Shadow Harvest (A Sydney Rye Mystery, #7) Page 9

  "I don't want to hurt you," I called into the night. "We want to find Bai's killer," I said, guessing this kid was on her side. They shared a youthful grace and preference for rooftops. "My friend is missing," I yelled. "I need your help."

  Nothing. I was walking in the center of the roof, swiveling my gaze, hoping to catch sight of the kid but he was gone. I turned back to the fire escape and was just about to step off the roof when I heard footsteps behind me, quiet and quick. I turned fast, the boy was right there. A knife flashed in the dull light, headed straight for my gut.

  I blocked him, the knife slicing across my forearm. The cut didn't hurt, but I felt a warm ooze of blood. The boy came again but I was ready this time and grabbed his wrist, turning my back and twisting so that the knife was in front of me, my back against his chest. His body was light, slim. I pulled back on his thumb and heard it pop from its socket as he screamed into my ear.

  The knife dropped to the roof and I raised his arm, twisting again so that I was facing him before putting pressure on the broken thumb. He fell to his knees in front of me.

  I knocked off his hood and stared down into a face twisted with pain. "Who are you?" I demanded. He didn't answer. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "Answer me," I said, pushing on the dislocated thumb so that he cried out.

  The knife was under my foot but I saw his red eyes light on it. "Don't think about it kid, I'm so beyond you. Now tell me your name."

  He looked up at me. The boy was young. Maybe not even eighteen. His straight, black hair was cut into a bowl shape, like a little boy. His eyes were dark, black in the night. "Just kill me," he said, his English accented but clear even choked with tears.

  I laughed. "I'm not going to kill you. I need you for information." That's when I realized I should get off the roof. The last kid I confronted up here got shot. "We better get down," I said, looking over at the building where the shot came from. "I want you alive, kid."

  "You do?"

  "Yes. If I let go do you promise not to run?"

  He nodded and I dropped his injured hand. He clutched it to his chest. "Come on, don't worry, I can get your thumb back in for you." I picked up the knife and gestured toward the fire escape. He stood, still holding onto his hand. It was slow going down the steps, he was dragging his ass. Afraid? Just a sullen teen? I couldn't tell. Then Blue barked and the boy flinched. "He won't hurt you," I promised. "Unless I tell him to."

  When we reached the ladder the boy kicked a latch and the thing dropped to the sidewalk. Blue jumped up onto it, his front paws resting on the fifth bar up, his tongue lolling out of his head. "Down," I called to him. He stepped back and lowered his butt to the sidewalk, but kept his eyes glued on me and the boy as we descended.

  #

  Back on the ground I pulled the boy's thumb back into its socket. He went pale and I thought for a second he was going to pass out, but he managed to make it back to Loki’s apartment where I gave him a bag of ice to hold against the swollen joint. He sat at the bar in the kitchen, holding the pack against his injured hand and frowning. "You were friends with Sing Bai?" I asked.

  He didn't answer. I sighed. Mitchel, who'd been up the ladder pulling down what he told me was a video camera, placed the small device in front of the boy. "Did you put this there? Or was it Bai?"

  When he didn't answer I poured him a glass of water and put it in front of him. "My friend is missing."

  "Mine's dead," he shot back.

  "I understand. I'm hoping mine is still alive. He was last seen going into Sing's building. If you have footage from that video I'd really love to see it."

  The boy looked at the small camera but didn't respond.

  "Have you seen the footage?" No answer. "My friend, his name is Merl, he has three dogs. Doberman Pinchers." I saw a flicker of recognition on the boy's face but he didn't speak. "Big black dogs, sleek and strong. To take him and his dogs would be a pretty nifty trick."

  "What makes you think he was taken?" the boy asked, looking up at me, his eyes clear now, the tears from earlier gone.

  "It's either that or he's dead."

  "Maybe he doesn't want to be your friend anymore."

  "What makes you say that?"

  He shrugged. "You don't seem very nice."

