S. J. Rozan - Reflecting the Sky
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- Book:Reflecting the Sky
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- Year:2002
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Reflecting the Sky: summary, description and annotation
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S. J. Rozan is widely regarded as one of the finest crime writers to emerge in the past decade. Praised by critics and colleagues alike, her works have been finalists for most of the major awards and have won both the Shamus and the Anthony Awards for Best Novel. Now, with Reflecting the Sky, she has written her finest, most broad-ranging novel to date.Lydia Chin, a Chinese-American private investigator in her late twenties, is hired by Grandfather Gao, one of the most respected figures in New York Citys Chinatown, for what appears to be a simple task. Lydia, along with her professional partner Bill Smith, is to fly to Hong Kong to deliver a family heirloom to the young grandson of a recently deceased colleague of Grandfather Gao. They arrive in Hong Kong safely but before they can deliver the heirloom, the grandson is kidnapped and two, separate ransom demands are made. While the family of the kidnapped boy tries to freeze them out, Lydia and Bill must quickly learn their way around a place where the rules are different, the stakes are high, and the cost of failure is too dire to imagine. Reflecting the Sky is a 2002 Edgar Award Nominee for Best Novel.
S. J. Rozan: author's other books
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Table of Contents
sadly,
for my mother
for my mother
thank you to:
Steve Axelrod, my agent
Keith Kahla, my editor
who have no crows on their roofs
Keith Kahla, my editor
who have no crows on their roofs
Susanna Bergtold, Nancy Ennis, Sui-Ling Tsang, and Jill Weber
who were there in person
who were there in person
Richard (the Muse) Wilcox
who was there in spirit
who was there in spirit
Denise Bigo, John Douglas, Jennifer Jaffe, Tina Meyerhoff,
Larry Pontillo, and Tom Savage
who know the truth about swiftly running water
Larry Pontillo, and Tom Savage
who know the truth about swiftly running water
Charles Doherty
who is one of the gifts of Hong Kong
who is one of the gifts of Hong Kong
Steve Blier, Hillary Brown, Monty Freeman, Max Rudin,
Jim Russell, and Amy Schatz
who will take on any body of water
Jim Russell, and Amy Schatz
who will take on any body of water
Betsy Harding, Royal Huber, Barbara Martin, Jamie Scott,
and Keith Snyder
who will take on any body of words
and Keith Snyder
who will take on any body of words
Doreen and Jonathan Chou,
Edna Quan and Anthony Siu,
Sandra Gong and Victor Sloan,
Howard and Marilyn Smith,
and the HKPDs Jean Chan Sui-mui
who could not have been more generous
Edna Quan and Anthony Siu,
Sandra Gong and Victor Sloan,
Howard and Marilyn Smith,
and the HKPDs Jean Chan Sui-mui
who could not have been more generous
and
hghnola and spencyr
who
who
Damp, soupy heat washed over me as I pushed out through the revolving door. The bright morning glare was already hazed up by the shimmering exhaust of a river of cars, buses, and trucks. I looked left, looked right, got my bearings, and headed briskly down the sidewalk.
Come on ! I turned to yell to my partner, Bill Smith, who still stood, looking a little groggy, his hands in his pockets, just gazing around. Relive your misspent youth some other time! I dont want to be late.
With muttered words I was just as happy not to hear, he lurched down the sidewalk after me. Jostling, rushing pedestrians, many of them yelling into their cell phones, hurried past in both directions, making me feel like I had to work to keep my footing or Id be tossed on their tide and swept away. Bill caught up to me as I stopped at the first corner, waiting with a crowd eight deep for the light to change.
Late is extremely unlikely, he grumbled, taking advantage of the momentary halt in our forward charge to light a cigarette. Impolitely early, maybe. Were twenty-five minutes ahead of even your obsessive-compulsive schedule. Will you slow down? And how do you know where youre going? I thought I was supposed to be your native guide.
I dont know what youre supposed to be doing, I said as the light turned green and the crowd surged forward, but it cant be guiding me around a place you havent been in for twenty years.
