Why Did He Die?

Chapter 15

What Lee described as we sat in the hot tub was a daunting undertaking which could go wrong any number of ways. He detailed an elaborate scheme for extracting capital which required unpredictable cooperation from men who detested him. My job was dealing with the details. Lee said, “I want a three day party. I want pretty boys, photographers and Porsches for the johns, my investors. He felt giving them the pictures and negatives would draw them.

When I asked for more details he shook his head and said, “You decide. I want to keep the men off guard from the moment they arrive.” Finally, on a quiet Friday night when the boys were out I told Jim about Lee’s plan. He simply said, “I’m not worried and you shouldn’t be.” I was puzzled at his comment. I didn’t know what he would think of Lee’s plan since Brisbane and his friends tried to kill Jim. Jim snuggled next to me and fell asleep.

I left for the office early the next morning so I didn’t wake him. I designed an eye-catching invitation which, I hoped, virtually required attendance. Thirty-two invitations were courier delivered to the intended recipient. If we got twenty acceptances we would make the investment goal of two hundred million dollars.

A small ivory card contained the following information:

Thirty-two invitations were delivered. According to the courier service, six men accepted our invitation before the courier left. Over the next two days sixteen email confirmations were received and three negatives. I called Lee and told him who was attending.

Lee said, “The other ten are going to regret not coming. Now that I know who’s coming I know what escorts I have to secure. I’ll have the escorts in Cairns by November 28. You have the cars ready?”

“Lee, there aren’t that many fire engine red, canary yellow or jet black Porsche Carrera convertibles in Australia.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

I regularly wondered how Jim would react if he ran into his attackers — the bodyguards who might be attending. On one of the few weekends Jim and I had without the boys he and I were lazing around in bed on Sunday morning. We had sex and were cuddling in the afterglow. I said to Jim, “What will do if you recognize your attackers?”

He didn’t speak immediately, “I really don’t know. I am alive and have rarely thought about that night. You know me well enough to know I would not do anything overtly violent. In a way I blame myself since I put myself in harm’s way.”

“They tried to kill you.”

“I think the goons thought I was Lee.”

“Know that I am not so easy about the matter. Let me know if you decide to break someone’s head or kick them in the balls.” We both laughed

Three hectic weeks later Jim and I arrived in Cairns after an eleven hour flight. Rob, Michael and Jason joined us. The five of us were driven over the curving roads to the Port Douglas marina where Lee was waiting on the new Sulu II.

Lee was relieved to see us. The humid air was hovering close to ninety degrees. Jim and I were still dressed when we heard laughter in advance of the three boys dressed in white spandex exercise pants emerge from the cabin below.

Rob looked at Lee, “How did you know our sizes?”

We couldn’t help but laugh. Lee smiled and said, “I remember our sail with the Japanese on Tampa bay. You can wear those and a white tank top at the white party.”

“I will but Michael and Jason will have to stuff socks in their pants.” Rob added, “I don’t need any.”

“And fuck you, Hearn; I’ve seen your puny little pud.” Jason spit back at him.

Lee said, “You guys go up front and meet the crew. I need to talk to Jim and John.” Before they moved, two tanned Aussie guys and two beautiful girls in tiny strap-bikinis appeared from the foredeck. The sleek, white hull of Sulu II rocked gently in the inlet. Lee said, “We are going for a sail.”

Lee led us below and waited us we changed into swimming suits and tank tops. I said, “Lee, I have never been so stressed getting ready for a meeting. Miraculously it has come together. All we have to do is see what happens.”

“I never had any worry.”

I handed Lee a bulging manila envelope, “You better read these emails. The men you have invited may be coming but they don’t have nice things to say about you. I wonder if we need bodyguards for you.”

“Don’t worry. No one is going to hurt me.”

Jim added, “I have done the research on the Malaysian company. It is what you said it is. From what I found out from my sources, these guys are way ahead of the curve.”

Lee ordered the crew to cast off as he started the twin diesels. Lee stood at the wheel as the boat slipped stern first into the narrow channel. Once the bow was pointed outward, we traveled five or six kilometers before clearing the north end of the Great Barrier Reef. The afternoon sky was menacing with the sun peaking only intermittently through the clouds. Rob directed Michael, Jason and one of Lee’s boys to set the sails. Lee turned the wheel over to the other Jason, a six foot muscular, blond Aussie dressed in a throng that contoured to his ample cock.

