The Stone Monkey

Plaza and he wasn’t going anywhere until the Ghost was in custody.
    Then she looked him over. Shook her head in disgust.“You shot Sung, hid the body, then shot yourself. And swam back into the ocean. You nearly drowned.”
    “I didn’t have much choice, did I? Jerry Tang abandoned me. There was no way I was going to escape from the beach without masquerading as Sung.”
    “What about your gun?”
    “Stuffed it into my sock in the ambulance. Then I hid it in the hospital and picked it up after the INS officer released me.”
    “INS officer?” she mused, nodding. “You did get released awfully fast.” The Ghost said nothing and she added, “Well, that’s something else we’ll look into.” Then she asked, “Everything you told me about John Sung  . . . you made it up?”
    The Ghost shrugged. “No, what I told you about him was true. Before I killed him I made him tell me about himself, about everyone who was on the raft, about Chang and Wu. Enough so I could make my performance believable. I threw out his picture ID and kept the wallet and the amulet.”
    “Where’s his body?”
    Another placid smile was his response.
    His serenity infuriated her. He was caught—and was going to jail for the rest of his life and might possibly be executed but he looked as if he were only being inconvenienced by a late train. Fury seized her and she drew back her hand to strike him in the face. But when he gave no reaction—no cringe, no squint—she lowered her arm, refusing to give him the satisfaction of stoically withstanding the blow.
    Sachs’s ringing phone intruded. She stepped away and answered. “Yes?”
    “Everyone having fun?” Rhyme’s voice demanded sarcastically.
    “I—”
    “Having a picnic maybe? Taking in a movie? Forgetting about the rest of us?”
    “Rhyme, we were in the middle of a takedown.”
    “I suppose somebody was going to call me eventually and let me know what happened. At some point . . .No, I won’t, Thom. I’m pissed off.”
    “We’ve been a little busy here, Rhyme,” she answered.
    “Just wondering what was going on. I’m not psychic, you know.”
    She knew he’d already heard that none of their team was injured—otherwise he wouldn’t be riddling her with sarcasm.
    She responded, “You can stow the attitude—”
    “‘Stow’? Spoken like a true sailor, Sachs.”
    “—because we caught him.” She added, “I tried to get him to tell me where John Sung’s body is but he—”
    “Well, we can figure that out, Sachs, can’t we? It is obvious, after all.”
    To some people maybe, she reflected, though she was delighted to hear his characteristic barbs, rather than the flat-line voice of earlier.
    The criminalist continued, “In the trunk of the stolen Honda.”
    “And that’s still out on the eastern end of Long Island?” she asked, understanding finally.
    “Of course. Where else would it be? The Ghost stole it, killed Sung and then drove east to hide it—we wouldn’t look in that direction. We’d assume he headed west—into the city.”
    Sellitto hung up his phone and pointed to the street.
    Sachs nodded and said, “I’ve got to go see some people, Rhyme.”
    “See some people? See, you are treating this like a goddamn picnic. Who?”
    She considered for a moment and said, “Some friends.”

Chapter Forty-six
    She found the family standing outside a run-down house near Owls Head Park. The smell of sewage was heavy in the air—from the treatment plant that had both betrayed them and saved their lives.
    None of the family was in handcuffs and Sachs was pleased at that. She was also pleased that two uniformed NYPD police were chatting good-naturedly with the boy who must’ve been the Changs’ youngest son.
    His father, Sam Chang, stood with his arms crossed, grim and silent, head down, as an Asian-American man in a suit—an INS agent, she assumed—talked with him, jotting notes.
    At his side was an unhappy, stolid woman in her forties, holding the hand of Po-Yee. Sachs felt a huge thud within her when she saw the Treasured Child. The toddler was adorable. A round-faced girl with silky black hair cut in bangs and short on the sides. She wore red corduroy jeans and a Hello Kitty sweatshirt that was about two sizes too big for her.
    A detective recognized Sellitto and walked up to him and Sachs. “The family’s fine. We’re taking them to INS detention in Queens. It looks like with Chang’s record of dissident activity—he was at