The protector book two s.., p.12
The Protector: Book Two: Siobhan, page 12
Getting to the park, we saw what I was afraid of. Lots of late teens and early twenties throwing a Frisbee or kicking around a hacky-sack, some moms walking kids in strollers and a few old men playing chess. I needed younger kids. We walked around, spoke to people and showed the picture but got no hits. The only ones interested were the three guys following us.
We were about to head back up towards Canal when a guy with almost white hair jogged up to us. When Yekong turned and seemed as tense as a coil about to be sprung I put my hand on her arm.
Up close he was much younger than I assumed. The man was about twenty-five and carried a five year stench on him.
“Hey, you guys looking for a kid?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Here’s her picture. Have you seen her?”
“Uh, no. Maybe. No. But I know where kids her age hang out.”
“Okay.”
The conversation came to a screeching halt as he just looked at me.
“Um, so, yeah, uh, life’s been a little hard lately. Maybe you could spare something so I can get something to eat?”
“I could do that. Not a problem. What’s your name?”
“Gary.”
“Okay, Gary. Tell us what you know and I’ll help you out with food.”
“And maybe some spending money.”
“Sure, Gary.”
He licked his lips and ran his hand through his thin hair. “Chinatown Fair. It’s an arcade over on Mott. Close. A couple of blocks. They got kids there that age. Like, all of them are that age. They’re open ‘till eleven or twelve.”
“An arcade? Gary, arcades haven’t been a thing in decades.”
“I’m not fucking with you, lady! Straight up, tons of kids there. They play these fighting games. If I’m lying, come back and get your money.” He nodded towards Yekong. “I’m not stupid, just hungry. I wouldn’t lie, especially to her. And if you think people can’t see your vest under that shirt you’re nuts.”
I was surprised. It would be a good guess that any money I gave Gary would be in his arm by the end of the night. I didn’t expect him to notice my vest. It was top of the line and not bulky at all.
“Okay. Walk with us a bit.”
When he pointed out the arcade, we stopped at a Famous Ray’s and I bought him eight slices, a two-liter of soda, and three bottles of water.
They gave him a bag for the drinks and a box for the slices.
“Uh, so, um, the cash?”
“Do you know Hotel 50?”
“On Bowery? Yeah.”
“Give me two hours and then head over. My name is Siobhan Oliviera. They’ll have a room for you for four days. You can charge whatever you want to room service. No alcohol.”
He looked eastward, towards the Bowery. “And, uh, a few dollars, maybe?”
Sighing, I pulled out a twenty and handed it to him. “Hold on to this, okay? Use it for food or something.”
I could have given him more. I could have given him a great deal more, but it wouldn’t have helped him. He thanked us and walked off, and I called Finn. Having a big brother like mine made a lot of things easier. He set up the room.
Yekong touched my arm. “Why did you provide a place to stay for that man?”
“Um, he was homeless. I thought he could get a shower, maybe make some calls to family. Just… I don’t know. Get off the streets for a few days.”
“You are a nice person, Siobhan. I am glad you are Cynthia’s aunt.”
“Yeah, great. Thanks.”
We were about to cross the street and head into the arcade when my phone rang. It was John from the precinct. I was about to deny the call, but answered on a whim.
“Hey, John. I’m sort of in the middle of—”
“Siobhan, I don’t have time. I told them I was taking my lunch and I need to get back.”
“Told who?”
“Just listen. When I went to the bathroom, I saw Detective Flannery talking to Captain Donaghy. All the interview rooms were taken, so they were huddled in a corner. The captain looked extremely angry and as I passed them, I heard your name mentioned. I think they have someone watching you. Be careful.”
“I… Why would they be watching me? And how is a captain from Brighton Beach involved in a case in Chinatown?”
“I don’t know, Shiv. Just be careful, okay? I have to go.” He hung up.
Well, that was bizarre. I went back into the pizzeria and Yekong followed. She seemed willing to follow my lead, which was excellent. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to stop her if she went her own way. I grabbed a slice and watched the foot traffic. Quickly spotting the three guys following us, I wondered if any or all of them were cops.
Finishing the slice, I grabbed two more and gave one to Yekong.
“You are always eating, Siobhan. I do not understand.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a gift. Listen, that was my friend John on the phone. He said the detective and captain were talking about us after we left, and they both gave me the creeps. I don’t remember either of them from my uncle’s funeral. I’m concerned that those guys out there might be cops keeping an eye on us.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So, we should eliminate them?”
“No! Seriously? We shouldn’t ‘eliminate them.’ If they are cops, they might just be doing their job and regardless, we’d be hunted by everyone in the city with a badge. Just… stay alert and if we have to do something, be gentle. Or gentler. Whatever.”
“I see.”
“Have you ever been in an arcade?”
“Yes, in Hong Kong.”
That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. “Okay, well, you know what to expect. Loud noises, flashing lights, kids running around. You ready?”
“Yes. Thank you for the pizza.”
“Um, yeah. You’re welcome. Before we go, can I ask you something?”
She nodded. “You can always ask me questions.”
“Why are you here? After everything that went down you went back to Kentucky, right? You thought you couldn’t be trusted not to hurt people and wanted to get away. What changed?”
Yekong seemed confused. “You asked me to come. Of course I said yes. And Finn said you needed help, that there was danger. He was concerned for you. The two of you helped Alistair. How could I not help someone who helped my brothers and sisters? And there was a child involved.”
She had killed dozens of people in Brazil when her brother, Robert, was shot and died while saving her. Yekong had retreated from the world to ensure that wouldn’t happen again and now was here and acting as if her motivation should be obvious. I shook my head.
“Okay, let’s go.”
I left my change from the pizza on the counter for the young guy serving the slices and we headed across the street. Mott was nowhere near as busy as Canal Street, but it was still hectic. Cars honked, drivers yelled at each other and we were among the pedestrians scurrying across between traffic.
The building was in the middle of the block and was four stories high. A large white sign with red lettering announced the Chinatown Fair Family Fun Center. It looked a little run-down from the sidewalk. I’d imagined something closer to a Dave and Buster’s. As we stepped through the door it felt like we’d entered a new world. The air conditioning was on point and the dinging, clanging and thumping bass wrapped around us, luring us from the mundane city just a few feet behind us.
They had a small area where they sold warm pretzels, hot dogs, slushies, popcorn and candy. Adjacent to the food service were glass cases filled with tchotchkes you could win with tickets from games. Continuing along the walls were traditional old-school games like Skee-Ball, shooting hoops, and driving games.
The interior was filled with rows of video games, dance games and first-person shooters. The Fair was deceptively large and took up the entire first floor of the building. It was mobbed with children who seemed to have the same ability to ignore the presence of adults as adults had to ignore kids.
We did an initial walkthrough and I spotted a few possibilities that turned out not to be Cecelia.
“Siobhan, there—”
“I know. Our three friends are here and four more. The additional four look different. Less stiff.”
“They are not the same.” She pitched her voice low. “Less… orderly. I do not believe the four are police officers.”
“Okay, let’s keep doing our job.”
We did another circuit around the arcade, this time stopping random kids to show them Cecelia’s picture. I was hesitant to offer them anything. As a mother I would lose my mind if an adult were able to interest my daughter with a shiny prize of some sort, but I couldn’t think of an alternative. I held out the allure of filling game cards if someone had information.
We asked a girl who was watching two other kids playing Dance, Dance Revolution. She seemed annoyed by us and gave us a flat no. As we walked away one of the dancers caught up to us, sweaty and tugging on Yekong’s shirt. I immediately stepped forward and gently touched her arm. Yekong looked at me in something like disgust, probably sensing I was concerned about anyone she didn’t know grabbing her or her clothing. Okay, she’d never hurt a kid. Got it. She’d still gone on a murder spree in Brazil, so I was going to be careful.
