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Slow motion took over. He’s got her, thought Cape, rocking onto the balls of his feet, his legs feeling glued to the floor. No one’s that fast, not even her. He felt the heat of the gun across his fingers, the sweat in his eyes, the weight of his own heart as it tried to beat faster, but he couldn’t see past Sally to get a clear shot.

The door at the back of the room slammed open and bounced off the wall with a sound like a gunshot, so loud even Cape could hear it. All heads turned as Xan kicked the door again as it swung back at him, Lin cradled in his arms.

It took a fraction of a second for Wen to see Xan was unarmed, but it was enough. He snapped his head back toward Sally and, sensing movement, squeezed the trigger.

Sally swung the katana in a vicious arc, stepping into the cut as the blade cut through flesh, her momentum pushing the sword as her weight shifted. Wen’s head flew from his shoulders like the cork from a champagne bottle, tumbling in mid-air before landing dead center in the pile of broken fortune cookies.

Wen’s torso wobbled for an instant before crumbling, the gun clattering to the floor, a trail of smoke coming from the barrel.

Sally stood over the body, her nostrils flared and her eyes wide, the edge of her sword glistening red. She lowered the sword and turned toward Wen’s head. Taking a step closer she spat, her saliva landing right between the eyes, still open and frozen with fear.

Cape took a panicked step toward Sally but she held up her hand and he froze. Reaching beneath her shirt, Sally tugged at something between her breasts. When her right hand reemerged it held the dragon’s heart, still wrapped in cloth but with a tear across the fabric where the bullet had been deflected. Sally looked at Cape and shrugged.

Cape felt dizzy and realized he’d stopped breathing. As the ringing in his ears subsided, he turned to look at Xan, who was standing over Shaiming, turning the man’s head to one side with his foot.

“You have good timing,” said Cape.

Xan nodded, jutting his chin toward Shaiming. “You shot him?”

“I had to,” replied Cape, feeling the weight of it settle in his stomach.

“Never apologize for killing someone,” said Xan gruffly, sounding like a math teacher Cape had in the tenth grade. “Especially if they deserved it.”

Cape gestured toward Lin. “How is she?”

Both men turned as Sally crossed the factory, her attention focused on Lin. Xan squatted and sat on the floor, cradling Lin in his lap like a child. A small trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth.

He said, “She’s leaving us, little dragon.”

Sally ignored him, touching Lin’s face with her right hand.

“The bomb?” asked Cape. He hadn’t heard an explosion, but after the first gunshot he hadn’t heard much of anything.

Xan shook his head. “Disarmed. I pulled the detonator from the plastic explosive.”

Sally looked at him. “Poison?”

Xan nodded. “Wen killed her long before we arrived,” he said. “She just refused to die before you got here.”

Sally felt something stir against her hand. Lin’s eyes fluttered open, her lips coming apart with a wet crackling sound. Sally pressed her face against Lin’s, holding her head in both hands, their noses touching.

Sally’s voice was barely a whisper. Lin’s eyes rolled around before focusing on Sally. Her mouth moved in slow motion. Cape couldn’t hear what they said, but tears sprang from Sally’s eyes and fell onto Lin’s face. Cape had never seen Sally cry. After a moment he blinked, his own eyes welling up.

The three stayed there, unmoving, Sally sobbing silently, Xan watching her, Cape trying to absorb everything that just happened. It was a long time before Sally sat up and ran her hand across Lin’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, she stood and looked around the room, as if she’d forgotten where she was.

Cape touched her shoulder. “We have to leave,” he said softly.

Sally looked at him and nodded. She had stopped crying, but her eyes told him she was somewhere else.

“Do we leave them?” asked Xan, waving a hand toward Shaiming and Wen’s bodies. “Or take them to the tunnels?”

Cape caught Sally’s eye and spoke very deliberately. “If they don’t find Lin, they’ll think you were on that ship.”

Sally held his gaze but didn’t respond. It took Xan a moment but he got it, turning to Sally and saying, “He’s right, little dragon.” Then to Cape he said, “You have a plan?”

Cape’s eyes never left Sally’s as he answered.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think I do.”

Chapter Sixty-one

It was almost 7:30 in the morning by the time Cape walked into the Hall of Justice on Bryant Street. After passing through the metal detectors, he rode the elevator to the fourth floor, where Homicide Detail was located. Many of the desks were unoccupied, and the small office at the back was empty.

Vincent Mango sat behind his desk, black hair slicked back, dressed immaculately in a dark gray suit, yellow tie, and loafers. He looked more like next month’s GQ cover than a homicide detective.

Cape gave him a wave, crossed the room, and took a seat in front of the desk. He checked his watch, then nodded at Vincent.

“Where is everybody?”

Vincent looked around the room as if he hadn’t noticed. “It’s that time of day. Most of the bad shit happened already, in the middle of the night, so we got people on the street. And the bad stuff that’s gonna happen today, well, it hasn’t happened yet. Still too early in the morning.”

“Where’s Beau?” Cape jutted his chin toward the desk behind Vincent.

“Went home about two hours ago,” replied Vincent. “You know how he hates this time of day.”

Cape nodded. “I’m here to make a statement.”

“I heard,” said Vincent, turning toward his computer. “Beau told me. Said you were supposed to come in last night.”

“I fell asleep.”

Vincent turned and gave Cape a look, just for an instant, that said keep the bullshit to yourself.

Cape asked, “You want to hear it or not?”

Vincent pulled a pair of reading glasses from his jacket pocket and turned back to his computer, fingers on the keyboard.

“You’re not going to write it down?” asked Cape, motioning toward a yellow pad on the desk. “Beau always writes it down first.”

“You ever seen my handwriting?” asked Vincent. “Even I can’t read it. Besides, what do you care?”

Cape shrugged. “Curiosity.”

“Killed the fuckin’ cat,” said Vincent. “You sent us a picture of a dead guy-or a guy who looks dead-only we can’t find him. How’s that for a start?”

“OK.” Cape talked for several minutes, getting the occasional look from Vincent but otherwise without interruption. When he had finished, Vincent swiveled in his chair and took off his reading glasses.

“That’s it?” he asked. “You found a body and didn’t call?”

“My phone wasn’t working.”

“You ever hear of a pay phone?” demanded Vincent. “Or 911?”

“You know how hard it is to find a pay phone in this city?”

Vincent thought about that for a minute. “Yeah, it’s impossible. They pulled ’em all out once everybody started carryin’ cell phones.”

“Exactly,” said Cape. “How about getting a cab?”

“A taxi?” said Vincent. “Even worse-you know, the other night the wife and I were-” He caught himself and scowled at Cape. “You enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Sorry, Vinnie,” said Cape. “It’s fun to see you get worked up about these things.”

“I got Beau busting my balls all day, thanks,” said Vincent. “Him, I gotta work with. You, I could arrest if I wanted.”

Cape held up his hands. “Point taken, Detective Mango.”

“So get to it.”