Exit Hollywood
By Chris James
Redemption, Act Two:
Neil Keene usually awoke every morning and stared at the ceiling for an hour. The first thoughts through his mind were about Anita and the emptiness beside him in bed. They had married just after he graduated from the police academy, both of them twenty-three and incredibly innocent about what life was like.
He had grown up in the Midwest and couldn't wait to leave for the west coast and college. He'd moved to Los Angeles with two thousand dollars in his pocket and a guarantee from his old man to pay that college tuition. It was far too little to start out, and so he worked in a shoe store nights and weekends.
His initial thought was to become a teacher, or a lawyer. Perry Mason was in reruns on television by that time but Neil had seen every program. You had to admire a man who could twist and turn things around until finally a suspect would admit to the crime. Lawyers seemed like admirable people, but the education to become one was expensive.
Neil had spent his entire youth with books in hand. The vast knowledge of the world was in books, and what he read only served to make him understand how important an education was for every kid. The community college was inexpensive and offered the same classes as the state university. His academic advisor told him the great truth: When he finally got that degree no one would know that half of it had been earned in a community college.
He took all the required classes towards a junior degree that would springboard him into a bachelor's degree in education, but there were electives he needed to take as well. That interest in lawyers enticed him to take Criminal Justice 101. The rest, as they say, is history.
That first class was taught by a retired policeman named John Jacoby, who seemed amused to find himself in a classroom instead of on the street fighting crime. But he had been a detective in San Francisco, and was a minor celebrity around the school because he had advised the producers of that television cop show set in his city.
Jacoby taught the subject by the book and told his students that like a preacher with his Bible, a cop had to know all the rules in their book. Cops didn't make the laws but breaking them wasn't the answer to making changes in how they were applied. Neil liked the man, especially since he was willing to sit in the cafeteria with his students and talk about law enforcement.
Like all retired cops, Jacoby had twenty-five years worth of experiences to share, and his students spent their time trying to figure out if he was embellishing the truth just a little bit. But just like nursery rhymes, Jacoby's stories had a moral, and often contained warnings about the wider dangers a cop faced in a world of criminals.
Neil sold a lot of shoes in those days but the associate's degree allowed him to apply to the academy, and a recommendation from Jacoby certainly didn't hurt. Police cadets went through a boot camp which demanded a lot of physical activity. But Neil had run track back in high school and he accomplished the requirements quite easily.
There were classes in the law, criminal psychology, and the way a cop had to deal with the public. Weapons training and defensive driving were followed by more homework on how to fill out paperwork and write reports. Neil was beginning to dread all the things he had to learn, but he ranked high in his class and graduated in the top ten. He was so proud when they pinned that badge on his blue uniform.
Cops enforced the law and did paperwork, sometimes the latter taking up more of a working shift than the former. The police administration in Los Angeles was faced with challenges they were often ill equipped to handle. The boom in illegal immigrants fostered gang activity, the drug trade and multiple homicides. There was no doubt in Neil's mind about where things were going. The police force was overwhelmed by these criminals.
The drug gangs were organized almost like a militia, and the weapons they used were often military issue. Rookie cops right out of the academy were put on traffic duties or took burglary reports. No one intended for Neil to get into a firefight with a drug gang two months after he was assigned to the Western District.
He was put on patrol with Barry Wolkowski, a twelve year veteran who had run the gamut of criminal activity in the city. Much of the drug business was in South Central, miles from their area of patrol. The west side was filled with office buildings and the film industry. It was supposed to be one boring shift after another.
The call came in around eight one evening, just as the sun was dipping to the horizon, and purported to be a personal assault crime in progress. Neil was at the wheel since Barry enjoyed doing most of the looking. They switched on the light bar and headed silently towards the reported scene of the crime.
"Unit forty-two, be aware, we have another call on this location, man with a gun," The dispatcher informed them.
"Forty-two," Barry replied. "Requesting backup."
"Rolling. ETA five minutes."
They had just reached the scene and their backup was five minutes out, this was not good. Neil pulled to the curb when he saw the double parked cars ahead. Barry immediately unlocked the shotgun in its clamps and checked the load. They were both wearing the bullet proof vests. Those hot and uncomfortable Kevlar units made it difficult to bend over, but at the moment they seemed like a blessing.
