gave; Wallace’s stance, his tightly clenched fists and his reddened face had provided all the clues that were needed. This conversation could only end one way, as incredible and as infantile as it seemed. Wallace’s anger and aggression filled the room. All that was missing was steam coming out of his ears.
Wallace grabbed Ryker’s shoulder and pulled, turning him around to set him up for a haymaker. Ryker was pretty sure Wallace would hold back, since he didn’t want to be charged with murder, but that proved academic as Ryker caught Wallace’s wrist and slammed the heel of his hand into the startled cop’s elbow, straightening his arm with an audible
Ryker put his tie back on and straightened it in the mirror. He took some toilet paper from a stall dispenser and blew his nose. He dropped the makeshift handkerchief into the trash bin on the way to the door, stepping around Wallace, who lay on the floor curled up like a baby, his useless arm cradled against his chest. “Listen up. You make any more chink jokes when Chee Wei’s around? I’ll tear you a new asshole.” Wallace didn’t reply. Ryker opened the door and went out.
Morales stood waiting for him by the coffee machine, a puzzled look on his face. “What was that noise? Sounded like something really big hit the deck.”
“Cueball’s just taking a dump,” Ryker said. Chee Wei entered the detective room, saw Ryker and headed his way. “You got something?”
Chee Wei offered Ryker a couple of sheets that were paper-clipped together. He recognized the lab header and snatched the sheets out of Chee Wei’s hand. He scanned the report, hoping for something major. Instead he only found disappointment. It was by no means the full criminologist’s report; the sheets only contained the results of Miss Xiaohui Zhu’s swab-semen, positive, Mr. Daniel Lin-and blood tests on her skin and on the clothing she’d worn to the Mandarin Oriental-negative, no trace. Since these tests were relatively simple they had been rushed through ahead of the others, for which Ryker supposed he should be grateful. But the report shut a door in his face. It suggested that Xiaohui Zhu hadn’t cut off Danny Lin’s dick, nor had she climbed onto the bed or onto him to perpetrate the knife thrust to his heart that had killed him. No spatter, no smear. She was clean.
Morales sipped his coffee. “Doesn’t look like she’s your girl, unless DNA and other tests show up with something radical.” Ryker nodded thoughtfully. Morales headed back to his desk. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet since returning from court. Ryker would grab him later and give him the opportunity to get his frustrations out.
“We’re fucked,” Chee Wei said, meaning the report.
“That’s the technical term,” Ryker agreed easily. “How about we have another cozy little chat with Miss Zhu anyway?”
“Suits me fine. What’s the angle?”
“Daddy Lin is the angle. She knew the son. I wonder if she knows the father?”
Chee Wei grinned. “You mean in the Biblical sense?”
Ryker chuckled at the joke to mask his trembling reaction to the close encounter with Wallace in the rest room. Norris, Seagal, Van Damme, Jet Li and the rest made it look easy in the movies, but the amount of adrenalin pumping through Ryker’s system would take time to dissipate. He was glad Morales hadn’t offered him a coffee, he would have spilled the damn thing all over the floor.
They made their way downstairs to the holding pen. Xiaohui Zhu’s room was almost comfortable, with cushions on the benches and a window that couldn’t be opened, but let in natural light and gave an illusion of freedom. After peeking in on her and earning himself a frosty glare, Ryker greeted the veteran sergeant, Hoffer, who manned the desk and kept track of the division’s latest customers. They’d known each other back when Ryker drove a black-and-white. “Hey, Hoff. Where are the donuts?”
“I’m looking at one right now,” Hoffer shot back without hesitation. Chee Wei snorted.
“Everybody’s a comedian. We’re here to see Miss Zhu. The Danny Lin case.”
“Oh yeah, the dick murder.” Hoffer made a chopping motion with his hand. “Hell of a way to go.” He checked his book. “Zah-hoo Soo? Is that how you pronounce it?”
“Close enough,” Chee Wei said, though Ryker knew he could have belabored the point and given Hoffer pronunciation lessons.
