Possibly Jack Again

By Pringle McCloy

Third in the JACK series, POSSIBLY JACK AGAIN follows THE JACK IN A BOX and RETURN OF THE JACK. Mayhem and madness continue as Vancouver PI, Charlie Hampton, travels to Santa Ana, California looking for a boy who may have gone off in search of his biological dad, the infamous drug lord, Richard Chang. Again embroiled in the Triad wars, Charlie uncovers a human trafficking ring and more. But those who know ‘shady Jack’ will also know that he isn’t far behind. Why? Because he never is. It’s always all about him.

So, what about the bodies in the well? Charlie’s best bud, Willy Chan, knows a lot about that little problem. The computer-hacking genius knows a lot about everything and is once again at Charlie’s side helping to solve more than just one murder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pringle McCloy
• Release date: Mar 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370406456

Pringle McCloy

English major. Teacher. Tutor. My interest in mysteries began early in life after discovering a pile of Mickey Spillane novels in my dad’s library. I was taken with tough-guy detective, Mike Hammer, who then led me to Raymond Chandler’s PI, Philip Marlow, and so on. Chandler’s Marlowe and my Charlie Hampton have a lot in common but you’ll have to read THE JACK IN A BOX to see the similarity. Both are tough guys who take their whiskey straight and women tall. THE JACK IN A BOX was written while I was living and working in coastal Vancouver and is the setting for the novel. In the sequel, RETURN OF THE JACK, Jack is the same old shady, underworld figure, off to Beijing for more trouble with the Triad. Third in the series, POSSIBLY JACK AGAIN, is set in Santa Ana, California, where Jack follows Charlie to hopefully help find his own grandson who may have met with foul play. Fourth in the series, JACK THE KEEPER is posted now. Enjoy! J. Pringle contributes too with WOMAN COMING SOON and A MONTH IN THE COLONIES, the sequel. THE TAMING OF SAMANTHA ROE is now posted. All three chick lit novels are a lot of fun.

Book preview

Prologue

Jillian’s wedding day began quietly, so quietly I had too much time to think. ‘What the hell? If she keeps up this pace she’ll have married every loser in town in this very same church. Hmm. Let me think. She almost married Leonard, the aging English prof with bony ankles and hairy toes and lacking even the decency to wear socks. Yuk. But Jack fixed that little problem, since Jack could fix almost anything with his freshly-laundered money. He’d merely bagged Leonard, he bragged in public, for cheap too, since he’d spent money more foolishly on the ugliest hooker in town. Adios, Leonard. Then, for rebound reasons, Jillian married Richard the Cleaver, a Triad drug lord who didn’t quite make it to the conjugal bed. So, then there was me, Charlie Hampton, handsome PI. I was saved because she didn’t actually like me, aside from the fact that our preacher was a bum Jack picked up on the Tahiti beach.

There was also Marco, the shady lawyer, about as crooked as the Upper Levels Highway and twice as slippery. While glassy-eyed Marco had saved her hinny in court – due to numerous parole violations for chaining herself to trees – she decided at the altar that they shouldn’t spend their lives in litigation, since they had nothing else in common. Tout finis.

Anyway, there I was again, standing at the church doors dragging on a cigarette and watching the parade of collector cars arrive. Jack’s gang was cruising in led by Sharp-dressed Tony, Sammy, and the lot. Soon they took their places beside Jack’s West Van cronies, his crooked cops, and myriad thugs with no better place to be. I mean, who could resist a lavish reception at the Pan Pacific Hotel with free booze and high-class hookers thrown in just for fun? Jack spared no expense where his boys were concerned, especially the retirement group including such notables as Billy the Bookie, the youngest at seventy-three. Billy, the Hugh Heffner of his time, drove a Lamborghini and flaunted a harem of buxom blonds trailing along behind him, jiggling their wares. I hoped to be just like Billy when I was seventy-three.

She’s really marrying a loser this time, a voice behind me said.

