“I’m surprised you were able to find me,” Neto said as an afterthought.
“Actually…” Yuto said hesitantly. He knew he would have to tell Neto sooner or later. He steeled himself and showed the man his FBI ID card. “I’m actually an FBI agent.”
Neto knitted his eyebrows as he stared at Yuto’s photo ID. Yuto could feel his heart sink at Neto’s severe expression.
“I just got out of prison, and I’m gonna get arrested again?”
“No, I didn’t mean—” Yuto interjected hastily, but realized that Neto’s eyes were twinkling in laughter. The man was teasing him. “Will you still think of me as a friend?” Yuto asked.
“Of course. Your job is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Yuto was relieved at Neto’s unchanged attitude.
“Doesn’t it bother you, though?” Rob chimed in. “You were a gang boss in prison, right? I’ve also heard that you used to lead a pretty large street gang outside.”
Neto glanced at Rob coolly. “You need to organize if you want to protect yourself in prison. And someone needs to lead the organization. At Schelger, I just happened to fit that role. Everything else is a thing of the past.”
“But you’re still… you know… doing the same job, right?”
Neto seemed unruffled by Rob’s direct question.
“Yeah, you could say that,” he said. “I’m still part of the group. But I resigned from my position as leader before I went to prison. Now I’m more like an advisor to the younger ones.”
“You might consider yourself retired, but don’t the rest of your colleagues still see you as the boss? I don’t think it’s normal for an advisor to have two bodyguards.”
As Rob stared at him accusingly, Neto turned to Yuto helplessly.
“Does this profesor have something against me?”
“Rob doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just a bundle of curiosity. —Hey, Neto, can I ask you something? Why did Dick come to see you?”
It was a burning question for Yuto, but Neto’s face was set.
“Did he tell you not to talk?”
“Yeah. He asked me to keep it confidential. I owe Dick a lot, so I can’t afford to talk. Not even to you. I’m sorry.”
Yuto knew well that Neto was a man of his word. Yuto could beg all he wanted, but Neto would probably never relent.
“Fine. I won’t push you. But just tell me this: was he well?”
“…Yeah. He seemed well.”
There was an odd pause. Yuto looked searchingly into Neto’s eyes.
“Really? Did he seem any different?”
Neto’s silence made him even more concerned.
“Don’t tell me he was hurt?” Yuto pressed.
“No. Nothing like that. It’s just… I don’t know,” Neto murmured, unable to find the right words. It was rare of him, as he always spoke decisively. “He still spoke and acted the same way, but to me he seemed like a completely different person.”
“Different? Not just his dyed hair or outfit, you mean?”
“He looked somewhat different on the outside, too, but that’s not what I meant. He had a different aura. In prison, he had this air about him that shut everyone out. When I saw him today, it’d gotten worse. Maybe because he’s been on the run. It’s enough to put anyone on edge.”
Yuto didn’t think so. It wasn’t because Dick was being hunted down; it was because Dick himself was on the hunt for someone. If someone spent day in and day out thinking only about the person he wanted to kill, he would naturally begin to exude a murderous air.
For Dick, going after Corvus was not just a job or an obligation. He lived every day for the sole purpose of erasing the man who had murdered his friends and lover. Yuto’s heart ached as he imagined what Dick must be going through.
Was his hatred and murderous intent the only thing keeping him alive? Would his heart never be at peace until he accomplished his goal?
“Was Dick staying in LA ever since he got out, I wonder?” Yuto said aloud.
Neto at least seemed to have an idea about that.
“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “Seems like he stayed away from LA. He said he was only back temporarily, and that he would leave as soon as he was done.”
It was no doubt dangerous to be on the move in LA with the police on the lookout for him. He could only assume that Dick had returned because there was something important in LA that had to do with Corvus.
“This coffee is delicious. Mind if I have another?” Rob said, lifting his cup leisurely.
“This profesor’s made himself at home, hasn’t he,” Neto said exasperatedly as he stood up. Yuto remembered why he had come here in the first place, and called over to Neto as the man stood in the kitchen.
“Neto, do you know a gang called Ara Roja?”
