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“Look who is teaching me how to hide a gun!OK, Watson, the quotation is accepted. Let's go into the house. Iwill give my tired deputy a refreshing massage.”
“It looks like not Tan but I is the birthdayboy today. First the rabbit stew, and now – the refreshing massage.Plus the working version in the bargain.”
“But not for free, Mister Wile E Coyote, notfor free. After the massage, you must chase the Road Ru
I don't know about the cartoon characters,but this particular Wile E Coyote is ready to chase this particularRoad Ru
***
By one o'clock I feel like an icicle. InHouston, the summer nights can be quite chilly, and not evencounting all the moisture from the irrigation ditches. But worst ofall are the goddamn mosquitoes. They sleep all day, and come out atnight. The next time I will follow the example of Greg Lestrade andwear my gun with my trousers.
“How long, do you reckon?” - I whisper toKate.
“God knows,” She whispers back, “I am afraidI've screwed-up with my version.”
We took our observationpoint at half past ten. My Police bike was chained in theChina-Four (Kate was riding on the trunk, as usual). And from thePatch-Four we proceeded on-foot on the dirt paths between theendless veggie beds, fish ponds, and rice paddies. More precisely,I was on-foot. Kate was on her skate. In order not to make noise,she left her wooden blocks at home and wrapped her hands in oldrags.
“What if he went through the other side?” Iask.
“I don't think he's bold enough to drag thedead body through the Patch common grounds.”
“Well. Let's do this. I sneak down the pathand check. What if Lee is already at home?”
“And what do you do if he's at home?”
“I'll come back and we decide what to donext.”
“Sounds like a plan! Do you remember theshack?”
“I remember. After the communal latrines,there will be a storage shed. From the shed - the seventh shack onthe left.”
“Excellent.”
It's a near-full moon, so the risk ofstepping into some shit or destroying the veggie beds is null.Unfortunately, the narrow winding gap between the shacks, –something they call a footpath in these parts of the Slum – ispitch black. Good that Kate counted the shacks yesterday. I returnfrom my scout mission almost ru
“Kate! Lee's house has a light inside. He isat home.”
“This means, Watson, that your SherlockHolmes is no damn good. Let's go see Mister Lee. Get your backready, detective.”
We have done it many times. I squat down andpick the skate. Kate wraps her arm around my shoulders. Threeminutes later, I offload her at the Chen's shack stair.
“Scratch the door. Just be quiet, or we wakeup the whole Patch,” Kate whispers into my ear.
I approach the opposite door, “Mister Lee?Open up, Police.”
“It's not locked, come in,” The voice frombehind the door is without a hint of surprise or fear. It turns outthat our prey has been expecting us. Impatient, Kate crawls acrossthe dirt path.
A dim LED bulb barely illuminates afoot-tall tilted desk. Mister Lee sits on the tatami floor withbrush in his fingers. An intricate hieroglyph is half-finished.This part our Sherlock Holmes has guessed correctly: he is anexperienced calligrapher, no questions. Unfortunately, Kate's otherguesses are not as good. For starters, there is no dead body in theshack.
“Welcome, Deputy Kim. Good evening, MissisBowen,” Lee smiles to us, “You come to get my confession, doyou?”
“How do you know my name?” Kate asks.
“Oh, everybody knows you!You're a local star. Even at the 'Fill the scavengers ask once in awhile: is it true in the GRS you have a legless Police girl on askateboard?”
“And why do you think we come for yourconfession?”
“Strange question. Why would the Policeknock on your door at half past one in the night?” As if nothinghas happened, he finishes his hieroglyph with two precise brushstrokes.
“I know that you didn't kill anybody, MisterLee,” Kate says, “If you are guilty, the only thing you can becharged with is the obstruction of justice.”
“No need to make it complicated, MissisBowen. I confess. I killed my neighbor, Mister Chen Te-Sheng. Doyou want it in writing? I will sign it at once. After the sunrise,I will show you how I hid the body.”
“You hid the body in the irrigation ditch.Under a snag, yesterday – at midnight,” Kate pronouncessuddenly.
“I suspected someone had seen it!” With asigh, the host starts drying his brush, “Why did you need this showwith the search? Admit, Deputy, our widow Lim did not sleep onceagain, spying on the neighbors, did she?”
“Mister Lee, I know that Chen Te-Sheng isalive,” Kate says.
“I don't want to disappoint you, MissisBowen, but you're wrong. I stabbed Chen Te-Sheng with ascrew-driver and I dumped the body. Victor must be released atonce. The boy doesn't know anything.”
“You I still don't believe me, MisterLee?”
“Why are you frowning?”
“It's irrelevant.”
“Oh, how I did not see it earlier? You havephantom pain, do you?”
“Yes, I have it sometimes. How did youguess?”
“Your left hand is in theair. As if you are touching the missing knee. Looking at youruniform, you are a recent vet. Traumatic amputations frequentlyresult in phantom pain.”
“Are you – a doctor?”
“I was. A psychiatrist.But I haven't practiced, at least in any official capacity, foryears and years. In America, it's not easy to convert thepsychiatrist's foreign diploma. I didn't do it before theMeltdown, and now –nobody cares. Have you discussed a pain management plan with yourdoctors?”
“There was a short session. Just before theydumped me in the port. I was told to meditate and smokemarijuana.”
“Not a bad plan. Have your smokeimmediately. And I'll make you my special tea.”
Kate pulls her box andstart rolling her To-Ma-Gochi, while Mister Lee pullsout a lacquer tray with a tea set and a thermos. “Would you do stopguarding the doorway, Deputy?” He turns to me. “Please kindly takea seat. You don't mind sitting on tatami, do you? I have no chairs,don't like them.”
“Thank you,” I leave sandals at the top ofthe stairs and close the door.
Soon later, we sit with cups in our hands,and the room is full with strange smell: the medicinal herb teablend plus another medical medicinal herb from the Kate's smoke.Surreal. The Police came to a suspect for a roll of Grass and a cupof tea.
“Nice tea, Mister Lee,” Kate closes her eyesand exhales smoke through the nose.
“Chinese Medicine. I will write you aprescription. How is your pain? Better?”
“Almost gone. Let's talk about Mister Chen.Why do you stick your head in the noose for a murder you don'tcommit?”
“What makes you so sure I am i
“OK, fine. Let's have it this way. I willtell the entire story as I see it, and if something is wrong - youwill correct me.”
“Ah! Playing Sherlock Holmes?”
I give Kate a nod. How has Lee guessed aboutSherlock?”
“If you wish, we can call it playingSherlock Holmes,” Kate agrees, “So the story goes like this.Yesterday, in the late afternoon, Mister Chen Te-Sheng ran intoyour shack. Where was he wounded, exactly?”
“In his left forearm. But the wound wassuperficial. As soon as I bandaged it, the blood stopped. I had tosacrifice a pillowcase.”
“I thought so. The wound kept you busy.After you had bandaged the wound, you looked out of the shack, justin-time to see Victor Chan ru