"What do we do?" Neil asked. His heart was pounding and his hands felt sweaty.
"Nothing for it, we wait for backup, them's the rules," Barry said.
The streetlights were on. Those eerie sodium vapor jobs that made the world look like everything was viewed through strange designer sunglasses. Neil saw movement up by the cars fifty yards away, and knew they could see him. The light bar on the roof was still flashing out their location and reflecting off the walls of the nearby businesses. It made them the perfect target.
Neil could see the muzzle flashes a millisecond before the bullets hit the squad. Not just a few bullets, a swarm of them punched holes in the hood and stitched a line up towards the windshield right between Neil and his partner.
It all happened so fast, but they did the right things. Barry snapped off the light bar just as it exploded in another hail of bullets. The perps were firing fully automatic, an AK-47 by the sound of it. They had both pulled the door handles and were headed for the asphalt as the windshield exploded, but Neil grabbed the microphone on their radio before he rolled out.
"Dispatch, forty-two. Shots fired at squad, heavy assault weapons. Require immediate assistance."
The static came back just as another swarm of bullets nailed the front of the squad and splashed bits of asphalt in Neil's face. He heard Barry yell and decided it would be safer on the other side of the car so he started crawling. Now that he was outside he could hear other shots being fired, but not at them. Then the cavalry arrived.
The air unit helicopter lit up the street with its million watt floodlights, and it seemed as if daylight had returned to this corner of the city. Neil had reached the back of the squad car and found Barry crouched behind the trunk.
"There you are, I was beginning to wonder if you got hit," Barry said. "You have blood on your face."
"Asphalt hit me. Who are they shooting at now?"
"My guess is that this is a gang banger party and we crashed it. They're trying to finish each other off and pull out before our people arrive in force." Barry looked up at the air unit helicopter. "At least we'll know where they go when they leave."
Over the next several minutes it became apparent that the gangs weren't going to drive out of here as the surrounding streets filled with police units. SWAT was about the only unit that could handle heavy weapons, but by the time they got there the gang members had vanished on foot into the neighborhood.
"Too many doors, too many alleys...we'll never catch them now," Barry said. He looked down at the remains of the squad car. "Doesn't matter to us, we'll be filling out paperwork until dawn."
That had been Neil's initiation to the police force. He considered himself lucky and the only bump in the road was this wiseass Lieutenant on the inquiry panel who asked Neil why he had not fired back.
Neil remembered leaning into the microphone on the table and answering. "I was too busy eating asphalt, sir." The scratches on his face were still apparent, just as the photos of the squad unit with sixty-five bullet holes in it were on display during the hearing.
"You were very lucky, Officer Keene," A captain said. He was the ranking officer and so they moved on.
The boys in the squad room called him Lucky Keene after that, or variations on that theme and most of them obscene. Barry shrugged it off and said nothing about pissing his pants. Fortunately, he had landed in the gutter and his uniform got wet, no one knew a thing.
They were issued a new car and the routine of life went on, until Neil met Anita. She worked in the Clerk of the Court's office as a Secretary II. As the junior man on the detail, Neil became the gofer for his Sergeant when it came time to get a warrant signed and issued. After a while Neil noticed that she jumped up to handle the paperwork for him the minute he stepped through the door.
Her parents were back east, and much like Neil, she had moved west to embrace the golden opportunities found in California. She only had a high school diploma, but she had taken classes at a secretarial school and had stenographer's skills. But Anita was also lucky. She had been in the courtroom for only three months when this clerical position had become available.
She thought Neil looked dashing in his uniform, even though it was devoid of any decoration except the marksman pin. He drove in on his day off and they had lunch, their first date. Neil courted her for six months before he popped the question. Anita smiled shyly behind her hand and told him she knew the minute they first met that they would end up married.
She became Anita Louise Foster Keene in a brief ceremony at the courthouse, and most of the staff turned out to wish them well. Many of them thought her a fool to marry a cop, and Neil was determined to prove them wrong. But the next five years went their way, and Neil was beginning to believe he was more than lucky, he was blessed.
