S. J. Rozan - On the Line

ON THE LINE

ALSO BY S. J. ROZAN

THE LYDIA CHIN/BILL SMITH NOVELS

China Trade

Concourse

Mandarin Plaid

No Colder Place

A Bitter Feast

Stone Quarry

Reflecting the Sky

Winter and Night

The Shanghai Moon

Absent Friends

In This Rain

S. J. ROZAN

MINOTAUR BOOKS NEW YORK

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

ON THE LINE. Copyright 2010 by S. J. Rozan. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

ISBN 978-0-312-54449-2

First Edition: October 2010

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Bennie

My agent, Steve Axelrod

My editor, Keith Kahla

Betsy Harding, Royal Huber, and Tom Savage, for setting me on the right track

Pat Picciarelli, for keeping me out of trouble

Steve Blier, Hillary Brown, Monty Freeman, Max Rudin, James Russell, and Amy Schatz, for years of weekends

David Dubal, for inspiration

Jonathan Santlofer, for support

Nancy Ennis, for coffee

Tom Savage, again, for his way with names

Ed King and Tom Phillips, the worlds best runners-up

ON THE LINE

Crashing dark chords smothered the cell phones impertinent chirp, but the ringtone was Ride of the Valkyries, so it penetrated, and I stopped. I was learning a Brahms sonata. After weeks it had started to come together into something I could feel good about. So good that I was up working on it at what is, for me, early morning: half-past eight, with a mug of powerful black coffee, and a big, bright, late fall morning beyond the windows.

I hate interruptions when Im at the piano; hate them so much, I used to turn the phone off. Now, though, I just ignore it if it rings. Except for this one number, the reason I leave it on. I leaned from the piano bench, grinning, and reached for the phone, which was still squeaking out those opening Valkyrie notes. In my world, Wagner only trumps Brahms when Wagner means Lydia Chin.

Hey, I said. Whats up?

Silence, unlike Lydia; and an odd tone to it. Then she said, Nothing good.

Those two words contained darkness: anger, fear, and something else. Warning? My skin went cold. What does that mean?

The answer didnt come from Lydia. It came from a different voice, relaxed and mocking in rhythm, but inhuman in tone: thin, robotic. Deliberately, electronically altered. It means, asshole, your girlfriend got jacked.

I was on my feet, heart pounding. What the Who are you?

Come on, you dont know me?

Whats going on?

Jesus Christ! You fucked up so many guys you cant keep track!

Who are you? What do you want?

No. In a flash, joviality gone, the metallic voice dropped. Its what you want. You want your girlfriend to live. Or am I wrong?

Youre right, and

Then find her. Its a game, get it? You find her, she lives. You dont, she dies. You following that?

Whoever the hell you are, leave her alone. You have business with me, bring it on.

Its on, buddy boy. And if I were you Id get down to it.

Get down to what?

What did I just say?

How am I supposed to find her?

Well, lucky for you, Im going to help. Clues, evidence, all that shit. I know you like that shit. So well have fun. Now get going.

No. This is bullshit.

Then your girlfriend dies.

How do I know shes not dead already?

You just talked to her!

I heard two words from a woman, and you have Lydias phone. Thats all I know.

Jesus, look! The son of a bitch is in the game already! Instant offense, whoa, I like that. Okay, good, Ill go along. Here, sweetie. Talk to him.

Bill? It was Lydia, which Id known, rock solid, from those first two words.

Are you okay?

So far. I dont know whats going on, though.

Stay cool. Ill find you.

I know you will. But Bill? I dont want my mother to worry. Looks like Tony, his birthday party, looks like Ill miss it. She stumbled over her words. If I dont show up hell call the apartment. Could you make some excuse? He already thinks Im a ditz. Tell him hell have to get a little older without me.

Aw. The robot voice sliced back in, dripping acid. How sweet is that? Doesnt want her mama to worry. Well, her mamas gonna have lots to worry about, you dont get your ass in gear.

I spun, stared wildly around the room, as though he might materialize and I could lunge for him. Forcing myself still, I said, I want to talk to her.

Sorry, you just did. One to a customer.

As this bullshit unfolds, whatever it is.

And by bullshit, you mean... ?

This insanity! Your so-called game!

Insanity? So-called? Oh, man, wheres your sportsmanship? Respect for the opponent, all that. You know, maybe I dont want to play with you after all. Nah, on second thought, forget it. Of course, that means I pop your girlfriend. But I guess you dont care. So long, sucker.

The line went dead.

My heart had been speeding. Now it stopped. My breathing, my power to move, it all stopped. What the hell had I done? Played chicken with a madman, and lost. Lost Lydia. I stood rooted, for a second, an hour, a lifetime.

No! The words I couldnt get out crashed around inside my skull. Not like this! This cant be how it ends. Do something. Theres got to be

The phone, Lydias music, rang again.

Lydia? Are you

The robot voice: Not her. Me. You in or out?

Goddamn you

Smith?

Screw you, you bastard, Im in. I realized I was soaked in sweat. You think this is a goddamn game, Ill play. I took a breath, and did it again: But only if I can talk to Lydia. So I know shes all right. You touch her, you motherfucker, Ill kill you.

Oh, oh, listen to him! Big man! Know what, I really should forget the game and kill her right now. What could you do about it? What, asshole? But Ill give you a chance. Ill play fair.

I talk to her. And you dont touch her. I dug in, praying my instincts were right. Or I dont play.

Are you listening? Whos in charge here? You dont find her, she dies. And you know what? You dont play, I hurt her a lot and then she dies.

Thats your rules. My rules, as long as Im playing, you dont touch her, and I talk to her.

A hell of a gamble, going head-to-head with him like this. I didnt know who he was or what was going on. But if what he wanted was to kill Lydia he could have done that already, and he hadnt. This game mattered to him.

Hmm, he finally said. Okay, why not? But my rules: not whenever you want. You dont get what you want in life, do you? Fuck knows I didnt. Which would be your fault, motherfucker, if you remember.

I dont remember. Tell me.

No way! This is awesome! Oh, hey, did I mention you have twelve hours? A games no fun without a clock. But we dont need no stinkin refs. Cops come, cops even think about coming, shes toast. I mean it, motherfucker. First badge I see, pow pow pow! You got the rules?

And I talk to her.

When you do something right. Like a reward. Oh, I love that! Yeah, good. Ill call you. But if youre thinking she can coach, fuggedabahdit. She has no idea where she is. And her phone, now that we got your attention, its trashed. I mean, you dont think Im that stupid?