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He walked up and asked in English, "What they play here? Fan tai? Poker? Maybe thirteen points?"
The man looked at Li's clothes and ignored him.
"I want play," Li said.
"Fuck off," the young man spat out.
"I have money," Li shouted angrily. "Let me inside!"
"You Fujianese. I hear your accent. You not welcome here. Get outta here or you get hurt."
Li raged, "My dollar good as fuck Cantonese dollar. You boss, he want you turn away customers?"
"Get outta here, little man. I'm not going to tell you again."
And he pulled aside his nice black jacket, revealing the butt of an automatic pistol.
Excellent! This is what Li had been hoping for.
Appearing frightened, he started to turn away then spun back with his arm outstretched. He caught the young man in the chest with his fist, knocking the wind out of him. The boy staggered back and Li struck him in the nose with his open palm. He cried out and fell hard to the pavement. The guard lay there, gasping frantically for breath, blood pouring from his nose, while Li delivered a kick to his side.
Taking the gun, an extra clip of ammunition and the man's cigarettes, Li looked up and down the street. Two young women, walking arm in arm, pretended that they hadn't seen. Aside from them the street was empty. He bent down to the miserable man again and took his wristwatch too and about three hundred dollars in cash.
"If you tell anyone I did this," Li said to the guard, speaking in Putonghua, "I'll find you and kill you."
The man nodded and sopped up the blood with his sleeve.
Li started to walk away then he glanced back and returned. The man cringed. "Take your shoes off," Li snapped.
"I--"
"Shoes. Take them off."
He undid the black lace-up Kenneth Coles and pushed them toward Li.
"Socks too."
The expensive black silk socks joined the shoes.
Li took off his own shoes and socks, gritty with sand and still wet, and flung them away. He put on the new ones.
Heaven, he thought happily.
Li hurried back to one of the crowded commercial streets. There he found a cheap clothing store and bought a pair of jeans, a T-shirt and a thin Nike windbreaker. He changed in the back of the store, paid for his purchases and tossed his old clothes into a trash bin. Li then went into a Chinese restaurant and ordered tea and a bowl of noodles. As he ate he pulled a folded piece of paper out of his wallet, the sheet that he'd stolen from Hongse's car at the beach.
August 8
From: Harold C. Peabody,
Assistant Director of Enforcement, U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service
To: Det. Capt. Lincoln Rhyme (Ret.)
Re: Joint INS/FBI/NYPD Task Force in the matter of Kwan Ang, AKA Gui, AKA The Ghost
This confirms our meeting at ten a.m. tomorrow to discuss the plans for the apprehension of the above-referenced suspect. Please see attached material for background.
Stapled to the memo was a business card, which read:
