The surrounding streets were clogged with end-of-the-day traffic. Pike reached the scene first. He was prowling past the Spring Street entrance when I arrived and waved me over. He’d already been up to the fourth floor where Richter and Locke had offices.
“Here and gone. Made a scene with Richter outside his office.”
“Was he arrested?”
“Not that kind of scene. Stuck a mic in Richter’s face and shouted questions. Deps thought he was a journalist.”
“So they let him go.”
“First Amendment. Richter’s people tried to laugh it off, but the deps are still buzzing about it.”
“About Josh or the questions?”
“Stuff about cash being found in Locke’s home. About pay-for-play deals and Skylar Lawless. Everyone heard. Other members. Reporters.”
Josh was planting seeds. Giving the reporters something to ponder.
“When was he here?”
“An hour ago. Maybe a little more.”
I thought it through and tried to decide what he’d do next. Josh had dropped his bomb and put them on notice. This was a stunt he could pull with public figures like Richter or Locke, but visiting Chow or Tarly might put him face-to-face with the meatball. Josh was smart enough to know this or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was so invested in bringing them down he’d lost sight of the danger.
Pike said, “What do we do?”
I dialed his burner again.
Voice mail.
I shook my head.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what he’s doing. He could be anywhere.”
I was thinking up options when Jon Stone called. I signaled Pike as I answered.
“Is he at the bungalow?”
“Something weird happened.”
“Is it him?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have eyes in there.”
“I do. Did. I’m getting nothing. A blank.”
“It’s him.”
“It’s probably a system malfunction.”
I lowered my phone and looked at Pike.
“Let’s go.”
61
Donghai An Bo
Bo was enjoying an early meal of two double-dipped lamb sandwiches at Philippe The Original. Bo was alone, seated on a stool at a communal counter and anticipating a baked apple and a large slice of lemon cream pie. Donghai An Bo was hungry. Earlier, he had lifted weights and climbed stairs for two hours at the Crystal Emperor’s most excellent gym. The weights were heavy. His calorie deficit was large.
His cell phone, resting on the counter near his plate, buzzed. The woman. Mr. Chow’s annoying assistant for his American operations.
Bo finished chewing and swallowed before he answered.
“Yes?”
“The devices you planted have failed.”
This woman knew nothing, yet believed she knew everything.
“What do you see?”
“I see nothing. They have failed.”
“Both devices have not failed.”
“They have failed. They have failed at exactly the same time. This suggests they have been caused to fail. Go now. I’ll send the others. Go.”
Donghai An Bo immediately left the restaurant. He would eat more later. After.
62
Josh Shoe
They drove slowly past the bungalows, looking for the people who’d been watching for Josh. Ryan’s head bobbed and swiveled, trying to see everywhere at once.
“I don’t see anyone, but I don’t know.”
Josh didn’t see squat. An army could be behind a car and Josh wouldn’t see them. Josh wanted to drop the podcast that night while Richter and Locke were scrambling to cover their asses, but it was too dark. Josh felt queasy.
Josh said, “I don’t know.”
This was their third trip past the bungalows. Ryan slowed to a stop at the base of the steps.
“Maybe they’re inside. I’d shit.”
“Yeah.”
Josh peered up the steps.
“The old man is home. I see his lights. The lady in the pink. The new kids. People are here.”
“People is good.”
“Yeah.”
Josh turned to his friend.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I’m kinda scared.”
Josh nodded.
“Yeah. This is fucked up.”
“What if the jammer doesn’t work?”
“It works. Everything they have works. My dad probably built it.”
“Did he show you how to use it?”
Josh was getting pissed.
“It’s intuitive. You power up, you’re good to go. It works.”