Jim, Lee and I moved the aft deck chairs closer together and Lee smiled, “John, you and Jim make my life sane.”

“Thanks, you will not hear those words from me. The last two months have been crazy. I won’t give you many details but I hired photographers John Wexler from Sydney and Masumoto from Tokyo, two of the top fashion photographers in the world. I have rooms for the escorts at the Turtle Cove Resort. The setting seems perfect for their photo shoot.

The golden sunset bathed us as we motored back into the channel. After docking and dressing the five of us left and checked into our suite at the Mirage Resort. The two bedrooms shared a spacious deck with a small lap pool. Within minutes three tanned, handsome, naked boys were splashing in the pool. Jim ordered room service deciding it would be more fun than finding a restaurant. After stripping off our sweaty clothes we jumped in with the boys. Jason commented seeing his father’s hefty Korean manhood said, “Dad, now I know why I’m the way I am!”

“You’re not as big as your dad,” Rob teased. Before an argument could develop the doorbell chimed and Jim got out of the pool.

A handsome, dark Aboriginal man arranged the food on a glass top dining table surrounded by six high backed lacquer chairs with flowered cushions. He touched the dimmer switch to soften the light on the art sculpture and lit four large candles. He went about his work laying out the table complete with white bone china, crystal glasses and white linen napkins. He quietly left with the food covers in place.

Still in the pool Rob’s commented, “I’m hungry. Let’s eat.” That was the invitation to wrap towels around our waists.

After a few bites Rob asked, “John, what are we supposed to do when the parties are going on?”

“You are invited to all events that you want to attend or you can stay here by the pool. Your main job is not to act surprised at anything or anyone that you see. If you get cruised by any of the older men or the escorts, use your best judgment.”

Jim said, “Wait a minute. I don’t want Jason doing that.”

“Dad, I know what John means. If I mix it up with anyone I will be careful. I know how important this is.”

“Not that important, Jason!”

“Rob will take care of me.”

Jim smirked, “That’s suggesting the fox watch the hen house.”

Rob laughed, “I think my good name has been besmirched, but I will go out of my way to insure that Jason has a good time. It’s my obligation.”

The next morning’s sky was robin’s egg blue and the humidity had slightly diminished. I drove to the Turtle Cove Resort before the escorts arrived. I told the owner, “Malcolm, no one pays for anything. Don’t worry about charge slips since our deposit probably will cover everything. We want three days of partying.”

After checking to see that the wardrobe truck was unloaded, I joined Andrew’s friend Marcos, my Philippine wardrobe consultant, for a light lunch and a glass of smooth, deep-red Australian Shiraz.

The escorts arrived by mid-afternoon and there was plenty of grousing about the heat, humidity and the remoteness. I was getting worried since these guys were the entertainment for the investors. I gathered the group on the pool deck and started, “Welcome all. Welcome to Port Douglas, Queensland. I am John Haffner, event coordinator. Let me introduce Marcos, our fashion consultant, and photographers John Wexler and Masumoto. We’ve provided an extensive selection of designer wear for you to select from. Mr. Wexler and Masumoto’s assistants will be scheduling photo shoots for each of you. After the photo shoot the clothes will be yours.”

After hushed whispering I continued, “Tomorrow each of you will greet a man who you already know. Your job is to make his stay as pleasant as possible.”

A slim, tanned Australian stood up with his hand in the air, “Sir, will we know the man?”

“Yes, you know the man you will escort. What’s your name?”

In a heavy Australian brogue he said, “Simon Anderson.”

“Mr. Anderson your guest will be Harold Huntingdon from San Francisco.”

“Gawd, yes, I know Mr. Huntingdon.”

There was polite laughter.

“The rest of you can come up to the front to find out the name of the man who you’ll do anything and everything to please for the next three days. The decisions were made by Lee Kwan, the owner of your service.” When Lee’s name was mentioned there was shuffling and whispering. “When you come forward, you will be given a set of car keys for one of the Porsche 911 Carrera parked in front of the resort. Does anyone not drive stick shift?” Two hands went up. “OK, make sure you get one of the automatics.” A collective groan came from the more macho guys.

