by S. J. Rozan
Strawman’s pistol glinted when he tucked it into his belt. Ming’s was enough, anyway. Strawman crossed the concrete and picked up the dripping woman. Her eyes had glazed over and she didn’t seem to notice. Her head lolled against Strawman’s giant chest. Linus, though his mouth was open, had enough sense to stay silent.
“It is a lunatic,” I said.
“Oh! This punk here, that’s him? Have to admit, he looks a little crazy.”
“Not him.”
“Oh, so, what, the dog?”
Ming, who’d moved the gun to point at Linus, now shifted it to Woof. Linus stepped in front of the dog. Ming chuckled.
“Hold him,” I said quietly, passing Woof’s collar to Linus. “And don’t move again.”
“You got a death wish, I guess,” Lu said conversationally. “It was your idea for me to check out the girls’ GPSs. It seems there’s one at St. Vincent’s, too, I’ll go get her later. They say she’s okay, just dehydrated, bruised up, hysterical but they have her on meds. What the fuck did you do to her?”
“I saved her life.”
“After you beat the crap out of her or something? I mean, what?”
“It wasn’t me. Tell Ming to put the gun down.”
“No. He just got it back and he’s enjoying it. He and Strawman just got out of jail, or we’d have been here sooner. Because Ming had the tracker, so we had to wait before we could follow your helpful advice. You, kid. Take your fucking dog and get out of here. I ever see you again, you’re dead, too.”
Linus didn’t move.
“Go,” I said. “It’ll be all right.”
“The fuck it will,” Lu said. “But go!”
“No.” Linus found his voice, though it squeaked. “You’re wrong. We saved her.”
Lu shrugged. “Well, it’s all the same to me. This is a good spot.” He looked around approvingly like a man who’d been searching for a place to picnic.
“Linus, get the hell out of here!” I said.
“Too late,” said Lu.
Ming waved the gun, trying to herd us closer to the water. Woof began to growl. “Lu—” I said, but someone else was speaking to Lu, too.
The woman in Strawman’s arms had lifted her head. A light had come back into her eyes and she was croaking out raspy Chinese, coughing as she talked. Lu answered and they went back and forth. She shook her head emphatically, spat a machine-gun round of words as her voice got stronger. I glanced at Linus. He shrugged. “Fujianese. Even if I spoke good Chinese I wouldn’t understand that.”
Lu said to Strawman, “Take her to the car.” He turned to us with a smile, but it wasn’t a smile I liked. “Well. I’ll be a son of a bitch. Jasmine says it wasn’t you after all. She says you saved her life.”
Ming gave his boss a look of confused disappointment. But he didn’t lower the gun, and Lu kept smiling.
“She says a completely different cocksucker came to her crib,” Lu went on. “Paid for an all-night party. He asked for her particularly because Junie recommended her. Junie’s the girl at St. Vincent’s,” he added helpfully. “I’m sure, since it wasn’t you, you didn’t know that.”
“I did know that. She told me her name when I saved her life.”
“So let me see if I’ve got this straight. A lunatic’s running around kidnapping my girls so you can save them?”
“I told you that this morning.”
“I still don’t get it. It’s like a scavenger hunt? You two are playing a game with my property? You think that’s okay?”
“I think it sucks.”
“You do? But you’re doing it.”
“I also told you he has my partner. Remember, the clues? The plastic bags?” I pointed at Woof’s treasure.
Lu pursed his lips, gave an exaggerated nod. “That’s one of them? The clue bags? You mean they’re real?”
“The whole thing’s real.”
“No. The whole thing’s bullshit even if it’s real. What the fuck does your partner, your lunatic, your clues, any of this crap have to do with me and my girls?”
My answer was cut off by a shout from Strawman, the first sound I’d ever heard him make. We all turned. Flashing red and blue lights, about six blocks east, but headed down the hill and right this way.
“Shit!” spat Lu. He spoke some quick Chinese to Strawman. “You.” He pointed at me. “Get in the car.”
A stonier rock and a harder place, I couldn’t imagine. But Lu might be on the verge of believing me. The NYPD was a whole different story. If I stalled until they got here, I’d be safe from Lu but I’d be in lockup and Lydia would be out of luck.