  "Hey, I didn't stab you," I said. "I coulda stabbed you."

  Mitchel elbowed me and I stepped away. "This is sophisticated stuff," Mitchel said. "You set it up yourself. Or was it Bai?"

  "We did it together," the kid admitted.

  "You were friends?"

  "Best friends."

  "Did you wipe her computer?"

  He looked up at Mitchel. "You have her computer?"

  "Yes."

  "Give it to me." The boy stood up, his shoulders set into a strong line, tension racing through his body.

  "It's gone now," I said.

  His eyes jumped to me.

  "Someone wiped it."

  He titled his chin up and narrowed his eyes.

  "You know anything about that?" He didn't answer. "What's your name?" I asked again.

  The boy frowned and didn't answer.

  I felt impatience zinging through me. This kid knew stuff about Merl. He could very well know where he was and he was acting like a little shit. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down but I wanted to grab the kid by the hair and scream into his face. Instead I smiled at him. "Look, you tell me everything you know about my friend and I'll tell you everything I know about Bai's death. We can share info, be friendly."

  "I'm not your friend."

  "Well, I don't see why not."

  He held up his thumb.

  "You came at me with a knife first."

  "I thought you killed Bai, for all I know you might have done it."

  "Well, I didn't. That was a sharpshooter. I'm a pretty good shot but I'm not a marksman. Besides, I was on the roof with her." The boy sat back down, placing his injured hand on the counter. He reached for the water I'd put in front of him and took a couple of big gulps. "I want to help find her killer," I said. "I don't like seeing innocent people get hurt."

  "What makes you think she was innocent?" the boy asked, looking up at me, his eyes hard, angry.

  "Wasn't she?"

  He tilted his chin up, defiant. "We were fighting for what we believed in."

  "So you did work together," Mitch said. "Are there others in your crew?"

  "I'm not a rat."

  "Fine," I said. "We don't actually care about your crew. What I care about is finding her killer, finding Merl, and that's about the extent of it."

  "You don't understand how much bigger this is than that."

  "Explain it to me then."

  He shook his head. "You couldn't understand."

  "Try me."

  The boy stood up again. "Am I a captive?"

  "Yes," I answered in the same moment that Mitchel answered "No."

  "Then I'm leaving."

  "It's not safe."

  "And you're going to keep me safe? Like you kept Bai safe."

  I shook my head. "You want to take this on alone. You don't want my help, here," I threw his knife onto the counter. "Good luck, kid." He went to pick up the knife and I leaned forward quickly, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling his face close to mine. "But if I find out you know where Merl is, that you had anything to do with his disappearance, dying will be your greatest wish."

  His face went a little paler but his mouth set into a grim line. "You don't scare me," he said. "I've seen much worse than you."

  "You don't know me, baby face." I pushed him away. He turned to leave and I tried one more time. "I'll pay you." He didn't turn around. "Show me the footage of Merl entering the house. Give me all the info you have and I'll pay you whatever you want."

  The boy stopped, looked around the plush apartment. "You can use it for whatever you want. To keep fighting for whatever it is you and Bai were fighting for, to get the hell out of here, go live on an island somewhere."

  T
he boy looked at me. "How would I leave? This is China, you can't just leave."

  "Is that what you want?" I asked. "You want to leave? That I can do. In fact, I can probably offer you a job on an island somewhere."

  Mitchel looked over at me, his eyebrows raised.

  "Really?" the boy asked, taking a step back toward me.

  "Mitch, tell him."

  "Yeah," he said. "For sure, we can get you out of here. You give us that footage and we'll have you out of the country in no time."

  "What about my family?"

  "How many people?"

  "Just my mother."

  "Maybe, I'd have to make some phone calls."

  "You're American?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  He chewed on his lower lip.

  "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

  "What do you think I'm going to do?"

  "Kill me after you get the information."

  "I won't. Trust me."

  "Who are you?"

  "Sydney Rye. We're from Joyful Justice."

