The First Victim

CHAPTER 18

Mama Lu occupied the same wingback throne as she had on his first visit. Only the dress had changed: teal with black embroidery. She wore it wrapped around herself like a towel. Her long black braid fell over her shoulder heavy like a horsetail.

LaMoia had asked to come along, but Boldt had refused, not wanting to give the impression of teaming up on her.

He kept his opening comment to the point. ‘‘Your influence both as a businesswoman and great friend to this city stretches far and wide. No, don’t shake your head-we both know this to be true. Let us suppose that someone in this business of importing illegals decided not to risk unloading their cargo on shore but instead decided to make the transfer while still out at sea. To accomplish this effectively this person would need a tugboat, a barge and a crane. We, the police, have identified a company that looks good for this. Our problem is that the individual we believe responsible for renting that crane has failed to show up at work.’’

‘‘I own a few humble groceries, Mr. Both-’’

‘‘And four Laundromats, a movie theater, a limousine company, a hotel-’’

‘‘A few investments is all! Who trusts the banks anymore?’’

‘‘Geribaldi Equipment. The rental company. The manager is named Zulia. If he were encouraged to cooperate with police-’’

‘‘As a good citizen,’’ she said, testing.

‘‘Yes-out of his generosity of spirit-it would certainly save us opening up his or the company’s financial records. Cash flow. Payments.’’

Her brow tightened. She sat forward, however imperceptibly. She took hold of her braid with both pudgy hands as if it were a butler’s pull.

Boldt said, ‘‘There would be no reason for our forensic accountants to examine any of their records.’’

‘‘Only a fool stabs a dragon thinking he will kill it. To kill a dragon one must cut off its head.’’

He paused. ‘‘If forced to. .’’

She grinned, her eyes disappearing behind the folds of flesh. ‘‘How sharp is your sword, Mr. Both?’’

‘‘Zulia drops a name. He goes home.’’ He paused. ‘‘Everybody’s happy.’’

‘‘Not whoever’s name is mentioned.’’

Boldt grinned. The room felt suddenly hot to him. ‘‘The three women who died in that container were sick. They died of malnutrition and dehydration because the captain refused them food and water. Storms slowed down the crossing and the captain just let them die in there.’’

She said, ‘‘You reap what you sow,’’ and Boldt added yet another name to his list of possible murder suspects. The captain of the Visage was not short of enemies.

She said, ‘‘Once on these shores, these girls are good for economy. Maids in hotels, waitress in bars.’’

‘‘Sweatshops, prostitution,’’ he added.

He sought out the person behind those dark eyes, eager to determine her level of involvement, but saw nothing revealed. She sat there as impassive as the best judges.

For a moment he felt convinced this woman had not been involved with the deaths. When she smiled, he lost hold of it, like chasing a wet bar of soap.

‘‘They say ignorance is bliss, Mr. Both. Maybe true.’’

‘‘If he’d given them food and water they would have lived. There was no reason for them to die.’’

‘‘That man no longer with us. We must forgive him his sins.’’

‘‘Him, perhaps. But not the others.’’ He paused, having locked eyes with her. ‘‘Do you condone such treatment of your fellow Chi

nese?’’

‘‘A topic that bears much discussion.’’

He hesitated a moment and told her, ‘‘A Chinese-American has gone missing. A television reporter. She was investigating the container. If they harm her, they are fools. The power of the media is far greater than a single police department, believe me.’’

The woman’s face scrunched up tight. If this wasn’t news to her, she was a good actress. ‘‘You know this as true? Missing woman?’’

He said, ‘‘If a person were to help us locate this missing woman, the city would smile upon her.’’ He added, ‘‘The media, too.’’

She grinned and nodded and returned his determined gaze. ‘‘I understand.’’ A silence fell between them. ‘‘Go carefully, Mr. Both. Accidents happen to the nicest people.’’ She added, ‘‘And trust no one. Not even me.’’ She smiled again, more widely. She had forgotten her teeth. He saw them then in a clear glass to her right, grinning all on their own.

MONDAY, AUGUST 247 DAYS MISSING