“This isn’t a social call, Mrs. Lin,” Ryker said.
She dismissed the maid with the smallest of gestures. “Very well. Then let’s get down to business, shall we? What has my husband done, detective, and how much will it cost to make it go away?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’ll write you a check. Or would you prefer cash? That may have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Mrs. Lin, when did you last talk to your husband?”
“Oh, that would be, sometime in 1997, I think.” She turned her head so she was looking out the window, lost in her own thoughts. Rain clouds had gathered out in the bay and seemed to be moving closer to land. “Yes, I remember the occasion. It was his brother’s wedding. Everyone had moved out into the garden. I was having a conversation with some of the other wives. We were all so very happy to be there.” Her lips twitched. “We don’t get out much, you see. We were discussing how beautiful the bride’s dress looked when my husband pushed through the crowd and berated me for talking too much.”
The silence stretched over a dozen heartbeats. Ryker exchanged glances with Chee Wei whose eyebrow rose a millimeter. Taking a deep breath, Ryker said, “Mrs. Lin, do you happen to know where your husband was last night?”
“I have no idea. I knew he was in town but I didn’t know where. Or with whom. I realize that must sound awful. You must understand, my husband answers to no one except himself. And to his father in business matters, of course.”
“Your husband rented a suite at the Mandarin.”
“Is that a crime? He is a sophisticated man with expensive tastes.”
“He was not alone.”
“Are you determined to shame me, Detective?”
“What I am determined to do, Mrs. Lin, is find out who murdered him.”
Heavy raindrops spattered the window. The sudden clatter made her flinch visibly. Her face looked terribly pale. Water ran down the window in rivulets as she clasped her hands on her lap, the tightly clenched fingers turning white and pink with pressure. In that frozen moment of time Ryker knew beyond all shadow of doubt that Valerie Lin had not murdered her husband. The rain washed away his suspicions and replaced them with a profound sympathy that manifested itself as a desire to move to her and take her hands in his and apologize for bringing such grief to her door. His mental turmoil sent confused signals to his groin which began swelling immediately, much to his embarrassment. He wanted to laugh out loud just to gain the relief such an outpouring of emotion would offer him. He leaned forward, placed his elbows near his knees and clasped his own hands, hoping that this perfectly natural posture would conceal his erection which over the space of only seconds had grown steel hard. He made a mental resolution there and then to masturbate at least twice every morning from now on before leaving for work. And twice more during the day. That would be easy-all he’d have to do was think about Valerie Lin with her tiny breasts, narrow waist and inviting hips with a black triangle marking the entrance to Heaven.
“Mrs. Lin,” Chee Wei said. “This is just a formality, you understand, but we must ask if there are any witnesses-family, friends, employees-who will be able to attest to your whereabouts around midnight last night.”
She didn’t appear to hear him. Chee Wei opened his mouth to speak again but Ryker gave a little shake of his head. They waited. Ryker sucked in long, deep breaths and tried to calm himself, willing his erection to go down. With primitive cunning his penis has slipped down one leg of his boxers before swelling to strain up against the material of his pants leg, like some monstrous leviathan rising from the deep. Moving his left forearm to either side would reveal his rigid manhood. How would Valerie Lin react? He imagined her eyes widening in shock. Ryker bowed his head, trying not to giggle. For Christ’s sake, focus! The thought that he’d probably tell Chee Wei about this on their way back to the station house only made matters worse. His stomach muscles trembled in anticipation of a mighty guffaw that he simply could not allow. He concentrated on the implications of such unprofessional behavior. James Lin would undoubtedly learn of it. Shortly thereafter, Ryker would be summoned to Captain Jericho’s office and thrown across the big oak desk for the butt-fucking of a lifetime.
That did it-the leviathan groaned, rolled over and descended back into the inky ocean depths. He began to relax, then realized Valerie Lin was looking directly at him. Did she know? Or had she said something, only he was too lost in his juvenile fantasy to hear? He chose a neutral gambit-“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lin….”-and deliberately allowed his voice to trail off. She could interpret it one of several ways: I’m sorry for your loss. Could you say that again please? Someone chopped off your husband’s penis, stuffed it into his mouth, then stabbed him through the heart.
“My housekeeper should be able to verify… I did not leave the house. I also made a telephone call, to my sister-in-law. We talked for some time. That must have been around….” She shook her head, sighed, then shook her head again. “Does my father-in-law know? Have you told Lin Yubo?”
“We thought we should break the bad news to you first, Mrs. Lin.”
Something changed in her. Ryker couldn’t quite put his finger on it but the temperature of the air between them dropped a couple of degrees. “You don’t know who murdered my husband,” she said. “You came here to judge my reaction. You suspect I may be responsible.”
“Those are exactly our reasons for being here, Mrs. Lin.” She blinked in surprise at his unexpected candor but Ryker saw no reason to sugar coat it. “The first thing we do when someone’s husband suffers an unnatural death is call on the wife. Ten will get you twenty that she did it, or knows something about it. My first impressions of you are favorable. I don’t believe you murdered your husband. That doesn’t mean you’re automatically dismissed from the list of suspects. But if you let us talk to your housekeeper and your sister-in-law, and if what you just told us checks out, we won’t bother you again unless we absolutely have to.”
Chee Wei looked bemused, which was fair indication of how far Ryker had crossed over the line. But he wasn’t a robot any more than Chee Wei was a virgin. He was also on totally unfamiliar ground. Valerie Lin spoke good English but was, first and foremost, Chinese. Was he supposed to break the news as he would to an American wife whose American husband had been found dead? Or was he doing the right thing by laying all his cards on the table? Would she take this as it was intended, as a gesture of respect, or would she take insult instead? He held his breath and waited, only too aware of the risks involved.
“Thank you, detective,” she said at last. “For being so honest.”
He inclined his head, a quarter-bow rather than a mere nod.
“My sister-in-law is in China,” she said. “She lives in Shanghai.”
Ryker knew that Chee Wei would have the telephone company records pulled and Valerie Lin’s claim either verified or refuted within the hour. These days all calls going through the international switchboards were electronically recorded as a matter of course and scanned for keywords that might reveal terrorism at work, before being compressed and copied to permanent storage media. Cooperation between Homeland Security and every police department across the country was at an all-time high, and an official request for access to a particular data stream was likely to be granted without question.
“I’ll go talk to the housekeeper,” Chee Wei said. He got up and left the room. Ryker immediately felt awkward at being left alone in the presence of this beautiful woman who had captivated him from the instant she opened the front door, and who made him feel like a schoolboy caught up in the first stomach churning blossom of puppy love.
“Are you from Shanghai, Mrs. Lin?” he asked, feeling the need to make polite conversation that would put her at ease.