"Yes," the boy said. With the single word he revealed enough English to make communication possible.
"I was about to put out a missing person bulletin on you. Where have you been?"
Chin Soo looked sideways as though to assess the possibility of turning and running for his life. Then he accepted the fact that there was no retreat. "I stay away," he said. "I afraid. Man say to go and I go."
"I see. Who was the man who told you to go?"
Chin Soo looked at him, apparently trying to decide whether or not he was compelled to answer that. Once again the avenue of retreat was closed to him, and he had no choice but to reply. "Mr. Johnny Wu," he said.
CHAPTER 13
When Virgil Tibbs walked into his oflSce for the second time that morning there was a note on his desk: Call Mr. Wu. He had never received a message that he needed less; at that moment he had a consuming desire to speak with Johnny Wu at the earliest opportunity. He picked up his phone even before he sat down, and dialed.
He got an answer in a slightly singsong feminine voice that very politely told him that Mr. Wu was not in. He was invited to leave his name and number. He did so and hung up, his mind already reaching out to the many other things which he now had to do. He picked up a long pad of yellow ruled paper and began to jot down a series of items that were still unresolved. When he had done that he took off his coat, laid his gun on the desk, and went to work.
He first called the morgue and asked for the surgeon who had briefed him on the details of Mr. Wang's death. The doctor was in and after something of an interval he came to the telephone. Tibbs asked several questions concerning the damage to the vitality and body structure of the murder victim as a result of the strangling he had received. Presently a httle more Ught began to show. He thanked the assistant coroner for the additional information and made a note on his pad.
He was still writing when the phone rang. He picked it up with the expectation that it would be Johnny Wu, but he was greeted by the voice of Frank Lonigan on the line. 'This is very preliminary, Virgil," the federal man told him, "but unless we're completely off the track, that sample that you gave us is the stuff all right. Without a lab report that isn't conclusive, but we expect to have one in a day or two. You've got us pretty excited down here; how can we help you?"
"You just did," Tibbs answered. "For the moment, that's all that I need from your end. I have something planned for tonight that may give us a little more to go on. Would you be available tomorrow?"
"Absolutely. Call this number and they'll reach us-at any hour."
"Outstanding. If anything breaks, you'll hear from me." With that he hung up.
When he had made another note or two he called the LAPD and spoke to the lieutenant who had direct command of the Chinatown detail. From that well-informed officer he gained a number of points concerning which he had been uncertain. Among other things he asked if there had been any recent reports that had indicated new forms of activity in which the police department was interested. When he got a yes answer to that, and such information as the lieutenant had available, he felt like an old fire horse that smells smoke and knows that something in his line is definitely stirring.
His next call was to Lieutenant Olsen's office to find out if there was any report from the stakeout on the Wang home. The reply was almost entirely negative; the house-boy had been seen going to the supermarket and returning with groceries, but the officer who had followed him there had not noted anything amiss.
As soon as he had that information he put in a call to a close friend in Air Force procurement and asked for an informal readout on the Washburn company. He was promised a call back and as much data as could be safely relayed over the telephone. That was all that he required; he followed the caU with another note on his pad.
He next phoned the city attorney's office and asked for a background on Aaron Finegold. Fortunately, the man he talked to knew Finegold personally and was able to supply some information that Tibbs was most anxious to have.
After checking the next item on his pad he put in a long-distance call to the narcotics treatment center in Kentucky and requested a report on Robin Washburn. When he had properly identified himself he was connected with the doctor who had been in charge of the case. He was supplied with the few facts that he required; in addition he learned that the patient had been discharged two days previously and was presumed to have arrived at his home.
Then he remembered something very important that he had all but forgotten. He spun the dial once more and succeeded in getting Yumeko on the line. "I want you to do
something for me," he directed. "If anyone calls you on the telephone, anyone at all, I want you to let me know inmiediately, here at the office. The number is on my card. Do you still have it?"
"I have."
"Good. Be sure to do that-if I'm not here, leave a message for me. I'll get it."
"Do you wish anything else?"
"Yes, I may decide to throw a little party at your home tonight. I would like your permission for that. You might have to serve some more tea and some biscuits, but I'll pay the cost."
*There will be no cost. I can."
"Excellent. And, Yumeko, don't worry-you'll be fully protected."
"I have not worry."
"I'll probably stop in to see you this afternoon," he concluded, and then hung up. His mind was all business now, and he knew at least one thing about Yumeko that made him keep his guard up. Like so many others in this pecuhar case, she had not been entirely candid with him. People seldom were when murder was involved.
His phone rang. He picked it up once more and was gratified to hear Johnny Wu at the other end of the line. "I want to talk to you very much," Tibbs said, "and as soon as possible.'*
^That's fine with me, Virgil," Wu replied. "As a matter of fact I'm coming out to Pasadena-I want to see Yumeko Nagashima. Do you have any objection to that?"
It was a loaded question. "Of course not, why shouldn't you call on her if you want to. Is she expecting you?"
"I called her a few minutes ago."
Tibbs was furious with himself; he had carefully asked the girl to report all future calls, but he had failed to ask her about any that might have come in since he had left her. "What time is your appointment, Johnny?" he asked.
*T left it open, but I was planning to offer her lunch if she would like."
Virgil glanced at his watch. "Since there's time, would you mind stopping by here on your way? We're not hard to find."
"I'll be glad to. Say in half an hour?"
"Good. See you then."
As he hung up the instrument, Bob Nakamura came in. In contrast to his usual brisk manner he seemed thoroughly exhausted. He dropped into his chair and then carefully rubbed his face with his hands. "What news?" Virgil asked.
*They're bagged; the Feds nabbed them when they were trying to board a plane at Hollywood-Burbank. One of them made a dive for it, but aU he did was bust himself up."
"Evidence?"
"With what I've been able to get, and the others, there's enough to put them inside about six times over. They turned out to be wanted in a half a dozen other places. It's a federal rap now, so they'U be out of the way for quite a while."
"Congratulations," Tibbs said. "You must have been on that one for almost two months."
"Actually a little more than that."
*Then why don't you take the afternoon off? Then youll be fresh to go to work with me this evening."
Bob turned a look at him that would have made a stone weep. "What is it now, Virg, out on the street again?"
Tibbs shook his head. "On the contrary, I'd like you to be my guest at a little party. I don't believe that you've met any of the priucipals in my case, have you?'*