A horn blasted as the last stragglers from our pedestrian stream leaped up onto the curb to avoid being mashed by a bus. The hiss and rumble of tires, the squeal of bus brakes, and the endless rattle of jackhammers from nearby construction made conversation difficult, but I was too keyed up to talk, anyway. The wind shifted, stirring the smells of diesel fuel and salt water into the scents of softened asphalt and frying pork already thick in the air. They were exciting smells, and it was an exciting morning, all the rushing, rumbling, surging, and yelling in the brightness. Though I didnt see, really, why I should be so affected by it. Ive spent my entire life negotiating traffic, noise, glare, and sidewalks. Im Lydia Chin, born and raised in Chinatown, a genuine native New Yorker.
Of course, this wasnt New York. This was Hong Kong, City of Life.
Life, pork, exhaust, and pedestrians. Bill matched his pace to mine and we hurried down the sidewalk in the sticky heat. Being from Chinatown, I was better at this business of threading through dense, moving crowds of Chinese people than he was, though the streams on the sidewalks of home had never flowed this fast. We kept being separated, coming together, getting pushed apart again. But we both knew where we were goinghe because he had been here before, on R and R leaves in the navy; me because I had been studying maps for a weekand we ended up together and exactly where we wanted to be, at the turnstiles of the Star Ferry.
At which point I glanced at my watch, and then, because I know my watch, at his. Wait, I said. As you so accurately, although crabbily, pointed out, were still early. The ferries run every eight minutes. Lets take the next one. I want to see.
He raised his eyebrows and sighed theatrically, but I didnt care. Leaving him to follow, I zipped past the English-language bookstore, the Japanese snack shop, the newspaper vendors and the public bathrooms. The ferry terminal buildings gave way to an open promenade with a railing, and suddenly there was the Hong Kong skyline shining across the harbor.
It was as though someone had unrolled New York, slapped it with dozens of huge, neon brand-name signs visible even in the hazy sunshine, and spread it against a backdrop of mountains along a waterfront so long I had to turn my head way to the left and then way to the right to see the ends of it. Water sparkled in the sun, lapping against the seawall we were standing on. The frothy wakes churned up by barges, fishing boats, great white yachts, and tiny green sampans heading both ways through the harbor crisscrossed the trails of ferries plowing back and forth across it, from Hong Kong Island, where we were going, to the tip of the Kowloon Peninsula, where we were. The ferry wed almost taken tooted its horn as it nosed out of its berth, and from way off to the right came a much deeper sound, some other horn saying something in the universal language of ships.
Close your mouth, Bill said. People will know youre a tourist.
Im not a tourist. Were here on business. And why didnt you tell me it was this huge ?
He gazed across the harbor. When I was here, it ended about there. He pointed with both hands at the limits of a much shorter waterfront. And none of the biggest skyscrapers were there, and neither was that. That was a low, swoopy building, all metallic curves and wings, shining in the sun, right in the center, right on the water. But the impression was the same. I stood there with my mouth open, too.
My mouth is not open. Im Lydia Chin. Stuff like this doesnt impress me, I said, unable to take my eyes from the view across the water.
I know, Bill said. Thats one of your best characteristics, how hard you are to impress. He looked at his watch. Now were right on schedule. Wed better go, or we actually will be late, and youll blame me.
Well, itll be your fault, I said, tearing myself away from the skyline, turning to hurry back to the ferry. Youre the one with the good watch.
Maybe thats why Im here, Bill said as we dropped our ridged coins in the ferry turnstile and headed with the rest of the crowd up the stairs. Because I have a watch that works.
Thats an expensive timekeeper. I trotted down the wooden ramp onto the boat and took a seat at the very front so I could see us sail across the harbor. A business-class ticket and a week in a fancy hotel? It would have been cheaper for Grandfather Gao to buy me a Rolex.
Or he could have put me in the same hotel room as you. That would have saved him a bundle. In fact, maybe we have a fiduciary duty to our client
I gave his fiduciary duty a dirty look and turned back to the opposite shore; we had started to move.
As the harbor breeze blew my hair around, I watched the edges of the skyline sharpen out of the haze. The buildings grew larger and Bill sat silent beside me, watching them too. It really wasnt clear to either of us why he was here. It wasnt, actually, clear to me why either of us was here.
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