They were sitting in a small booth in the back of a diner on Mason. Mike was wearing a baseball cap and a black windbreaker over a checked shirt; Steve had taken off his tie and opened his collar button. They were nursing coffees as they waited for the woman who had called to join them.

Mike looked at his watch again, getting used to it being on his right wrist. But he invariably rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Five minutes…" he said softly, not really sure why he felt the need to keep his partner informed.

The younger man swallowed a smile. It was the first time both of them had been allowed to venture outside the office together since the accident, and it felt satisfyingly comfortable.

"Lieutenant Stone?" came a soft, accented voice from near his right shoulder and both men started slightly. A very young Chinese woman with short dark hair and haunted eyes was staring at the older man.

Mike got to his feet faster than Steve, and he nodded. "Yes… yes, I'm Lieutenant Stone." He pointed across the table. "This is my partner, Inspector Keller."

She looked at Steve shyly and nodded. The young man nodded back then gestured at the empty chair between them. As she sat, she looked at Mike again. "My name is Zhu Yudong, but people call me Judy…" She smiled at them from under a lowered brow, her hands worrying the paisley-patterned granny dress under her plain dark blue wool coat.

Mike smiled warmly as he sat. "I'm Mike and he's Steve." His eyes flashed towards his partner, the look saying they would need to take their time and be soft and gentle to get anything out of this scared young woman. "Have, ah, have you lived in San Francisco all your life?"

She flashed a quick smile then shook her head. "My parents brought me and my elder brother over from Shanghai about twelve years ago. I learned my English here but I haven't been able to lose my accent." She shrugged apologetically.

"It's lovely," Mike said kindly and her smile got a little wider as she looked from the older detective to the younger.

"Would you like something to eat or drink?" Steve asked gently, surprised when she shook her head quickly and vigorously.

"No," she said in a rush, then took a beat, looking down at her hands in her lap. "I can't be away too long… they'll get suspicious."

The detectives shared a quick, worried look then Mike leaned forward a little more. "Who might get suspicious?"

Her dark eyes snapped to him for a brief second before returning to her lap. "My… my brother… and his friend."

"Why would they get suspicious?" Steve asked, leaning a little closer.

She glanced up at him. "My parents are dead. A fire in our apartment five years ago; my brother and I were at school. My brother is my… parent now. I look after him… I cook for him and do his laundry… for him and his friend…"

"Does your brother work?" Mike asked, getting an idea of where this conversation was going.

"He doesn't have a job, if that's what you mean…. But he does make enough money for us to stay in a small apartment on Clay, above a restaurant."

"Where does he get his money?" Steve asked.

She shook her head, glancing up at him almost in apology. "I don't know… he won't tell me. But he always seems to have money to give me to buy groceries…"

Mike took a deep breath, almost reluctant to ask the next, obvious question. "Judy, do you think it was your brother who shot Mr. Chen?"

Her head snapped up quickly, her eyes wide. She shook her head vigorously. "No! No, I know it wasn't him…" Her frantic eyes snapped back and forth between the two detectives. "It was his friend… I know it."

"His friend?" Steve pressed gently as Mike sat back, letting him take over the interrogation.

She dropped her head and nodded. "Xinyu Han… everyone calls him Chin. He's not a very nice man, to me anyway… but he's my brother's best friend…"

"Why do you think it was… Chin?"

"Because on Christmas Day, he was broke and he was mad… and he was mean. Then the next day he brought my brother a big bottle of whisky and a big bag of food to me to cook for them." She paused, and what looked like anger flashed across her face. "That's all I do, I cook for them."

The detectives shared another look then Mike leaned forward again. "You told me you saw someone running from the restaurant the night of the shooting. Is that true?"

She stared at him expressionlessly for a long beat. Then she looked down and quickly shook her head. "No… no. I just thought if I told you that then you would believe me more." She bit her lip, her head still downturned. "I'm sorry." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; when she opened them again, she looked at Mike. "Chin has a gun. I've seen it. It's small and black and I hate it when he takes it out of his waistband and waves it around… I'm afraid of it… and him."

Mike nodded softly then reached out and laid a comforting, fatherly hand on her forearm. "You told me on the phone that you knew who did it and where they were. Is that true?"

She bit her lip as she stared into his eyes and nodded. "Well, I know where my brother is right now - at home asleep. That's why I have to get home before he realizes I'm gone," she said softly. "But tonight… they'll both be at our apartment for dinner." She shrugged. "They're always at our apartment for dinner…. That's why I couldn't get away last night."

"What time?" Steve asked.

She turned to him, another flash of anger streaking across her face. "I start to cook around six, and then I have to keep it warm until they decide to come and eat it. And god forbid if I let it get cold," she whispered in anger almost to herself. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly again before looking at Mike. "They'll be there by eight at the latest."

"What do they do after they eat? Do they stay in or go out again?"

"They always go out… always. Then my brother comes back alone sometime after midnight. I… I don't know what they do with their time…" She bit her lip and tears sprang to her eyes. "I don't know if I want to know what they do with their time."