“Sorry for so many instructions, but in addition to the name of your guest, you’ll receive the expected arrival time of your guest’s flight if they are coming by commercial airline which most are. Could I see the hands of Mr. Austin Bower, Mr. Lee Yu and Mr. Antonio Corsini?”

Three muscle-bound men stood and looked across at each other. “Your guests will arrive by private jet at the Port Douglas Airport. Since we don’t know exactly when they will arrive you need to be at the airport two hours before the estimated arrival time. I don’t want anyone waiting on the tarmac.

“The Mirage is Port Douglas’s upscale, architectural award winning resort that is the site of the party tomorrow night. You will be staying at the Turtle Cove Resort when you are not with your guest. We have reserved the entire Turtle Cove Resort which is a men’s only resort. The resort is clothing optional and is the site of the photo shot that Mr. Wexler and Matsumoto will be directing. The resort is on a two mile stretch of private beach. The portfolio the photographers create will be of yours and you’ll have to work with them following the meeting to get it completed.”

A tanned, blond six footer with a college-face stood, “Sir, I’ve a question. Do we have to sleep with them?”

“You don’t. That’s your choice.” I continued, “At the end of the meeting you will each receive $15,000 USD for your service. The checks will be passed out after our guests leave. Tomorrow night’s reception is resort black tie. Monday night there will be a beach barbeque at Turtle Cove after the photo shoot. Apparel is your choice. Tuesday evening will be a lavish white party. Clothing must be white. Finally, while most of our guests know each other professionally, some may not know that the other likes to be with men; and a couple of men prefer men in drag.”

A squeal came from a cute Asian on the front row, “Thank gawd Myron is coming. Are there new clothes for me, too?” he said in a high pitched feminine voice.

“Armani, Gucci, B & G — your choice.”

“Oh my gawd. Oh my gawd!”

“Any other questions?” A rugged, weathered handsome, older man stood, “I know I am here for Mr. Brisbane. He told me about the meeting. Why in the hell did you bring us all the way from California to this hot, humid, God-forsaken place?”

“I apologize if you don’t like humidity. That’s one thing we can’t do anything about.”

The escort said, “Mr. Brisbane says this meeting is bullshit.”

“Well, in deference to Mr. Brisbane, he’s wrong. And, sir, you do not have to stay. I do not want anyone at this event that is not totally committed to helping these gentlemen have fun. So, sir, do you wish to stay?”

Sullenly, he said, “Yes.”

“Your name?”

“Stephen Miller-Douglas.”

“Well, Stephen, Mr. Brisbane will be arriving by water tomorrow afternoon. Check with the harbor master to see when they have communicated from his yacht. We can take you out to meet him or you can wait at the marina.”

Trays of drinks were passed around. I nervously proposed a toast. Few lifted their glasses. The men began to drift away with few smiles showing. Not ten minutes later I heard a crunch and knew someone hit something with their car. Walking in the direction of the parking area I could see the escorts gathered around the front end of a yellow Porsche. I thought, “Shit!” Thankfully, there was only a tiny scratch on the front left bumper.

My stomach was in knots as I stood in the lobby of the Mirage. The hotel manager approached me and told me all the investors checked in without incident. A tall, blond escort approached me, “Sir, could I ask you a question?” I nodded. “Mr. Bastow wants his bodyguard to disappear. He is sorry he brought him. Can the guy stay someplace other than in our suite?”

“Tell Mr. Bastow there’s room at the Turtle Cove.”

“He doesn’t care, as long as he’s away from us.”

“Aren’t you the fellow who asked about sleeping with…?”

“Yeah, that was me. But with him it is alright. He is so nice.”

“Inform Mr. Bastow that we will take the bodyguard to Turtle Cove or to the airport for a plane to Sydney, his choice.”

“I’ll do it.”

An air conditioned tent beside the kidney-shaped lighted pool was set for cocktails. Curvy ice creations shimmered with red Birds of Paradise centered on a table filled with sushi and sashimi. Mounds of fresh fruit and vegetables were intended for the calorie conscious escorts.