“Hi. I’m Siobhan. We’re looking for a girl about your age. She was separated from a school trip and is lost. Have you seen her?”
He looked at the photo and then began speaking to Yekong in what I guessed was Chinese.
She turned to me. “The girl was seen by him a few hours ago. She asked him if he had a phone charger she could borrow.”
I smiled for the first time all day. “Where?”
Yekong spoke to him again. He responded and she translated.
“A full Gold card and a large pretzel.”
Rolling my eyes, I took in a deep breath. “Fine. Tell him it’s a deal.”
We walked over to the concession area and filled his card. When we got to the food he spoke to Yekong again.
“He has changed his mind. He wants three pretzels and a slushie. What is a slushie?”
“A frozen drink.” I got him the pretzels and the slushie and threw in a water. “Ask him where.”
She did and translated again.
“The Chatham Square Library on Henry Street. A Marie St. Croix does readings for children there and the girl was listening. He said she looked as if she had been crying.”
“I’m sure she’s scared out of her mind. Okay. Tell him thanks and let’s get going.”
She did and we headed towards the door. As we neared the exit I saw two of the new four that were following us grab the boy and push him into a storage closet.
“Did you see that?”
I didn’t like the expression on her face as Yekong replied. “Yes.”
“Keep everyone out of there. Don’t kill anyone.”
I pushed through the crowd, got to the door and found it locked. Yekong pushed me to the side and slammed her foot against the door. It flung open and I entered. One of the men was watching the door, the other held the boy by the hair.
The one closest to me started yammering something in what I assumed was Chinese. The other one yelled out in English for him to take me out. He tried. The idiot hadn’t even taken off his sunglasses. Stepping forward, he feinted a kick and then a quick jab. I kicked him as hard as I could in the calf of his lead leg, my shin bone slamming into the meat. He stumbled back and when he tried to put weight on the bad leg, stumbled further. I kicked him in the chest. When he bounced against the wall and slid to the floor, I kicked him a third time, this one in the head.
His friend stared at me. “What the hell was that?”
“Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Mostly adapted muay thai. Let the kid go and I won’t kill you.”
“How about you get out of here and I won’t hurt the kid?”
I shook my head. “No deal. How about you let him go and I won’t pull out my gun and shoot you in the head? I’d prefer not to make this messy and loud, but if I have to to save the kid, I will.”
“Bullshit. You don’t have a gun.”
“You’re in the wrong line of work.” I pulled out the H&K. “And I’ve got its twin as well.”
I heard a thump behind me. Turning quickly, I saw Yekong throw a body into the small room with me and close the door again. The man kept looking from the body to me. Keeping calm, I ignored the clutter of mops and cleaning supplies and the smell of disinfectant.
Smiling, I raised my eyebrow. “Friend of yours? That would leave one more in the arcade. I wouldn’t bet on him getting in here to help you. Let the kid go or I’m leaving your brains on the wall.”
He did. I called out as the boy rushed to the door. “Wait for me!”
The man didn’t want to tell me who he worked for. I decided to ask again a little harder. He gave up a couple of names but didn’t know much. He was supposed to watch us and if we found anything out they were supposed to get the same information and call it in. He was run-of-the-mill muscle for low-level protection rackets and keeping drug runners in line.
When I left the storage room Yekong had another body crumpled on the floor between her and the door. The boy was gone. Our original three followers were again in play as we hit the street and began walking to the library.
It always took me time to adjust to being back in the city. Out east things were rural with little pockets of suburbia. If you wanted to get anywhere, you had to be prepared to drive. Like most neighborhoods in Manhattan, Chinatown was narrow but deep. You could walk its expanse quickly but still spend countless hours exploring. Everything was on top of something else and tightly packed together. There was a unique energy of welcoming-but-guarded residents and business owners.
