wondering why I’m calling you.”
“Yes. Yes, exactly.”
He sucked in a deep breath. “I hesitate to reveal details over the phone. There’s a possibility our call could be monitored.” Actually that was a certainty rather than a possibility, though he didn’t imagine Homeland Security’s ever-vigilant telephone monitoring and voice analysis software would tag them as potential terrorists.
“I understand perfectly. Perhaps, if you have time, you might consider coming over? To my house. Have you eaten?”
Ryker didn’t get it, not at first. It took time to sink in, and by then she was saying, “I apologize for my presumptuousness, detective sergeant. I had no right to suggest such a thing. I will leave you to carry out your duties. Please excuse me-”
“No, I haven’t eaten, not yet,” he said quickly. “Listen, Mrs. Lin. I’m at the hospital. The doctors are checking out one of my colleagues. I’m sure she’ll be fine, but I have to stay with her until she’s discharged. If it’s okay with you… if you have no objections… maybe I can call you when I’m free, and arrange to speak with you then?”
He held his breath while he waited for her response.
“Perhaps that would be unwise,” she said, her voice cold now, distanced from him. He could almost imagine shutters coming down, blocking his view of her. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, detective sergeant. Good day.”
On top of that, he hadn’t even had the sense to ask for her father-in-law’s phone number. Ryker threw back his head and laughed at his own stupidity. Two nurses on their way into the hospital looked at him, then exchanged smiles with each other. He wondered if they’d be kind enough to direct him to the psychiatric ward.
Okay, so he’d missed two open goals in a row. His immediate priority was still Sandra Raymond. He went to see how she was doing. He walked past a sign that pointed to the hospital cafeteria. He’d lost his appetite. His anger would sustain him for the rest of the day anyway.
The intern who’d examined Raymond was at the nurse’s station flipping through some charts. He recognized Ryker and beckoned him over. “You’re Detective Raymond’s boss?”
“Hal Ryker. How is she?”
“The good news, no broken bones. Bruising looks bad, but that’s just cosmetic, though it’s going to hurt like mad for a few days. We’ve prescribed a course of pain killers.”
Ryker couldn’t believe how lightly Raymond had got off. “Is there any bad news?”
“There’s a weakness in her left arm that’s likely a result of the blow she received. We’re putting it down to localized nervous shock. The pain killers will reduce discomfort, but she’ll have to exercise the arm, stop it seizing up, keep it flexible. We’ll issue Detective Raymond with an information pack before she leaves the hospital. As to how this affects her job, that’s up to you to decide. She’s left-handed, of course.”
Ryker hadn’t realized, but now that he’d been told he thought back to just before they stormed Amy Wong’s apartment. Raymond had indeed held her gun in her left hand and adopted a southpaw marksman’s stance, wrong foot forward. Like it or not, his team had just been reduced by one. He swallowed his disappointment and said, “I’m just glad it’s nothing too serious. Can I see her?”
“Sure.” The intern pointed along the corridor. “Fifth or sixth door on your right, I’ll talk to the staff nurse, secure her release documents, see the prescription’s ready, and let you both get back to work.”
“Thanks, appreciate it.” Ryker found the room easily enough. Raymond sat in a wheelchair, looking very uncomfortable, her arm in a sling. She smiled when he knocked on the door. “Anyone home?”
“Just us invalids,” she said. “Tell me, doc, will I ever play the trombone again?”
He admired her sense of humor. They both knew things could have gone very differently, in many undesirable ways. “How’s the arm?” he asked.
“A little stiff. Did they tell you they’re throwing me out? I’m a classic hypochondriac. They need the beds for sick people. What kind of hospital is this anyway?”
He pulled a chair up beside her and sat down. “I heard. Is there someone at home?”
Raymond squinted at him suspiciously. “That doesn’t mean what I think it means, does it? Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I need an honest answer, Sandra. If we got into a situation that required you to draw your weapon and take down a suspect, how do you think you’d do?”
She touched her shoulder beneath the sling, feeling the muscle. “I’m confident I could handle it. I know I could.” She drew in a breath. “But I’m not one hundred percent positive. Damn, I hate myself for saying that. The way Guy was talking, it could be worse than it feels.”
“Guy? Oh, your handsome young doctor, you’re on first name terms already? I’m impressed.”
Raymond wrinkled her nose and grinned. “Too handsome, too young,” she said. Ryker grinned too; he knew better than to assume she was serious. “You’re going to report me medically unfit, aren’t you?”
“Personal feelings don’t come into it. I hope you know that.”
“Of course I do. I just feel so lame.”
“The last thing I want to do is expose you to danger on the firing line when you’re not fit for duty. Which brings me back to the question-”
“My sister’s always telling me I should visit more often. I guess now’s the time. Heck, she’ll love having a full-time babysitter.” She craned her neck, looking out into the corridor. “Can you tell someone I need a pay phone? Don’t want to use my cell.”
“Sure.”
“You don’t have to stay. My brother-in-law will come collect me. Hey, you’ll apologize to Sergeant Wallace and Lieutenant Furino for me, won’t you?”
Ryker shook his head. “Nobody’s expecting an apology. You were injured in the line of duty, just as surely as if you were shot. Only this is better, you spared your pal Guy the trouble of having to dig out the bullet. Just between the two of us, he looks like the fainting type.” The corners of her lips turned up. “Why don’t you give them a call yourself? Tell them you’re okay. They’ll be glad to hear it from you personally.”
“I will. I meant it about you not staying. I’m fine. Really.”
Ryker took the hint and left her to her private misery. He asked one of the nurses to make sure Raymond got access to a phone, and exited into the rapidly cooling evening air. He hated hospitals, now more than ever.
She might easily have killed the policeman, at her apartment and here at the hospital, but had decided that the indiscriminate slaughter would dilute the effect of the deaths she had planned for almost three decades. Lin Yubo’s suffering must be pure before he choked upon the taste of her revenge. Nothing must distract him from the fact his immediate family and his closest associates were disappearing around him, until only he remained, stripped naked, alone and vulnerable.
She watched the policeman return to his car. Only the blue-and-white POLICE sign clipped to the sun visor had stopped hospital security from towing the illegally parked vehicle away; two of its wheels intruded onto the sidewalk while the other two lay in a flower bed. He unlocked the driver’s door, but didn’t get in. She held her breath, wondering whether she’d left some trace of her entry behind, as unlikely as this might be. Her hand closed about the butt of the silenced pistol lying beside her on the passenger seat. But his unseeing stare and his blank expression suggested he might be deep in thought, rather than suspicious. She recalled his reaction to the call he’d received on his cell phone. His sudden loss of equilibrium and the sudden flare of temper that had followed the call indicated a highly emotional state. She took her hand off the pistol, and waited.
The policeman shook himself out of whatever mental loop he’d put himself into, and climbed into the driver’s seat. She attached the listening device to her ear and heard him breathing, such was the sensitivity of the radio microphone she’d secreted in his car during his absence. He started the Ford’s engine and backed onto the road. Although there were three cars between them and the probability of his noticing her was close to zero, she slid