“Ara Roja? Those guys in South Central? I heard they were rolling in drug money at one point, but they disappeared after losing a war.”
“That’s what it seems like. What I want to know is what they were like in their heyday of drug-dealing. We’re looking for a guy who used to supply large amounts of wholesale cocaine to Ara Roja. Do you have any info?”
Neto handed Rob a fresh cup of coffee as he sat down and stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“I don’t know them directly, so I’m afraid I won’t be any help. But if you ask Chente, he might know something.”
“Chente? Who’s that?”
“You know him. Alonso. Vicente Alonso.”
“Oh, from Locos Hermanos. Speaking of which, I ran into Matthew at Schelger Prison. He said Alonso was looking out for him. You told him to, right? Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“So how is Alonso related to Ara Roja?”
“He’s not directly connected, but his cousin used to be a member of Ara Roja. I think he’s left the gang life now and is living in San Diego. If you like, I can ask him through Chente.”
“That would be great. We’ll appreciate any information, no matter how small. Anything about who and what organization they were dealing with when selling cocaine.”
“I’ll get on it. Where can I reach you?”
Yuto gave Neto his cell phone number as well as Rob’s phone and house address.
“Rob’s letting me crash at his place right now,” Yuto explained as Rob smiled at Neto.
“How about dinner at my place sometime? I’d love to hear about your experiences; they’re bound to be fascinating. I’ll write out a map for you. Promise me you’ll come, alright?”
Without even waiting for Neto’s reply, Rob began humming to himself as his pen raced across paper.
“Your friend is a strange guy,” Neto commented.
“I agree,” Yuto said.
Yuto and Rob left Neto’s apartment to return to their car. Just as Yuto closed the passenger door, his cell phone rang in his inner pocket. He checked the caller to see a strange number starting with 000.
“…Hello?” Yuto answered apprehensively, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Yuto?”
He felt his whole body freeze up. His heart began to race. Was it who he thought it was?
“This is Yuto, isn’t it? Say something,” the man said as if speaking to an old friend. The image of his all-too-familiar face rose in Yuto’s mind.
“Nathan. Or should I say Corvus? It’s been a while.”
Rob gave him an alarmed look from the driver’s seat.
“I don’t like that name. Call me Nathan, like you used to.”
“I can’t. You’re not the real Nathan. How did you get this number?”
“Who cares about that? Oh, by the way, congratulations on your release. I’m glad you were proven innocent. I almost feel like I’ve been freed myself.”
He had the exact same soft-spoken tone and gentle voice as before, but now that he knew Corvus’ true personality, everything about him came off as unsettling.
“I was innocent, but you’re not. You said you were falsely accused, but you actually did kill Nathan’s mother, didn’t you?”
“I’ve forgotten. I don’t remember people who don’t matter.”
You’ve killed another human and you’re saying you forgot? He didn’t care if Corvus was joking. Yuto felt a burning anger welling up inside him.
“How about the real Nathan? What was he to you?”
He could sense Corvus laughing on the other end.
“He’s the same. I didn’t feel anything toward him. I only used him because he was convenient. But he didn’t die in vain, at least. He was useful.”
So Nathan was dead. Although he had seen it coming, he still felt an indescribable rage hearing the fact from Corvus’ own mouth.
“Yuto, don’t you want to know where Nathan is right now?”
“I sure do,” Yuto said through gritted teeth, gripping his phone tightly as he tried to keep his voice level. “Where did you hide his body?”
“Go to Gabriela Cemetery in Monterey Park. That’s where his grave is – I gave him a proper burial. I also left a gift to celebrate your release. I hope you’ll like it.”
The line went dead. Yuto clicked his tongue as he put his phone down. Rob pounced on him.
“So what did Corvus say? What did he call you for?”
“…Rob, is this call from Skype, do you think?” Yuto said, showing Rob the number from his call history.
“Yeah,” Rob said. “That’s a dummy number for Skype. Looks like he called with SkypeOut.”
Skype was a type of IP telephone software that enabled Skype users with a computer and internet connection to call each other for free from anywhere in the world. The SkypeOut function allowed Skype users to call landlines and cell phones as well.
