Murder in Hell's Kitchen Page 27

  She heard him suck in his breath. “You got an abortion,” he said.

  “I didn’t.”

  “It’s what we agreed on, Jane. It’s what I paid for. You may have had a child, but I didn’t.”

  The remark stung.

  “What’s happened?” he asked.

  “I got a letter from her last month,” she said, her voice lower. “I gave her up for adoption. She wants to know who her parents are.”

  “I’m not her parent. I am anonymous, and don’t think for a minute—”

  “It’s OK; I won’t tell her.”

  “It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that this is out of the blue. I have a family. It would be very hard. I’m not sure I could handle it.” His voice softened.

  “I’ll handle it,” she said. “Thanks for seeing me.” She got up and walked to the coat closet. Her hand brushed against the navy-blue coat hanging next to hers and she knew it was cashmere. She took out her own coat and slipped it on before he had a chance to be polite.

  “I’m sorry, Jane. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “I understand. Good-bye, Paul.” She opened the door and walked on the carpet, then onto the vinyl tiles and down the hall. The elevator came and carried her swiftly to the ground floor. Out on Sixth Avenue she turned toward Forty-seventh Street and the subway. At Thirty-fourth she changed for the Broadway line and took it down to City Hall.

  It was all about freckles, she thought. Paul no longer saw them, but Hack did even though they were gone. She would love Hack forever, not that she’d ever had any doubts about that.

  32

  THERE WAS A message at Centre Street that Mike Fromm had called. He had not been able to reach the aunt by telephone and he had sent a uniform out to her house. So far nothing else.

  Jane and Defino walked around to Walker Street.

  “You OK?” Defino asked between puffs.

  “I’m fine. Do I look as if I’m not?”

  “You look a little spacey.”

  She grinned. “I’ll try to focus. You’re right. I’m in ten different places.”

  They reached the building where Chong Wang lived and went inside. A uniform was in the ground-floor shop, chatting with the rotund Eddie. No one had come or gone from the apartment upstairs since yesterday. The uniform gave them a key that the landlord had contributed.

  The key worked perfectly and they went inside. It was a grubby place to live, paint peeling, stains on the plaster from the indiscretions of someone above, dust balls where no one walked. The bed was unmade and the sheets dirty. Defino slipped on a pair of latex gloves. In the closet was a cache of guns.

  He whistled. “He’s got everything here, big, small, you name it. And enough ammo to annihilate New York south of Canal Street. This guy’s a serious shooter, and judging by the type and caliber here, very experienced. The guys in Ballistics are gonna have a field day testing these.”

  “We’ll need to call to have this stuff picked up. But it has to be done very discreetly. No media. If he doesn’t know we’re onto him, let’s keep it that way.”

  “Look at this.” Defino had the closet door open. “Men’s clothes and women’s. These could belong to the Dean woman.”

  Jane went to look. “You’re right. They’re the same size.”

  “But they’re different. There are party dresses here, skirts. She must have come down here to change. And look at this.” He pushed a couple of boxes out of the closet.

  Jane opened them. “Wigs. My God, she had a whole wardrobe of them. Here’s a blond one; here’s gray. And here’s an empty box. This is the one she was wearing when she took off.”

  “What did she do down here?” Defino said.

  “Meet people like Soderberg. Maybe kill them if they didn’t deliver. You meet a small woman, you’re off guard.”

  “Wang’s stuff is mostly black, too. Including ski masks.”

  “The man who shot the cop in Omaha and made off with Hutchins wore a ski mask.”

  “OK, let’s see what we can put together for Forensics.”

  Jane went through the drawers and came up with nothing. Defino took a few items for prints. The weapons would be unloaded, inventoried, and then picked up. The uniform said he would stay till everything was taken. Now it was time for another talk with Eddie.

  “You’re back,” Eddie said. “You taking up residence?”

  “Not yet,” Defino said. “Besides Mr. Wang, anyone else go up to that apartment that you would recognize?”

  “Hard to say. People go up and down; I don’t really know where they’re going. There’s a woman though. I sometimes see her with the Chinese guy.”

  “What’s she look like?”

  “Not too big. Usually has a knapsack on her back like a hiker.”

  “What does she wear?”

  “I don’t look too close. Pants usually. Kinda casual.”

  “Would you know her if you saw her?”

  “Eh. I don’t know. I never looked too close.”

  Defino gave him his card with the usual spiel.

  “I don’t know what I could think of I haven’t told you already.”

  “Maybe you’ll have a dream.”

  Jane and Defino returned to Centre Street.

  There was a message from Omaha that Hutchins’s aunt still wasn’t home but they would keep looking. Hutchins was starting to come around now, remaining awake for longer periods, and the doctors were optimistic that he might make it.

  “But where’s the aunt?” Defino said, putting the message down.

  “Dean could have a gray wig,” Jane said. “She could have the kind of clothes everybody’s elderly aunt wears. I hope they know what they’re doing there.”

  “You guys have a minute?” MacHovec said, putting down the phone.

  “Sure thing. What’ve you got?”

  “I’ve been checking out everyone in the offices at One PP. I can’t tell you I’ve cleared people, but the ones I like for this are in Inspector Hackett’s office.”