Few people arrived at the appointed time. Lee fidgeted nervously. Finally, a somber, scowling Mr. Brisbane led the men in mass into the tent. He wasn’t smiling. He was conservatively dressed in an open necked white silk shirt and tan Bermuda shorts. He wore gold chains and bracelets in excess. Stephen, his escort, walked behind him dressed like Brisbane’s deckhands in a designer black and white striped tee shirt and white sailor bell bottom pants.

Some men and their escorts were identically dressed in white tuxedo jackets and black Bermuda shorts. One escort arrived in tight, torn blue jeans and a bowtie. His gentleman, a Mr. Brown, who was tan and well built like his escort, was topless except for his bowtie and white cuffs with gold cuff links. Wexler and Matsumoto’s flashes created the atmosphere of a Hollywood movie premiere.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead as the lights dimmed. Lee stepped onto the stage. He paced nervously. The group was intentionally ignoring him. He stood in a bright spotlight before the microphone waiting for the group to quiet down. His skin glistened with sweat as he began. “Let me welcome all of you to Port Douglas for this conference. I will take only a few minutes to describe the agenda. Tomorrow starting in early morning the young men will be photographed at the Turtle Cove Resort. They know the time of their appointments. You are invited and encouraged to attend their photo shoot, if you wish. The resort is men only, so it should be fun.”

“I brought two international experts to Port Douglas: Mr. Boland Symthe from the London investment firm of Symthe, Brown and Swain and Mr. Alexander Lowden of the Hong Kong Investment Institute to speak. Their presentation will be no more than two hours starting after lunch tomorrow here at the Mirage. We will gather at Turtle Cove for an Australian barbeque in the evening to watch the sunset and party. The final business meeting will be Tuesday morning at 10:00. We will end our conference with a party at the Port Douglas Yacht Club with world famous entertainers.”

As if timed to lighten the tension a spotlight swung away from Lee toward a scream, “Hello everyone!” Standing there was the Asian drag queen, Siam, covered in sequins and feather boas with reserved Myron Castleboom close by. She squealed, “We’re here! Bring us champagne. Mr. Band Leader — my music.” The crowd, even Brisbane, smiled and applauded. Siam was joined by four drag queens that followed her onto the stage plus half a dozen tanned, buffed boys in gold sparkling thongs. The boys began to gyrate to the beat of the band. Siam lip-synched Donna Summer’s Hot Stuff Baby Tonight. Lee disappeared.

Jim and I slept overnight at Turtle Cove. I could hear the roar of Porsche engines as the first escorts arrived the following morning. Most escorts wanted to be photographed in the early morning light. Two artists applied makeup and oil to the buffed bodies. I listened as the models snipped at one another with comments like, “Baby that went out two years ago… Purple and mauve… I don’t think so! Stuff more socks in your pouch you don’t fill it up!” There were more sneers than smiles.

Models dressed and undressed as a few investors watched quietly. Mr. Wexler posed men on the boulders, among lush green tropical vegetation while Masumoto used studio settings to showcase the men. The men concentrated until their shoot was over when they jumped into the ocean or the pool. Most left quickly after their shoot. The sun got intense. By mid-afternoon the resort was empty. I suspected the escorts were told to leave as soon as they could.

The photographers offered to take pictures of Jim, me and the boys. Marcos ordered us to undress to our underwear which none of the boys was wearing and dressed us in white shorts, sandals and matching floral silk shirts. Wexler took family shots while Matsumoto directed us to undress and follow him to the beach. He posed the boys for thirty minutes before Jim and I were invited to do a family photo. I couldn’t wait to see the pictures.

After our shoot the boys splashed in the pool before we had lunch on the patio. The boys excused themselves as Jim and I sat talking quietly before Jim and I napped fitfully. At three I checked on the boys. I found them sleeping comfortably and I loved the images so I went to find one of the photographers. I wanted their innocence preserved. Quietly Wexler snapped pictures. He started with Michael, then Jason before completing with shots of Rob.

After he was finished I went out to speak to the caterer who was firing up a giant barbeque pits and setting the buffet tables. A three piece combo was setting up under a thatched canopy. Wearing only a thong I approached the band leader with his tobacco stained beard who was unpacking his mandolin. He said, “Dude, you da man we wanna see.”

“How can I help?”

“Do you care if we wear what you’re wearing?”