“He certainly thought it through. It’s hard to trace Skype calls, and it’s hard to track down a user from this number.”
“You can probably track the caller down by contacting Skype headquarters, though, right?”
“Not if he was using a fake credit card to pay for it.”
So tracking Corvus by tracing his call was out of the picture. Yuto felt like gnashing his teeth in frustration as he fastened his seatbelt.
“Corvus said that the real Nathan’s grave was in Gabriela Cemetery in Monterey Park. He also mentioned that he left something there for me.”
“Alright. Let’s head straight over,” Rob said as he released the parking brake and floored the gas pedal.
Rob gave a gaping yawn in the passenger seat. Yuto gripped the steering wheel as he glanced over at the sleepy-looking man.
“You didn’t have to come along,” he said coldly. Rob grimaced.
“Are you still angry about yesterday?”
“Oh, so you do know that you did something wrong.”
“It was just a harmless joke,” Rob insisted.
“You’re the worst,” Yuto said, still looking ahead. “Trying to get a guy to sleep with you by bragging about your size.”
“But you enjoyed the kiss, right?” Rob smiled.
“Sure,” Yuto said curtly. “But that was the last time. I like you, but not romantically.”
“I think it’s too early to decide. I’d like to have sex with you, if I could. Then, once Dick and I are on equal footing, I’d like to ask who you prefer.”
“I don’t know where you get that overblown confidence. ―Hey, what the hell, asshole!”
The last interjection was not directed at Rob, but at the red pickup truck in front of them that had braked suddenly. The road was wide open in front of them, but the pickup continued to roll along slowly.
“What the hell is wrong with him?”
“He’s distracted. Look, a police car’s pulled over someone in that lane.”
“Pull over on the shoulder if you want to spectate,” Yuto grumbled. He honked his horn and floored the gas as he passed the pickup. Their Camry continued to accelerate as it glided onto the ramp that connected the Pasadena Freeway to the Interstate 5. Taking the I-5 southbound would take them to the west end of East LA.
“Yuto, you better watch your speed. There’re cops swarming around this area.”
“They’ll let me go if I say I’m chasing a perp.”
“Jeez, no wonder everyone hates the FBI.”
“How convenient. I hate them, too.”
The two had been like this since morning. Although they appeared as if they were in a bad mood, neither of them were serious. Rob had sensed Yuto’s awkwardness and was playing along to hide his own embarrassment as well. Yuto was inwardly grateful for Rob for going along with him.
“So what kind of guy is Libera? If he’s the boss of a prison gang, he must look pretty scary, huh?”
“He’s got a presence, but he doesn’t go around intimidating people or acting arrogant. He’s a really good guy.”
Yuto had gotten Neto’s address from Gasly when they met at Schelger Prison. He had figured that Neto, having been the leader of a large street gang in the past, might know something about the Chicano gang Ara Roja that Nathan dealt with.
Yuto had also gone to the LAPD for information. Apparently, the Ara Roja were all but decimated in a gang dispute last year, and the police were no longer on the lookout for them. That meant they no longer had tabs on the senior gang members’ whereabouts.
“Even a good guy like him is bound to treat you differently once he finds out you’re FBI, though, don’t you think?”
“I have no idea.”
It was a nagging concern for Yuto. Although Neto no doubt valued his friendships, there was still the possibility that he would turn a cold shoulder once he found out that Yuto was connected to the police. Yuto made sure he was mentally prepared to be turned away.
They exited the I-5 and drove through Boyle Heights, a Chicano neighbourhood. As they drove east on Cesar Chavez Avenue, they could see many colourful murals. The vivid graffiti on the walls were not simple acts of vandalism; they were a proud part of Chicano culture and some carried strong messages.
“I feel like I’m in Mexico,” Rob commented. “All the signs are in Spanish.”
About half of LA’s current population was Hispanic, so it was not out of place to see Spanish in one’s surroundings: you could take your driving test in Spanish; if you called a customer service centre, you would be prompted first if you wanted service in English or Spanish. However, most white people never bothered going to the less safe areas of East LA and South Central. For someone like Rob, it was probably an intriguing sight.