They both stayed busy at work and Neil made Corporal soon after the marriage was consummated. They had a small duplex in a neighborhood with other cops, and between them knew they could do better, and then she became pregnant. The baby lasted four months and she lost it...a girl.
But as if the God above had mercy on them, Neil's parents moved west and settled into nearby Monterey Park. The house was large and his mother invited them to move in. Neil could think of no reason to decline the offer, especially since he knew Anita needed a change of scenery.
She had been moody after the miscarriage, and Mrs. Keene was dying to become a grandmother, they made a good pair. Neil's dad tinkered in the garage and built furniture in the basement. It was a quiet home life and good enough for Anita to get pregnant again.
Neil's mother doted on the girl and prodded her through the pregnancy. Michael Anthony Keene was born on Christmas Eve, and for the first time since he was a child, Neil got down on his knees and thanked God for making him a father. Michael had been a blessing, a difficult boy, but still his father's pride and joy...and that was the problem.
Michael idolized his father, a man who was rarely home. If Anita was the saint then Neil was the sinner, and that made him less than a good role model for his son. He was busy climbing the administrative ladder within the department and looking for that gold shield of a detective. By the time he made the grade Michael was nearly an adolescent and Neil realized he didn't really know his son at all.
Neil didn't want to recall anything else this morning, so he got out of bed and washed up in the bathroom. Did he see a blond kid with Michael last night? Clarence had been over so he knew his memory would be a little fuzzy about that. Michael had been upset; he would have to face that this morning as well.
The smell of coffee greeted him at the top of the stairs, and Neil turned back to his room for a robe since they probably had company. Michael was at the stove when Neil entered the kitchen, and the blond boy was sitting at the table drinking coffee.
"Good Morning," Michael said, walking over to give his father a hug. Neil wasn't a touchy-feely kind of guy, but there was never any denying Michael's affection. The other boy stood and smiled.
"Good Morning," Neil said.
"Danny, sir...nice to meet you."
"Danny, good to meet you as well. Sit...finish your coffee," Neil said.
Michael placed a mug of coffee on the table before his father's chair and Neil sat down to sip the scalding brew. Like everything else his son did well, he made the best coffee.
"Two, two and two?" Michael asked.
"Please," Neil replied.
Michael quickly placed a plate with two eggs, two slices of bacon and two pieces of toast in front of his father.
"Where's yours?" Neil asked.
"We ate an hour ago," Michael said.
Neil tucked into his food, a bad habit left over from his patrol days. The minute a cop sat down to enjoy a meal the radio would go off. It often made him wonder if criminals ever ate.
"What's your story?" Neil asked, looking up at Danny.
"Oh, the black eye. My father gave me that," Danny said.
"Asshole," Neil said.
"My thoughts exactly."
Neil picked up his coffee cup and appraised Danny a little closer. "I know who you are, you're that singer. I saw your face on one of those entertainment shows."
"You'll probably see him on the news later today," Michael said. "Danny isn't going to let his father hit him anymore."
"Asshole," Neil said, and Danny smiled.
Neil had spanked Michael but never punched him. Assholes beat their kids and he'd seen enough of that to be the expert. No, Michael had been spanked with his bare hand, and that was the only acceptable form of punishment a father should give.
"You old enough to be on your own?" Neil asked.
"I'm seventeen, that might be an issue," Danny said.
"Might be," Neil agreed. He turned to Michael for the rest of the answer. "What happened?"
"The man was punching the boy, I stopped him," Michael said.
"Uh huh...and how did you do that?"
"He swung at me, self defense," Michael said.
"I didn't ask for your plea, what did you do to him?"
"I tapped his cranium, put him out, and then we left."
Neil nodded. "Asshole."
Danny hoped the father wasn't talking about his son. What Michael had done seemed heroic, but then he didn't know what the relationship was like between these two.
"I'm grateful for what Michael did," Danny said. "My image can't handle too many punches, and even now I wouldn't be able to appear on stage looking like this."
Neil nodded as if he understood. "Anything else?"
"I need a lawyer and Michael said you might know one," Danny said.
"I know lots of them, they come in different flavors. Are you going to press assault charges?"
"That's the least of my father's problems, he's been stealing my money and lying about it," Danny said.