Laughing I said, “I think there will be plenty of skin. Adding yours is fine with me. I hope someone shows up.”

“OK, man, we got it. Play first, commando later.”

As Jim and I were showering I said, “Lee hasn’t been around all day. I wonder if he’ll come tonight. I wonder if anyone will come tonight.”

“Who knows?” Jim said, “After last night I’m sure he is concerned if not frightened about what might happen.” The party got started about eight o’clock under a stark white full moon occasionally blocked by meandering clouds. Lee stood as Jim and I waited expecting to hear the Porsche engines but didn’t hear any. Finally one car with Siam and Myron pulled into the resort parking area. They walked toward us. Myron said, “John, no one is coming per orders of Brisbane, the asshole. I thought it was rude not to tell you so Siam and I are here. We can’t stay.”

Lee was fuming but waited for them to leave before he exploded with a sting of expletives. “That arrogant bastard, he is not going to fuck up this deal.” He continued to rant as he walked to his car and sped off.

I stood quietly thinking, “What the fuck is going to happen tomorrow morning.” The party was over before it started. The five of us and the band had plenty to eat. I sent most of the food home with the band members. The five of us returned to the Mirage.

Jim and I lay in our bed looking at the ceiling with our hands cupped behind our heads. He moved over and put his head on my bicep with his nose in my left armpit. “Smells good enough to eat.”

“Go ahead.” He licked and nibbled before reaching my lips. He took my lower lip and slowly covered my mouth with his. Our tongues tangled.

“You’re tense. I am fucking you, OK.”

“You are right. I’m nervous.” He proceeded with his tongue to lick down my body. He took my balls in his mouth and slowly, methodically rolled them before tonguing his way up my shaft to my dick head. He took it into his mouth as he was playing with my right nipple. I relaxed as he lifted my legs and positioned himself. I quietly said, “I wonder what in the hell is going to happen tomorrow?” Jim was too busy and didn’t answer.

His engorged, stout Korean dick slipped past my first ring. I winced. He said, “We’ll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.” I stopped worrying and began to enjoy this man who I admired and trusted. I couldn’t keep my mind focused. Too many things could go wrong tomorrow. Jim’s climax was anti-climatic but he didn’t complain. We snuggled, showered and finally drifted into light sleep.

At five minutes until ten the next morning the conference room was ready. Lee shifted nervously from one foot to the other at the head of a long shiny teak table. I placed name cards in front of each chair. At exactly ten Mr. Brisbane led the investors in. He sat on Lee’s left. There was stony silence. While the waiters finished serving tea and coffee no one spoke.

Glaring at Brisbane Lee began, “I hope you’re enjoying your time in Port Douglas. We have entertainment this evening for our final night together. I have invited the adorable Dame Edna Everage and Hugh Jackman, the young actor who soon will be taking the popular Australian musical The Boy from Oz to Broadway.” There was nervous laughter and whispers. He continued, “The reason for our gathering is business. I’ve invited you here to offer you the opportunity to make an investment. Your decision to attend this conference allows you to acquire something that each of you, at one time, badly wanted. Our photographers have not taken your picture without asking your permission. I’m proposing to return some pictures of you that were taken without your permission.”

After audible side talking attention returned to Lee. “I think you have figured out that each of you was the target of Andrew Henley’s blackmail. I presume you know Andrew died some time ago. I have been able to acquire the pictures.”

“Lee Kwan, stop right there, you asshole,” Brisbane snapped. “I don’t believe you. Show us.” He spun his chair around to the others. “Until I see evidence, you’re a fraud, Lee Kwan.”

Brisbane’s outburst caused more sweat to form on Lee’s forehead. The lights dimmed as eyes turned toward a descending screen. The first image was of a fifty-something man with his legs up and Andrew’s youthful, solid butt wedged between his legs. The man’s face was clear as was his penetrator. The room was quiet.

In a rustic lodge setting a second man was pictured completely naked with his manhood impaling Andrew.

A voice was heard, “George is dead.”

“Yes, George died last year before he knew he could have the pictures and negatives returned to him.”

Attention turned to two more pictures in quick succession. “Stop, you’ve made your point,” Brisbane snapped.

Lee turned back toward the group, “All four of these men have passed away. The next pictures are of the men who chose not to join us in Port Douglas.” He turned as if to start the slides.