Since they were close, they parked the car on the street and walked the rest of the way.
“This apartment?” asked Rob, looking up at a rundown building. Yuto noticed a bakery next door and walked inside. A middle-aged Chicano woman looked at the piece of paper that Yuto showed her, and confirmed that it was the address next door.
As he thanked the woman and pushed open the glass door of the bakery, Yuto’s eyes caught sight of a tall man passing behind Rob. He wore a black baseball cap, jeans, and an olive-green army jacket. His back was turned to Yuto as he walked toward the main street.
Yuto’s eyes were glued to the man’s broad back.
He looked like Dick.
“Yuto, did she say this was the right address?”
Rob’s voice made Yuto snap out of his trance.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “No mistake. It’s here.”
As he climbed the porch steps of the apartment, Yuto told himself that he was imagining things. Although the man had a similar demeanour, he had dark brown hair. Besides, there was no reason for Dick to be here.
Neto’s apartment was just up the steps. When he knocked, the door opened a crack and a young Chicano with facial hair peeked out.
The man asked him what he wanted in Spanish, so Yuto also responded in Spanish and said that he wanted to see Libera.
“Do you have an appointment?”
The young man’s gaze was sharp. Yuto felt a foreboding feeling at his apprehensive attitude.
“No, I don’t. But we’re friends. Can you tell him that Yuto’s here?”
“No. Libera doesn’t see anyone without an appointment. Go home.”
As the man tried to close the door, another man’s voice piped up from inside the room.
“Pepe, who is it?”
It was Neto’s voice.
“Neto, it’s me! Yuto!” Yuto blurted out.
“…Yuto?”
Neto’s surprised face appeared in the narrow opening. He muttered something into the young man’s ear, and the man unhooked the door chain. The door swung open all the way, and Yuto was finally able to see Neto face-to-face.
But the next words out of Neto’s mouth caught Yuto off guard.
“Dick’s gone already.”
“What…?”
As Yuto stared wide-eyed, Neto seemed to realize his misunderstanding.
“I thought you came chasing after him,” he said, looking confused.
Yuto bolted without thinking.
“Yuto?!” Rob exclaimed behind him. Yuto sped down the stairs and burst outside.
So that man he saw had been Dick after all. He hadn’t been imagining things. Those shoulders. That back. It was Dick himself.
Yuto sprinted toward the main street and looked left and right several times. He couldn’t spot anyone on the sidewalk who looked like Dick.
Yuto decided to take a gamble and turned right as he broke into a run down the street. He prayed to himself as he scanned the people in his path. Although he ran a considerable length of the road, he couldn’t spot Dick.
Finally, just as he had turned to go back where he came, he saw a black baseball cap over the crowd in the distance.
Yuto waded through the passersby as he desperately tried to catch up. He heard someone swear at him from behind, but he didn’t have time to care.
He was getting closer to the man, who was wearing an army jacket. It was the same one as he saw earlier.
“Dick…!”
Wait, please. Stay still, he prayed as he yelled the man’s name.
The man turned around. He was wearing the cap low over his eyes, and wearing dark sunglasses that obscured his face.
But Yuto had no doubt about it. It was Dick. It was Dick Burnford.
“Dick, wait—”
Just as he was about to shout again, the man broke into a rapid walk, as if to run away from Yuto. The distance between them grew wider. Yuto hastily broke into a run again, but he had lost him. He checked the back alleys, thinking Dick might have turned off a side street, but he was gone. No matter how much he ran around looking, the man was nowhere to be seen.
Yuto stopped in his tracks, feeling at a loss. As he stood there, out of breath and dazed, other pedestrians looked at him apprehensively as they slipped past.
Dick had been within his reach. He had seen the man with his own eyes, but hadn’t been able to catch him. But what hurt him most was that Dick had fled. He had run away, even after recognizing Yuto.
It took all of Yuto’s willpower not to crumple to his knees on the spot. He slowly began dragging himself back the way he’d come. Each step felt heavy, like his feet were sinking into the ground.