  His eyes narrowed, as he appraised us anew. "Joyful Justice."

  "You've heard of us?"

  He nodded.

  "Well, you want to come work for us?"

  "How do I know you are who you say you are?"

  "You don't. The same way I don't know that you aren’t actually the person who killed Bai." He opened his mouth to protest but I cut him off. "I don't think that because my gut says you were her friend. What does your gut say? Do I look like I'm working for whoever you're fighting against? Or do I look like I'm one of the leaders of an international vigilante network that helps victims of exploitation?"

  His gaze ran over my worn jeans, leather jacket, scarred face, and settled on my gun metal grey eyes.

  "Let's talk about my friend Merl," I said.

  "I need a computer."

  Mitchel went upstairs and came down with a laptop that he put in front of the boy. Typing with his one good hand he began to navigate, Mitchel looking over his shoulder. "Interesting," Mitchel said, nodding.

  "What?" I asked.

  Mitchel looked up at me and smiled. "Tech stuff."

  I put my hands up. "Okay," I said, smiling. "Never mind."

  More typing and then the boy motioned me over. "Here, this is your friend."

  Looking at the screen I saw a video of Sing's block. Merl was about ten feet past the camera, his back to the lens, but still unmistakable with his long, black ponytail of tight curls. He wore a black T-shirt and pants, which looked dark gray in the black and white cctv footage, that were tucked into his ankle-height boots. They were the same style of boot I had on my feet at that moment.

  Merl was flanked by his three dogs. Michael, the largest of his pack was on Merl's right side, Chula, the youngest behind Michael. Lucy, Merl's bitch and the smartest dog he'd ever known, was on his left. They moved as one unit down the block. The people they passed turned to stare after them.

  Merl reached Sing's building and knocked on the door leading to the apartments. It opened a moment later and he disappeared inside. "Yes," I said, "that's my friend." I struggled to keep my voice even. A mix of excitement at this breakthrough and a worry in my gut pushed hormones into my system. I stepped away from the computer and paced behind Mitchel and the boy, trying to release some of the energy bundling up inside of me. Blue touched his nose to my hip as I paced, keeping even with my stride, ready to follow me anywhere, even just back and forth across a living room.

  "When was that?" I asked.

  "Five days ago," the boy said.

  "Is there footage of him leaving?"

  The boy scrolled through the video, fast forwarding it. The sun set, traffic passed, the stores closed, darkness fell, the street became quiet.

  And then the day started over again and the cycle of life on the quiet Shanghai street repeated. No one went in or out of the building through the main entrance until Loki, Mitchel, and I showed up days later.

  "Okay, who else was living there?" I asked.

  The boy sat back. "Sing, his apprentices."

  "Tell me about them."

  "They are all good men. Friendly, serious about their work."

  "Why would Sing disappear? Why were you surveilling them?"

  The boy chewed on his lip. "Bai never really talked about it."

  "Well, what were you two working on?"

  He stared at me, as if trying to measure my trustworthiness. I held his gaze. He chewed on his lip for a moment and then seemed to make a decision, a small nod of his head, a softening of the eyes. "Organ harvesting," he said, holding my gaze.

  I grimaced. "That sounds gruesome."

  "It is," the boy said, his eyes flashing with anger. "My father was killed."

  "By who?" I asked.

  "The government. My father was a dissident. He was taken to a prison camp where he died. My mother was told he died of a heart attack while working, but we never saw the body."

  "How do you know what happened to him then?"

  "Bai helped me." He looked at the computer "We found a book, one published in the United States, it had evidence that organ harvesting was taking place at the prison camp my father was sent to."

  "So, what can be done?"

  The boy shook his head. "Bai thought that exposing the truth would help, but—," he shrugged. "It is known, there are books on the topic. The Falun Gong are exposing it at every turn," he looked up at me. "And still it continues."