Neil raised his eyebrows. "Oh...a real asshole." And they all laughed.
Michael poured more coffee which gave his father a few moments to think. His Pops would figure out the best angle of attack and tell Danny who would provide the best advice in this situation. It was too bad that his father hadn't sought some advice for his own situation.
"First off, let's go see how much hell you've managed to raise with all this," Neil said. He stood up and carried his coffee into the living room with Michael and Danny trailing behind. They turned on the television and didn't have long to wait.
"Police are searching for a suspect this morning in the robbery and kidnapping of Danny Rhodes..."
"Oh crap," Danny said.
"So that's how he's going to play it," Michael said.
Neil walked into the front hallway and dug a little book out of the drawer in the phone table. He thumbed through a few pages and nodded as he picked up the phone. But before dialing he looked over at Danny.
"Do you have any objections to a woman as your lawyer?"
"No, sir."
"She's also Chinese."
"That's fine," Danny said.
"Good, because in a courtroom she's dynamite." And Neil began to dial.
The news continued showing photos of The Palace Theater and few of Danny on stage performing. But finally they got to a video of Danny's father with his head wrapped in a bandage sitting up in a hospital room.
"What a faker," Michael said.
"Turn it up," Danny urged.
"...they hit me over the head with something, it could have killed me," Danny's father said.
"The doctor says there is no contusion, just a bruise," The reporter said.
"I don't care what he says, they tried to kill me."
"How many of these alleged kidnappers did you see, Mr. Rhodes?"
"I didn't see anyone...at least I don't remember any one person. Danny is a strong boy so there must have been more than one person to drag him away so fast. I just pray he didn't get hurt."
"They were waiting for you in the dressing room?"
"That's my best guess. The theater was supposed to guard those spaces but I didn't see any security. They stole the receipts from the show and my briefcase..."
"He looks more worried about that briefcase than me," Danny said.
"Can you blame him?" Michael asked.
The report dissolved into images of the police searching the theater and the parking lot surrounding it. Michael hit the mute button as his father returned to the room.
"Janet will be over in a little while and said her mother will send along some lunch," Neil said.
"Aw, that's sweet," Michael said.
"So I guess you weren't mentioned in the report. Doesn't mean they won't suspect you."
"I know, Pops."
"Does he really think he's going to get away with this?" Danny asked.
"He might," Neil replied. "So far it looks like he's playing the odds. Perhaps he really doesn't remember what happened. A blow to the head can often cause temporary memory loss. But saying you've been kidnapped would work for him if your body turned up, and stealing the money is a great motive for murder."
"It sounds like he's planning to sue the theater about this," Michael said. "Something like that would put them right out of business."
"I won't let him do that," Danny said.
Neil held up a hand. "Whoa, let's not jump the gun here. Let Janet handle all of this, that's what she gets paid for. Now I'm going to go up and shower and then get dressed before she arrives. I would suggest you both think about what you plan to tell her, and the truth seems to be the best course of action."
Neil stood up and then smiled. "Janet Chong, Tommy's aunt. Did Michael tell you about Tommy?"
Danny nodded. "A little, they grew up together."
Neil nodded and looked at his son. "Perhaps one day he will finish that story. But now you get to meet the Dragon Lady. Your father might be an asshole, but she's going to rip him a new one." And with that Neil climbed the stairs chuckling with every step.
"Dragon Lady?"
Michael sighed. "She was my lawyer on several occasions. I told you I had some pretty stupid times growing up and some of that was due to Tommy's influence."
"But you told me he's dead now. I don't know which to ask about first," Danny said.
"Oh definitely her. Tommy is part of my past, that story can wait. Janet is special because she's Chinese-American, and still one of the most powerful members of the Tong."
"Tong...the Chinese Mafia?" Danny asked.
"No, that's all hype, it's a business organization. The Chinese are so misunderstood," Michael said. "I grew up around them and I dated their daughters when they let me. Janet looked after me, at least after mom died. That wrecked my life and she held me together."
"I'm sorry," Danny said. "You never said what happened to your mother."
Michael was quiet for a moment. "The coroner said it was an accident, she drove through a red light and a truck hit us."
"Us...you were in the car?"
"Yes, I was thrown out. Other than a few scratches and a broken arm I survived, she didn't."
