The Lake Ching murders

Начало книги

Lily’s English was, at the best of times, difficult to understand unless you knew a lot of English and a whole lot of Lily. Zhong Fong possessed the requisite knowledge in both instances. So when he retreated to the crumbling cinder-block structure that passed as the village’s police station, he was reasonably sure he could decipher what Lily was trying to tell him.

Just fifty-four months ago Fong had been the head of Special Investigations, Shanghai District. Lily had been his inside source and confidante in forensics. But that was fifty-four months ago. A past life – or so it had seemed until the arrival of Lily’s missive. Fong slowly tilted the telegram forward to catch the rays of the setting sun through the sheet of cracked plastic that took the place of a windowpane. He needed as much light as possible to read these days.

Lily’s voice spoke in his head as he read her words: HEY HO SHORT STUFF [stop] HOW FAR NORTH IS EATING YOU? [stop] CAR FULL LET YOUR RICHARD FREEZE NOT [stop] WATCH OUT [stop] TONS OVER HEAD GOING DOWN ON YOU SOON [stop] REAL SUCKING TONS, YOU NEED A HAT [stop] YOURS WHENEVER, WHYEVER [stop] WHATEVER – LILY.

Читать дальше →