“Let the kid go,” I said.
“Get in the fucking car!”
Well, he could hardly shoot Linus with the cops about to swoop down. I said to Linus, “Stay on it,” wondering if that would be possible without me. He nodded, biting his lip, and I got in the Escalade.
Not back on the floor, as it turned out, and not on the seat. Strawman put Jasmine down outside the car, made sure she could stand, if shakily, on her own feet, and lifted up the backseat bench. He grunted me to the empty space under it. It wasn’t lost on me, as I crawled in and he dropped the seat into place, that the compartment was the right size for a body.
For about five minutes I knew nothing except the stink from the river water soaking me and the heat from the cooling driveshaft, for which I was ridiculously grateful. Then three thuds as three doors closed, some squeaks as weight dropped onto the seat over me, and a jostle as the car started to move.
The driveshaft became a less agreeable companion now. I had to keep shifting as it heated up, and I had some argument with the Escalade’s suspension, too. I wondered where we were going. I wondered what Lu had said to the cops. I wondered where Lydia was, and how she was doing. I hoped Linus and Woof were okay, and that Linus had remembered to pick up my jacket, because he’d need my phone when Kevin called again. I didn’t know whether Kevin would speak to him. But if anyone could think of some way to make that happen, it would be Linus.
And what other choice was there?
I was twisting repeatedly, breathing deeply, trying not to panic and just about at the end of my talent for that when the car stopped. Doors clicked open, springs squeaked, and finally the seat lifted up. “Jesus, you stink worse than Jasmine,” Ming growled. “Get out.”
He held a gun in his hand, not pointed at me but discreetly by his side. He clamped on to my arm as I climbed from the hold. He might have been helping me out of the car if he and I had both been different people. As it was he propelled me onto the sidewalk, and then, elbowing aside tourists and little old ladies, to a nondescript apartment building’s shadowed doorway. We were on the south side of Bayard, the heart of Chinatown. I tried to pull away. Ming yanked me closer.
“I can slam you over the head and carry you in,” he said quietly. “Or you can walk in. Mr. Lu wants to talk to you and that’s not a question.”
A small plaque by a buzzer read CHINATOWN ASSOCIATION FOR ANCIENT ARTS. Ming shoved me through the front door. At the end of a short hallway a door opened. The middle-aged, heavily made-up Chinese woman who held it wrinkled her nose when I got within sniffing distance. I couldn’t argue. She stood aside for us, and when I entered I saw, surprisingly, a staircase running along the rear wall. Left and right from the entry foyer ran two smaller hallways, with doors opening off them. The entire first and second floors had been transformed into one huge duplex. No way this was legal, and I wondered how much it was costing Lu to get the city to ignore it.
Ming steered me left, into a cliché Chinese parlor: bamboo birdcages, fringed upholstery, crimson silk wallpaper. I could see the open door of an identical one across the hall. Lu lounged on the sofa, and Strawman in the easy chair.
“One of your cribs?” I asked Lu. “A little gaudy, don’t you think?”
“Not my taste, either,” he shrugged. “But the clients like it. Go take a shower.”
“What?”
“Yo
u think I’d let you sit here like you are? You know how much this shit cost? Mama-san will show you.”
The woman with the wrinkling nose gave me a cold bow.
“The hell with that,” I said. “I don’t have time for this, Lu.”
“Yes, you do. Your lunatic already called.”
“What the— He called? Goddammit!” Now I spotted what I should’ve seen before, my jacket and shirt, my shoes, and the plastic bag on the table next to Lu. And my phone in his hand. I started forward but Ming clamped on to me again. I said, “Tell this son of a bitch to let go or I’ll kill him right here!”
“Ming, for Christ’s sake, the way he smells? Don’t touch him if you don’t have to.” Ming slowly loosened his grip, but he didn’t step away. “Smith, you should be happy, now I believe in your lunatic.”
“Like I care what you believe. What the hell did you tell him? Did you screw this up? I swear to God, Lu—”
“Back off! Just back off. I didn’t tell him anything. The kid talked to him. He told him you had a problem and to call back in twenty minutes. So go take a fucking shower and get back here. I want you to stop stinking up my place and I want you there to talk to him this time. Not the kid.”