When he returned to the apartment and knocked on the door, the young man from earlier peeked out and let Yuto in.
Once inside, he saw Rob sitting in a chair wearing an unusually stiff expression. Upon closer examination, he realized that a man was standing beside him, holding Rob at gunpoint.
“Put that thing down,” Yuto said sharply in Spanish. The man ignored him. Neto said nothing as he sat at the other end of the table.
“Neto, can you please tell him to put it down? This is my friend. He’s nothing to worry about.”
“Can you prove it?”
“I told you he’s my friend. Is that not enough for you to trust me?”
“I trust you, but I don’t know anything about this guy.”
Yuto sighed at Neto’s excessive cautiousness and turned to Rob.
“Rob, do you have any ID on you?”
“Yeah. My driver’s license and my ID card for university. They’re in my pocket,” Rob said, reaching for his shirt pocket.
“Don’t move,” Neto snapped. “Pepe, you do it.”
Pepe reached into Rob’s breast pocket and pulled out a folded card wallet, which he passed to Neto. Upon inspection of the wallet, Neto seemed to be satisfied with Rob’s identity. He told his two men to wait in the next rom.
Neto stood up to give the card wallet back to Rob, and approached Yuto.
“Sorry about that, Yuto. I didn’t mean to be rude to your friend.”
“It’s fine. I should be sorry for dropping in so suddenly.”
Yuto smiled weakly as he looked up at Neto. His gaze was met with a look of pity.
“Looks like you didn’t catch him.”
“Do you know how to get in touch with Dick?”
“No, he didn’t tell me anything. —Don’t frown like that,” Neto said gently, “We’ve finally been able to meet again.”
Neto’s words were like a warm embrace, and it took all of Yuto’s effort not to lose his composure. He gritted his teeth, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.
Neto put an arm around Yuto and pressed his head against his chest as if to tell him not to hold it in.
“You’ll see Dick again someday.”
“Neto…”
Yuto took a few deep breaths to calm himself.
“Congratulations on your release,” he said. “I’m glad to see you looking well.” Yuto raised his face and gave Neto a light tap on the chest to let him know that he was alright now.
“Thanks. It’s great to see you again, too.”
“Let me introduce you to Rob Connors. He’s a university professor.”
“A profesor, huh. I’m Ernesto Libera. You can call me Neto.” Although Neto still seemed to hold some distrust toward Rob, he nonetheless offered his hand to Rob for Yuto’s sake.
“Nice to meet you,” Rob said with a smile as he shook Neto’s hand. “Whew, what a relief. I honestly thought this would be my last living day on Earth. I wouldn’t mind some coffee to make up for the scary experience. Sound good?”
Neto furrowed his brow at Rob’s impudence, but said nothing as he made them both cups of café de olla – coffee brewed with brown sugar and cinnamon, often drunk in Mexico. The sweet aroma lifted Yuto’s spirits.
“How’s Tonya?” Yuto asked.
Tonya was Neto’s younger brother and had also been in Schelger Prison. Following the riots, she had been separated from Neto and transferred to federal prison. Tonya was gay and a crossdresser, but her beauty and sensuousness could put any woman to shame. That, along with her caring nature, meant she was well-loved by those around her and was endearingly called Sister Tonya.
“I went to see her the other day,” Neto said. “She was telling me how the federal prison canteen has a selection as good as Kmart. She’ll be getting released soon, and we plan to live together.”
“That’s great news. I’m sure Tonya’s looking forward to it.”
“I’m surprised you were able to find me,” Neto said as an afterthought.
“Actually…” Yuto said hesitantly. He knew he would have to tell Neto sooner or later. He steeled himself and showed the man his FBI ID card. “I’m actually an FBI agent.”
Neto knitted his eyebrows as he stared at Yuto’s photo ID. Yuto could feel his heart sink at Neto’s severe expression.
“I just got out of prison, and I’m gonna get arrested again?”
“No, I didn’t mean—” Yuto interjected hastily, but realized that Neto’s eyes were twinkling in laughter. The man was teasing him. “Will you still think of me as a friend?” Yuto asked.
