Tess Gerritsen - The Silent Girl

Bella glanced at the book. “Chinese fairy tales. What do they have to do with anything?”

“One particular chapter in this book caught my attention. It’s called ‘The Story of Chen O.’ It’s about a scholar who travels with his pregnant wife. At a ferry crossing, they’re attacked by bandits and the husband is killed. His wife is abducted. Do you know this one?”

Bella shrugged. “I’ve heard it.”

“Then you know how it turns out. The wife gives birth to a son while in captivity and secretly places him on a wooden plank, with a letter explaining her plight. Just like baby Moses, the child’s set adrift on the river. He floats to the Temple of the Golden Mountain, where he’s raised by holy men. He grows to manhood and learns the truth about his parents. About his butchered father and his imprisoned mother.”

“Is there a point to this?”

“The point is right here, in the words spoken by the young man.” Jane looked down at the page and read the quote. “He who fails to avenge the wrongs done to a parent is unworthy of the name of man.” She looked at Bella. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’re like the son in this story. Haunted by the murder of your father. Honor-bound to avenge him.” Jane slid the book in front of Bella. “It’s exactly what the Monkey King would do, fight for justice. protect the innocent. Avenge a father. Oh, Monkey may wreak a bit of havoc in the process. He may break all the chinaware and set fire to the furniture. But in the end, justice is done. He always does the right thing. ”

Bella said nothing as she stared at the illustration of the warrior monkey brandishing his staff.

“I understand completely, Bella,” said Jane. “You’re not the villain in this. You’re the daughter of a victim, a daughter who wants what the police can’t deliver. Justice.” She lowered her voice to a sympathetic murmur. “That’s what you and Iris were trying to do. Draw out the killer. Tempt him to strike.”

Was that the hint of a nod she saw? Bella’s inadvertent acknowledgment of the truth?

“But the plan didn’t work out so well,” said Jane. “When he did strike, he hired professionals to do the killing for him. So you still don’t know his identity. And now he’s taken Iris.”

Bella looked up, fury burning in her eyes. “It went wrong because of you . I should have been there to watch over her.”

“She was the bait.”

“She was willing to take the risk.”

“And you two were going to deliver justice all by yourselves?”

“Who else is going to do it? The police?” Bella’s laugh was bitter. “All these years later, they don’t care.”

“You’re wrong, Bella. I sure as hell do care.”

“Then let me go, so I can find her.”

“You have no idea where to start.”

“Do you?” Bella spat back.

“We’re looking at several suspects.”

“While you keep me locked up for no reason.”

“I’m investigating two homicides. That’s my reason.”

“They were hired killers. That’s what you said.”

“Their deaths are still homicides.”

“And I have an alibi for the first one. You know I didn’t kill that woman on the roof.”

“Then who did?”

Bella looked at the book and her mouth twitched. “Maybe it was the Monkey King.”

“I’m talking about real people.”

“You say I’m a suspect, but you know I couldn’t have killed the woman. You might as well blame some mythical creature, because you have just as much of a chance of proving it.” Bella looked at Jane. “You do know how the folktale starts, don’t you? How Sun Wukong emerges from stone and transforms into a warrior? The night my father was killed, I emerged from that stone cellar just like Monkey. I was transformed, too. I became what I am now.”

Jane stared into eyes as hard as any she had ever looked into. She tried to imagine Bella as a frightened five-year-old, but she could see no trace of that child in this fierce creature. If I’d witnessed the murder of someone I loved, would I be any different?

Jane stood up. “You’re right, Bella. I don’t have enough to hold you. Not yet.”

“You mean-you’re letting me go?”

“Yes, you can leave.”

“And I won’t be followed? I’m free to do what I have to?”

“What does that mean?”

Bella rose from her chair, like a lioness uncoiling herself for the hunt, and the two women stared at each other across the table. “Whatever it takes,” she said.

I CAN HEAR HIM BREATHING IN THE DARKNESS, BEYOND THE BLINDING glare that shines in my eyes. He has not allowed me to see his face; all I know about him is that his voice is as smooth as cream. But I have not cooperated, and he is starting to grow angry because he realizes I am not easily broken.

Now he is worried as well, because of the personal tracking device he found strapped to my ankle. A device that he has disabled by removing the battery.

“Who are you working with?” he asks. He shoves the device in my face. “Who was tracking you?”

Despite my bruised jaw, my swollen lips, I manage to answer in a hoarse whisper: “Someone you never want to meet. But you soon will.”

“Not if they can’t find you.” He tosses down the tracking device, and when it hits the floor it is like the sound of shattering hope. I was still unconscious when he took it from me, so I don’t know when the device ceased its transmissions. It might have been long before I arrived in this place, which means that no one will be able to find me. And this is where I will die.

I don’t even know where I am.

My wrists are trapped by manacles bolted to the wall. The floor beneath my bare feet is concrete. There is no light except what he shines in my eyes, no hint of sunlight through window cracks. Perhaps it is night. Or perhaps this is a place where light never penetrates, where screams never escape. I squint against the glare, trying to make out my surroundings, but there is only that bright light and beyond it, darkness. My hands twitch, aching to close around a weapon, to complete what I have waited so many years to finish.

“You’re looking for your sword, aren’t you?” he says, and waves the blade in the light, so that I can see it. “A beautiful weapon. Sharp enough to slice off a finger without an ounce of effort. Is this what you used to kill them?” He swings it, and the blade hisses past my face. “I hear her hand was sliced off clean. And his head came off with a single stroke. Two professional killers, yet they were both taken by surprise.” He brings the blade to my neck, pressing it so tightly that my bounding pulse makes the metal throb. “Shall we see what this can do to your throat?”

I hold still, my gaze fixed on the black oval that is his face. I have already resigned myself to death, so I am prepared for it. In truth, I’ve been ready to die these past nineteen years, and with a slash of the blade, he’ll free me at last to join my husband, a reunion that I have put off only because of this unfinished business. What I feel now isn’t fear but regret that I have failed. That this man will never feel my sword’s bite against his own throat.

“That night, in the Red Phoenix, there was a witness,” he says. “Who was it?”

“Do you really think I would tell you?”

“So someone was there.”

“And will never forget.”

The sword digs deeper into my neck. “Tell me the name.”

“You’re going to kill me anyway. Why should I?”