I took a breath, looked around. “The kid,” I said. “Where is he?”
Lu rolled his eyes. “Down in the basement, washing the fucking dog.”
I came out of the shower to find my shirt, socks, shoes, and a pair of jeans I’d never seen before on the chair beside the stall. The jeans weren’t a bad fit. I wondered whose they were and how eager he’d been to give them up. When I got back down to the garish parlor I found Lu and his sidekicks, and Linus, Woof, and a pot of coffee. Three out of six ain’t bad.
Woof, looking fluffy, stood and wagged a greeting. I asked Linus, “Did Kevin call again?”
“Not yet, dude.”
Linus was drinking a Coke. I poured myself coffee. Maybe I should have waited for Lu to offer, but courtesy hadn’t been a hallmark of our relationship.
“So,” Lu said. “Dude. Tell me what the fuck is going on.”
I ignored him, spoke to Linus. “Why the hell are you here?”
“I told you back at Nicole’s. I go where you go.”
“That’s not real smart, Linus.”
“Neither of you is real smart,” Lu said.
I sat, tried the coffee. Not bad, for a whorehouse. “What happened with the cops?”
“Concerned citizen called.” Lu seemed amused. “Nervous about cars by the water, worried it was a drug deal. Probably the dealer who owns that turf.”
“What did you tell them?”
“Slacker here said the dog fell in.”
“They bought that?”
“Who gives a shit? It made enough sense, they had no probable cause to search. They stuck their heads in both cars anyway, but nothing in plain sight, they had to leave us alone. After they were gone I told Slacker to beat it. I was explaining why that was a good idea when your phone rang.”
“Kevin,” said Linus. “I told Mr. Lu, lean in close.”
I said to Lu: “So you heard him?”
“Oh, I fucking heard him,” Lu said. “When I find him I’ll fucking kill him.”
“Did he give you anything?” I asked Linus. “Did you talk to Lydia?”
“No and no. He was kinda pissed it was me. I said you had a problem but he should call back. It was the best I could think of. He was mad he couldn’t talk to you right then but he liked the problem thing.”
I nodded. “That was good.”
“Yeah, it was brilliant,” Lu said. “After that I told Slacker to give me the fucking phone and get lost, but he wouldn’t. Ming was going to just take it and dump them both in the river, him and the dog, but Jasmine didn’t like that and she was starting to sneeze and all kinds of shit. So instead, here we all are. Now. Tell me what the fuck this is all about, who this cocksucker is, and where I can get my hands on him. Because he’s going down slow and ugly. And then I’ll decide about you. And Slacker. And maybe I’ll keep the fucking dog.”
I got up for more coffee. “Lu. If I knew where to find him, why would I be crapping around with the rest of this?”
“Because, like he says, it’s a game.”
“For him. Not for me. Once I find Lydia you can have Kevin and make it as ugly as you want. But if you screw this up before I find her, I’ll kill you.” We stared at each other stonily. Ming started to rise. Lu waved him back.
“I know I didn’t just hear you threaten me under my own roof.”
“I wouldn’t be under your roof for a second if I knew where the hell to go.”
“You think you could just leave?”
“You think you could make me stay?”
Now Ming did stand. And Strawman with him. And Linus said, “Dudes?”
Everyone turned to him. Lu spoke in disbelief. “Dudes?”
Linus flushed. “Fine, whatever. Just, maybe we could do this later, and do something else now? More constructive, you know?”
“Like exactly what?” I asked.
“Like, I dunno, that?” He pointed to the plastic bag.
I turned toward it, dumbfounded. A new collection of clues and I was busy playing bull elephant with Lu. Jesus! In two steps I was over there, knocking aside Ming’s arm as he tried to stop me from getting near his boss.
“Let him,” Lu said, and Ming subsided. “Let’s see what this clue shit is about.”
I tore the bag open and dumped it out on the carpet.
Only three things: a long silver screw, a printout of a photo, and a book. Lu cocked his head. “What the hell?”
“I don’t know.”
