down in her seat and angled her head to hide her face, keeping only one eye above the dash. He turned around and headed for the exit. She sat upright and started her Toyota’s engine. Its electronic ignition made hardly any sound. She followed the policeman out onto the main road. Other cars slid in front of her, blocking her line of sight, but this didn’t worry her in the slightest. Now that she had established contact with him, and was totally focused on his
His phone rang. He said, very clearly, “Fuck off.” For a moment she thought he’d spoken into his phone, but the ring tone continued. He hadn’t answered yet. Scraping followed by a dull
“Ryker.” He shouted so his cell phone would pick up his voice.
“Detective sergeant, it’s Debbie Price. I just got the six o’clock call from Detective Fong. Everything’s fine. He knows to call you from now on. How’s Detective Raymond?”
The policeman, identified now as Detective Sergeant Ryker (she rolled the sounds around her tongue as she memorized his name), said, “She’s sitting up and smiling. She’s going to call Lieutenant Furino and Detective Sergeant Wallace, let them know she’s okay. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Oh good. I’ll let everyone know.”
“That’s great. You have a good night, Debbie.”
“Thanks, you too. See you tomorrow.”
The phone call ended. He continued driving, heading back to her apartment, she was sure, and she continued to follow him. Her training demanded that she should never go there again, that the location was blown, that someone might recognize her and in doing so, compromise her own safety. But she had an opportunity to learn what the police already knew of her, which might well improve her chances of completing her mission successfully. This made the risk acceptable, though she could not afford to relax for a second. If anything threatened to compromise her then she might have to change her stance on killing only those close to Lin Yubo. She would prefer not to widen the circle of death but she might not have a choice in the matter. Circumstances would dictate her response to any action by the police, or by those elements employed by Lin Yubo who might choose to intrude into her space, alerted perhaps by information fed to them by the police. Risks within risks within risks, only to be expected as she moved toward the end game, gathering speed and momentum. She would react explosively to any attempt to interfere with her plans. Those who dared move against her, or chose to stand in her way, would not live to regret their foolhardy decision.
He surprised her by taking a hard left just as the lights ahead began to change. She put her foot down and negotiated the junction just as waiting traffic surged forward. The sound of angry horns faded behind her. She had memorized the city’s street grid so she knew precisely where they were, and which direction they were traveling. West along Jackson, above and parallel with California Street. Apparently he had changed his mind about returning to her apartment. Where was he going, and why? She considered the possibilities. Guessing served no purpose other than to serve as a distraction, since she had three hours to kill before tonight’s scheduled conference, which she had every intention of attending. She could not return to her apartment, and obtaining alternative temporary accommodation in the city carried an additional element of risk, since they would expect her to do just this. She followed him not only to gain information that could be of value, but also because she had nowhere else to go.
Ryker became aware that he was muttering to himself under his breath. Bad habit. But an indication of his awareness that he could be committing professional suicide. So be it. He’d made the decision and he’d live with the consequences. He drove on autopilot, and that infallible inner mechanism took him back to Valerie Lin’s house in Sea Cliff district. During the long journey-it seemed to take hours — he replayed what she’d said to him when she called him at the hospital. She’d wanted to talk to him. Why? Then she’d abruptly changed her mind. Why? Those questions refused to be ignored. They demanded answers, if only to quell the pounding in his ears. His pulse was racing, his mouth was dry. It wasn’t too late to turn back; wasn’t too late to avoid what would be the most embarrassing moment of his life, when he confronted one of her servants at the door and they told him Mrs. Lin would much prefer if he made an appointment instead of turning up at her home unannounced and unwelcome.
Spider would suspend him. Captain Jerko would demand his badge. The D.A. and whatever government departments wanted James Lin and his family protected from idiots like Hal Ryker would throw him in jail. What the hell was he doing here? He didn’t know. He doubted his own sanity. He kissed goodbye to his future with SFPD and walked up the driveway, up the steps, across the porch, and to the front door of a woman he could never have even if he lived a thousand lifetimes.
His finger stabbed the doorbell.
He expected the maid, or the gardener, or someone who would tell him to go away. He didn’t expect Valerie Lin to open her own door and stare at him with dark, unblinking eyes that held the key to the universe. She wore a black silk shirt with a high collar. An ivory comb secured her hair, exposing her graceful neck. Her expression and her body language gave nothing away. He wanted her to say something; she didn’t. It was up to him to dig his own grave.
“I’m sorry to trouble you,” he said.
“Are you?” Her harsh tone surprised him; he hadn’t expected that.
“If this is a bad time for you, if I’m interrupting something-”
She turned and walked along the hallway, leaving the door open. An invitation? He took it as such, stepping inside and shutting it behind him. He looked upstairs, and into adjoining rooms. No sign of anyone. Valerie Lin disappeared into the living room. He followed her, and braced himself for a tirade of histrionic shouting, a delayed reaction to his delivering the news of her husband’s death. Was this why he’d driven here? Was he obeying some subliminal instinct that knew she had to let off steam before she exploded?
In the living room she touched a button that caused the curtains to close, blocking the view of the garden and the sea beyond. Dim yellow wall lights came on automatically, illuminating the ceiling and casting a soft glow over the room. She walked to a wooden cabinet and opened its doors.
“What would you like to drink, Detective Sergeant?”
“I’m on duty. Thanks anyway, Mrs. Lin.”
“You don’t mind if I have one?”
“Help yourself.” His voice sounded rough to his own ears. He wanted to ask for some water but sensed that something was going on, something damn weird.
She opened a bottle and half-filled a tumbler glass. She added ice and lemon and a splash of something else he didn’t see. She turned to face him. She leaned back against the cabinet and folded her arms, swilling the drink in the glass. She took a sip, apparently found it to her liking, took another.
“Before my husband died, this would have been utterly unthinkable,” she said.
He wasn’t sure what “this” was so he kept his mouth shut, let her do the talking.
“Allowing a stranger into our house. A man. A white.” She swirled her drink, the ice cubes clinked. “And drinking alcohol. Shocking. Forbidden. For guests only. Never for the dutiful wife.” This time she took a mouthful, closing her eyes. “I dismissed my servants for the night. I wanted to be alone. Or thought I did. They will not leave their quarters unless I call them. Should I call them?”
Ryker shook his head, feeling helpless. “I don’t know, Mrs. Lin. Do you need them for something?”
“I need them, Detective Sergeant, to restore my sense of duty and obligation. I need them to help preserve my honor. I need them so I will remember who and what I am. My husband is dead.” She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. “My husband is dead.” She opened her eyes again, and held him spellbound with her unblinking gaze. “His ghost is doomed to walk the earth until he is avenged. He is here, watching us, listening to our conversation. He disapproves of our meeting under these circumstances. He wishes you to leave, at once.” She almost shouted the words.
Ryker didn’t know what she was drinking, but he knew it wasn’t doing her any good. He took the glass from her hand and put it down on top of the cabinet. “Take my advice, Mrs. Lin. Lay off the juice and get some sleep.”
She slapped his face with enough power to make him stagger. He hadn’t sensed the blow coming, it was totally spontaneous, unplanned, unavoidable. The side of his face felt numb.