Within a few minutes we were on the street for the Chatham Square Library. It had a different vibe. Everything was newer, the street was wider and it felt more a part of Manhattan than its own idiosyncratic area. The heart of Chinatown was just shy of claustrophobic with narrow streets, crowded sidewalks and decades of cliched expectations looming over you. The library, on the other hand, was large, modern and pristine, like the rest of the area it was found in.
To one side of the library was a gleaming MetroMedic walk-in healthcare facility and next to that was a six-story Asian bank with a blue glass facade and kanji I couldn’t read on the front. The other side of the library had an upscale Asian stationery and bookstore.
Passing under the gargantuan American flag hanging off the front of the library, I used opening the door for Yekong as a pretense to scan for our three followers. I spotted them. They seemed too clean-cut to be enforcers, so my guess was cops. Thinking of my girls, I was depressed to see metal detectors in the foyer.
Children needed to walk through a metal detector to get to a story-time reading by a volunteer. What a fucking world.
From what we gathered from the kid, the reading was scheduled for hours ago. I was hoping that Cecelia would be smart enough to stay put. A library was lit, filled with adults and relatively safe. She could sit and watch the doors while waiting to charge her phone. That’s what I’d hope my daughters would do.
There was a listing of community activities on a wall near the entrance. Running my finger down the listing, I found “Mrs. St. Croix’s StoryTime.” It had been over for almost three hours.
Yekong had been scoping things out. “Three floors. No balconies, each floor enclosed. Stairs at back left are open but there is no angle for firing due to bookshelves. Elevator is to our right. Children’s section straight back. There is no obvious security.”
I nodded and we headed to the children’s section. When Yekong went through the scanner I surreptitiously used my foot to unplug it. I waltzed through a moment later. The library was large, but not by New York City standards. There were people in comfortable chairs reading, kids on computers, private rooms to the side, and librarians behind counters along the left wall.
In the children’s section an old woman with a cane was sitting on a normal-size chair that was surrounded by a semicircle of smaller chairs. A college-aged kid was breaking down an easel. The woman gesticulated with her cane as she lectured the young man, pointing to a large leather bag.
“Pack it between the pieces of cardboard so it doesn’t curl.”
“Yes, Aunt Marie. I’ll be very careful, as this is the first time I’ve ever done this. It’s not like you’ve dragooned me into helping you every week since I was ten. Please, explain again how I should pack things up.”
She swatted him in the butt with her cane, but was smiling.
“The smart mouth on you. Respect your elders.”
There didn’t seem to be any vanity in this woman. The photo on the poster hadn’t been touched up. It showed every wrinkle on her rich brown face, and the one eye that was covered in what I guessed was cataracts. She tilted her head towards us, peering with her good eye.
“Ladies, are you here to see me?”
Her nephew had a Caribbean accent that was much thicker than hers. I wasn’t good enough to tell what island it was from. Hell, I didn’t even know if the accents differed.
“Um, yes, ma’am. My friend is Yekong and I’m Siobhan. We were wondering if this girl was at your reading today?”
Taking out my phone, I showed her Cecelia’s photo.
“Such pretty names. And unusual. What’s your last name, dear?”
“Oliviera.”
She nodded. “My friend had a niece named Siobhan. Different last name. I’m sorry, but lots of children come to the readings and my eyesight isn’t what it used to be.”
“Understood. Thank you for your time.”
I turned to her nephew. “Excuse me, I was wondering—”
The old woman tapped my leg with her cane. “Why are you asking about this girl?”
“She was on a school field trip, got separated and we’re trying to find her.”
“Why aren’t her parents here? This seems peculiar, if you don’t mind me saying. You’re a rather intimidating young woman and your friend isn’t right.” The old woman tilted her blind eye towards Yekong. “She isn’t normal. She is… extra.”
Turning to face her full on, I stared for a second. “What does extra mean?”