"That's terrible..."
"She was too busy yelling at me to pay attention to her driving. I was fourteen and we were on our way home from juvenile court." Michael sighed. "I blamed myself for a long time, at least until Janet set me straight. You can see what it did to my father. He was a man on the edge and I felt like I had pushed him off the cliff.
"He retreated into a bottle and I ran wild with Tommy, at least until I got locked up and he was shot. I was a badass, the only white boy the Chinese gang ever accepted as one of their own. Enter the Dragon Lady with all the powers of the Tong behind her. She wanted revenge for her nephew and the gangs were plowed under thanks to her.
"I was the most surprised kid in that jail when she walked in to see me. She waved a piece of paper under my nose and told me if I signed it she would own me, but I would get out of jail. I signed and she put me to work washing dishes. I was sixteen and had signed a contract to work for her family until I turned eighteen.
"It isn't what you think, I wasn't a slave. I washed dishes until they became comfortable with me and then they taught me to cook. I worked a four hour shift, and then they sat me down with three other employees who were learning English. Janet had a whole program of study that finally led me to my high school diploma, and I helped the others learn our language."
Michael smiled at some memory from the past. "I turned eighteen and Janet threw a big dinner to celebrate the end of our contract. I had a diploma, I could cook and I was determined never to go back to jail. But she said I needed to go out and get a job, something that would spread my wings and allow me to fly.
"I was confused for a while, but then I finally understood her logic. I had learned survival skills and they had to be tested. I needed to have faith in myself. Pops had been retired by then. So many cops drown in the bottle, and I think they told him to take a walk or get fired. He was down and I was up, that's just how life was. I took the custodial job and here we are."
"I'm sorry you lost that job." Danny said.
"I'm going to wait and see what Janet says. Maybe your father doesn't remember me and I can go back. It wasn't a very hard job. At least I don't have to sing."
Danny smiled. "You have something against singing?"
"The guys in the kitchen at the restaurant listen to jazz. I know it sounds crazy, but it was something they picked up in China before they came here. They had a record player over in one corner and used to play these old vinyl albums. Singers I'd never heard of like Pearl Bailey, Josephine Baker and Etta James. Damn but those black ladies could sing and these guys would howl along with them."
Danny was laughing by now, but he had to ask. "And that's how you learned to like jazz?"
"I did, it was so strange. But the music has a rhythm and it made the work time fly by. I guess it is crazy," Michael said.
"Music hath charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak," Danny said. "William Congreve, an English writer. I've been living in the music I sing for over ten years now, and I never feel like I know enough."
"Who writes your songs? The show you just did, was that all your music?"
"This time, yes. No one had heard those songs before, not even the recording company and I'm just as glad they weren't there last night."
"Who wasn't where last night?" Michael's father asked from the bottom of the steps.
"The people my father contracted to record my music," Danny replied. "They haven't heard my new stuff and I'm not sure I want them to."
"Aren't you under contractual obligations?"
"I am, and if they know about it they'll push to have me record."
Neil nodded. "I get it. And your father gets a cut of that pie as well. What happens if you don't record?"
"To me, nothing, but my father will be in deep trouble financially," Danny said. "Lawsuits will tie up all the music they have so far, I don't know about the new stuff."
"You'll have to ask..." Neil said, but the doorbell rang. "I guess that would be Janet."
The lady who stood on the doorstep could not have been more different from what Danny expected, he was just glad he had been wrong. Janet Chong was fortyish, but with a hip style of dress that Danny remembered from the younger crowd on the tour. Her face said Chinese, but the rest of her said she was a hot property.
"Neil, glad you called," Janet said. She handed him a large box and kissed his cheek. He immediately headed off towards the kitchen. That left Janet to turn her charm on Michael as the only other person in the room she knew.
"Hello, Michael...and you must be Danny. I suppose you're the reason I'm here. I saw your picture on the news."
Danny nodded. "The story they have is all wrong."
Janet smiled. "Then we'll just have to fix that...but first we eat while it's hot. I have to be in court for a motion this afternoon."
Neil was unpacking the food when they got to the kitchen so Michael went about setting the table. In front of each place he set a deep bowl, a small plate and chopsticks, and then he looked up at Danny.
