“I will at five-ten.”

“Okay.”

Bosch closed the phone and put it down on the table. They had designed the third text as the one that would finally draw the contact out. The message would say that Sun was canceling the meeting because he had spotted a tail and believed it was the police. He would urge the unknown contact to leave Geo immediately.

The waitress came and put down a bowl of rice. The shrimp on top were whole, their distended eyes cooked white. Bosch pushed the bowl away.

His phone buzzed. He checked his watch before answering it.

“You already sent it?” Bosch asked.

At first there was no response.

“Sun Yee?”

“Harry, it’s Chu.”

Bosch checked his watch again. It was time for the last text.

“I gotta call you back.”

He closed the phone and once more looked out across the tables of three restaurants, hoping for the needle-in-the-haystack moment that would reveal the contact. Somebody reading a text, maybe typing a response.

Nothing came. He saw no one pull a phone and glance at the screen. There were too many people to cover at the same time and the futility of the plan began to open a hollow in his chest. His eyes moved to the table where the woman and boy had sat and he saw that they were gone. He swept the restaurant and saw them leaving. The woman was moving fast, dragging the boy by the hand. In her other hand she carried her cell phone.

Bosch opened his phone and punched in a call to Sun. He answered immediately.

“The woman and the boy. They’re coming your way. I think it might be her.”

“She got the text?”

“No, I think she was sent to make the contact. The texts went offsite. We have to follow the woman. Where’s the car?”

“Out front.”

Bosch stood up, put three hundred-dollar bills down on the table and headed toward the exit.

35

Sun was already in the car waiting out front of the Yellow Flower. As Bosch was opening the door, he heard a voice calling from behind him.

“Sir! Sir!”

He turned and it was the waitress coming after him, holding out his hat and the map. She had also brought the change from his tab.

“You forgot these, sir.”

Bosch grabbed the items and said thanks. He pushed the change back toward her.

“You keep that,” he said.

“You did not enjoy your shrimp rice,” she said.

“You got that right.”

Bosch ducked into the car, hoping that the momentary delay would not cost them the tail on the woman and the boy. Sun immediately pulled away from the restaurant and into traffic. He pointed through the windshield.

“They are in the white Mercedes,” he said.

The car he pointed at was a block and a half ahead, moving in light traffic.

“Is she driving?” Bosch asked.

“No, she and the boy got into a waiting car. A man was driving.”

“Okay, you got them? I need to make a call.”

“I have them.”

As Sun followed the white Mercedes, Bosch called Chu back.

“It’s Bosch.”

“Okay, I got some information through HKPD. But they were asking me a lot of questions, Harry.”

“Give me the information first.”

Bosch pulled out his notebook and pen.

“Okay, the phone number you gave me is registered to a company. Northstar Seafood and Shipping. Northstar is one word. It’s located in Tuen Mun. That’s up in the New-”

“I know. You have the exact address”

Chu gave him an address on Hoi Wah Road and Bosch repeated it out loud. Sun nodded his head. He knew where it was.

“Okay, anything else?” Bosch asked.

“Yes. Northstar is under suspicion, Harry.”

“What’s that mean? Suspicion of what”

“I couldn’t get anything specific. Just of illegal shipping and trade practices.”

“Like human trafficking”

“It could be. Like I said, I could not get specific information. Just questions about why I was tracing the number.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That it was a blind trace. The number was found on a piece of paper in a homicide investigation. I said I didn’t know the connection.”

“That’s good. Is there any name associated with this phone number”

“Not directly to the number, no. But the man who owns Northstar Seafood and Shipping is Dennis Ho. He is forty-five years old and that’s all I could get without making it seem like I was working something specific. Does it help?”

“It helps. Thanks.”

Bosch ended the call and then updated Sun on what he knew.

“Have you heard of Dennis Ho?” he asked.

Sun shook his head.

“Never.”

Bosch knew they had to make a major decision.

“We don’t know if this woman has anything to do with this,” Bosch said, pointing ahead at the white Mercedes. “We could be just spinning our wheels here. I say we break off of this and go directly to Northstar.”

“We don’t need to decide yet.”

“Why not? I don’t want to waste time on this.”

Sun nodded in the direction of the white Mercedes. It was about two hundred yards ahead.

“We are already heading toward the waterfront. They may be going there.”

Bosch nodded. Both angles of investigation were still in play.

“How’s your gas?” Bosch asked.

“Diesel,” Sun replied. “And we are fine.”

For the next half hour they edged the coastline on Castle Peak Road, staying a good distance behind the Mercedes but always keeping it in sight. They drove without speaking to each other. They had reached a point where they knew time was short and there was nothing else to say. Either the Mercedes or Northstar would lead them to Maddie Bosch or it was likely they would never see her again.

As the vertical buildup of housing estates in Central Tuen Mun appeared ahead of them, Bosch saw the turn signal on the Mercedes engage. The car was turning left, away from the waterfront.

“They’re turning,” he warned.

“That’s a problem,” Sun said. “The industrial waterfront is ahead. They are turning toward residential neighborhoods.”

They were both silent for a moment, hoping a plan would materialize or maybe the driver of the Mercedes would realize they needed to go straight and correct the car’s course.

Neither happened.

“Which way?” Sun finally asked.

Bosch felt a tearing inside. His choice here could mean his daughter’s life. He knew that he and Sun could not split up with one following the car and the other going to the waterfront. Bosch was in a world he did not know and would be useless on his own. He needed Sun with him. He came to the same conclusion he had reached after the call from Chu.

“Let her go,” he finally said. “We go to Northstar.”

Sun kept going straight and they passed the white Mercedes as it took the left on a road marked Tsing Ha Lane. Bosch glanced out the window at the car as it slowed down. The man driving glanced back at him but only for a second.

“Shit,” Bosch said.

“What is it?” Sun asked.

“He looked at me. The driver. I think they knew we were following them. I think we had it right-she’s part of this.”

“Then this is good.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“If they knew we were following, then their turning away from the waterfront could be an effort to lead us away from Northstar. You see?”

“I see. Let’s hope you’re right.”

Soon they entered an industrial waterfront area filled with ramshackle warehouses and packing plants lined along the wharfs and piers. There were river barges and medium-size seafaring boats docked up and down, sometimes two and three abreast. All of it seemed abandoned for the day. No work on Sunday.

Several fishing boats were moored out in the harbor, all safe behind a typhoon shelter created by a long concrete pier that formed the outer perimeter of the harbor.

Traffic thinned and Bosch began to worry that the casino’s slick black Mercedes would be too noticeable as they made the approach to Northstar. Sun must have been thinking the same thing. He pulled into the parking lot of a closed food shop and stopped the car.