Exertion had dried Komatori's face, but his gi remained damp.

"If you have your key," I added, "you can go out the back here and let yourself into your dojo by the fire door." That way he and his students wouldn't have to carry the kid through the rain.

He'd regained his self-containment, but I saw shadows in his eyes, suggestions of turmoil, and his scar had darkened.

"We'll go, Brew-sarz," he answered quietly.

"But I don't understand what's happening. You've taken too much onto yourself."

Dishonestly I tried to reassure him.

"It's not as much as you think." I wanted him safe. Innocent men were already dead. Not to mention Turf Hardshorn. My conscience couldn't bear any more victims.

"As long as no one except Sifu Hong knew the truth, a man could get rich stealing the chops. But now " I faltered, shrugged.

"There's no money in it. We'll get them back. And prove your master's innocence."

Glancing at Sternway to avoid Hideo's scrutiny, I finished, "I'm not alone. Between us, Anson and I'll work everything out."

Sternway's thin smile reminded me of his eagerness in the fight club, where he'd killed Hardshorn.

I still had no evidence. None at all.

Finally Hideo nodded. He made a point of crossing the room so that he could bow to T'ang Wen. When T'ang responded, Ko-ma tori collected his students. Carefully they carried the moaning kid out if the dojo. A moment later I heard the fire door clash open. The sound was barely audible against the background of the storm.

"Now what, Axbrewder?" Sternway asked flatly.

"You said you wanted to talk."

Instead of answering, I returned to T'ang.

He knelt beside one of his students now, checking the extent of the man's injuries. He looked up as Sternway and I approached.

"Mr. T'ang, Mr. Sternway and I have a lot to discuss." Fear and the aftereflects of shouting left my voice rough.

"We'll need privacy. But I don't want to intrude on you. We'll let ourselves out the back."

T'ang nodded a dismissal. I'd already taken more from him than he thought he could afford.

When I'd given Hideo enough time to get his people back where they belonged, Sternway and I followed him. At the fire door, I gestured Sternway ahead of me. He shrugged in curiously and complied. He'd seen me club Cho, but apparently he wasn't concerned that I might do the same to him.

While he had his back to me, I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket, touched the cell phone preset to bring up the number for my apartment, and pushed the dial button.

Praying that the answering machine wouldn't fail me, I stepped out into the heat of the utility well and let the fire door shut itself behind me.

Sternway went as far as the equipment cage. Light glared down from the flood lamps casting accusative shadows across us from the catwalks overhead. His features appeared to slip in and out of existence as he shifted through the shadows. For some reason, the smell of brimstone seemed stronger. After the comparative quiet inside Traditional Wing Chun, the rain rattled in the air like distressed sheet metal. Whenever thunder struck nearby, it raised a muffled vibration like keening from the grills and catwalks.

Too late, I realized that the answering machine might not hear anything except rain and faint metallic woe.

Ah, shit.

At the cage, Sternway turned to face me. His arms hung expectantly at his sides.

"Well?" he demanded.

"Spit it out, Ax-brewder."

I could hardly hear him myself.

I didn't have any choice. If the answering machine couldn't pick up our voices, I'd just have to survive. Somehow.

Staying at least three long strides away from him, I moved until the fire-escape corridor was at my back. Now he couldn't escape unless he got past me first. There I straightened my spine, let him see my teeth in a harsh grin.

"Tell me something, Anson." I raised my voice to carry through the muffled downpour.

"I think I have the rest of it figured out." The parts that mattered, anyway.

"But how did you know you were going to need that rope and grapple?"

He laughed sharply, like the crack of a handgun.

"What rope and grapple?"

"The ones the cops found in the Dumpster. You made it too easy. When you handed off the chops to Swilley, you could've given him the rope and grapple too. He could've ditched them anywhere."

That got his attention. He opened his mouth to laugh again, then changed his mind. His frown caught the shadows.

"Swilley? Carliss Swilley? I don't know what you're talking about.

I've never met the man." He feigned a dawning surprise.

"Do you mean to say you think I ?"

I cut him off.

"Never mind. It doesn't matter. Let's just assume that you left the evidence where the cops couldn't miss it because you wanted to implicate Nakahatchi.

"The part that really pisses me off and I mean really is killing Bernie Appelwait. Hong sure as hell didn't deserve to die, but at least there was always a chance that he'd wake up in time to defend himself. Not Bernie." For a moment rage constricted my chest. I had to fight it down in order to breathe.

"He couldn't have saved himself from you and Hardshorn with a fucking cannon, never mind a mere flik."

"Stop!" Sternway ordered.

"Damn you, Axbrewder, stop." Now I could hear him better. All I had to do was keep him angry.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I hardly knew Appelwait.

Hardshorn was just a man I saw around the fight club. Until he tried to kill you until I saved your life I never had anything to do with him.

"You better have a good excuse for accusing me like this. If you don't, I'll sue you for harassment. Slander. I'll call that detective, what's his name, and have you arrested!"