  “Where the Chinese girl works?”

  “Yeah, she’s the one. But there’s a cop in that office, not Chinese, that’s giving me goose bumps. Lotta time off, that kind of thing. And Inspector Hackett. You know he took a trip to China a year and a half, two years ago? Went on some kind of exchange program to help the police set up a detective unit.”

  Jane remembered. He had been gone two weeks and he had taken his wife, the first time she had ever left the country. Afterward, he gave Jane a beautiful piece of jade that she wore on a gold chain. “Sounds pretty routine,” she said.

  “Yeah, but how many people do you know who’ve been to China and had the opportunity to talk to big, important people? Someone could’ve sat down with him while they were drinking that stuff that goes to your head, and maybe he made some kind of deal.”

  “I like it,” Defino said.

  Jane didn’t, but she couldn’t say anything. “The cop in his office, the one that’s giving you goose bumps, did he go to China with Hackett?”

  “Good question. Lemme see if I can find out. The whip wants to see us. Time for an update.”

  “There goes the rest of the day,” Defino said. “Not that there’s much left.”

  They went to Graves’s office. MacHovec kept quiet about Hack, but they talked about everything else. Graves asked especially about the missing aunt in Omaha. Would Cory Blanding recognize Hutchins’s aunt? Jane didn’t know. And if the aunt came to visit during the day when Cory was working, if she had the right ID to show the cop outside the hospital room, who would know whether she was the real thing or an impostor?

  “You better alert them, Jane. Hutchins may not be of any more use to us, but let’s keep the poor guy alive.”

  “Right.”

  MacHovec dashed for the door when the meeting was over, and Defino wasn’t far behind. Jane called Mike and sketched out their concerns. The aunt hadn’t shown up today and still wasn’t at home. If and when she came to the hos
pital, they would detain her.

  She called her father then, telling him nothing about her work and doing a lot of listening. When she got off the phone and looked out the window, it was dark out, streetlights on, headlights blazing. She lingered at the window a moment, noticing raindrops on the pane, then got her coat. As she started out the door into the conference area, a phone rang behind her. She went to see if it was hers. It wasn’t. It was Defino’s. She hesitated, then picked it up, something she didn’t usually do.

  “Detective Bauer.”

  “Oh, it’s you. This is Eddie on Walker Street. How’re you doin’?”

  She kept her irritation to herself. “Do you have something for me, Eddie?”

  “Yeah, I think so. I think that Chinese guy came back.”

  “Did you see him?”

  “Not exactly. But the bike’s gone. Remember there was a bike chained to the rack in the vestibule?”

  She shook her head, her emotions flip-flopping. “We took that bike, Eddie.”

  “What? The cops?”

  “Forensics is looking at it.”

  “Oh. Gee, I’m sorry I bothered you. You got the other thing, too?”

  “What other thing?”

  “That folded-up thing that’s usually chained to the rack, too. I don’t know what it was. Something with wheels, I think.”

  “I don’t know what thing you’re talking about, Eddie. There was only a bike there when we came.”

  “Oh. Well, now I think of it, maybe that’s been gone for a while. I don’t usually go out that way anyway. I use the door to the street.” The way his shop was arranged, he had access to the vestibule along the side and to the street in the front. “I’m sorry I bothered you. I never saw the cops take the bike away. I must’ve been over in the other part of the store when they came.”

  “That’s OK. I’m glad you called. If you think of anything else, or if you see anyone, please give us a call.”

  “Sure thing.”

  She made a note to tell Defino about the call. At least Eddie was thinking. She started to leave again. The place was empty even though it wasn’t very late. The elevator came and she went downstairs. Outside there was a sudden downpour, people with umbrellas dodging other umbrellas, people without them hurrying for cover, holding soggy newspapers over their heads. She leaned against the wall near the door, hoping it would let up long enough for her to get to the subway. There was a crack of thunder followed by lightning, and a woman nearby yelped. In weather like this finding an empty cab was a dream. She would either have to wait it out or make a run for the subway, which would surely leave her soaked to the skin.

  She moved away from the tense crowd near the doors. In her pocket was the little cell phone she had barely used. She could call Hack and ask him if anyone in his office had gone to China with him. He would still be there; he rarely left early.

  She took out the phone, turned it on, tapped the ten digits of his cell phone, and then abruptly hung up. It was an excuse to call him. If the suspect cop had gone to China, MacHovec would know it tomorrow, and tomorrow was as good as tonight. She dropped the phone back in her pocket. That was what happened when she saw him again: all the good intentions, the month of not seeing him, of learning to live without him, were canceled out, as though they had never happened.

  “Look, it’s stopping,” a woman’s voice said. A handful of people applauded.

  Jane walked to the back of the crowd as they started to leave and moved with them out into the damp air. A thin drizzle was coming down, little more than a mist. At least it wasn’t below freezing; they’d be in the midst of an ice storm.

  She started for the subway, then changed her mind. What Eddie had said was nagging at her. What was “the other thing” chained to the bicycle rack? It wasn’t that much of a walk, and maybe she could coax something useful out of him.