"Do you use chopsticks?"
"Uh...not really," Danny replied, and Michael handed him a fork. "Would you get each of us a glass of water?" And Danny went about doing that.
Neil put the little white boxes out on the table and opened several containing white rice. Janet and Neil took the ends of the table and Michael sat across from Danny.
"Danny, have you eaten Chinese before?" Janet asked.
"Sure, we ate lots of fried rice and chop suey when we were on the road."
She smiled patiently. "Then this will be a new experience for you in traditional Chinese cuisine."
Everything smelled wonderful and they all dug in. After chewing on a piece of the pork for just a few seconds Danny grabbed for his water glass. He downed half of it before he felt any relief, and even then it wasn't much better. He'd never eaten anything this spicy hot before. Across the table Michael chewed on his food without any distress.
"Wow, you were raised on this food, weren't you?" Danny asked.
Michael nodded. "A good bit of it."
"Pass the dim sum," Neil said. "Let the boy eat and save the lectures for later, you'll only upset his stomach."
Michael nodded. "No hurry."
They finished the meal and Michael cleared the table as Janet gazed at Danny with expectation. "So...what's your story, Mr. Rhodes?"
The easiest place to begin was when his parents split up, and Danny just stated the facts without adding his opinions. The years of lessons, the concerts, the travel. Janet asked when he had become aware of the money flow and how much they made from his performances.
"I guess I first noticed when we stopped traveling on the bus and started flying to engagements. That was a big relief since the bus always tired me out and that affected the way I performed. But Dad made sure we always flew first class, he said we had an image to maintain.
"I saw his people giving him envelopes filled with cash from the box office or concessions. I just figured that's how it worked. But then after...after this incident I took his briefcase, and that's when I discovered how he was lying to me and stashing money away in secret accounts."
Janet frowned. "You took the case...why?"
"I knew he had money in it and if I was running away I would need a means to pay for my travel. But I had no idea the accounting ledgers were there too."
"So you were planning to go somewhere?" Janet asked.
"I...at first I thought of going back to Tacoma and seeing my mother. But after finding those papers I didn't want her involved. Knowing my dad he would go after her. Do you want to see what's in the case?"
"No," Janet said. "You obtained it illegally and we can't use it unless a judge approves. But if you would write down the names of all the banks where your father transacted business that would be very helpful. Do you have a dollar bill?"
"Yes," Danny said, pulling out his wallet.
"Hand it to me," Janet said, and Danny gave her a dollar. "Good, now in front of witnesses I have received this as a retainer for my services as your lawyer. You'll get the big bill later on. Or perhaps your father will go down in flames and the court will make him pay. Unfortunately, either way, it will probably be your money."
For the first time Neil perked up. "How are you going to handle this?"
"I intend to keep your family out of this. If Mr. Rhodes has no memory about what happened I don't want to encourage him to file charges against Michael. As for Danny, I intend to take his deposition in District Court with a favorable judge I happen to know."
She pulled out her cell phone and consulted the directory before punching in a number. The entire conversation after that was in Chinese, a strange and exotic language to Danny's ear. After just a few minutes of conversation Janet hung up.
"There, that's taken care of. You now have a room booked at the Jade Garden Hotel."
"That's just two blocks over," Michael said.
"Exactly," Janet said. "I will escort Danny over there and get him registered, and then we will return. I have to be in court this afternoon, no way out of that. But I will also call Judge Gwynn and arrange a meeting in chambers for tomorrow morning if at all possible."
She turned to Danny and patted his arm. "You will not have to sleep at the hotel, but we must have you registered there to protect these good people. If all goes well with the judge, then we will involve the police in 'discovering' you have not been kidnapped.
"Tomorrow we will turn the briefcase over to the court. How much money have you removed from your father's possession?"
"Nothing, I just counted it," Danny said.
"I will loan you one hundred dollars to register at the hotel, and then Mrs. Lee will run up a bill from there. I am going to ask the judge to assign a guardianship until this matter of the assault is settled. You will not be charged with the theft and I will insist that the contents of the briefcase be held as evidence which I am sure the judge will approve. That done, the clerk will copy the contents and eventually turn them over to me in a procedure they call discovery. That means I am entitled to any evidence they might have of your wrongdoing.
