with more questions.”
Linda nodded, her hair waving back and forth. “Where will you go next?”
“I think there are answers in Chinatown,” said Cape, “but without Sally I’m half-blind.”
“Is that like being half-dumb?”
“ That I’m used to.”
“So?”
“I need a guide,” said Cape. “Someone who knows Chinatown from the inside.”
Linda raised her eyebrows. “You have someone in mind?”
Cape finished the last bite of pancakes before answering, bringing his empty fork down onto the newspaper that lay between them. The silver tines landed neatly on the bridge of Harold Yan’s nose, his dark eyes staring up from the front page.
“Why not ask him?” said Cape.
Linda shook her head in disbelief, thinking of all the reasons why not, but instead saying, “You think he’ll talk to you?”
Cape looked hurt. “Wouldn’t you?”
“I’m not running for mayor,” Linda replied.
“Too bad,” said Cape as he glanced at the check and put some bills on the table. “I would have voted for you.”
Linda smiled. “Want me to check him out, too? Maybe I’ll find a way in.”
Cape shrugged. “I think I’m going to try the direct approach and call Yan’s office, but sure—go ahead. It’s always nice to know who you’re dealing with.”
Linda stood to leave. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Cape nodded absently, his thoughts already somewhere else.
He was wondering what the hell he was going to say to the Mayor of Chinatown.
Chapter Eighteen
Hong Kong, 11 years ago
“Watch his left foot,” whispered Sally. “He drags it to the left before he strikes.”
Jun nodded, wiggling her toes as she watched the kendo instructor take his position in the center of the floor. He and the girls were barefoot, their wooden sandals lined up outside the open door of the dojo. Sally could see other girls in the exercise yard in groups of ten or twelve. Some sparred while instructors shouted at them, sometimes stepping between two girls to show them how to strike or block a kick. Others practiced balancing on wooden poles eight feet high and four feet apart.
Sally unconsciously rubbed her right knee as she watched, remembering the fall she had taken the week before. Master Xan had kept her on the poles for four hours, long after the other girls had gone to supper, making her practice until she could finish the course without falling. Sally had collapsed on her bed afterward, too exhausted to eat or change her clothes, but pleased with herself for not failing.
The next day Xan made her lead the class.
Three days later he made her do it blindfolded.
“Su Quan!” yelled Xan from across the room, breaking Sally out of her reverie. “Come forward.”
A girl with short black hair jumped up and ran lightly to the nearest wall, where long wooden swords hung on racks next to several life-sized figures made of bound straw. Selecting one of the swords, she crossed the hardwood floor and approached her opponent.
The teacher was a young man named Yuan, whom Sally guessed was maybe eighteen, only a few years older than the girls. His hair was cut very short, looking almost spiked, making his forehead seem too big for his face. His eyes looked dull and flat as he studied Su Quan, meeting her nervous gaze as they faced each other and bowed.
The sudden crack of wood against wood was like a gunshot in the enclosed space as Yuan lunged forward, his sword coming down like a scythe toward Su Quan’s head. She parried the blow but it cost her balance, and she staggered backward. Before she could regain her footing, Yuan sprang forward and swung his sword low, knocking her feet out from under her. Su Quan landed hard on her side, her sword clattering across the floor.
Xan came forward as Yuan stepped back into a neutral position, a self-satisfied look on his face.
“Yuan is stronger than Su Quan,” Xan said matter-of-factly. “He is taller, and he is faster. Does this matter?”
“No, Master Xan,”
Linda nodded, her hair waving back and forth. “Where will you go next?”
“I think there are answers in Chinatown,” said Cape, “but without Sally I’m half-blind.”
“Is that like being half-dumb?”
“ That I’m used to.”
“So?”
“I need a guide,” said Cape. “Someone who knows Chinatown from the inside.”
Linda raised her eyebrows. “You have someone in mind?”
Cape finished the last bite of pancakes before answering, bringing his empty fork down onto the newspaper that lay between them. The silver tines landed neatly on the bridge of Harold Yan’s nose, his dark eyes staring up from the front page.
“Why not ask him?” said Cape.
Linda shook her head in disbelief, thinking of all the reasons why not, but instead saying, “You think he’ll talk to you?”
Cape looked hurt. “Wouldn’t you?”
“I’m not running for mayor,” Linda replied.
“Too bad,” said Cape as he glanced at the check and put some bills on the table. “I would have voted for you.”
Linda smiled. “Want me to check him out, too? Maybe I’ll find a way in.”
Cape shrugged. “I think I’m going to try the direct approach and call Yan’s office, but sure—go ahead. It’s always nice to know who you’re dealing with.”
Linda stood to leave. “Thanks for breakfast.”
Cape nodded absently, his thoughts already somewhere else.
He was wondering what the hell he was going to say to the Mayor of Chinatown.
Chapter Eighteen
Hong Kong, 11 years ago
“Watch his left foot,” whispered Sally. “He drags it to the left before he strikes.”
Jun nodded, wiggling her toes as she watched the kendo instructor take his position in the center of the floor. He and the girls were barefoot, their wooden sandals lined up outside the open door of the dojo. Sally could see other girls in the exercise yard in groups of ten or twelve. Some sparred while instructors shouted at them, sometimes stepping between two girls to show them how to strike or block a kick. Others practiced balancing on wooden poles eight feet high and four feet apart.
Sally unconsciously rubbed her right knee as she watched, remembering the fall she had taken the week before. Master Xan had kept her on the poles for four hours, long after the other girls had gone to supper, making her practice until she could finish the course without falling. Sally had collapsed on her bed afterward, too exhausted to eat or change her clothes, but pleased with herself for not failing.
The next day Xan made her lead the class.
Three days later he made her do it blindfolded.
“Su Quan!” yelled Xan from across the room, breaking Sally out of her reverie. “Come forward.”
A girl with short black hair jumped up and ran lightly to the nearest wall, where long wooden swords hung on racks next to several life-sized figures made of bound straw. Selecting one of the swords, she crossed the hardwood floor and approached her opponent.
The teacher was a young man named Yuan, whom Sally guessed was maybe eighteen, only a few years older than the girls. His hair was cut very short, looking almost spiked, making his forehead seem too big for his face. His eyes looked dull and flat as he studied Su Quan, meeting her nervous gaze as they faced each other and bowed.
The sudden crack of wood against wood was like a gunshot in the enclosed space as Yuan lunged forward, his sword coming down like a scythe toward Su Quan’s head. She parried the blow but it cost her balance, and she staggered backward. Before she could regain her footing, Yuan sprang forward and swung his sword low, knocking her feet out from under her. Su Quan landed hard on her side, her sword clattering across the floor.
Xan came forward as Yuan stepped back into a neutral position, a self-satisfied look on his face.
“Yuan is stronger than Su Quan,” Xan said matter-of-factly. “He is taller, and he is faster. Does this matter?”
“No, Master Xan,”
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