I turned to face my lifelong best bud, Willy Chan. If you haven’t met Willy yet I should tell you that you’re not likely going to meet a better-looking guy anywhere, except maybe me. But while I have slick dark hair and eyes the color of a swimming pool on the sunniest summer day, Willy has round brown eyes and shiny dark, shoulder-length hair that he tosses just to drive women wild. Whiter teeth than Willy’s come only on toothpaste commercials and they glisten when he smiles. And Willy has a lot to smile about, having amassed a real estate empire from Triad money and, as a double agent, working for Jack. He flipped his hair.

Could Jillian get any lower? I mean who is she kidding? I think she’s doing this just to rile her dad.

I nodded. Could be. You never know with Jillian. She likes to get married a lot.

He punched me on the arm. Well, don’t get any crazy ideas. It will all be over soon. With that he sauntered away.

Amster! a familiar voice hollered. I’m here now. We can bust this wedding up!

Little Jackie Chan came scurrying behind me. He was all spiffed up in wedding attire while his bristly dark hair, three inches high, stayed glued in place by gel. Including the straw-stack he clocked in at five foot three. Jackie and I had a partnership dating back to his arrival in Vancouver fresh from Beijing. When do I need to go out and come back in hollering ‘Bomb! Bomb in church!

Not this time, Wildman. I think this time we’ll just let it go. Karma will take care of it. Karma always does.

Karma? Who’s her?

I smiled. She’s kind of a revenge lady. She’s mean.

He nodded. Ok, Amster. So, you have a girl to fight for you now. You got a bwoken arm?

Sort of. I’m broken in a few places. And all of them hurt.

He showed me his downturned mouth. This isn’t any fun, Amster. Bombs are fun. He left to find his pew.

Julia came along just then, lovely Julia in a tight-fitting taupe suit and with her sleek dark hair twisting into a knot. Jack’s older sister by a year kissed me on both cheeks. You look just dreadful, you know. You should likely be home in bed. A woman of integrity, Julia stayed in shape by running between boardrooms closing deals. And she’d adopted Tommy, Richard and Jada’s son, but that’s another story. Can you believe it’s been five years since Beijing, Charlie? Since we got our precious Tommy?

I believed it. I still had the wounds. And to remind me was our precious Tommy who, at age nineteen, looked very much like his handsome dad, with chiseled Asian features and the sharp eyes of a falcon. He had the height of his Grandpa Jack, too, but a much kinder heart than either Richard or Jack. His heart he got from Jada.

Tommy was seated with Billy Chan and the two turned to wave. A lump stuck in my throat. You see, I couldn’t remember much before Jack pushed us into the Triad wars. I couldn’t remember whether I’d been happy or sad or just incredibly bored. But suddenly there was Leo, Willy’s boss, who didn’t swim so well in the ocean dead. Willy stole the heroin shipment, Jack went to jail, and Richard the Cleaver Chang arrived to avenge the crime. Following that shit-show, Willy and I were off to Beijing where I met and fell in love with lovely Jada. End of story. I brought Tommy home and he was ours to keep. A Jones. Anyone doubting that fact would need to fight me to the death and I fight dirty. Often with a Gloc 9.

Jack tried to flatten me with his hip. Can you believe it, Hamster? She’s marrying stupid.

What? Again?

Well, this time it’s worse than ever. This guy’s so stupid he can’t even tie his own shoelaces.

I studied my Italian loafers. I never have to worry about that myself. But I heard via the vi that Jillian’s future husband is a nice guy.

He snorted. And who exactly likes nice? Nobody! It’s like when you say someone is pleasant. So, what does a pleasant guy do? Pee sitting down? Or maybe he holds his farts until the top of his head blows off. I mean, does anyone ever remember nice? Grandmothers maybe. But that’s about it.

I smiled. Jack was on a roll.

I just can’t believe she’s marrying down. I might have to change my will to protect her, you know. Leave her nothing. So he can’t murder her for my money.

Nice. She’ll respect you for that.

He shook his head. You used to be a lot more fun, Hamster. A lot more. He bolted.

The rustling and bustling of French organza announced the arrival of the bride and her maids and the church went still. She was so damn beautiful! Even through the misty veil I could see her remarkable face, her round hazel eyes, her straight determined nose. She took her father’s arm and they started down the aisle.

Chapter One

Flashback: How we got into the mess.

Jack’s house in British Properties perched on the mountainside four stories deep. Sprawling behind lush hedges the concrete fortress hosted thick black doors, electronic surveillance, and a garage for myriad cars. Inside, a sea of hardwood flowed down the stairways like a log run on the Fraser while crystal chandeliers lit the halls. To get to Jack’s domain I typically followed the trail of artifacts - from lewd to lewder statue - to the very end of the hall. The library was where Jack hid from the Jones women and he also hid on me, except when he wanted something. Then he tore the town apart to find me.

About Jack’s statues… Most were benign in nature but I had a problem with David in the foyer alcove. David didn’t like me. Not that he’d verbalized such, it was just his swaying back and forth and threatening to fall over and crush me whenever I showed up at 33 Terrace Place.

It’s penis envy, I told him upon arriving at Jack’s house on a rainy Sunday afternoon in April. You’ve been shriveling, buddy, likely due to the statue cleaners and their habit of rubbing you the wrong way.

Nothing. Just swaying.

Jack’s bodyguard came to the door. Talking to David again, Charlie? Hope you know he isn’t real. Shoeshine Fatso was a large handsome dude, a Jackie Gleason type with thick dark hair, glossy brown eyes, and a big gun. I respected Shoeshine. I had to. Jack threatened me with him all the time. Got any weapons? he boomed.

Just the usual, Shoeshine.

Good. We may need your firepower later on. He winked at me. When things get hairy.

Behind Shoeshine’s back Renaissance David was flexing his muscle. And not the good kind.

I could smell money. Old money and new money. Money coming out of the woodwork and floorboards, freshly laundered and still with bubbles on the Queen’s stern face. It was trip money, money soon to travel to Switzerland or the Caymans or the British Virgin Islands and back again, or just to stay put in a lazy old-fashioned way. Hidden money, the most exciting kind. While I speak figuratively my nose twitched to the transactions that typically took place over late-night whiskey in the library down the hall. Money over whiskey. How sweet was that? I was home, if only for my routine Sunday visit.

So, Leonard is really gone, then? I asked Shoeshine. Leonard had plans to become Jack’s son-in-law before he disappeared.

Gone. Vanished into thin air. Jack’s so happy he’s throwing a party. Not that he needs an excuse.

I’ll bet he’s happy. And I’ll bet he knows just where Leonard went. And I’ll bet you do too.

Shoeshine shuffled his feet. He knew. Jack had done away with poor old Leonard and the only missing info was the where and the when. Not for me to condemn. I mean, Leonard was not easy to like. Next to Leonard my arrogance looked like humility in disguise, some people said. Well, maybe those people were thugs but the majority of these thugs thought that Leonard wasn’t pretty enough to be such an asshole. And I did too. He was this long-nosed, pony-tailed professor who smelled of pipe tobacco on good days and you don’t want to know about the bad. He had skinny legs and bony ankles and didn’t wear socks. In summer his hairy white toes poked through his sandals, a very ugly sight.

I almost whacked him once myself, the moron. We were at Jack’s house for a party and he pulled me aside. Charlie, he said. This may sound silly but I think you’re jealous of me. You don’t suppose your underlying feelings may be that I’m about to replace you as Jack’s son, do you?

I thought about it. Since Leonard was Jack’s age the idea of Jack fathering him seemed hilarious to me. No, Leonard. I don’t feel you’ll replace me as Jack’s son. I guess I just don’t like you. With that I shuffled off to pour myself a double. But for the