Gridiron

'Several,' said Mitch.

'Can you have one close in on those kids outside right now?'

'Nothing easier,' said Beech.

They trooped back into the computer room. Beech sat down and touched a picture of a video camera at the bottom of his screen. The camera was soon scanning the faces of no more than a dozen Chinese men and women.

'Beats me why they bother,' said Beech.

'It's a free country,' said Curtis, 'although you'd hardly know it inside this place.'

Beech shot Curtis a quizzical look, as if wondering why someone as liberal as him should be working for the LAPD.

'That guy there,' said Mitch. 'The one will the bullhorn. That's the guy in the picture, isn't it?'

Curtis compared the hard copy with the young Chinese on the screen.

'Yeah. That's him all right.'

'Kind of weird him coming back, isn't it?' said Mitch. 'Assuming he did have something to do with it.'

'Not as weird as you might suppose,' said Curtis. 'Besides, that's still a hell of an assumption.'

'What are you going to do?'

'Talk to the guy. See what he's got to say. Who knows? Maybe he'll put up his hands.'

-###-

The cop patrolling the demo already looked tired, although it was only just eleven o'clock. Curtis showed him his badge and then, taking him by the elbow, led him a few yards away.

'You heard about what happened inside?'

'Guy with his head stove in? I heard.'

'How long have you had this duty?'

'On and off, a couple of weeks. 'Bout a four-hour shift.' He shrugged.

'It's not so bad. They don't give me any trouble. I've spoken to a few of them. Most are pretty OK.'

'Would you say they were the types to get involved in a homicide?'

The cop grinned and shook his head. 'Naw. They're students with rich daddies back home in Hong Kong and places like that. I think they'd run a mile from any real trouble.'

Curtis walked back towards them.

'Who's in charge here?'

Behind the barrier, the little band of Chinese protesters stayed quiet, but Curtis noticed that their eyes moved from his badge to the man with the bullhorn. His own eyes took in the slogans on their placards: REMEMBER TIANANMEN SQUARE; and, Yu CORP SANCTIONS

STATE MURDER; and, Yu CORP PROFITS FROM SLAVERY; and, YUMAN RIGHTS ABUSE.

'Come on,' he urged. 'There must be someone.'

'Well,' said the man with the bullhorn, 'I guess you could say I am, kind of.'

'I'm Detective Sergeant Curtis, LAPD Homicide Bureau. Could I talk to you a minute? Let's step out of the sun.' He pointed across the piazza to the edge of Hope Street.

'Hot day,' he said. And then, 'It's about an incident in the Yu Corporation building last night.'

'Another one?' Cheng Peng Fei smiled thinly.

'Someone was killed.'

'That's too bad. Nobody junior, I hope.'

'You approve?'

'If it was Yu himself then that would be good news. The man is a gangster.'

'I was wondering what time you and your people left the piazza last night. Maybe you saw something.'

'About five o'clock. Same as usual.'

'I'm sorry, you are — '

'My name is Cheng Peng Fei.'

'Where are you from, son?'

'Hong Kong. I'm a visa student at UCLA.'

'And your friends? Are they mostly students?'

'Mostly, yes.'

'Did you ever run across the security guard at the Yu building? Big guy. Black.'

'Is that the man who's dead?'

'Yes, it is.'

Cheng Peng Fei shook his head.

'We've seen him. That's all. There's another guard too, isn't there?

Mean looking whitey. We've seen rather more of him.'

'You ever go inside the building?'

'We have thought about it, but we'd probably get busted. So we just stay beside our fountain handing out leaflets, that kind of thing.'

'It was sure different in my day,' said Curtis as they neared the corner of Fifth.

A bum pushing a shopping cart paused briefly to collect a cigarette butt off the sidewalk before continuing in the direction of Wilshire. A tall black man wearing grimy Nike Air Jordans, track-suit pants and a baseball cap coming the opposite way was forced to side-step the cart and stopped to curse the bum before continuing on his way.

'When I was a kid a protest really was a protest.'

'What were you protesting about?'

'There was only one thing people protested about back in those days: Vietnam.'

'Better than going there, I guess.'

'Oh, I went. It was when I came back I got involved. What exactly is your beef with the Yu Corp?'

Cheng Peng Fei handed over a leaflet.

'Here, this'll explain everything.'

Curtis stopped, glanced over the bill and put it in his coat pocket. Then he nodded towards an advertising boarding on a shelter for the DASH, the Downtown Area Short Hop bus service. The ad showed a handshake between two disembodied arms, one of them wearing the uniform of the LAPD. The headline read:

As partners

LAPD

AND YOU

CAN BE A

LETHAL WEAPON

2

FIGHT CRIME

Cheng Peng Fei was bright enough to understand what Curtis was suggesting. He shrugged and shook his head.

'Really, if I knew something I'd tell you, Sergeant, but I can't help you.'

He was shorter than Curtis by a head and, at a hundred and twelve pounds, just over half as heavy. Curtis placed himself in front of Cheng, close enough to have kissed him, and regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and contempt.

'What are you doing?' said Cheng. Trying to retreat he found himself pressed up against the wall on the corner of Fifth and Hope.

'I'm just trying to see inside your inscrutable little head,' said Curtis, holding him firmly by the shoulders. 'So that I'll know why you're lying to me.'

'What the fuck are you talking about, man?'

'Now you're absolutely certain you never met Sam Gleig?'

'Sure I'm sure. I never even heard his name until now.' Cheng started to curse the policeman in Chinese.

'You ever heard of Miranda, college boy?'

'Miranda who?'

'Miranda vs. the State of Arizona, that's who. Fifth Amendment stuff. Guidelines that include informing arrested persons prior to questioning that they have the right to remain silent — '

'You're arresting me? For what?'

Curtis turned Cheng around and handcuffed one hand expertly.

'- anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. And that you have the right to an attorney.'

'What is this? You're crazy.'

'These are your rights, schmuck. Now, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to cuff you to the streetlight there and then go and collect my car and come back and pick you up. I'd go back there with you, only I figure it might inflame some of your friends to see you being arrested and I'm sure you wouldn't want to cause any trouble. Not to mention the embarrassment you might experience. This way you're only going to be embarrassed in front of a few passing strangers.'

Curtis hauled Cheng's thin arm around the streetlight and snapped on the other manacle.

'You're fucking crazy.'

'Besides, while I'm gone it'll give you a little time to reflect on that story of yours. Time to reflect. Time to think of another.' Curtis looked at his watch. 'I'll be back in five minutes. Ten at the most.' He pointed up at the Gridiron that loomed over them, reducing the surrounding buildings to visual insignificance. 'Anyone asks, you just stopped to admire the architecture.'

'Bullshit.'

'Now, there I have to agree with you, Cheng boy.'

-###-

'The tape's running, Frank.'

Cheng Peng Fei glanced around the video room at New Parker Center.