Mike knew she was thinking about her parents and how her brother was destroying the family name. His smile was slow to build but it was genuine and approving. "I promise you we won't take him while he's in your home. We don't want him to think it was you… or your brother." He looked at Steve, who was staring at him in confusion. His hand still on her forearm, Mike squeezed a little tighter. "You said Chin has a gun. Your brother doesn't?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No, no, he doesn't. I'm sure he doesn't."

"What's your brother's name?"

"Bolin… everyone calls him Bo. Will you have to arrest him too?"

Mike shook his head. "Not if he hasn't done anything." She nodded slowly, understanding what he was saying. He patted her arm before removing his hand. He threw a pointed glance in his partner's direction and Steve reached into his jacket pocket for his notebook and pen. "Now I want you to tell us your address and then I want you go home and do whatever it is you do during the day. It has to be a normal day or Chin or your brother might get suspicious and we don't want that. Leave the rest of it to us, okay?"

She was staring into his eyes as if willing herself to believe what he was telling her. When he finished, she nodded softly and Mike smiled.

# # # # #

Steve snapped his notebook closed as they watched her disappear through the diner door and out into the busy lunch hour foot traffic. His eyes snapped to his partner. "We're not going to be able to get a warrant on her word alone… so what are you thinking?"

Mike turned to him slowly, a sly look in his eye. "Oh, I'm well aware of that. I have another idea." Chuckling he got to his feet, taking a couple of dollar bills out of his pants pocket and tossing them on the table. "If things work out like I hope, you're going to be very happy you're back on the streets again, Smiley."

# # # # #

Armed with names and an address, Steve made the trip down to R&I when they returned to Bryant Street while Mike paid a visit to Robbery. What he had in mind needed the cooperation of the other division if he was to pull it off without a hitch, which was always his goal.

They met back in Mike's office a couple of hours later. Steve held up a manila envelope as he sat in the first guest chair, patting down his tie, which was knotted loosely around his neck. "Bolin Yudong and Xinyu Han, AKA Chin." He tossed their mugshots across the desk to his partner. "Yudong has one arrest for 'Threatening' but no conviction," he reported with raised eyebrows, then looked at his partner with a knowing smile, "but our friend Chin, he has two arrests for 'Threatening' and two for 'Armed Robbery'. Unfortunately, no complaints were filed so all charges were dropped."

Mike was leaning back in his chair, his lips pursed. "Yeah, I'm not surprised about that. I talked to a couple of the fellas down in Robbery and they know this guy. He's smooth, they told me, and he has some kind of hold over some of the merchants in Chinatown."

"Like a protection racket?"

Mike raised his eyebrows and made a face. "On a small scale, yeah. They know he's getting kickbacks from some of the more vulnerable restaurants and grocery stores, but because no one will talk to them, they can't do anything, their hands are tied. The people in Chinatown are very… insular. They look after each other and they aren't prone to letting anyone else take care of their problems. This… Chin character is their problem, I'm sure they're thinking, but I have a feeling they don't know how to control him and he's getting more emboldened. Especially now that he thinks he's gotten away with murder." He set his jaw and stared at the younger man. "We can't let this go any further."

Nodding in agreement, Steve sat back in the chair. "Well, we don't have enough for a warrant… so what are you thinking?"

The older man smiled enigmatically. "Well, you and I are still not supposed to be out on the street so I've enlisted some of the guys from Robbery, Vice and street patrol…"

Steve frowned with a curious smile. "What have you got up your sleeve besides a cast and an itchy arm?"

# # # # #

It was raining again, and cold. Wearing a plain black baseball cap and a black raincoat, Mike slouched behind the wheel of the tan LTD parked at the curb on Stockton. He raised his right wrist and twisted it so he could see the watch face in the overhead streetlight. 9:12. He picked up the walkie-talkie from the seat beside him and pressed the talk button. "Steve?" He released the button.

There was a loud click then a static-filled "Yeah?"

"Anything?"

"Not yet. Everybody's in place."

"Keep me posted."

"Will do." Steve slipped the walkie-talkie into his raincoat pocket then rubbed his chilled hands together, blowing on his fingers. He was standing in the recessed doorway of a closed and dark restaurant down the block from the Clay Street apartment.

From where he was hidden he could see a couple of people loitering in the narrow street: a well-dressed middle-aged Chinese man, who looked moderately drunk, was meandering his way slowly down the sidewalk on the other side, and a young Asian man, dressed all in black, was trying to conceal himself in a doorway further along on the same side, watching the other man's every move. Steve kept an eye on them both.

Suddenly there was the soft but distinct click and squeak of a door opening and Steve refocused to see Bolin Yudong and Chin Han step onto the sidewalk. They stopped just beyond the threshold and looked calculatingly up and down the dark street before quietly closing the door. And even from where he stood, Steve could tell by their attitude and body language that they were on the hunt.