Brisbane turned toward the men at the table and said. “Lee, enough, get to the fucking point.”

“Yes, get on with it” was heard from several others.

Lee started again, “For the past six months I have been looking for a new technology to market. I found it in Malaysia. My San Francisco firm — L-K Electronics has been providing a Malay firm with vast quantities of our tiniest microprocessors with 2000 GB capacity. They produce extremely high definition plasma screens using little energy and without the need of adaptors to accommodate power variability. This company is ready to announce production of a slim, high resolution screen that is going to make them attractive to big manufacturers as an acquisition target or a sole source provider. I want to buy them before that happens.”

Brisbane snapped, “So how much do you need, asshole.”

Lee stared but without hostility said, “Ten million US dollars from each of you and from you I need twenty million dollars.”

Brisbane leered and stood. He snatched the stack of envelopes that was lying in front of Lee. “Lee, these are the pictures, correct?” Holding up the envelopes Brisbane continued, “These are the pictures that you, and I mean you, not Andrew, used to blackmail us?” Lee’s facial expression was stoic and acknowledged Brisbane with a nod.

Several bodyguards moved forward. Their guns were bulging under their shirts. “Lee, we presumed you wanted money but we didn’t know how much and why. How much total money do you need?”

“Two hundred fifty million!”

“Why do you think the guys in KL will sell?”

“They will. Trust me. I have discussed the deal with one of the three owners. They’re about to split the company. It is about money but I don’t know more.”

“Can the company be bought for less?”

“Maybe.”

Brisbane stood before the group as Lee backed away. Brisbane turned and spoke to him, “Here is the deal. I speak for the group. We are each in for ten million dollars and more if people want to buy more, but no one will own more than 5% of the preferred shares that will control the company. You will get 1% at no cost but you will not have a management role. The investors elected me Chairman of the Board. We also plan to buy L-K Electronics.”

Lee said, “It’s not for sale.”

“Yes it is! We appoint Jim Park President and CEO, and John Haffner Executive Vice President and CFO. We will work out their salary and stock options later, but it will definitely be more than you were paying them. If you try to interfere our friend the Senator will let the IRS know about your unreported income.”

Lee stood dumbfounded glaring at Brisbane. “That’s not enough ownership for me. I want 3%.

Brisbane stared back at him, “If you plan to leave Port Douglas in one piece, you will happily take the deal.” Brisbane handed out the individual envelopes containing the pictures. “If there are any left over hand them to John. Where are the negatives?”

Lee sheepishly held out a bulky envelope, “We did not try to sort them.” Brisbane grabbed the envelope and motioned for the guests to follow him out into the small courtyard. Brisbane stood before a blazing fire in a small barbeque, which was burning when he opened the door. He said, “Here go my pictures which I do not choose to look at. I am burning the negatives. You can burn your pictures or keep them. That’s your choice.” No one said anything as the men walked up to the fire and tossed in their pictures.

Mr. Brown said, “I plan to remember those nights with Andrew, which were really great and gave me the confidence to do what Aston and I are doing here.”

“Brisbane said, “That’s your choice.” When the picture burning was finished, the group returned to the conference room. The Moet champagne was wheeled in. Corks popped. Brisbane stood before the group and said, “Jim, when do we fly to KL to finish the deal?” He completely ignored Lee.

“No need. Mr. Mohammed and his partners are in the resort as our guests, Jim said attempting to exert his newly acquired influence. “I can arrange a meeting for this afternoon. We have purchase documents ready.”

Brisbane said, “As soon as the preliminary papers are signed, we will get together to sign our promissory notes and other documents.” Lee moved to the back of the room.

Brisbane was not in the mood to wait. The dark-skinned Malay executives joined Mr. Brisbane, Mr. Castleboom and Mr. Bastow, Jim, Lee and me at 14:00. The main partner, Mr. Mohammed, negotiated hard but in the end the company was bought for less than Lee had projected.

The Malaysian partners signed over their company but agreed to remain in senior management positions for a transition period. Brisbane instructed Jim to plan a trip to Kuala Lumpur to inspect the plant and the processes. Lee said almost nothing. His facial expression was that of a scolded puppy. He left the Mirage immediately after the documents were signed.