"But this also means your father will not be able to lay a hand on that briefcase right away and destroy any of those account ledgers, do you understand? You look through it this afternoon and make that list of banks, account numbers and anything else you think will work for us. Shall we go?"
Danny tucked his hair up under a bandana and borrowed one of Michael's ball caps to top it off. He left the house with Janet and walked down the alley, crossed a neighborhood street and then entered another alley until they reached a white metal door. Janet rapped on it twice and it was opened by a smiling Chinese woman.
This was all so secretive, and it made Danny wonder if Janet had done something like this before. But Mrs. Lee Yung led them down a hallway into an office off the hotel's lobby and there Danny filled out a registration card. Janet handed her five twenty dollar bills and she handed Danny a key and a receipt, the deed was done.
Michael had gone out to the store when Danny returned to the house, and that left him alone with Neil. Janet had seen him inside and then left for her court date.
"Get everything done?" Neil asked.
"Yes, sir...thank you, she's a very nice lady," Danny said.
Neil smiled. "She is, unless you're a cop testifying in court. I guess Michael was about five or six when I first ran up against Janet. Her mother runs that Yum Wok restaurant over on Garfield, the family business. Michael worked there for a while, met everyone in the family that way."
"You were a detective," Danny said. "I don't know anything about being a policeman, except what I've seen on television."
Neil nodded. "Some of those crime shows make it look pretty easy. But then by the time they get around to writing those stories the facts are known and the real criminals are in jail. I spent eight years in uniform looking forward to becoming a detective, dumbest thing I ever did."
"But it's an important job."
"Yes, I suppose it is. But it's no place for a philosopher or anyone who expects better from their fellow human beings. Los Angeles is a disaster zone, plain and simple. Janet was one of the few legal types I respected, she's fearless, and that's why we call her Dragon Lady."
Danny smiled. "She seems pretty clever, at least in my case."
"You need to trust her, she won't steer you wrong like others might. As a breed I don't really like lawyers. I've seen too many screwed up situations to trust most of them." Neil shook his head. "Sorry, you don't want to hear me bitch."
Danny stared at the man wondering if he was going to say anything else. He could never have such open and honest discussions like this with his father. Perhaps it was because his dad was hiding something, it sure seems like he was.
"What?" Neil said.
"Nothing, just thinking about my father."
"I'm sorry to say this but he's an example of the kind of human beings I mentioned earlier. The stories I could tell you...but perhaps I won't."
"No, go ahead," Danny said.
Neil nodded. "I spent most of my detective career with a shovel in hand, scraping up the crap in this city into big stinking piles. They used to call me Lucky Keene because I would solve a lot of my cases, perhaps more than others did. It took immense amounts of time and effort...and in the process I neglected my family.
"Michael got in trouble because he started hanging around with the wrong people. I see that as my fault, I wasn't there. Anita did everything for him right up until the last minute of her life..."
Neil had this haunted look in his eyes; the memories of better times were still there. Danny understood he would never know the depth of the pain Neil felt about the loss of his wife. And with that understanding Danny felt a certain amount of guilt since he had now brought more trouble into Michael's life.
"You don't have to tell me," Danny said.
Neil sighed. "Michael is a changed person, and I don't get much of the credit, a lot of that is due to Janet's influence. She really took over after Anita died. I wasn't of much use to him growing up, but his mother had the patience of a saint. He felt like the accident was his fault...it made him vulnerable to the gangs."
Gang warfare had been national news and Danny was at least aware of it even if the details eluded him. He could only imagine how bad it was with this man in a uniform and his son on the other side.
"Tommy was older than Michael, but I don't think Janet really understood how much of a gang member he was. Michael had grown up with the boy, and to his eyes there was nothing bad about Tommy Chong. The truth was far more complex.
"The boy had a minor juvenile record, but so did Michael. Every kid in the neighborhood ran afoul of the law at some point while growing up. It was like a rite of passage. But Tommy's attitude changed as he grew older, and that put him in charge of some of the gang activity. That's when his name started coming up at meetings in the precinct.
