"After that" Sternway shrugged "I couldn't risk letting him kill you.

You'd already used your phone. I could assume you told someone you were with me. Then the police would wonder why I hadn't tried to help you. And if I only pretended to help, Turf would have gone berserk. He would think that I was setting him up. That I was going to testify against him."

I let triumph into my voice.

"And since I'm a big man with a gun and no guts, you knew you could handle me.

"Still, it must've given you quite a jolt when I told Moy that Hardshorn hadn't killed Bernie."

Sternway didn't react. I forged on anyway.

"So you went ahead with your original plan. You'd already talked Lacone into letting you take me and the chops to Martial America. And of course you couldn't stand in for him without his master key which you copied before you handed it over."

He nodded indistinctly.

"That gave you access to the chops." I was winning.

"Now all you had to do was wait until Swilley did his part. As soon as Deborah Messenger called Sue Rasmussen to discuss the problem, you knew how fast you had to act.

"And you knew that I'd asked Hong to take a look at the chops. You had to kill him when you stole them. Before he told anyone the truth."

Shadows from the catwalk filled Sternway's eyes. I couldn't tell whether he regarded me with contempt or alarm.

I locked my arms across my chest to contain my anger.

"As for the rest Your Sue is good at incendiary phone calls. Once you had the chops and Hong was dead, she started talking to people like T'ang and Soon, selling the idea that Hong stole the chops and Nakahatchi killed him for it. You wanted to stir up enough good ol'

'traditional hostility' to convince the cops that they didn't need to look any farther for motives."

Sternway had resumed his lethal relaxation. He stood like mockery, waiting for me to finish.

Through my teeth I pronounced, "Which brings me back to my original question. How did you know you were going to need a rope and grapple?"

He snorted.

"That's easy. I'm surprised it isn't obvious."

For the first time, he shifted his position, took a step toward me.

"T'ang told Sue Hong had changed his lock. He even told her Hong liked to sleep with his window open." Another step.

"It's amazing what you can learn from people when they think you share an enemy like the Japanese. Or the Koreans."

And when Posten called Rasmussen, she let Sternway know. He returned to stoke the fires all that talk about "Ninjitsu" and keep an eye on me.

Uncrossing my arms, I pulled out the .45 and pointed it dead at his face.

"That's close enough, asshole."

He sneered.

"You won't shoot me, Axbrewder. You said it yourself. No guts. And I'm unarmed. Even a coward like you can't kill people in cold blood."

He started into another step.

With my left hand, I chambered a round. Background noise dulled the sound.

"Maybe I'll shoot you, maybe I won't. Unlike you, I've still got a couple of scruples." Anger poured from me like venom.

"But I've been known to let them slip on occasion.

"However," I admitted bitterly, "I'm a terrible shot. I could probably miss. Even at this range." Not bloody likely.

"So I took precautions."

I lifted the cell phone out of my pocket, held it up so that Sternway could see it. The connection counter hadn't stopped. My link to the answering machine remained open.

"When we left the dojo, I called a tape recorder. It's been running the whole time. It'll have a lot of background noise rain, thunder, that sort of thing. But the crime lab can clear it up. When they're done, you'll be perfectly audible."

Abruptly a storm of fury seized his features. All at once he looked rabid and unstoppable, like he could walk through machine-gun fire, tear me apart with his teeth. But that passed almost immediately.

Without effort he relaxed his shoulders, let the tension out of his hands. A twist of his mouth dismissed my precautions. Ready as a stick of dynamite, he flashed a glare into my face.

"That won't save you, Axbrewder," he announced distinctly.

"I don't care how many lies you tell about me. I don't care if you shoot me. You can't hide the truth. Eventually the police will hunt you down."

That sudden change in his stance scared me worse than a direct charge.

If he'd come right at me, I could at least have tried to whack him on the head. If nothing else, I should've braced myself.

Instead I dropped the phone back into my pocket, steadied the .45 with both hands.

"Oh, give it up," I rasped back.

"Maybe you're too tough to die." I sighted at his guts.

"Maybe you're the fucking Ebola virus of martial artists. But too many people know what I know. The cops have a piece, Marshal Viviter has a piece, the friend who found that bag has a piece." I wasn't about to say Ginny's name. Just in case.

"They'll put it all together sooner or later."

"Lies," he retorted.

"You're lying. I have to wonder where you've hidden the chops. You haven't had time to take them far. If you're as careless about that as you've been about other things, they may still be in your car."

"That's enough!" What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn't wipe out what he'd already said by accusing me.

"Get down! Nowl On the floor. Face first. I don't want to kill you, but I do not mind leaving a hole you can put your fist through in your goddamn stomach!"

He stepped back like I'd scared him like he suddenly believed that I'd blow him away when scarcely a minute ago he'd actively dared me to shoot him.

I didn't get any other warning. I'd already missed too many danger signs.