The day which began angry had turned into a celebration. The pictures were not mentioned except for Myron Castleboom who proudly showed off his naked pictures when he was slimmer and had a full head of curly hair. Brisbane approached Jim and me, “You two have done an outstanding job planning and executing this event. I don’t understand how two talented guys like you could work for that asshole. Tell me one thing where did you find the pictures and the negatives? I have been looking for five years.”

I said, “They were not found in one place. Some were in a safety deposit box in Santa Barbara, the bulk of the pictures were in a locker at the Bohemia Club and the negatives with a few pictures were sent to Andrew’s lawyer out of the blue when his grandmother passed away in England.”

“I didn’t know about England; damn. Well, how do you guys feel about what we have done?”

“Honestly, Mr. Brisbane, the business deal is Lee’s, not ours.”

Brisbane snapped, “He was the brains behind the blackmail. And one percent is enough for the idea. I noticed Lee’s boat is gone.” Jim and I looked at each other knowing what Lee planned to introduce the entertainment.

Jim said, “We have details to work out when we get back to Hong Kong. We work for Lee’s other companies: the import-export business which is separate from L-K Electronics. There is a travel agency and a freight forwarding company that are substantial.”

“OK, I will buy them and we will liquidate them.”

“That’s Lee’s decision not ours.”

“No it’s not,” he said unapologetically. “You’re accepting my offer?”

“Yes we are,” Jim said. “When are you going to talk to Lee?”

“I will go talk to him now if I can find him.”

“I think he is coming to the party?”

“I don’t know. I saw them provisioning his boat.” Undeterred Brisbane continued. “Can you both be back in San Francisco around February 1?”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

Porsches roared out of the Mirage parking area before six that evening. Under the full moon a white tent with three giant poles stood in the yacht club parking lot. Lee negotiated use of the entire marina area by giving the yacht club members tickets to the party. Eight investors and escorts per table sat in front of the stage. The tables were decorated with exotic orchids floating is watery trays highlighted by votive candles. On stage was a six piece orchestra with a single microphone stand.

The band played Frank Sinatra’s “Do It My Way.” The lights dimmed and the crowd quieted. A single spot light shone on the microphone stand. No one stepped to the microphone. There was murmuring and uncomfortable waiting.

Jim whispered, “Lee’s not here. Get up there and say something.”

“Shit, he did leave.”

I choked back a cough and started to the stage. Again the crowd quieted “Welcome everyone. On behalf of Lee Kwan I want to thank you for the hospitality of the Port Douglas Yacht Club and its commandant, Mr. Shepherd.” I could feel the sweat trickling down my back into my underpants. I cleared my throat. “I hope you have a wonderful evening. It is my pleasure to introduce Australia’s most famous housewife, Dame Edna Everage.” Applause erupted as the Dame came to the stage.

She entered waving a solo gladiolus which she threw toward Brisbane. “Hello, possums!” Looking directly at Mr. Brisbane she snarled. “I see we have an entire table of friends of Dorothy. Stand up for the audience to see the kind of people my son, Kenny, hangs around with. I have been trying to find him a sweet, young Australian girl. He won’t listen to his mother.”

Edna paused when no one at the table stood up.

“Now come on Bruce let’s not be coy. Does your family know that you are hiding in Port Douglas with your boyfriend?” I was squirming and sweating.

Brisbane got up and called, “Edna, darling, I divorced my wife because she could not understand why I preferred to be with boys and not her. She was a lot like you, a bitch.” The crowd screamed.

Unflappable Edna said, “Well, handsome; come up here to Edna…You have one of the big ones tied up at the dock, don’t you?”

Brisbane stepped up onto the stage. “Edna, my big one is right here.” He patted his crotch as he waited for the laughter to die down.

She motioned to Stephen, Brisbane’s escort, “Get up here, you hunk.” He hesitated but slowly stepped into the spotlight dressed in a tight white tank top and extremely tight shorts.

“Looks like he has a big one, too.” The banter got entertainingly course until Edna said, “Boys, go sit because Edna is going to sing a song for you.”

Brisbane whispered in Edna’s ear. With her trademark twisted lips she said, “Possums, Bruce invited me to go nude sailing. I don’t think the world is ready for this body to be exposed.”