"I spoke to Janet about the boy and I'm sure she let Tommy have it with both barrels. In many ways it was unfair to Michael because I think Tommy involved the boy in things just to get even with his aunt...and me.
"Those were not easy times for me or Michael. I tried to get away from the gang related work but it kept following me around. Drugs, shootings and even murder were all a part of a detective's job, and so I had to confront Tommy eventually."
"Did Michael know how bad Tommy had become?" Danny asked.
"Maybe...probably, but I don't think he really believed all that was said, even by me. I was there...I was there when Tommy was killed. The rival gangs had been at one another for days, four dead, shootings almost every night. The chief had all the patrols out looking for the gang members, and I knew where Tommy lived.
"I wanted to stop him, to keep him from getting in the middle of all this...chaos. I had a pretty selfish motive. I didn't want Tommy hurt for Michael's sake...but I was too late. The first shooting was reported over the radio and Jerry, who was my partner at the time, and I hurried over there. By the time we got to the scene it was like a war zone.
"Gangs shooting at one another, cops trying to stop it and being shot at for their trouble. I saw Tommy's car, a big old Buick, like a tank. I looked for Michael, praying he wasn't there instead of at work. But Tommy was behind his car in combat with two of the Delgado men.
"Tommy was quite the martial arts expert and what he did to those two guys was like something out of a movie. My partner and I were both stunned as Tommy tore those two Mexicans apart, but then other gang members saw him and started shooting.
"Jerry and I opened up on the Delgados and Tommy made an unsuccessful run for our position. He was hit four times. The Mexicans started yelling while the Chinese boys took off, and that ended the battle. A gang member named Luis Cruz surrendered to us. I cuffed and arrested him for Tommy's murder. He's doing thirty to life in Lancaster."
Neil got up and poured himself a glass of water, as if to wash the bitter taste out of his mouth. Danny couldn't imagine being shot at by anyone.
"It was a hard blow to Michael...even worse for Janet and her family. But it set Michael up straight and he never went back to the gang activity. Ask him, he's still angry about it. He had trusted Tommy since they were kids only to have the fool lie to him about what he was doing. The Chinese gangs ran heroin and sold it on the street. We found six bags of the stuff in Tommy's car, and Michael was totally disillusioned.
"So, end of story, and not a nice one," Neil said.
"And then you left the police department," Danny said.
"I did, but not just because of the drinking. I had to testify against Cruz in court and Michael's relationship with Tommy was presented by the defense lawyer. They accused me of all sorts of things and I told the lawyers to back off my kid. Internal Affairs got under my skin and basically accused me of associating with gang members so I resigned, took my pension and left.
"Funny thing though...Michael understood. He knew I had nothing to do with the gangs and got Janet up in arms. She threatened to sue the city and the DA's office ordered the Chief to back down. What followed was a crazy time in this city and I still can't believe all that went down.
"You see, Janet wanted revenge and boy did she get it. The Tong came up with lists, evidence of the cops who took payoffs from the Delgados, even a few judges. Heads rolled, and the FBI stepped in. Guys who had been in uniform for twenty years were arrested and the whole dirty mess virtually destroyed the department."
"But you had retired by then," Danny said.
"Yes, I was off the hook, but many of those old cops blame me for stirring it all up, even suspected that I turned them in. The Chief offered to bring me back, but I refused...I'd seen and heard enough by then."
"You worked all those years with people who ended up disappointing you," Danny said.
Neil smiled. "Something like that. Your father disappointed you too, didn't he?"
Danny nodded. "I don't understand, he's changed. When I was growing up I would say my father was a pretty religious man, although not as involved in the church as my mother. But after the divorce he became different, especially when I became successful."
"Do you think he's jealous of your talent?"
"Jealous? I don't see why. He was never interested in singing. Now it's like he has to be in control of everything and what I think doesn't count. I'm not going back to him. No matter what anyone says we're finished."
"You let Janet handle all this," Neil said.
The back door opened and Michael walked in, his arms loaded with grocery bags. "I went by the theater and talked to Mr. Briggs. I still have the job, but he says the cops want to ask me some questions about the events last night. I just played dumb and didn't tell him anything."
"Good," Neil said. "Everything will get sorted out tomorrow. So what's for dinner?"
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
