“You going to find out who’s behind this?”
“Not me,” said Mitch, “though I’d like to. That’s for the feds to figure out. The INS and FBI, mostly. Me, I’m just a narcotics cop who speaks Chinese.”
Cape suspected Mitch was much more than that, but he kept the thought to himself. “What if I wanted to find them?”
Mitch smiled, his mouth a little crooked. “You have to go hunting for the snake.”
“Snake?”
“The person behind this is called a ‘snakehead,’” Mitch replied. “There’s a little snakehead and a big snakehead.”
“What’s the difference?” asked Cape.
“The little snakehead is probably in China. He or she-women are involved sometimes-arrange for the transportation and handle logistics on that end.”
“And the big snakehead?”
“That’s the one you want,” replied Mitch. “He or she is probably here, in the States. The big snakehead is the main investor-the one that fronted the money and the one that gets the big payoff. Without them, none of this would be possible.”
“You think the feds will find them?”
“Not a chance,” said Mitch, his cynicism audible. “They’ll probably find some of the handlers-the middlemen who took the money, set up the safe houses, that sort of thing. But the real power behind it…those guys are almost never caught. Too many layers between them and the actual crimes.”
“What kind of person am I looking for?”
Mitch shrugged. “Could be anybody. An anonymous businessman, a well-connected financier, or some guy you never heard of-working in the shadows. They may not even be Chinese.”
Cape’s surprise must have registered, because Mitch continued.
“The old days of Chinese-only crime are over,” he said. “Now the tongs and their gangs are in bed with the Russians, the Italian Mafia, even the Chinese government. If they can make money, they’ll call you brother-at least until they cut out your liver.”
Cape caught the edge in Mitch’s voice and gestured toward the tattoo on his arm.
“Were you in a gang?”
Mitch smiled, rubbing the back of his hand as he spoke. “Beau said you were smarter than you looked.”
“I’m even smarter than he looks,” replied Cape.
“A long time ago,” said Mitch. “The Flying Dragons in L.A. took me in, along with my younger brother. I got out before it was too late.”
Cape wanted to ask about the brother, but Mitch’s expression made it clear the subject wasn’t open for discussion.
“OK, smart guy,” said Mitch, “what else do you want to know? I should get back inside.”
“Fair enough,” said Cape. “Two more questions?”
“Shoot.”
“If you were looking for a snakehead, where would you start?”
“I’d try to find the tail,” replied Mitch. “Find someone lower on the food chain, and take it from there.”
Cape nodded; no surprise there.
“And the second?” asked Mitch.
“The people who were on the ship-what have they said about what happened onboard?”
“You mean what killed the crew?” asked Mitch.
“Don’t you mean who killed the crew?”
“Not if you ask the people who were onboard,” replied Mitch. “I’ve talked to almost forty men, women, and children, and practically every one says the same thing, with maybe two exceptions.”
“Yeah?”
“They say there were yaomo onboard,” replied Mitch. “That’s what killed the crew.”
Cape raised his eyebrows but remained silent.
“Demons,” replied Mitch. “Evil demons. They told me a demon killed those men.”
Cape frowned. “Is that the Chinese equivalent of ‘officer, I swear I didn’t see anything’?”
“That’s part of it,” Mitch replied. “It’s bad enough they got caught trying to slip into the country-these people do not want to be witnesses in a murder investigation. But remember, a lot of these people come from rural China. They can be very superstitious.”
“You said there were two exceptions,” said Cape.
Mitch nodded. “An older woman and her daughter. I think the daughter might have been raped by the crew.”
“What did they say?”
“That the crew was killed by tianbing,” replied Mitch. “A ‘heavenly soldier.’”
Cape squinted into the sun but said nothing.
“The English equivalent would probably be ‘angel,’” added Mitch, shaking his head. Cape frowned, but Mitch didn’t seem to notice, adding, “So we’re looking for someone who is part demon, part heavenly spirit-sound like anyone you know?”
“No,” said Cape, lying through his teeth for the second time that day.
Chapter Sixteen
Hong Kong, 15 years ago
“You are not thirsty,” Sally muttered to herself.
Summer in Hong Kong was a cauldron, and the girls had been training outside all morning. The noon sun beat down like a hammer, bending the air into visible waves that flowed across the packed earth of the courtyard. Sally squinted and tried to concentrate on what Master Xan was saying, his form distorted by the shimmering air.
“You have all been here five years.” His voice boomed off the walls of the enclosure as he turned and faced the perfectly straight line. Twenty girls ranging in age from nine to fourteen watched as he moved down the line, pausing to make contact with every one of them. “And soon, you must choose a path.”
Sally stuck her tongue out, trying to catch some of the sweat dripping off her brow. As she concentrated on a promising bit of moisture at the end of her nose, her eyes crossed and she momentarily forgot about Xan. The drop smacked dead center on her tongue just as she realized everything had gone very quiet, as if the girls standing next to her had stopped breathing. Looking up she saw Master Xan had reached her spot in the line, only to find Sally crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue.
Sally turned her head slowly to her right, looking to her best friend for guidance, but Jun’s eyes were twice their normal size, her eyebrows so high they practically floated above her head. Whether in shock or fear, she was useless.
Sally took a deep breath and locked eyes with Xan. With a somber expression firmly in place, she bowed her head slightly, keeping her gaze steady. Neither coy nor defiant, just respectful.
Barely eleven and Sally already understood the power in a woman’s eyes.
Xan’s scar seemed to jump even though his face didn’t move, a signal that usually meant he was angry or about to burst out laughing. Sally could never tell the difference. But today Xan merely held her gaze, his eyes boring into Sally as if he could read her mind. After a moment that seemed a lifetime, Xan nodded once and looked away, apparently satisfied with what he had seen. As Xan turned his back on the line of girls, Jun reached out and squeezed Sally’s hand tightly. Sally squeezed back and released the breath she’d been holding.
Xan pointed directly in front of him.
“At the end of this courtyard is an exit.” He gestured toward a small wooden door. “Six months from now, you may leave.”
Sally snorted under breath. And go where? All of the girls were orphans, this school the only family they’d had for five years. Most of them had never known the outside world, even as children, and certainly not the streets of Hong Kong. Sally couldn’t think of a single girl who had talked about leaving.
Xan motioned to the right and the girls turned as one, looking at a massive circular door set into the high stone wall of the inner courtyard. The door was ten feet in diameter, made of red lacquered wood elaborately carved, dragons and tigers intertwined with butterflies and cranes. The carvings became progressively more complex and dense as you neared the center of the circle, creating a sense of movement that bordered on vertigo, as if the door were some sort of vortex pulling you to the other side. At the exact center were two door handles, each one a half-circle painted black. Two Chinese characters had been carved deeply into the wood, one on each handle.