safe?”
“Yes,” Nyby said. “I have about a hundred photos of the entire area, taken by a Nikon D700 digital camera. Also HD video through the same system.”
“Has anyone disturbed Baluyevsky’s body?”
“No. The first person to find it didn’t touch it, and we have video to confirm that. It was one of the landscapers.”
Manning nodded and looked at Lin. “Lin Yubo, what do you want to do? If we call the police, then another department will take charge of this investigation. We’ll be shut out, but the chances of them catching Lin Dan’s killer go up…though only slightly.” He spoke to Lin in Mandarin, shutting Nyby out of the conversation.
“I know this. What do you suggest?”
“How much money do you have in the house? Right now?”
“Two hundred and sixty-seven thousand dollars in cash. Much more in gold, silver, platinum, and gems.” Lin didn’t bat an eye.
“Give the landscaper one hundred thousand dollars to forget about what he saw here today. Then get your people to dispose of the body. The guy’s stiffening up, so the sooner he gets hidden the better. Do you have next of kin contact information?”
“Baluyevsky had no one.”
“So much easier, then. Where is Ren?”
“Upstairs, still in his room. He had a great deal to drink last night, as always. Why do you ask?”
“Just trying to get a handle on who was where when this went down.” In English: “Nyby, you said you have video of the attack?”
“Yes.”
“And no one saw it go down in real time?”
“Manning,” Lin said tiredly, “I do not require constant manned surveillance of my own property.”
Manning snorted and pointed at Baluyevsky. “I very much disagree.” To Nyby: “Show me the video.” He looked at Lin. “Ryker would be extraordinarily interested in this, and in the disappearance of your manservant, Lin Yubo.”
“As…as am I, Manning. As am I.”
Ryker was still in Valerie Lin’s bed when his cell phone started vibrating in his jacket. His jacket was on the floor near the door, but the phone rattled against the hardwood floor, and Ryker slowly disengaged himself from Valerie and slid out of bed. He picked up the phone but didn’t recognize the number that showed on the display. He looked back at the bed and saw Valerie was still asleep. He contemplated returning to her side and nestling against her warmth-the master bedroom was a little chilly-but the phone continued to vibrate in his hand. Even on a Saturday morning, he was getting calls.
So he did exactly what he thought he’d never be able to do: he slipped on one of Danny Lin’s terry cloth bathrobes and slippers (both were too small for him). And then he stepped into the white marble bathroom and redialed the number that had called him.
“Good morning, Detective Sergeant Ryker.” It was Chee Wei.
“What’s up?”
“Got some info you might be interested in,” Chee Wei said breezily. “I’m in the city. Want to meet at the Starbucks near your place? Market Street and, what, Polk?”
“Market Street and Fell. We can’t do this over the phone?”
“Got stuff to show you,” Chee Wei said. He sounded like he was enjoying the whole cloak-and-dagger bit a little too much. “Believe me, we’ll all want to see it.”
“Who’s this ‘we’ you’re talking about?”
“You and me for now, then Spider and the rest of the crew. Maybe even Captain Jerkoff himself, if he can remember he’s a cop first and a politician second.”
Ryker sighed quietly. “When?”
“Jeez, what the hell’s wrong with you? I’ve got a treasure trove here, and you’re dragging your ass? Meet me in thirty minutes, is that good enough?”
“Yeah. Okay.” Ryker hung up just as the bathroom door opened. Valerie stepped inside and looked at him. Her face was an emotionless mask as she examined him while he stood there, stuffed inside a bath robe and slippers that were three, maybe four sizes too small.
“You look like you’re about to bust out of that robe,” she said finally.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?” When he didn’t answer, she said, “Because you think I might feel badly about you wearing my husband’s things, now that he’s dead?”
“Yeah. I guess, yeah.”
She shook her head, and her black hair shimmered in the light like some rare substance that was covered beneath a thin sheen of lacquer. “You worry a bit much…Hal? Can I call you Hal? Or would you prefer detective sergeant?”
“Hal’s fine, Valerie. A bit odd getting that worked out in your bathroom, though.”
“Who was on the phone?”
“My partner. He has something he wants to go over. He wants me to meet him at a Starbucks in SoMa.”
“The ABC?” she asked, using the term for American-Born Chinese. “Fong. That one?”
“One and the same.”
“So you’re leaving?”
“Yes. I think I have to.” He wanted to take her into his arms, and after a moment, he did. She came to him willingly and placed her head against his chest, her hands resting on his hips. Ryker bent over and kissed the top of her head. “Are you all right?”
“I have to pee,” she said with a slight giggle.
“Oh. Well, have at it, then.”
Ryker stepped outside and got dressed. He heard her go to the bathroom and flush the toilet, then turned on the water to wash her hands and maybe brush her teeth. He moved to the door, intending to ask if she had a spare toothbrush-Ryker’s mouth tasted a lot like the inside of a garbage can. But over the running water, he heard her sobbing. Quietly, because she was trying to hide it from him. He hovered outside the door for a moment longer, then turned and walked out of the bedroom.
“You’re late,” Chee Wei complained. It was almost 8:00am, and the Starbucks was already crowded. Ryker didn’t doubt he’d had to fight to keep his table. Maybe he’d even pulled his gun.
Ryker shrugged and sat down opposite him on a wooden chair that was off-balance. He tried to get comfortable, but the chair kept rocking around under him. He’d taken the time to buy himself a small coffee, and it tasted like rocket fuel.
“So what do you have that’s so important you couldn’t tell me about it over the phone, but have no problems discussing in the middle of a crowded, noisy Starbucks?”
“I heard from my cousin last night…well, more like this morning. Remember how I told you he was with the Hong Kong PD? He did some digging for me and found out some really interesting shit about James Lin.” Chee Wei smiled and took a swig of his skinny double half-caf mocha latte and looked damned pleased with himself. Ryker patiently sipped his no-frills coffee and wondered when Chee Wei would show the goods.
“Dude, you’re gonna love this,” Chee Wei promised.
“Any chance we can get this done before lunchtime?”
Chee Wei reached to the bag on the floor beside him and opened it up. Ryker frowned.
“Chee Wei. Is that a
“It’s a
“Wow, it’s all in Chinese, even. Impressive,” Ryker said as he swigged some more rocket fuel and looked around the coffee shop. To think he woke up in a mansion just off of China Beach this morning, lying on a bed that