“Of course. Your job is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Yuto was relieved at Neto’s unchanged attitude.
“Doesn’t it bother you, though?” Rob chimed in. “You were a gang boss in prison, right? I’ve also heard that you used to lead a pretty large street gang outside.”
Neto glanced at Rob coolly. “You need to organize if you want to protect yourself in prison. And someone needs to lead the organization. At Schelger, I just happened to fit that role. Everything else is a thing of the past.”
“But you’re still… you know… doing the same job, right?”
Neto seemed unruffled by Rob’s direct question.
“Yeah, you could say that,” he said. “I’m still part of the group. But I resigned from my position as leader before I went to prison. Now I’m more like an advisor to the younger ones.”
“You might consider yourself retired, but don’t the rest of your colleagues still see you as the boss? I don’t think it’s normal for an advisor to have two bodyguards.”
As Rob stared at him accusingly, Neto turned to Yuto helplessly.
“Does this profesor have something against me?”
“Rob doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just a bundle of curiosity. —Hey, Neto, can I ask you something? Why did Dick come to see you?”
It was a burning question for Yuto, but Neto’s face was set.
“Did he tell you not to talk?”
“Yeah. He asked me to keep it confidential. I owe Dick a lot, so I can’t afford to talk. Not even to you. I’m sorry.”
Yuto knew well that Neto was a man of his word. Yuto could beg all he wanted, but Neto would probably never relent.
“Fine. I won’t push you. But just tell me this: was he well?”
“…Yeah. He seemed well.”
There was an odd pause. Yuto looked searchingly into Neto’s eyes.
“Really? Did he seem any different?”
Neto’s silence made him even more concerned.
“Don’t tell me he was hurt?” Yuto pressed.
“No. Nothing like that. It’s just… I don’t know,” Neto murmured, unable to find the right words. It was rare of him, as he always spoke decisively. “He still spoke and acted the same way, but to me he seemed like a completely different person.”
“Different? Not just his dyed hair or outfit, you mean?”
“He looked somewhat different on the outside, too, but that’s not what I meant. He had a different aura. In prison, he had this air about him that shut everyone out. When I saw him today, it’d gotten worse. Maybe because he’s been on the run. It’s enough to put anyone on edge.”
Yuto didn’t think so. It wasn’t because Dick was being hunted down; it was because Dick himself was on the hunt for someone. If someone spent day in and day out thinking only about the person he wanted to kill, he would naturally begin to exude a murderous air.
For Dick, going after Corvus was not just a job or an obligation. He lived every day for the sole purpose of erasing the man who had murdered his friends and lover. Yuto’s heart ached as he imagined what Dick must be going through.
Was his hatred and murderous intent the only thing keeping him alive? Would his heart never be at peace until he accomplished his goal?
“Was Dick staying in LA ever since he got out, I wonder?” Yuto said aloud.
Neto at least seemed to have an idea about that.
“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “Seems like he stayed away from LA. He said he was only back temporarily, and that he would leave as soon as he was done.”
It was no doubt dangerous to be on the move in LA with the police on the lookout for him. He could only assume that Dick had returned because there was something important in LA that had to do with Corvus.
“This coffee is delicious. Mind if I have another?” Rob said, lifting his cup leisurely.
“This profesor’s made himself at home, hasn’t he,” Neto said exasperatedly as he stood up. Yuto remembered why he had come here in the first place, and called over to Neto as the man stood in the kitchen.
“Neto, do you know a gang called Ara Roja?”
“Ara Roja? Those guys in South Central? I heard they were rolling in drug money at one point, but they disappeared after losing a war.”
“That’s what it seems like. What I want to know is what they were like in their heyday of drug-dealing. We’re looking for a guy who used to supply large amounts of wholesale cocaine to Ara Roja. Do you have any info?”
Neto handed Rob a fresh cup of coffee as he sat down and stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“I don’t know them directly, so I’m afraid I won’t be any help. But if you ask Chente, he might know something.”
“Chente? Who’s that?”
“You know him. Alonso. Vicente Alonso.”
