He had no plan to shoot anybody right then. The gun with the muffler on it was buried in the garbage. Because he was a forgiving person, he pushed his bad thoughts about Tang away. He knew he would never in a million years hurt Tang. He just wanted to be near her and change her mind. He was good at changing people's minds, never stayed in trouble for long. He'd changed Billy's mind, hadn't he? The closer Kim got to Tang's house the stronger was his idea that if he had a chance to talk to Tang, she'd change her mind. He'd get his job back and they'd still be friends. That was all he wanted.
Sixty-one
A
pril dialed Tang's private line at her office and was not surprised to hear her assistant say, "She's gone for the day."
"When did she leave?" April asked, relieved that anybody was there so late.
"Who's calling?"
"Sergeant Woo, police department. I was there this morning."
"Oh, yes, Miss Woo. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"I need to reach Miss Ling; it's very urgent." She had to find Ching and send her out of harm's way.
"Um. Miss Ling left the building a few minutes ago.
"In a car?"
"No, no, it's only a few blocks. She always walks home."
"What route does she take?"
The woman hesitated. "Oh, I'm sure you can reach her at home in half an hour."
"Well, that might be too late. Are you sure she's on her way home?" April asked.
"Well, I think so. Is something wrong? You could call on her cell phone." The woman gave her the number.
"Okay, good. Thanks." April jotted it down.
"You know where the house is?" she asked, suddenly helpful.
"Yes. I know where the house is." April ended the call. "Tang is walking home," she told Mike.
Then she dialed Tang's cell number. It was turned off, so she left a message. Didn't important people like Tang Ling always keep their cell phones on? she wondered. Where was Ching? She was getting panicked.
"Shit." Mike had taken the Sixty-sixth Street cross-town, and now they were caught in the Lincoln Center traffic. He hit the siren and waited only a second before barreling through a red light at Lexington and bucking the oncoming traffic. A bus almost hit them, and the female driver gave them a horrified look as she jammed on the brakes.
April's stomach lurched as he kept going. She was in the death seat, her window open, perspiring heavily into the suit she'd worn for her visit to Tang Ling. Now she wished she'd never heard the woman's name. The cooling wind hit her in the face. Finally the temperature was dropping. April braced herself, thinking about Tang's town house on Seventy-first Street. Between Park and Madison Avenues, had a garage and a swimming pool.
She tried Tang's home number. Voice mail picked up on the first ring. April left another message. "The line's busy. She may be home already," she said.
"Hold on." Mike plowed through all six lanes of Park and turned up Madison. There was still a lot of life on the avenue. The ritzy crowd that lived there was walking home, walking out to dinner. Walking and turning to see what the noise was about.
"Let's not scare the horses," April murmured.
Mike turned the siren off, and she scanned the street, searching the pedestrians for a solo walker, a good-looking Filipino with a sweet face, just in case....
They passed Tang's shop. At quarter to nine everything was shut tight. The lights on Madison illuminated dazzling clothes and accessories in boutiques only the very wealthy could afford. Once again April wanted out of the car. She wanted to run. For days she'd been wanting to run. Run and catch the killer. Knock him into hell. She didn't see Tang striding along in her Armani suit.
Mike cruised slowly past Seventy-first Street. Yves Saint Laurent was on the southeast corner. On the far side of the street was St. James. As they passed it, April saw that several homeless were camping on the front steps. No sign of Tang or Kim. Mike turned on Seventy-second Street. Ralph Lauren one corner. Around the block on Park he ran a light. April held her breath. Still nothing. They cruised down Park, then turned on Seventy-first Street with the light. It was a quiet street. As they headed back toward Madison, April could see the AA sign out on the side church door, indicating a meeting in progress. No one was outside.
Opposite the church, the town houses were grand. Tang's house was the grandest and widest of all. April detached her seat belt and scanned the area around the church. The west side of Madison on Seventy-first Street had its shady patches. Click. She scanned the dark areas back to the church where homeless were allowed to sleep on the steps and dozens of people were inside at an eight P.M. AA meedng. This was a perfect spot for a stranger. April's eyes went back to Tang's house, then ran east to Park Avenue. Two doormen, one on each side of the street, came out of their doors. One lit a cigarette. She had no sense of Kim's presence there. Maybe Clio, who knew Kim best, was wrong about him. Maybe he wasn't going to hide under Tang's skirt.
"I don't think he's out here," she murmured, trying to calm down. Mike slowed to a crawl.
"Cuidado,"
he warned as he pulled into the space in front of the garage door where the yellow sign said NO PARKING ANYTIME.
Upstairs on the second door of Tang's house the lights were on. April opened her door. Mike put a hand on her arm. "I'm going," he said.
"She doesn't know you," April protested. She knew what he was thinking. She wasn't wearing a vest; her powder blue suit made her a perfect target. Too bad. She was going anyway. They were out of the car and moving at the same dme.
April was troubled by the dark public spaces in the church behind her directly across the narrow side street. Homeless on the corner. What to check drst, the house or the church?
But okay. Fine, they'd go in together. Mike nodded and chose the house. April moved first; he took a position behind her. There was no stoop. The front door was at street level. A security camera hung from above. April rang the bell. Almost instantly someone spoke through the intercom.
"Yes?"
"Lieutenant Sanchez, Sergeant Woo to see Miss Tang."
"She's out to dinner." "Where?"
"May I see your ID?"
April showed her gold shield to the camera. "She's at Willow Restaurant, on Lexington Avenue." She gulped. Okay, that's where Ching was. "Let's
go"
Sixty-two
K
im walked up Lexington Avenue. He walked so slowly it got dark outside long before he reached Seventy-first Street. At first he started looking in windows, jewelry store windows especially, moving his feet along in their new Italian shoes. He thought of the ring he'd bought Clio when they got married, the bracelets and the earrings. A real diamond and real gold to make her happy. He was good to her. But she was not good to him. Angry all the time. He didn't like that.
After a while he lost interest in stores and studied his shoes. Kim's new shoes had soles that were so thin he could feel every bump on the sidewalk. They were beautiful, but thin. His head drooped and he started feeling bad about the shoes and all the things he did for other people and the poor way they repaid him for his kindness.
It was not so far from Forty-second Street to Seventy-first Street, but Kim was not just walking up Lexington; he was walking through his whole life. By the time he reached Seventieth Street he was feeling so uncomfortable in his skin he wanted to break right out of it. Burst open and do something. Nothing he'd done yet had worked to make his life okay. Nothing was enough. Everything felt too tight inside him, and he didn't know what to do to make his skin fit again. He had no home, no job. His heart hurt and he thought it wasn't fair that people did so many bad things and only he should suffer, only he be singled out for punishment.