He was at Seventy-third Street before he realized he'd passed Seventy-first Street. He lifted his head. He saw the street sign and realized he'd gone too far. He turned to go across Seventy-third Street. There was a restaurant on the corner. He hesitated, suddenly alert to a familiar place. He knew this was a restaurant where Tang sometimes went with her husband, with important people he recognized.
Tables were set, and people were sitting outside. He stopped to look through the window, and there Tang was! But tonight she was not with an important person. His whole body felt the shock of seeing Tang with a customer. And it was not just any customer. Tang was sitting at a table inside the restaurant with the girl who was supposed to be his next angel. Ching Ma Dong!
Kim stared at them, horribly upset that Tang was taking the time to eat with a customer. She never did that. And the worst thing was that the two women— his boss and his next angel—were smiling and laughing as if he'd never existed. They looked completely happy, as if they didn't care about all the bad things that happened to him.
Sixty-three
M
ike hurried back to the car, but April hesitated on the sidewalk, studying the street. Maybe they shouldn't move so fast. There were other choices here. That church, for one thing. Homeless on the front steps. The street was really quiet, a good place for action no one was expecting. April shivered and pulled out her phone to try Tang's cell number again. Still no answer.
"Let's go,
querida."
Mike was already back in the car.
"Right, let's be where she is."
He called for an address while she crossed the sidewalk.
"Hurry up. Get in the car. Ifs on Seventy-third Street."
Okay, okay.
Back in the car April didn't attach her seat belt. Cops had special dispensation on the job. Some cops never wore seat belts. A macho thing. Right now Mike didn't do his either. He pulled out fast, and her heartbeat accelerated with the car. Upper East Side was about as high end as New York City got, and Mike was pushing it in a part of town he didn't know. Nineteenth Precinct. The radio crackled as he wove around one-way streets. Nothing was going down. It was a quiet Monday night.
He sped north on Madison. Up on Seventy-third was another church. Homeless were gathered there, too. At Seventh-fourth the brakes squealed as he took the turn too fast and raced down the block, only to grind to a halt at Park, where four of the six lanes were moving fast.
A radio call came in. It was a nothing. Mike turned off the radio and neither said anything as they waited for the light to change. Ten thousand times every single day cops just got in cars and cruised around. Sometimes they were looking for something that hadn't even been thought of yet. Sometimes they were looking for a certain person, or a certain kind of person. Or certain activities in highly predictable locations. Sometimes you found what you were looking for, and sometimes you didn't.
April read the scene. At first there didn't seem to be much in the way of unpredictable on Lexington and Seventy-third Street. The restaurant they were looking for was a building that had once been a private house. A few tables covered with snowy tablecloths were set out on the sidewalk for spring dining, just a few for brave diners. They were decorated with candles and sweetheart roses. Five of the tables were filled.
Ching and Tang Ling were not sitting at one them. In the navy sky above the stars were coming out. It was a pleasant scene. Only one thing was out of place: Kim Simone was against the wall at the restaurant window. Mike and April both saw him at the same moment, saw the carryall over his shoulder.
"There he is. No fast moves," Mike said as he slid to a stop, double-parking on Lex before the intersection.
As if April didn't know. Adrenaline kicked in as they took a moment to observe him. Kim didn't seem to be doing anything except standing there. That was good. No one was paying him any attention. That was good, too. He wasn't nervous. The canvas carryall was hanging by its straps over his left shoulder. His back was to them, so his hands were not in view. Mike called Dispatch to give their location and to request backup.
They would take this real slow. The suspect didn't look jumpy, didn't appear to have a gun in his hand. Certainly not a rifle. They exchanged looks. Best case, they would get out of the car. They would cross the street. They would move across the sidewalk. There would be no sirens. They would not say, "Police, freeze." They would distress no diners. There would be no scene. They would get to Kim and each take a side of him. Then they would walk him quietly away from the restaurant, the diners—Tang Ling and Ching.
Mike broke the tense silence. "Did he see you today?" he asked.
"Don't know."
"Lef s take it real easy."
Okay.
Her vote was for easy. April nodded and popped open her door. Mike opened his. Then, as if he could read their minds, Kim started moving. He slowly slid down the side of the building in that narrow space between diners and building. He was walking, not a bit nervous. He didn't see them coming. He was completely cool, heading toward the door of the restaurant as if it were an everyday thing, but nothing about it was everyday to Mike and April. Kim's hand was in the bag, and he was going inside, where Ching was. April wanted to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth.
She was out of the car. She was running across the street into traffic. Horns honked as they dodged cars. People at the tables outside were startled. Kim disappeared through the door. Mike swore as April was the first to follow him in. Her hand was on her Glock. She did not want to unholster it. She did not want to have to shoot it in a crowded place. She wanted to grab the suspect and take him out quietly.
It didn't happen.
Lucky for her the light was the same inside and outside. She could see Kim moving into the restaurant. Then she saw where he was going. Tang Ling was in the back at a table for four. Ching was sitting beside her. They were drinking champagne. Between herself and Tang, the restaurant was filled with people. Diners, servers, people drinking at the bar. Lots of people. Mike was at her elbow. Kim was moving through the human traffic. Nothing stealthy about the way he was moving. April didn't see a gun. She still didn't see a gun. She thought they were all right. They were going to be all right. Mike was now ahead of her. She knew the plan.
"Excuse me, sir." Mike moved quickly toward Kim. He wanted Kim to turn around and focus away from Ching. He wanted to see if there was a gun. He wanted to take Kim's arm.
Kim turned around, surprised. "Me?"
"Do you have a reservation?" Mike asked.
Kim shook his head. "I have a friend here."
"Excuse me, watch your back." A waiter with a full tray got between them.
Kim turned away from Mike and started walking again. April was parallel to him, hurrying down the aisle between two rows of tables to get between him and Ching. She saw his hand go into the bag. She saw it come out with the gun.
"Police, freeze," she barked.
Tang Ling put her hand to her mouth and stood up. "Kim!" Ching stood up, too. She looked confused. Her body blocked Tang, but nobody blocked her.
"Get down! Down on the floor!" April screamed. She charged Kim. He raised the gun and fired at her. She felt the burn of the bullet and hit the floor, rolling between tables toward his feet. He lowered the gun to shoot her again.
Mike pushed the waiter to one side and the tray crashed to the ground. People were screaming, rising from their chairs, trying to get away. They blocked the area so Mike couldn't get through. Tang stood there, frozen with her mouth open. Then she found her voice.