“Her lawyer’s on his way down. You want to wait for him?”
“We’ll keep her company until he gets here,” Ryker said, not relishing the prospect of meeting Victor Chen under any circumstances. “Bring her into one of the interview rooms, will you? We’ll have three coffees. And don’t forget the donuts. I know you’re hiding them somewhere. The ones with the pink icing and the sprinkling.”
“Sure thing. You want me to suck your dick too?”
“Now you’re spoiling me.”
They found a vacant interview room and waited while Xiaohui Zhu was brought from her cell by a female cop. Ryker nodded his thanks. Xiaohui’s gaze darted around the room, as if she was surprised to find they were alone. She wore standard issue cotton shirt and pants, and a pair of light sneakers without laces. Her jewelry was missing, of course. Everything that could be used as a potential tool to commit suicide resided in an envelope under lock and key in the store room behind Hoffer’s desk.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Chin is on his way,” Ryker said. “We’ll be talking to him in just a minute. Sit down, Miss Zhu. Make yourself comfortable. As a matter of fact, I was just talking to someone else who knows you. We had a meeting upstairs. James Lin. He says hi.”
A fearful expression passed across Xiaohui’s face. Ryker tried not to loathe himself for what he was doing. Icy bitch or not, she didn’t deserve to be scared. At his invitation she lowered herself into a chair.
Chee Wei stood silently by the door in perfect voyeur’s position, his eyes glued to the woman. If she even noticed him she gave no sign.
“Miss Zhu, I’m going to come right to the point,” Ryker said. “I don’t think you murdered Danny Lin, and the forensic evidence supports this. There was no blood on your clothing or upon your person. And the medical examination confirmed exactly what you told us.” She looked up at him with big eyes filled with relief. “I’m sure Mr. Chin has been giving the D.A. all kinds of hassle to get you released. He’s right, we have no evidence. Right after we talk, I’ll get the paperwork stamped. It shouldn’t take long.”
“If you had listened to me in the first place, I would not have had to suffer the indignity of arrest. My own family thinks I am a criminal! And a woman calling herself a doctor physically assaulted me.”
“For which I apologize,” Ryker said, wondering how many lesbian porno flicks Xiaohui had starred in where much, much worse had been inflicted upon her. “I’ll call your sister if you like, and explain our mistake. It’s the least I can do.”
She hesitated, thinking about that, then shook her head. “There is no need for you to trouble my family further. I will do my own explaining.”
Ryker wasn’t in the least surprised. “Great, but if there’s anything I can do, let me know, won’t you?” She afforded him a curt nod. Ryker looked at his watch, looked at the door, sat down opposite her. “Tell me something, Miss Zhu. Did you ever have any dealings with James Lin? What I mean is, did you ever meet him when you were in Danny Lin’s company?”
“Lin Dan would never have introduced me to his father.”
“Oh, sure. I wasn’t thinking. No, I just wondered if you’d met him, perhaps at a social occasion, even if he didn’t realize you and Danny were seeing each other. It just seems to me, and I hope you don’t mind my saying so, Miss Zhu, that you are an extremely attractive woman. Please don’t be offended. It’s just, well, it strikes me as strange that Danny would hide you away in a hotel room. I can’t imagine doing that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not having some kind of midlife crisis fantasy here. But if I were with you? I’d make damn sure everyone knew about it. I’d be parading you up and down the street. I’d be taking out ads in the paper. That’s not poetic enough. Let me try again. You grow the world’s most beautiful orchid, you don’t keep it in your greenhouse. You take it to the world orchid championships so people can admire it.”
Ryker feared he’d gone too far, that his rhetoric might have alerted her to his deep sea fishing. But she showed no sign of suspicion. If anything, in fact, she seemed more relaxed and at ease, as if she found herself in agreement with what he’d said. Perhaps she’d thought exactly the same things herself whenever Danny Lin invited her to a champagne-and-cum session in the Taipan Suite? Was there ever a hooker in all of history who didn’t
