Yan’s eye twitched again. “What are you talking about?”
“I thought you wanted the dragon’s heart,” said Cape nonchalantly, turning toward the entrance. “I must have the wrong address.”
“Stop.”
The tone was half command, half plea, Yan still not sure how to play this. But his pants were down and there was no turning back. “You have the heart?”
Cape nodded.
“You, a-”
“-white devil?”
Yan stared at him. Cape reached into his left-hand pocket very slowly, conscious of the thug in the corner. He raised his cell phone. “I call and it’s here in five minutes.”
Yan studied Cape for a minute, then seemed to make a decision. He didn’t know how, but Cape had something he wanted, and that was enough.
“You say you have the heart, but of course you don’t have it with you,” said Yan, gesturing toward the man with no neck. “You don’t mind if Shaiming checks, do you?”
“Yes.” Cape put the phone back in his pocket. Shaiming didn’t move, waiting for a sign from Yan.
Yan spread his hands. “And if you don’t call…say you’ve been injured…or worse?”
“Then you don’t get the heart,” said Cape. “Just the cops.”
Yan clenched his jaw and nodded. Since the heart was a Triad treasure, Cape figured Yan never expected anyone involved to call the police. This was a meeting for criminals only.
“It seems we have a stalemate,” said Yan, stepping to the side and revealing the monitor directly behind him.
Cape squinted as he tried to make sense of the image. The woman on screen looked younger than Sally, but so disheveled it was hard to tell. She was sitting against a white wall, slumped to one side, her left hand wrapped in bloody gauze. Cape took a shallow breath and tasted bile.
He fought the urge to rush Yan. Keep him talking.
“I thought she was working for you,” said Cape.
“So did she.” Yan half turned to admire his handiwork, then looked at Cape with a gleam in his eye. “Can you see the clock?”
Cape had been transfixed by the image of Lin and his own inability to act, but now he saw it, a small rectangle in the corner of the screen. He recognized the gray square under it immediately. It was identical to the bomb he’d found under his car.
Yan had taken a step backward and now held something in his right hand.
“I also have a cell phone,” he said. “But it works a little differently from yours.” He held up the phone. “There’s two numbers that only I know.” He moved his thumb back and forth over the keypad. “One disarms the bomb, and the other triggers the detonator. I just input the second number, so if I push send now, well…you know the rest, detective.”
“What about the clock?”
Yan grinned. “That’s my insurance. You have-” He glanced over his shoulder. “Eighteen minutes to produce the heart, or the girl dies in a very messy explosion. But get me the heart and I’ll make the call. You can have the girl.”
“I don’t want her.” Cape kept his voice as flat as he could. He sensed Yan taking control of the situation and needed to keep him off guard. “I don’t even know her.”
Yan wasn’t buying it. “Then why are you here, detective?”
“To get rich.”
Yan hesitated, finding it hard to argue with greed. “You want money, but not the girl?”
“Are hearing problems common in your family?”
Yan’s eyes narrowed. “So you don’t care if I push this button?”
“Go ahead,” said Cape. “But after the big boom, don’t you think the cops will come? Or the fire department? Kinda hard to negotiate with those sirens blaring.”
Yan lowered the phone but held it tightly in his right hand. The image on the monitor shifted and Cape’s heart jumped, lines running across the screen for an instant before the picture returned to normal. Lin still sat there, eyes half closed, the clock now reading seventeen. Cape assumed Yan didn’t have time to set up some elaborate system, but the cell phone made him nervous. Lin might not even be in this building.
Yan’s back was to the monitor. “What do you want?”
“Lots and lots of money,” said Cape. “I thought I’d keep it simple.”
“How much?”
“What’s it worth to you?” asked Cape. “You’re obviously willing to kill for it, so it must be valuable. To me it’s just a lump of green stone.”
“You’re an ignorant fool, detective.”
“Is that why you tried to kill me?”
Yan smiled, the cat completely out of the bag now. “How did you know it was me and not Freddie Wang?”
“I didn’t, until just now.”
Yan studied him but remained silent.
Cape said, “I found a dead body and bomb behind my car, but Freddie could have killed me inside his restaurant.”
“Then why did you leave the body outside my office?” asked Yan.
“I don’t know,” said Cape, shrugging. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“That’s it?”
“To be honest, I thought it might stir things up, make you take an interest.”
“You never suspected me?”
Cape shook his head. “Not until the body disappeared,” he said. “But when you told me to check out the cargo on the ship, that made me wonder.”
“I read the police arrested Michael Long,” said Yan.
“A failed jeans designer masterminded a human smuggling operation?” Cape frowned.
“The authorities seem satisfied.”
“I showed Long a picture of your dead thug,” said Cape. “It scared the hell out of him. The cops don’t know that.”
Yan blinked several times. “You’re not as stupid as you look, detective.”
“It’s the broken nose,” said Cape. “Throws them off every time.”
“So what do you want?”
“I already told you,” said Cape, stealing another glance at the monitor. Ten minutes.
“A million dollars,” offered Yan.
Cape coughed.
“Not enough?”
“I was thinking at least five,” said Cape.
Yan started to raise the cell phone. “Let’s say I believe you don’t care about the girl,” he said slowly. “That’s still a lot of money-what makes you think I have it?”
“I figure I’ll need to disappear,” said Cape. “Especially if you push that button. You know, change my name, get a new identity…the whole Joan Rivers treatment. Maybe even get my nose fixed.”
Yan was watching him very closely now.
“What did it cost when you did it?”
Yan’s jaw dropped.
“Want me to guess your real name?” asked Cape. “I already know it’s not Rumplestiltskin.”
“Who are you?”
“That’s not the question,” said Cape. “Who are you?”
Yan’s voice was defiant. “I’m Harold Yan, the next mayor of San Francisco.”
“Liar,” said Cape.
“President of the Chinese Merchants Benevolent Association.”
“Criminal.”
“Respected member of the City Council.”
“Murderer.”
“Mayor of Chinatown.”
“Moron.”
Yan took a step forward but stopped, his eyes burning holes in Cape. He started to say something but Cape cut him off.
“You were the worthless son of a Triad leader,” he said. “You betrayed your father, then faked your own death to come here.”
Yan’s shoulders slumped as he listened, but his eyes remained hard. His nostrils flared when Cape spoke again.
“Your name is Wen,” said Cape. “Zhang Wen.”
Chapter Fifty-nine
“Zhang Wen.”
Sally had bellowed with rage when she first heard the name.
When Cape said it during their run through the tunnels, Xan had to restrain Sally from running ahead. After a furious exchange in Cantonese, Xan released her. But judging by the expression on his face and the vein pulsing on his forehead, it took all Xan’s self-control not to sprint down the tunnels himself. Cape didn’t ask what had been said, but when Sally told him how she knew Wen, he said, “We don’t have to stick with the plan.”