9 Dragons

piece of pizza at the mall on Friday. Before…”
    “Okay, we’ve got to eat, then.”
    They took an escalator up to an area where there were a variety of restaurants overlooking the duty-free shopping mecca. Bosch chose a sit-down restaurant in the center of the concourse that had good views of the shopping level. His daughter ordered chicken fingers and Bosch ordered a steak and french fries.
    “You should never order a steak at an airport,” Madeline said.
    “Why’s that?”
    “You won’t get good quality.”
    Bosch nodded. It was the first time she had said something more than one or two words in length since they had said good-bye to Sun. Harry had been watching her slowly collapse inward as the release of fear that followed her escape wore off and the reality of what she had been through and what had happened to her mother sank in. Bosch had feared she might be going into some form of shock. Her odd observation about the quality of steak in an airport seemed to indicate that she was in a dissociated state.
    “Well, I guess I’ll find out.”
    She then jumped the conversation to a new place.
    “So am I going to live in L.A. with you now?”
    “I think so.”
    He studied her face for a reaction. It remained unchanged-blank stare over cheeks streaked with dried tears and sadness.
    “I want you to,” Bosch said. “And last time you were over, you said you wanted to stay.”
    “But not like this.”
    “I know.”
    “Will I ever go back to get my things and say good-bye to my friends”
    Bosch thought for a moment before responding.
    “I don’t think so,” he finally said. “I might be able to get your things sent. But you’re probably going to have to e-mail your friends, I guess. Or call them.”
    “At least I’ll be able to say good-bye.”
    Bosch nodded and was silent, noting the obvious reference to her lost mother. She soon spoke again, her mind like a balloon caught in the wind, touching down here and there on unpredictable currents.
    “Are we, like, wanted by the police here?”
    Bosch looked around to see if anyone sitting nearby had heard the question, then leaned forward to answer.
    “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “We could be. I could be. But I don’t want to find out here. It will be better to deal with all of this from L.A.”
    After a pause she asked another question and this one hit Bosch between the numbers.
    “Dad, did you kill those men that had me? I heard a lot of shooting.”
    Bosch thought about how he should answer-as a cop, as a father-but didn’t take too long.
    “Let’s just say that they got what they deserved. And that whatever happened was brought on by their own actions. Okay?”
    “Okay.”
    When the food came they stopped talking and ate ravenously. Bosch had chosen the restaurant, the table and his seat so that he would have a good view of the shopping area and the security gate beyond. As he ate, he kept a vigilant watch for any unusual activity involving the airport’s security staff. Any movement of multiple personnel or search activity would cause him concern. He had no idea if he was even on any police radar yet but he had cut a deadly path across Hong Kong and had to remain alert to it catching up to him.
    “Are you going to finish your french fries” Maddie asked.
    Bosch turned his plate so she could reach the fries.
    “Have at it.”
    When she reached across the table her sleeve pulled back and Bosch saw the bandage in the crook of her elbow. He thought of the bloodstained tissue Eleanor had found in the wastebasket in the room at Chungking Mansions.
    Bosch pointed at her arm.
    “Maddie, how did you get that? Did they take your blood?”
    She put her other hand over the wound as if that could stop all consideration of it.
    “Do we have to talk about this now?”
    “Can you just tell me one thing”
    “Yes, Quick took my blood.”
    “I was going to ask something else. Where were you before you were put in the trunk and taken to the boat?”
    “I don’t know, some kind of hospital place. Like a doctor’s office. I was locked in a room the whole time. Please, Dad, I don’t want to talk about it. Not now.”
    “Okay, sweetheart, we’ll talk about it when you want.”
    After the meal, they headed down to the shopping area. Bosch bought a complete set of new clothes in a men’s store and a pair of jogging shoes and arm sweatbands in a sports shop. Maddie declined the offer of new clothing and said she’d stick with what was