Bosch took a position to the right of the door where Sun had stopped. He swung his arm back underneath his coat and gripped the handgun but didn’t pull it. He felt the clotted blood in the wound on his arm break free with the movement. He was going to start bleeding again.
Sun looked at him and Bosch nodded that he was ready. Sun knocked on the door and they waited.
No one answered.
He knocked again. This time louder.
They waited again. Bosch glanced out over the playground to the Mercedes and saw that so far it had been left alone.
No one answered.
Sun finally stepped back away from the door.
“What do you wish to do?”
Bosch looked down at the smoking ash can thirty feet away.
“There’s somebody home next door. Let’s ask them if they’ve seen this guy around.”
Sun led the way and knocked on the next door. This time it was opened. A small woman of about sixty peeked out. Sun nodded and smiled and spoke to her in Chinese. Soon the woman relaxed and opened the door a little bit wider. Sun kept talking and soon after that she opened it all the way and stood aside so they could enter.
As Bosch stepped over the threshold Sun whispered to him.
“Five hundred Hong Kong dollars. I promised her.”
“No problem.”
It was a small two-room apartment. The first room served as kitchen, dining room and living room. It was sparely furnished and smelled like hot cooking oil. Bosch peeled five hundred-dollar bills off his roll without taking it out of his pocket. He put the bills under a dish of salt that was on the kitchen table. He then pulled out a chair and sat down.
Sun remained standing and so did the woman. He continued his conversation in Chinese, pointing at Bosch for a moment. Bosch nodded and smiled and acted like he knew what was being said.
Three minutes went by and then Sun broke off the interview so he could summarize for Bosch.
“She is Fengyi Mai. She lives here alone. She said she has not seen Peng Qingcai since yesterday morning. He lives next door with his mother and his younger sister. She has not seen them either. But she heard them yesterday afternoon. Through the wall.”
“How old is Peng Qingcai?”
Sun communicated the question and then translated the response.
“She thinks he is eighteen. He doesn’t go to school anymore.”
“What’s his sister’s name?”
Another back and forth and then Sun reported that the sister’s name was He. But he didn’t pronounce it the way Harry’s daughter had.
Bosch thought about all of this for a few moments before asking the next question.
“She’s sure it was yesterday that she saw him? Saturday morning? What was he doing?”
While Bosch waited for the translation he watched the woman closely. She had maintained good eye contact with Sun during the earlier questions but she began looking away while answering the latest questions.
“She is sure,” Sun said. “She heard a sound outside her door yesterday morning and when she opened it, Peng was there, burning an offering. He was using her altar.”
Bosch nodded but he was sure there was something the woman had left out or was lying about.
“What did he burn?”
Sun asked the woman. She looked down the whole time she gave her answer.
“She said he burned paper money.”
Bosch stood up and went to the door. Outside he turned the ash can over on the walkway. It was smaller than a conventional water bucket. Smoking black ash spread across the walkway. Fengyi Mai had obviously burned a sacrifice within the last hour or so. He grabbed an incense stick from the altar and used it to poke through the hot debris. There were a few pieces of unburned cardboard but for the most part it was all ash. Bosch pushed it around some more and soon uncovered a piece of melted plastic. It was charred black and shapeless. He tried to pick it up but it was too hot.
He went back inside the apartment.
“Ask her when she last used the altar and what it was she burned.”
Sun translated the answer.
“She used it this morning. She also burned paper money.”
Bosch was still standing.
“Ask her why she’s lying.”
Sun hesitated.
“Ask her.”
Sun asked the question and the woman denied lying. Bosch nodded when he received her answer, then walked over to the table. He lifted the dish of salt off the five bills and put them back in his pocket.
“Tell her we pay nothing for lies, but that I’ll pay two thousand for the truth.”
The woman protested after hearing Sun’s translation but then Sun’s demeanor changed and he angrily barked at her, and the woman clearly got scared. She put her hands together as if to beg his forgiveness and then walked into another room.
“What did you tell her?” Bosch asked.
“I told her she must tell the truth or she would lose her apartment.”
Bosch raised his eyebrows. Sun had certainly kicked it up a notch.
“She believes I am police officer and you are my supervisor,” he added.
“How’d she get that idea?” Bosch asked.
Before Sun could answer, the woman came back carrying a small cardboard box. She went directly to Bosch and handed it to him, then bowed as she backed away. Harry opened it and found the remains of a melted and burnt cell phone.
While the woman gave Sun an explanation, Bosch pulled his own cell phone and compared it to the burned phone. Despite the damage, it was clear the phone the woman retrieved from her ash can was a match.
“She said Peng was burning that,” Sun said. “It made a very foul smell that would be displeasing to the ghosts so she removed it.”
“It’s my daughter’s.”
“Are you sure?”
“I bought it for her. I’m sure.”
Bosch opened his own phone and went to the photo files. He scrolled through his photos of his daughter until he found one of her in her school uniform.
“Show her this. See if she’s seen her with Peng.”
Sun showed the phone to the woman and asked the question. The woman shook her head as she responded, putting her hands together in prayer to underline that she was telling the truth now. Bosch didn’t need the translation. He stood up and pulled out his money. He put two thousand Hong Kong dollars on the table-less than three hundred American-and headed to the door.
“Let’s go,” he said.
32
They knocked on Peng’s door once again but got no answer. Bosch knelt down to untie and retie his shoe. He studied the lock on the doorknob as he did so.
“What do we do?” Sun asked after Bosch stood back up.
“I have picks. I can open the door.”
Bosch could see reluctance immediately cloud Sun’s face, even with the sunglasses.
“My daughter could be in there. And if she isn’t, there might be something that tells us where she is. You stand behind me and block anyone’s view. I’ll get us in in less than a minute.”
Sun looked out at the wall of duplicate buildings surrounding them like giants.
“We watch first?,” he said.
“Watch?” Bosch asked. “Watch what?”
“The door. Peng could come back. He could lead us to Madeline.”
Bosch looked at his watch. It was half past one.
“I don’t think we have time. We can’t go static here.”
“What is ‘static?’”
“We can’t stand still, man. We have to keep moving if we are going to find her.”
Sun turned from the view and looked directly at Bosch.
“One hour. We watch. If we come back to open the door, you don’t take the gun.”
Bosch nodded. He understood. Getting caught breaking and entering was one thing. Getting caught breaking and entering with a gun was about ten years of something else.
“Okay, one hour.”
They went down the elevator and out through the tunnel. Along the way Bosch tapped Sun on the arm and asked him which one of the mailboxes had Peng’s apartment number on it. Sun found the box and they saw that the lock had long been punched out. Bosch glanced back through the tunnel to the security guard reading the paper. He opened the mailbox and saw two letters.