The crowd exploded with laughter and applause. After her performance Stephen escorted Dame Edna to the Brisbane table. After dinner was served and the dishes were cleared the guests’ attention returned to the stage. The lights in the tent dimmed and the stage lights came up.

The buffed, spirited Jackman dressed in a billowy white shirt open to the naval and skin tight white trousers took the stage singing Peter Allen’s “I’m a Boy,” followed by a medley of the songs from the musical The Boy from Oz. With Rockette-type dancers surrounding him he ended with “Australia is My Home”.

After dinner the band played seventies and eighties’ music for dancing. Suspended mirrored disco balls sparkled over the dance floor as the guests watched and listened for the first couples to take the floor. Siam jumped up pulling Mr. Castleboom with her. Aston and Mr. Brown followed them. The floor quickly filled with celebrants who danced until two.

At breakfast the investors including Brisbane were happy. Everyone was gone by noon except Brisbane, Stephen and the crew of his yacht. As Jim, the boys and I stood on the dock Brisbane said, “We are sailing east to Fiji and maybe all the way to Tahiti. I will be back in San Francisco by late January. You can get in touch with me anytime through my San Francisco office.”

“You haven’t seen Lee or his boat?” I asked.

“No, I told you yesterday that Sulu’s slip was empty. Good riddance to Lee as far as I am concerned.” I didn’t feel similarly but kept my thoughts to myself. “We’ll see you in San Francisco. Safe travels.”

After Brisbane’s yacht was away Jim pulled out an envelope. “This was given to me when I checked out.” He read:

Looking at Jim and the boys I said, “Well, there we go.”

“Let’s take the boys and sail away since that seems to be the thing to do,” Jim said. Without trouble we leased a sixty-five foot sloop similar to the Sulu with a captain and crew to sail in and around the Great Barrier Reef before ending in Sydney. We left that afternoon.

POSTSCRIPT

Three weeks later back in Hong Kong Jason successfully took his examinations and graduated shortly thereafter. He had received early acceptance at the University of Pennsylvania and returned to the US with Rob and Michael. We knew they were going to look for a place to live together near their respective campuses.

Within two weeks I had completed the sale of Lee’s companies to Brisbane. Jim has been to Kuala Lumpur twice working with the Malaysian managers. In January Jim and I flew to San Francisco for the first official shareholders meeting.

The day before the meeting a uniformed military attaché from the Consulate of the Kingdom of Togo appeared at the L-K Electronics offices in the Embarcadero. The receptionist called and told me a large man was standing in front of her asking to see the President. I found Jim and he and I introduced ourselves to the consular attaché. The plump, uniformed, brown man asked if we could speak privately. Jim led the way into our board room. From his courier pouch the attaché spread before us pictures of a wrecked sailing yacht with the name ‘Sulu II’ visible on the bow.

He read the official marine police report stating that boat was found wrecked on a coral reef off the north coast of one of the archipelago’s islands. The report stated that there was no sign of life when the wreckage was spotted. The attaché told us that the islands had been struck by a cyclone several days before the boat was discovered. Because the yacht was registered to L-K Electronics in San Francisco the attaché was dispatched to inform us of the incident. He handed a stuffed plastic packet to Jim and said, “This was found among the debris.”

I said without thinking, “Lee’s ego couldn’t take it. To the world it may look like an accident but I think it was suicide.”

Jim smiled, “He may not be dead just living in the South Pacific. I don’t think we’ve seen Lee’s last act. What’s in the packet?”

I opened the small plastic freezer bag. Inside was a scrawled handwritten note with ‘Last Will and Testament’ written at the top. The water-stained document read, “I, Lee Kwan, being of sound mind make this my last declaration since it appears the Sulu II will not survive this storm. I declare that all my worldly assets should go to the Andrew Henley Foundation.”  He named me executor and the document ended with ‘Andrew, you will never know how much I loved you’. Lee.”

Jim looked at me, “Well, what do you think?”

“Lee did love Andrew. As much as I believed Andrew was killed by Lee I have to accept that the St. Maarten police report that stated that he was the victim of a crazy, psychotic man. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. What spooks me the most is that Andrew knew he was going to die.”

Jim reached toward my face and with his index finger wiped my tear away. We held hands.