I looked down at people walking along the sidewalk. I decided on the most basic question. “How did the Korean families go in on a project like the beach development? Like how were they organized?”
Ames relaxed. I could tell she was someone who liked to share what she knew. If journalism didn’t work out, she could go into teaching. Older kids probably. High school. She had an edge that teenagers respected. She explained that the Korean Association had a system calledgye, in which every family paid a determined amount into an account and then one family would get to take that money for themselves each month.
Started years ago, the gye was a line of credit set up when Korean families in East End didn’t qualify for credit from a local bank. “Or, let’s be honest,” Ames said. “Some could and some couldn’t. This system allowed those who were better off to guarantee loans for those who couldn’t, and it was also a way to bond the group, in a collective effort. It was not a lot of money; my grandfather told me it started as a thousand dollars a month—a lot for some to have saved—but then you would have five thousand dollars rather than just one thousand for buying a new car without taking out an interest-bearing loan or fixing your house or even toward buying a house.”
She explained that she’d found articles about the original attempt to expand the beach club the year my aunt died with Korean families in town, and nothing had materialized from it. And then ten years later, a large hotel chain in Boston came in and built out the beach club. Recently, the mayor was trying to increase the area to allow for more hotels to come into the coastal district.
She went back to her laptop and opened a file. “Your uncle is standing next to the Leeward board members.” Ames pointed to a photograph ofmy uncle, a middle-aged Mrs. Ku, two other Korean people, and two white men.
“They missed a deadline because of your aunt’s sudden death. There were a lot of misunderstandings; it was confusing, but it’s all in the past,” she said. “It’s crazy to think that they used cash still. A bank check would have worked, but no, they had cash. There were fees for bank checks, you see. Koreans never want to spend more than they have to.” She rolled her eyes.
“My parents never had anything like a gye in any place where we lived. Let me get this straight: This gye could have helped people save to invest in a project like this?”
“Exactly. To have enough for this kind of investment, the majority had to scrimp and save, like my parents. Channing’s family had enough. Mrs. Ku had enough. They owned property in town and stuff,” Ames answered.
“What did the police find when they investigated?” I asked. “Channing told me her father called the police when he couldn’t find the bag with the money in it.”
“There was one report that said Albert Shin reported a missing bag.” Ames opened a folder on her computer screen, glanced at it, and then closed it. “A plain black canvas duffle.” She tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “Pretty nondescript. Like a million out there. Easy for something so ordinary to disappear. Why did your uncle choose that? Why not a briefcase or a leather bag with his monogram on it like all other bankers and lawyers? Seems suspicious to me.”
“It was a lot of cash, Ames. Maybe it didn’t fit in his usual bag,” I said. “The police report failed to include an important detail. There was yellow paint on that black bag. There’s a lot more they could have missed.”
She scowled at that but then replied, “It must not have been important, or maybe Albert didn’t tell them about it.”
“Really? You think? Channing said it was a big streak of yellow.” I didn’ttell her I’d had that bag in my very hands. I had to focus on what could be done, not on regrets.
“There was a list of people the police interviewed. No one had anything to say because who would steal it? It was their money. All those families wanted the development to succeed. Why would they ruin it for themselves?” Ames said.
I explained my uncle’s reaction when the money went missing. “He couldn’t accept that the bag was gone. He was so angry and not himself those days. He never recovered. No one believed him. That hurt him the most.”
“Where did it go then?” Ames replied flatly.
Ignoring her cynicism, I said, “So you saw the list of people the police interviewed, but what did people say in those interviews? Did anyone see anything? Could someone have taken it? There was an ambulance called to take my aunt’s body to the hospital to confirm her death. Could it have been a nurse or another medical person? What about the driver or whoever else was around that day?”
“Convenient to cast blame on other people doing their jobs.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“You want it to be someone else, so that you don’t have to accept that it was your uncle.”
“No, maybe it’s easier to believe it’s him so you don’t have to search further. The police chief back then and certainly the one now doesn’t care what happens to a bunch of Asians. And my mother is right about not living in a town with so many Koreans. All they do is gossip.”
Ames walked to the door of her apartment and held it open. “Time to leave,” she said with a tight-lipped smile.
I stayed where I was by the table. “I’m sorry. I don’t agree with my mother. What if someone did steal that bag? Don’t you want the truth?” Ames’s expression didn’t change, so I added, “What about your feature?”
“There won’t be one. The newspaper is closing.”
Maybe it really was time for me to give up. Clearly, Ames didn’t care about the past because she was dealing with the present. I flipped through the newspapers laid out near her laptop.
“Paul said something about that. What’ll happen to your job?” I asked.
“It’s hardly a job when they print shit like that last piece. It’s like they want to use my name so they can pretend it’s real journalism,” she said.
“I read it,” I said. “Not what I expected, honestly, but they should have given you more space.”
“My editor cut it to pieces. I should havehisjob,” she said. “So is that all?” She still had her door open and was waiting for me to leave.
“Couldn’t people in East End chip in to buy it, or maybe it can be a website only?” I suggested.
