The Stone Monkey

have gov’t people on payroll.
    • Ghost stole red Honda sedan to escape. Vehicle locator request sent out.
         • No trace of Honda found.
    • Three bodies recovered at sea—two shot, one drowned. Photos and prints to Rhyme and Chinese police.
         • Drowned individual identified as Victor Au, the Ghost’s bangshou .
    • Fingerprints sent to AFIS.
         • No matches on any prints but unusual markings on Sam Chang’s fingers and thumbs (injury, rope burn?).
    • Profile of immigrants: Sam Chang and Wu Qichen and their families, John Sung, baby of woman who drowned, unidentified man and woman (killed on beach).
    Stolen Van, Chinatown
    • Camouflaged by immigrants with “The Home Store” logo.
    • Blood spatter suggests injured woman has hand, arm or shoulder injury.
    • Blood samples sent to lab for typing.
         • Injured woman is AB negative. Requesting more information about her blood.
    • Fingerprints sent to AFIS.
         • No matches.
    Jerry Tang Murder Crime Scene
    • Four men kicked door in and tortured him and shot him.
    • Two shell casings—match Model 51. Tang shot twice in head.
    • Extensive vandalism.
    • Some fingerprints.
         • No matches except Tang’s.
    • Three accomplices have smaller shoe size than Ghost, presumably smaller stature.
    • Trace suggests Ghost’s safehouse is probably downtown, Battery Park City area.
    • Suspected accomplices from Chinese ethnic minority. Presently pursuing whereabouts.

Chapter Twenty-four
    The Wus in the doorway.
    The children in the apartment.
    The Ghost and Yusuf, masks over their faces and guns at their sides, were sprinting across Canal Street. He felt the rush of excitement he always did before a kill. His hands vibrated slightly but would grow still when he lifted the gun to shoot.
    He thought again about Wu’s daughter. Seventeen, eighteen . . . pretty enough. He would—
    It was at this moment that a loud crack echoed through the street and a bullet slammed into a parked car just behind the Ghost. The alarm began braying.
    “Jesus,” a man’s voice called from somewhere. “Who fired?”
    The Ghost and Yusuf stopped and crouched. They lifted their weapons, scanning the street for their attacker.
    “Hell,” came another voice. “Cease-fire!”
    And another: “Who the fuck—”
    The Wus too stopped, crouching down on the pavement.
    The Ghost’s head was swiveling. He gripped Yusuf’s arm.
    A man’s voice cried through a loudspeaker, “Kwan Ang! Stop. This is the United States Immigration Service!” Followed immediately by a second gunshot—fromthe man who’d called out, it seemed—and a side window of a nearby parked car exploded in a cloudburst of glass.
    His heart vibrating from the shock, the snakehead scrabbled backward, his lucky gun up, as he looked for a target. The INS was here? How?
    “It’s a trap,” he raged to Yusuf. “Back to the car!”
    Chaos now filled Canal Street. More shouting, passers-by and store clerks diving for cover. Up the block the doors of two white vans opened and men and women in black uniforms, carrying guns, leapt out.
    And what was this? The Wus themselves were drawing weapons! The husband pulled a machine pistol from the plastic bag he’d held. The wife was lifting a weapon from her running suit pocket . . . . And then the Ghost realized that they weren’t the Wus at all. They were decoys—Chinese-American police officers or agents wearing the Wus’ clothing. Somehow the police had found the couple and sent these people back in their place to lure him out of cover. “Drop your weapons!” the man masquerading as Wu shouted.
    The Ghost fired five or six shots at random, to keep people down and stoke the panic. He shot out a window in a jewelry store, adding another siren to the tumult of sounds on the street and bolstering the chaos.
    The Turk in the driver’s seat opened the door and began firing at the white vans. Running, looking for cover and looking for targets, the police scattered on the far side of Canal.
    As he crouched beside their four-by-four, the Ghost heard: “Who fired? . . . Backups aren’t in position . . . What the fuck happened? . . . Watch the bystanders, for Christ’s sake!”
    A panicked driver in a car in front of the Wus’ apartmentstarted to speed up to get out of the line of fire. The Ghost fired two shots into the front seat. The window glass vanished and the car