ericlustbader.the ninja-第105部分

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　the　whites　all　round。　She　might　have　been　a　madwoman　and　he　saw　why。
　Upside　down；　Philip　looked　at　him　reproachfully；　tongue　〃half　bitten　through　between　his　teeth。
　The　screaming　seemed　to　go　on　and　on　in　cadence；　as　effective　as　a　siren。
　'There's　another　way；'　Nicholas　had　said。　'A　better　way。'　He　dipped　half　a　dumpling　into　its　dark　brown　spicy　sauce；　popped　it　into　his　mouth。　'I　don't　want　any　of　your　men　getting　hurt。'
　Croaker　looked　at　him　quizzically。　'You're　a　strange　bird；　you　know　that？　It's　what　we　get　paid　for；　us　cops　…　taking　risks。'
　They　were　in　a　dumpling　house　on　Elizabeth　Street　between　Canal　and　Bayard。　The　place　was　crowded；　the　noise　level　high。
　'Reasonable　risks；'　Nicholas　pointed　out。　'The　ninja's　a　sorcerer　of　death。　They're　not　going　to　be　prepared　for　him。'
　'Aren't　you　being　just　a　little　bit　melodramatic？'
　'No。'
　Croaker　put　down　his　chopsticks；　pushed　his　plate　away　from　him。　A　waiter　immediately　came　to　clear　it　away。　'All　right。　What's　your　idea？'
　'Let　me　go　in　alone。'
　'You're　nuts。'　He　levelled　a　finger。　'Let　me　tell　you　something；　Nick。　This　is　a　police　operation。　You　know　what　that　means？　I　could　be　suspended　just　for　taking　you　along。　And　you　want　me　to　let　you　go　after　him　on　your　own？　The　missioner　would　publicly　string　up　any　part　of　me　left　intact　after　Finnigan；　my　captain；　had　got　through。　Uh…uh。　You'll　just　have　to　be　content　with　the　way　it　is　now。〃　'You　and　me　then。'
　'No　dice。　That　would　mean　I'd　have　to　leave　you　to　cover　the　rear。　Can't　do　it。
　'There's　going　to　be　trouble；　then。'
　'Not　if　we　contain　him　in　Ah　Ma's。　That's　what　we've　got　to　do。'
　What　worried　him　most　in　those　last　few　moments　as　they　had　climbed　the　steps　to　Ah　Ma's　was　the　tactical　disadvantage　they　were　under。　True；　the　element　of　surprise　was　in　their　favour；　but　only　the　man　up　in　that　suite　knew　the　layout　of　the　place；　including　the　number　of　exits。　Nicholas　did　not　like　any　part　of　it。
　On　the　first　landing；　he　stopped　Croaker；　said；　'You　know；　if　we　don't　get　him　within　the　first　few　seconds；　we've　had　it。'
　'Just　concentrate　on　getting　the　bastard；'　Croaker　had　said　and　started　up　to　Ah　Ma's　door。
　Crouching　in　the　dim　hallway；　Croaker　had　his　。38　in　one　hand；　the　warrant　in　the　other。　That　piece　of　paper　had　not　been　easy　to　obtain；　Ah　Ma　had　many　influential　friends。
　Somewhere　behind　them　the　intermittent　buzz　of　a　defective　light…fixture。　A　car　passed　in　the　street　outside；　honking　its　horn。　The　clatter　of　running　feet。　A　sharp　abrasive　laugh。
　Then　the　door　was　opening；　Croaker　was　pushing　aside　a　tall；　elegant　Chinese　woman。　The　warrant　flew　through　the　air　like　a　broken　bird。
　And　Nicholas　saw　it　all　before　him　as　if　in　a　film。　The　killings；　one　by　one；　like　links　in　a　chain。　One　chain。　Terry's　historical　clues。　Three　signposts：　Hideoshi；　Yodogimi；　Mitsunari；　as　obvious　now　as　if　they　were　glowing　neon。　Satsugai；　Yukio；　Saigo。　The　policeman　sent　to　guard　the　dead　Shogun's　mistress；　a　close　enough　approximation。
　Idiot！　he　thought　savagely　as　he　stumbled　into　Ah　Ma's　after　Croaker。　Why　did　I　withhold　it　from　myself？
　An　American　man；　eyes　wide　in　terror；　stood　up　awkwardly；　dumping　a　tiny　Chinese　woman　onto　the　floor。　He　ran　from　them；　through　one　of　the　living　rooms；　into　a　side　suite。
　Croaker　was　already　midway　down　the　long　corridor　leading　to　the　back　suites。　Flower；　who　had　opened　the　door　to　them；　had　been　calling　for　Ah　Ma。　She　was　calm　even　in　this　seeming　crisis。
　Ah　Ma　appeared　just　as　Nicholas　began　following　Croaker　back　through　the　place。
　'What　is　the　meaning　of　this？'　She　grabbed　at　Nicholas。　'How　dare　you　break　into　my　apartment？　I　have　many　friends　who　will　…'
　'The　Japanese；'　Nicholas　said　in　perfect　Mandarin。　Ah　Ma　started。　She　was　borne　along　as　he　rushed　through　the　long　corridor。　'Where　is　he？'　Nicholas　said。　'He　is　all　we　want。'　He　turned　his　head　slightly。　Doors　passed　them　up；　half…open；　empty　rooms　lurking；　mockingly。　'Are　you　Ah　Ma？'　Noise　up　ahead。　Croaker　kicking　at　a　locked　door。