“Oh, from Locos Hermanos. Speaking of which, I ran into Matthew at Schelger Prison. He said Alonso was looking out for him. You told him to, right? Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
“So how is Alonso related to Ara Roja?”
“He’s not directly connected, but his cousin used to be a member of Ara Roja. I think he’s left the gang life now and is living in San Diego. If you like, I can ask him through Chente.”
“That would be great. We’ll appreciate any information, no matter how small. Anything about who and what organization they were dealing with when selling cocaine.”
“I’ll get on it. Where can I reach you?”
Yuto gave Neto his cell phone number as well as Rob’s phone and house address.
“Rob’s letting me crash at his place right now,” Yuto explained as Rob smiled at Neto.
“How about dinner at my place sometime? I’d love to hear about your experiences; they’re bound to be fascinating. I’ll write out a map for you. Promise me you’ll come, alright?”
Without even waiting for Neto’s reply, Rob began humming to himself as his pen raced across paper.
“Your friend is a strange guy,” Neto commented.
“I agree,” Yuto said.
Yuto and Rob left Neto’s apartment to return to their car. Just as Yuto closed the passenger door, his cell phone rang in his inner pocket. He checked the caller to see a strange number starting with 000.
“…Hello?” Yuto answered apprehensively, pressing the phone to his ear.
“Yuto?”
He felt his whole body freeze up. His heart began to race. Was it who he thought it was?
“This is Yuto, isn’t it? Say something,” the man said as if speaking to an old friend. The image of his all-too-familiar face rose in Yuto’s mind.
“Nathan. Or should I say Corvus? It’s been a while.”
Rob gave him an alarmed look from the driver’s seat.
“I don’t like that name. Call me Nathan, like you used to.”
“I can’t. You’re not the real Nathan. How did you get this number?”
“Who cares about that? Oh, by the way, congratulations on your release. I’m glad you were proven innocent. I almost feel like I’ve been freed myself.”
He had the exact same soft-spoken tone and gentle voice as before, but now that he knew Corvus’ true personality, everything about him came off as unsettling.
“I was innocent, but you’re not. You said you were falsely accused, but you actually did kill Nathan’s mother, didn’t you?”
“I’ve forgotten. I don’t remember people who don’t matter.”
You’ve killed another human and you’re saying you forgot? He didn’t care if Corvus was joking. Yuto felt a burning anger welling up inside him.
“How about the real Nathan? What was he to you?”
He could sense Corvus laughing on the other end.
“He’s the same. I didn’t feel anything toward him. I only used him because he was convenient. But he didn’t die in vain, at least. He was useful.”
So Nathan was dead. Although he had seen it coming, he still felt an indescribable rage hearing the fact from Corvus’ own mouth.
“Yuto, don’t you want to know where Nathan is right now?”
“I sure do,” Yuto said through gritted teeth, gripping his phone tightly as he tried to keep his voice level. “Where did you hide his body?”
“Go to Gabriela Cemetery in Monterey Park. That’s where his grave is – I gave him a proper burial. I also left a gift to celebrate your release. I hope you’ll like it.”
The line went dead. Yuto clicked his tongue as he put his phone down. Rob pounced on him.
“So what did Corvus say? What did he call you for?”
“…Rob, is this call from Skype, do you think?” Yuto said, showing Rob the number from his call history.
“Yeah,” Rob said. “That’s a dummy number for Skype. Looks like he called with SkypeOut.”
Skype was a type of IP telephone software that enabled Skype users with a computer and internet connection to call each other for free from anywhere in the world. The SkypeOut function allowed Skype users to call landlines and cell phones as well.
“He certainly thought it through. It’s hard to trace Skype calls, and it’s hard to track down a user from this number.”
“You can probably track the caller down by contacting Skype headquarters, though, right?”
“Not if he was using a fake credit card to pay for it.”
So tracking Corvus by tracing his call was out of the picture. Yuto felt like gnashing his teeth in frustration as he fastened his seatbelt.
“Corvus said that the real Nathan’s grave was in Gabriela Cemetery in Monterey Park. He also mentioned that he left something there for me.”
“Alright. Let’s head straight over,” Rob said as he released the parking brake and floored the gas pedal.
