I cut left to get to the van and ran head-on into the arms of the two punks that had been at the door of the brothel the day before. One of them grabbed me in a grip that pinned my arms. I could feel my feet leaving the ground. My legs just waved in the air as the grip around my chest tightened.
I could feel the breath squeezed out of me, and I couldn’t get air back in. Everything was going from color to black-and-white. My only conscious thought was of the pain that meant that in another instant ribs would start cracking.
Just before that instant, everything came loose. As fast as I was gripped, I was released. I heard the sound of Harry’s slicing hand on his neck just before I dropped to the ground like a rock. The kid who had the grip fell to the ground beside me. I lurched away from him, but I could see he was unconscious.
I saw Harry standing behind him. Harry spun around to square off for combat with the other punk.
Harry shouted, “Get out of here, Mike!”
I ran for the van.
Fortunately I had left the keys in it for a quick start. I pulled up to the sidewalk beside the shop. I saw Harry exchanging open-fist blows with the second boy. I knew he was in no condition to take on the Karate Kid. I jumped out of the van to help.
Harry yelled, “Get back in the van!”
I was torn between the two, but Harry yelled, “Do what I said, Michael!”
At that moment, Harry took a step back and dropped his arms to his sides with his hands behind his back. He stood still and waited.
The young enforcer froze in confusion for an instant, then seized the moment. He drove in close enough to go for a chop to the base of Harry’s neck. Harry’s hands moved so fast I could hardly see them. He twisted left so the blow glanced off his shoulder. In the same fraction of an instant he grabbed the top of the coat of the attacker in his right fist. He pulled it open with the right while he stuffed something inside with the left. Meanwhile the kid used his position to chop away at Harry’s ribs.
Orders or not, I was about to bolt for the neck of the kid when there was an explosion that sounded like a muffled stick of dynamite. The kid was blown halfway across the street.
Harry half-straightened up, clutching his ribs. He was heading for the van, when I caught sight of three more punks of the same cut as the two Harry had just leveled coming at a full charge down the sidewalk. They were at twenty-five yards and closing. I rammed the van into first and floored it. I swerved around Harry onto the sidewalk and played the three like making an easy spare. They jumped, but I made enough contact to put them out of commission.
I threw the van into reverse and backed up to the shop. Harry pulled open the back hatch. He grabbed the arm of the old woman who had been following close behind and practically threw her into the back of the van before jumping in himself. I floored it again-this time on the street.
We made two right turns on the left two tires and one left turn on the right two tires before I let up on the gas. I brought it down to cruising speed once we were clear of Chinatown.
I headed south, as we’d planned. When we stopped at the next light I checked the backseat. Mei-Li had pulled off the gray wig and bulky clothes that had turned her into an old lady. She had found them in the aisle at the back of the grocery shop where Harry had set them down in the shopping bag he brought in. She was able to slip into the back room long enough to age forty or fifty years.
I yelled back, “Stay down, Mei-Li. Just in case.”
I looked over at Harry, who was leaning heavily to his right. “You OK, Harry?”
He let out the breath he was holding. His voice sounded strained. “Why do they always go for the ribs? I’ll be all right. Keep moving.”
“My every wish. What did you drop in that kid’s jacket? It blew him halfway to Montreal.”
“I kept a couple of cherry bombs from the fireworks box. I thought they might be useful.”
I just whistled at the thought.
WE DROVE ALONG an open roadway south and west of Toronto along Lake Ontario. I found the small motel in a lakeside village where I’d made a reservation the night before.
I went in and registered in my name while Mei-Li got back in costume. I hustled her into the motel room while Harry rested his ribs in the front seat of the van. I’d bought a few things for her for overnight, since I knew she’d be traveling fast and light. I left some money for meals through the next day.
She was obviously still shaken by the escape, but she seemed to have no injuries or regrets.
“I’ll be back for you tomorrow sometime, Mei-Li. Stay in the room till I get here. You can order out for lunch and dinner from the pizza shop. Just don’t call a Chinese restaurant. I’ll give you a call tonight to see if you’re all right. Here’s the number at my office if you need me. Don’t speak to anyone else. You understand?”
“Yes. Will you be seeing Anthony?”
“I don’t know. Time’s short.”
“If you see him, would you tell him I’m safe?”
“Sure.”
The wind bit on the walk back to the van. We could have used breakfast, lunch, Scotch, any number of things. Harry could probably have used a doctor. But more important was catching the earliest plane back to Boston.
26
Harry and I came off the flight ramp at Logan airport a little after one o’clock. I had less than an hour before meeting Mr. Devlin for the pretrial conference at the courthouse. The judge had accommodated the DA by holding the hearing on Saturday. My first move when I hit solid ground was to call Lanny’s room at Mass. General. My heart nearly came through my ribs when she answered the phone herself.
She said she was doing fine, all things considered. I thought it was pretty gutsy, considering all the things there were to be considered. It was not your average first date.
I promised to get over to see her as soon as possible. She understood the necessary flexibility in the schedule since I had filled her in on most of what was going on.
Harry was still hobbling a bit, but he had managed to straighten up. I had one last favor to ask.
Before we left the airport, I called information for the number of the Ming Tree restaurant. I dialed it and handed the phone to Harry.
“Harry, see if you can get Mrs. Lee on the phone. I’ll need you to interpret. I’ll tell you what to say when you get her.”
I listened to the exchange. I guessed by the inflection of Harry’s Chinese that she wasn’t there. Harry hung up, and we headed for the taxi stand.
“Not only is she not there, Mike. I asked, and they haven’t seen her at the restaurant for the last couple of days. No idea when she’ll be in. Is that a surprise?”
“It’s a disappointment, not a surprise. They’ve got her hidden away. She’ll be back for the trial.”
“You’re starting to think like they do, Mike. You’ve been paying attention.”
“I had a good professor. I figure they realized we could get to her at the restaurant. She’s Kip Liu’s insurance policy as long as she doesn’t change her testimony.”
We split into separate taxis. I headed directly for the courthouse. I led the driver to believe the tip would be doubled if she beat her best time through the tunnel. She apparently took me seriously. She burned a route through back streets of East Boston that don’t appear on maps. They brought us to the very head of the killer line of airport traffic at the entrance to the tunnel. She squeezed into line with a horn and an endangered left fender. I made good on the tip, and jotted down her name for future needs-Carlotta something.
I got through security at the courthouse as soon as possible and met Mr. Devlin at the bank of elevators. We rode in silence up to the eighth floor.
Before going into courtroom 809, Mr. Devlin hustled me into a small, unoccupied lawyer’s conference room. We had five minutes. I used four of them to fill him in on the Toronto details.