He leaned forward. “Last Days of Old Beijing? Maybe I should read that. Learn something about the homeland. Never been there, you know.” Pointing at the photo: “Who the hell is that?”
“Chevy Chase, I think.”
Linus wrinkled his brow. “You mean, the comedian?”
“Yes.”
From Lu: “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Chevy, like, you’re supposed to think of cars? Chase, like, ‘Try and catch me’? Or some famous routine of his?”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“This is what it’s like? The other times? Bags of junk like this?”
“Every time.”
“But you figured them out?”
I said nothing.
“That screw. You suppose it’s just, ‘Screw you’?”
I looked at him. “It hasn’t been like that before. It’s been real clues, not messages to me. But I wouldn’t put it past Kevin. Then the book . . .”
Linus finished the thought I didn’t want to: “Could just mean, Lydia’s running out of time.”
“And Chevy Chase?” Lu asked. “Haha, very funny, big joke?”
My heart sank. If this was just Kevin mocking me, if these weren’t real clues, then time was slipping away, Kevin had gone to a whole lot of trouble for a laugh, and we were no closer. I stared at the screw, the photo, the book, trying to force them to reveal their secrets. Nothing. But I was struck by a different thought. “Lu. He’s a client here.”
“Who, your lunatic? Mama-san says he just came here once.”
“And once to Junie’s place, and once to Angelique’s. And Lei-lei’s. Maybe someone knows something about him.”
“They usually don’t leave résumés. And the cops have been swarming over all my cribs all day, thanks to you. I’m losing a fortune.”
“Not thanks to me. Thanks to him.”
“Funny, because they’ve been showing the girls pictures of you.”
“The cops are way behind the curve.”
“Yeah, well. If I knew what he looked like—”
“Shit!” That was Linus. “Why didn’t I think of this already?” He had the iPhone out, was swiping at it. After a minute: “Dude? This him?”
I looked at the photo on the phone’s screen. Kevin’s mug shots from ten years ago. I felt a surge of fu
ry at the sullen mouth, the accusatory eyes. I nodded. “According to Lydia he doesn’t look like that anymore, though.”
Lu took the phone from Linus. “This fat slob is the one who’s making all the aggravation?”
“That’s ten years ago,” I said. “He’s changed.”
“Shit,” Linus said. “Wish I had the iPhone Photoshop app. I can buy it and install it now but it’ll take a little time.”
To me that was gibberish, but Lu said, “Photoshop? That’s what you need, kid? Ming, get one of the girls who knows how to work that.”
Linus didn’t look at all surprised that Lu had the technology he needed. I supposed I shouldn’t be, either: the oldest profession, adaptable as always.
Ming came back with not just one of the girls, but Jasmine. Dressed in tight jeans and a rhinestone-studded T-shirt, shag haircut still wet from the shower, she sauntered into the parlor and over to me, climbed into my lap, threw her arms around me and kissed me.
“Jesus, doll,” Lu said, but without heat. “What did I say about giving it away for free?”
“He save my life. He get anything for free he want.”
“I appreciate it,” I said. “But not right now.”
She pouted, turned to Linus. “What about you? You busy guy, too?”
Linus flushed to his scalp, muttered something, shook his head. Lu laughed, which made Linus flush darker.
“Listen, honey,” Lu said to Jasmine, “all he wants right now, that kid, is Photoshop.”
Jasmine unfolded herself from my lap, strolled over to Linus, laid a hand on his shoulder. “Computer make you happy? Come. We go make you happy.”
“Just the computer!” Lu said as Linus hesitated, then rose to follow her. “Jasmine, did you hear me? No samples!”
“Don’t worry, dude,” Linus mumbled. “Totally do not worry.”
“He a virgin?” Lu asked me as Linus, Jasmine, and Woof disappeared upstairs. “Maybe I’ll break the no-freebies rule for him, this works out okay.”
Ming snickered. I said, “I have no idea.” I did have some idea how that might go over with Trella, but I kept it to myself.
“This lunatic of yours,” Lu said. “What’s his beef with you?”
“He hates me.” I drank coffee, too tired to go through it all with Lu and not giving a shit, really, if he knew or not.