　'He　will　destroy　the　place！'　Ah　Ma　cried。　She　thought　of　the　munists　ing　in　the　dead　of　night；　destroying　the　house　before　dragging　out　her　husband。　But　this　was　America。
　Nicholas　perceived　her　agitation。　'The　Japanese　is　a　very　dangerous　man；　Ah　Ma。　He　could　hurt　your　girls。'
　This　she　understood　immediately　and　she　fell　silent；　looking　at　him。
　'Where　is　he？'
　〃There。　There。　Take　him　then。'
　He　broke　away　from　her；　calling；　'The　left　one。　The　left　I'
　Croaker　swivelled；　put　a　shot　through　the　lock　on　the　left…hand　door。　He　went　in　with　his　shoulder　and　that　was　when　the　screaming　began。
　A　blur　of　movement　and　Nicholas　instinctively　threw　his　arm　across　his　eyes。
　Flash　of　light；　blue…white。　The　stink　of　cordite。
　Croaker　reeled　and；　running；　Nicholas　saw　the　last　of　a　leg　and　shoe　disappear　through　the　open　window。　…
　'Christ　Jesus！'
　He　turned。　Croaker　had　one　hand　over　his　eyes。
　'What　happened？'　His　voice　seemed　hoarse。
　'Flash　bomb；'　Nicholas　said。　'A　miniature。'
　Noise　from　the　corridor；　quickening。
　'He's　gone；　Croaker。　Out　of　the　rear　window。〃
　Patrolman　Tony　DeLong　received　his　final　instructions　from　Lieutenant　Croaker　via　the　two…way　radio　and　drove　the　blue…and…white　slowly　along　the　length　of　Pell　Street。
　'There　it　is；'　said　Sandy　Binghamton；　his　partner。　'Pull　over。'　DeLong　doused　the　lights；　parked　the　car　on　a　diagonal；　blocking　the　street。　It　served　a　dual　purpose。　It　would　help　keep　the　suspect　within　their　perimeter　if　he　came　out　at　the　back　of　the　building　and　it　would　discourage　civilians　from　poking　their　noses　into　a　potential　red　sector。
　Binghamton　was　out　first；　swinging　his　big　black　bulk　around　the　right　side　of　the　slewed　patrol　car。　He　paused；　one　hand　on　the　chrome；　and　turned　his　head　back　towards　the　beginning　of　Pell　Street。　DeLong；　still　in　the　blue…and…white；　was　at　this　moment　in　radio　contact　with　the　second　car　but　Binghamton　wanted　a　visual　fix。　Civilian　infiltration　could　be　disastrous　at　this　point　and　curiosity　was　a　powerful　motivator。　He　took　his　cap　off；　wiped　his　forehead　on　the　sleeve　of　his　uniform。　He　turned　back；　studying　the　configuration　of　the　end　of　the　street；　the　specifics　of　the　target　building。
　DeLong　shut　down　the　radio　and　came　out　into　the　street　and　together　they　melted　into　the　deep　shadows　thrown　by　the　architecture　on　either　side。　The　Lieutenant　had　been　quite　insistent　on　this　score。　No　sound　and　no　sight。　He　watched　the　line　of　windows　three　storeys　up　and　thought　about　this。　It　was
　an　unusual　procedure　where　more　than　one　blue…and…white　was　being　used。　But　DeLong　had　no　worries。　He　had　faith　in　the　Lieutenant。　He　had　worked　with　him　for　just　under　a　year　and　a　half　and　was　now　virtually　assured；　the　next　time　the　exam　was　given；　of　making　sergeant。　He　wanted　that　very　badly。　He　had　had　enough　of　the　uniform　division　and　now　he　longed　for　a　permanent　assignment　to　a　detective　squad。　There；　too；　the　Lieutenant　could　help　him。　And　the　extra　money　would　e　in　handy　now　that　Denise　was　due。
　He　felt　Binghamton's　bulk　reassuringly　near　him。　They　were　old　partners　and　this　was　his　lone　regret　in　moving　up。　He　did　not　want　to　break　up　a　partnership　that　had　been　so　successful。　But　Sandy　had　no　desire　to　bee　a　detective。　He　was　content　to　be　on　the　street　with　the　people；　'It's　where　I　belong；　man；'　he　had　told　DeLong　often　enough。　'I　don't　want　to　be　no　desk　jockey。'　It　was　just　that　they　conceived　of　the　same　job　in　different　ways。　Lieutenant　Croaker's　life　wasn't　filled　with　paper　work　but　he　could　not　convince　Sandy　of　that。　Once　the　big　man　had　made　up　his　mind　about　something；　it　took　the　devil's　own…
　Binghamton　nudged　him　but　he　had　already　seen　it。　A　hot　flash　of　intense　light；　followed　by　a　surprisingly　soft　phutt。
　'Trouble　maybe；'　DeLong　said。　They　both　drew　their　weapons；　crouched　in　darkness；　waiting　tensely。
　Movement　at　the　windows；　flickerings　like　a　children's　shadow　play。
　'Get　ready。'　Binghamton's　voice　was　a　basso　rumble。　'I　gotta　believe　he's　on　his　way　out。'
　DeLong　nodded　and；　together；　they　began　to　edge　closer　to　the　rear　of　the　building。　They　moved　as　quietly　as　they　could；　keeping　to　the　shad