end.”
“Okay, I think we’ll have a better idea of things by tonight,” Gulliver said. “You and Ahmed go talk to Bella’s professors at FIT . Talk to her classmates. See if that gets you anywhere. If it doesn’t, go talk to everyone in her building again.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “But we already talked to everyone in her building, and didn’t you talk to the professors and staff when you went to talk to that Philipps girl?”
“No one said this was exciting work, but that’s how it’s done.”
“Okay. Whatever.”
Gulliver threw a twenty and a ten on the table. But as he hopped down off the booth cushion, Tony grabbed him by his right bicep.
“Don’t let her go, Dowd. You let Mia go, she won’t come back.” Then Tony released his grip.
Gulliver left the diner without saying another word, but he knew Tony was right.
FIFTEEN
Gulliver was exhausted by the time he’d worked his way into Flushing, Queens. Flushing began as a Dutch colony. It was best known to baseball fans as the home of the Mets, but these days its population was largely Asian. It rivaled the Chinatowns in Manhattan and in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, and was also home to a huge Korean population. Without a doubt, it was home too to some of the best Asian food in all of New York City. And that was really saying something. But Gulliver wasn’t hungry. He was not here for soup dumplings or kimchi. He was here to see Gun Park. No joke. No play on words.
According to Tony, Gun Park was the head of Gangpae in New York City. Gangpae was the South Korean Mafia. Of all the newer gangs in New York, Gangpae had the biggest conflict with the old New York mob. The trouble had to do with the transport of electronics and garments from the New Jersey docks, Newark Airport and Kennedy Airport. Along with carting and construction, the trucking of cargo had long been controlled by the Mafia. There was a time when even asking the wrong kind of question about those businesses could get a man’s leg broken. Sometimes much worse. But with the RICO Act, the government had badly weakened the old mob. The Mafia’s rep no longer scared new players.
If Gulliver had not believed that before, he did now. He had spent most of his day walking into the dens of the most powerful organized-crime bosses in New York City. The storeroom of a Syrian food store on Atlantic Avenue. A Chinese teahouse on Mott Street. A Dominican bar in Washington Heights. A Bulgarian social club on Ditmars Boulevard. The reactions he got were the usual. A mixture of curious stares, annoyance and laughter. The laughter came to an end when Gulliver kicked someone’s ass. Or pulled out his SIG . Or his knife. But come to an end it did. After that he was treated with respect for his courage and skill.
All the gangsters he met with agreed that they had issues with the old New York mob. Some of them laughed at it, as if the Mafia were a quaint relic like a rotary phone or a TV set with a picture tube. None of them felt the least bit threatened by the old mob. Gulliver suspected that these guys talked braver than they really were. But he wasn’t there to argue with them. Only to find out if they were angry enough with Joey Vespucci to grab his daughter. Most of them got pretty angry when Gulliver mentioned the possibility.
We don’t make war on the children of our enemies, they told him.
Gulliver believed them. They all offered to help in any way they could to find Bella. Gulliver believed that less. But even if he had, he wouldn’t have taken them up on the offer. It didn’t always help to have more people beating the brush. Sometimes it was better to have fewer people, who knew what they were doing. This was one of those times.
Now here he was in Flushing, but this time there were no fights. No one pulled a weapon. All Gulliver did was ask to see Mr. Park. It seemed as if they were expecting him. They might have been, for all he knew. Word spreads.
After patting Gulliver down and taking
“Okay, I think we’ll have a better idea of things by tonight,” Gulliver said. “You and Ahmed go talk to Bella’s professors at FIT . Talk to her classmates. See if that gets you anywhere. If it doesn’t, go talk to everyone in her building again.”
Tony rolled his eyes. “But we already talked to everyone in her building, and didn’t you talk to the professors and staff when you went to talk to that Philipps girl?”
“No one said this was exciting work, but that’s how it’s done.”
“Okay. Whatever.”
Gulliver threw a twenty and a ten on the table. But as he hopped down off the booth cushion, Tony grabbed him by his right bicep.
“Don’t let her go, Dowd. You let Mia go, she won’t come back.” Then Tony released his grip.
Gulliver left the diner without saying another word, but he knew Tony was right.
FIFTEEN
Gulliver was exhausted by the time he’d worked his way into Flushing, Queens. Flushing began as a Dutch colony. It was best known to baseball fans as the home of the Mets, but these days its population was largely Asian. It rivaled the Chinatowns in Manhattan and in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, and was also home to a huge Korean population. Without a doubt, it was home too to some of the best Asian food in all of New York City. And that was really saying something. But Gulliver wasn’t hungry. He was not here for soup dumplings or kimchi. He was here to see Gun Park. No joke. No play on words.
According to Tony, Gun Park was the head of Gangpae in New York City. Gangpae was the South Korean Mafia. Of all the newer gangs in New York, Gangpae had the biggest conflict with the old New York mob. The trouble had to do with the transport of electronics and garments from the New Jersey docks, Newark Airport and Kennedy Airport. Along with carting and construction, the trucking of cargo had long been controlled by the Mafia. There was a time when even asking the wrong kind of question about those businesses could get a man’s leg broken. Sometimes much worse. But with the RICO Act, the government had badly weakened the old mob. The Mafia’s rep no longer scared new players.
If Gulliver had not believed that before, he did now. He had spent most of his day walking into the dens of the most powerful organized-crime bosses in New York City. The storeroom of a Syrian food store on Atlantic Avenue. A Chinese teahouse on Mott Street. A Dominican bar in Washington Heights. A Bulgarian social club on Ditmars Boulevard. The reactions he got were the usual. A mixture of curious stares, annoyance and laughter. The laughter came to an end when Gulliver kicked someone’s ass. Or pulled out his SIG . Or his knife. But come to an end it did. After that he was treated with respect for his courage and skill.
All the gangsters he met with agreed that they had issues with the old New York mob. Some of them laughed at it, as if the Mafia were a quaint relic like a rotary phone or a TV set with a picture tube. None of them felt the least bit threatened by the old mob. Gulliver suspected that these guys talked braver than they really were. But he wasn’t there to argue with them. Only to find out if they were angry enough with Joey Vespucci to grab his daughter. Most of them got pretty angry when Gulliver mentioned the possibility.
We don’t make war on the children of our enemies, they told him.
Gulliver believed them. They all offered to help in any way they could to find Bella. Gulliver believed that less. But even if he had, he wouldn’t have taken them up on the offer. It didn’t always help to have more people beating the brush. Sometimes it was better to have fewer people, who knew what they were doing. This was one of those times.
Now here he was in Flushing, but this time there were no fights. No one pulled a weapon. All Gulliver did was ask to see Mr. Park. It seemed as if they were expecting him. They might have been, for all he knew. Word spreads.
After patting Gulliver down and taking
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