  I thought of Anita and the limited power of the media. She called it compassion fatigue. People could only care so much. And once they were done worrying about their families and their friends—and periodically the victims of headline-grabbing disaster like a major earthquake or tsunami—there wasn't much left for a Chinese dissident whose organs were sold on the black market.

  "I'm sorry," I said, the words weak and useless. The boy didn't bother to answer. "Do you know why Bai's father and Sing weren't talking?"

  The boy nodded. "Falun Gong," he said.

  "What do you mean? What about it?"

  "Sing was a practitioner, his son thought it was far too dangerous so wanted nothing to do with him."

  "What about Bai, was she very close to her grandfather?"

  The boy shook his head. "No, she was not religious. However, she believed strongly in the right of her grandfather to practice his religion without persecution."

  I began to pace again. "Okay, so let's think here for a moment. Sing is selling exquisitely-crafted swords, obviously a profitable business."

  The boy nodded. "Yes, he did very well."

  "But at the same time he's trying to fly under the radar because of his Falun Gong connections. Why the security? He must have been organizing or something, right?" I asked, turning to the boy.

  "Bai said she wanted to make sure that her grandfather had protection, in case someone tried to steal from him."

  "Did you believe her?"

  "I thought maybe there was something more to it."

  "She wouldn't tell you."

  "Maybe not."

  "But you were best friends."

  "She might have thought she was protecting me," he ventured, his voice low.

  "Okay, so," I paced around the room. "We know Merl went there, we know there was some kind of threat against Sing, something that made Bai want to keep an eye on things." I turned to the boy. "She didn't use the front door on the day we saw her."

  "She usually came up the fire escape."

  "Why?"

  "It was how she always did it."

  "Why?"

  The boy shrugged. "She said it was more fun."

  "But when she was running away from me she went up, not back down."

  "She was probably headed for a different fire escape."

  I started my pacing again. Blue touched his nose to my hip. I looked down at him and then out the window. It was starting to get light. I needed to get some sleep if I wanted to be functioning properly for my trip to the tai chi cent
er.

  "I think we should call it a night," I said. "Since it's morning, you should stay here," I said to the boy.

  "My mother will worry."

  "You can call her."

  He nodded. I looked over at Mitchel. He was sitting on a barstool next to the boy, watching me, waiting for my next move. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Pulling it out I saw Dan was calling and walked out of the room for some privacy.

  "Hey," I said. "What did you find out?"

  "Not much, I asked around my contacts and no one had heard of Bai but that's not unusual, I mean she would have used an alias."

  "Hold on a second." I walked back into the other room. "What was Bai's alias? Her handle?" I asked the boy.

  "UglyLlama," he answered.

  "Really?"

  Mitchel nodded. "That's sounds about right."

  "Okay, UglyLlama," I told Dan.

  "That's helpful, who told you that?" I left the room again, wandering down the hall as I explained about the boy. "Well, that's a great lead," Dan replied when I was done.

  "Yeah, I'm headed out to the tai chi center tomorrow with Loki."

  "Be very careful," Dan said. "You know Falun Gong uses Qigong a lot, which is very similar to tai chi. I would be very careful, that center might be under People's Liberation Army rule."

  "I didn't know that. Mitchel said it was a form of Buddhism. But he admitted to not being expert."

  "Yeah, it's based on Buddhist principles but there is a lot of Qigong, and as Bai's friend told you, the Communist Party of China is not messing around when it comes to ending all trace of Falun Gong."

  "I'll be careful."

  "I'll get back to you, now that I have Bai's handle I should be able to get a lot more info."

  We hung up and I went back into the kitchen area. Mitchel and the boy were both looking very sleepy. "You should stay here," I told the boy. “Mitchel, tomorrow you can work with Dan to get him and his mom out of here."

  Mitchel nodded. "I noticed some extra bedding in my room," he said. "I'll grab him sheets for the couch."

  I nodded before heading up to my room. Stripping off my clothing I climbed into the bed and tried to quiet my mind. Images of prison camps and of organs, red and bloodied and expensive, roamed through my head.