  She turned onto Walker, thinking more about what she would eat for dinner than what she would say to Eddie. It would have to be takeout again; there was nothing edible in the apartment. When would she get herself together so that there was food waiting when she got home?

  After this case. After this case her life would change. There would be more money, better clothes, no overtime. She would cook, maybe have some friends over, if she could remember who her friends were. She smiled at her joke, stopping for a red light at the corner of Lafayette, where she felt someone jostle her. She started to turn and a man’s soft voice said, “Detective Bauer, don’t move; don’t turn; don’t say anything. I can kill you in one second, and I have no reason to keep you alive anymore.”

  She knew who it was without seeing him. He took hold of her left arm in a strong grip but stayed slightly behind her so that looking to her left she would not see his face. She felt a slight push.

  “Cross the street now.” They moved together north toward Canal Street. “Where is your gun?”

  “On my right hip.”

  “Keep your right hand where I can see it. Where’s your other gun?”

  “What other gun?”

  “Don’t be fresh with me, Bauer. Tell me where your second gun is.”

  She paused, then decided to tell the truth. “It’s on my right ankle.” Thanks to Captain Graves.

  “If you bend down to get it, I will kill you with it.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He tightened his grip and twisted her arm painfully. “Don’t be smart. Smart will get you killed.”

  “Where are we going?” They continued along Lafayette, Wang half pushing her.

  “Don’t ask any more questions.”

  She knew he had to be armed, but if he was holding her arm with his right hand, he could be holding a gun only in his left, and that would have to be in a pocket. He wouldn’t get very far holding a weapon in an exposed left hand, but he might have something else, something small and lethal that could be secreted in his fist. He hadn’t made a move to take her guns, but that could be because of the logistics. He had grabbed her left arm, maybe because there had been no room on her right side and he had been afraid of losing her or knocking over a civilian in his attempt to grab her.

  “At the corner we turn right.”

  Chinatown was little more than two blocks to the right. Damn. He might have a safe apartment there, a room that no one else would enter. He could imprison her and keep her guarded with young armed thugs. The streets were full of Chinese gangs, Ghost Shadows, White Tigers, Flying Dragons, eager to establish reputations that would further their criminal careers. The department was so concerned, they had formed a special unit nicknamed the Jade Squad. Although she would be only a few blocks from Centre Street geographically, she might as well be on the other side of the world.

  “We cross the street.” It was Centre Street.

  They dodged cars, his grip practically stopping the circulation in her arm. He maneuvered her to Baxter Street, where they took a right, then, a few seconds later, to Bayard, where they turned left and crossed the street over an invisible boundary. In moments they had left downtown New York and entered another country. The faces changed; the language changed. A woman berated her young son in the tongue of a country halfway around the world. A handsome young man walking with a beautiful girl switched from perfect English to the language of his parents. They passed a dim sum place that she had eaten in many times, but this time her mouth was dry. Two teenage boys were casually practicing tai chi on the sidewalk. She had done duty on all these streets, looking into gambling, drugs, even allegations of new immigrant women being forced into prostitution, but it didn’t help her now.

  Now no one looked at them, no one paid the least attention. She moved her right hand, trying to judge whether she could grab her gun before he killed her. The coat was buttoned down to her thighs and the gun was holstered on her hip. She would have to get her hand inside her coat and open the snap tab on the holster before she could reach her gun. And to make matters worse, she was wearing gloves.

  Placing the back of her right
hand against her right thigh, she tried to slide her hand from her glove as she walked. The glove moved a little and she continued wriggling. If she dropped the glove, she would have a better chance at grabbing the gun—not a good chance, only a better one.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “I’ll kill you if you lie to me.”

  She let her right hand hang, glove slightly off. They had passed Mulberry Street and came to Mott. He urged her across and they kept going toward Elizabeth. The Chinatown Precinct was on Elizabeth, but she knew he would avoid it. Halfway down the block he said, “Next door, we go in.”

  There was no number on the door, which was between a restaurant and a laundry. The smell of Chinese food filled the damp air, making her hungry. Keeping his head averted, Wang leaned forward, pushed open the door, and shoved her into a small vestibule with a staircase on the left wall. Inside it was dark and shabby and smelly, and there was nowhere to go but up the stairs to a filthy apartment where she would spend the last hours of her life.

  33

  HE PULLED A ski mask down over his head and pushed her toward the stairs.

  “Go up,” he ordered.

  He directed her to the third floor, where he used a key to open a door. “Inside,” he said.

  He flicked a light switch and she saw a large water bug cross the floor. Small roaches climbed up and down the walls. Jane struggled to stay calm. There were different kinds of fear in life, and although she knew that the threat of this man was much greater than all the bugs combined, they were what gave her a chill.

  “Stand where you are.”

  She was nearly in the center of the room and she stopped dead.

  “Turn toward me and show me where your guns are.”

  She obeyed him, pulling open her coat and raising her pant leg. As she did so, she looked at him for the first time. The ski mask covered his face, and he was holding a gun pointed at her. He was slim, perhaps the same height as she or slightly taller. Everything he wore was black and close-fitting. If she had to pick him out of a lineup, she would have been unable to.