"You could check the stores closest to where the policeman was killed," Sung suggested. "But I suppose you've thought of that."
She nodded. "That's what we'll have to do. Maybe we'll get a break." She started to stand and winced as pain shot through her shoulder--a muscle she'd pulled on the Fuzhou Dragon.
"Taking your medicine?" he asked, chiding her.
"Yeah, I am. But you know how disgusting it tastes?"
"You can drink beer for pleasure. Here, sit down again."
She hesitated and lowered herself painfully to the couch. He moved close behind her. She could sense his proximity from the way the ambient noise in the room grew mute. Then she felt his hands on her shoulder as they began squeezing--softly at first then harder, more probing.
His face was near the back of her head, his breath caressing her neck. The hands moved up and down her skin, pressing hard but just short of the point of pain. It was relaxing, yes, but she felt momentarily disconcerted when the palms and fingers nearly encircled her throat.
"Relax," he whispered in that calm voice of his.
She tried to.
His hands slid to her shoulders then down her back. They moved forward along her ribs but stopped before he touched her breasts and returned again to her spine and neck.
Wondering if there really was something he could do for her--to improve the chance of her and Rhyme's having children.
Dryness in the kidneys . . .
She closed her eyes and lost herself in the powerful massage.
She felt him shift closer to her, getting better leverage, it seemed. He was only inches away. His hands moved up her spine to her neck once more, encircling them. His breathing was coming quickly--from the effort, she supposed.
"Why don't you take off that gun belt of yours?" he whispered.
"Bad karma?" she asked.
"No." He laughed. "It's interfering with your circulation."
She reached for the buckle and started to undo it. She felt his hand close around the thick nylon strap to help her remove it.
But then a harsh sound interrupted them--her cell phone ringing. She eased away from him and pulled the unit off her belt. "Hello? This is--"
"Sachs, get ready to roll."
"What do you have, Rhyme?"
There was no answer for a moment as she heard someone else in his room speaking to the criminalist.
A moment later he came back on the line. "The captain of the ship, Sen, is conscious. Eddie Deng's on the other line, interviewing him . . . . Hold on." Voices, shouts. Rhyme's commanding: "Well, we don't have time. Now, now, now! . . . Listen, Sachs, the captain spent some time in the hold of the Dragon. He overheard Chang talking with his father. Looks like some relative or friend arranged for an apartment and job for the family in Brooklyn."
"Brooklyn? What about Queens?"
"Sam Chang's the clever one, remember? I'm sure he said Queens to lead everybody off. I nar
rowed down the area where I think they are--Red Hook or Owls Head."
"How do you know?"
"How else, Sachs? The trace on the old man's shoes, biosolids. Remember? There're two waste treatment facilities in Brooklyn. I'm leaning toward Owls Head. It's more residential and's closer to Sunset Park, the Chinese community there. Eddie Deng's having his people from the Fifth Precinct call printing companies and sign painters in Owls Head. Lon's putting ESU on alert. And the INS's getting together a team too. I want you over there. I'll let you know as soon as I have an address."
She glanced up at Sung. "John, Lincoln's found the Changs' neighborhood. I'm going over there now."
"Where are they?"