Chapter 16

HOUSE OF LAVENDER FLAME,

CHINATOWN, SAN FRANCISCO

8:46 P.M. (TWO HOURS EARLIER)

Detective Frank Kohanek looked at the young brunette, crying on the sidewalk. He looked at the several broken windows on the upper floors of the semi-respectable hotel. And, then, he looked at the young blonde in the black clothing who seemed to be the only one as morbidly calm as him.

So, he went up to her, flashing his gold badge to reinforce his verbal self-identification.

"Did you see what went on here, Miss. . .?"

"Summers. Buffy Summers," she replied: "And, yes, I did."

"Could you tell me about it?" he prompted.

"Well, for starters; Cordie and I- -Cordelia Chase, that is (that's her over there, poor thing)- - came up here on vacation. Napa Valley wineries tour and all that. With poor Mr. Doyle, there, as our tour guide. We had stopped at that restaurant across the street to get a late supper. And, the next thing I know these ninjas come dropping down, out of nowhere! Screaming, waving their swords about, and going after that man."

She pointed to Lee Pow IV as she said this. Frank arched his left eyebrow, Vulcan-style.

"And, were you able to distinguish any of what they were saying?"

"I'm sorry, no. It was all in Japanese. And, when it first started, I thought we had stumbled into the middle of some martial arts flick being filmed on location! Then, I saw poor Mr. Doyle get killed. That's when I knew we must be in the middle of some gang war!"

"Gang war?"

"Yeah! You know; like tong vs. yakuza? That sort of thing?"

Kohanek half-smiled: "With all due respect, miss; I'm afraid you've been watching _too many_ martial arts movies,"

Buffy's posture indignantly stiffened: "Oh, yeah? Well, I'm from Sunnydale. The town with all those PCP-addicted street gangs? And, learning the martial arts there is practically mandatory!"

"Really!" replied Kohanek: "How very interesting. Please, wait here for a moment. I might have more questions for you."

"I'm not going anywhere without Cordie."

Kohanek nodded, understandingly. Then, he walked over to where Lee was standing. And, rather nervously, at that! Maybe Ms. Summers' notion was not so far-fetched, after all.

Buffy waited until the police detective was deep into his questioning before kneeling down to try and snap Cordelia out of her shock. For, not once, from the time Angel and Mick had departed with Sonny Toussaint to the pulling up of the first police car, had the would-be movie actress stopped crying. She had merely rocked back and forth on her knees, still cradling Doyle's head and upper torso like a mother with a newborn baby.

"Cordie?" she began: "Cordie, I'm sorry. I know he died saving your life. And, it takes a great guy to do that for anybody! But, the cops have to take his body away, now."

"No!" exclaimed Cordelia, finally looking up, sheer terror in her eyes: "They'll do an autopsy on him. They'll see he's not fully human, and think he's an alien from outer space, or something!"

"I won't let that happen. We have the cell phone number for Mick's friend, Mr. Kostan. We can call him from the police station, and have him pull some strings. Maybe claim that an autopsy is against Doyle's family's religion! But, in the meantime, we have to keep up appearances. We have to let the cops take Doyle away, for the time being."

There was an awkward pause between the two young women. And, then, much to Buffy's amazement, Cordie released Doyle's body in order to hug the Slayer! Her amazement quickly changed to compassion, however, and she hugged Cordie right back. Comforting the sobbing brunette as best she could.

That was when the migraine hit her.

"Detective Kohanek, Mr. Lee. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Not at all, detective! I am most happy to co-operate, in any way I can."

"You own both this hotel and the Purple Dragon Restaurant, correct?"

Lee Pow IV nodded: "It eliminates tardiness, when one can house one's immigrant employees directly across the street from their place of work. And, the tax write-off isn't bad, either!"

"Some of those immigrant employees wouldn't be Japanese by any chance, would they?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"What I mean is; you didn't do anything to get piss off the local branch of the yakuza, did you?"

"Yakuza?" echoed Lee (in half-genuine astonishment): "Really, detective! Whatever gave you that idea? I admit, some of my plastic dishware might be made in Japan. But, by and large, I am a legitimate businessman!"

"Legitimate businessmen don't usually have ninja trying to slice up them up like sushi."

"I resent your racist sarcasm, detective. If you wish to ask me anymore questions, contact me through my lawyer!"

Kohanek smiled to himself, as he let the elderly restaurateur walk away from him.

The migraine was followed by a chain of images.

The first image showed what looked like an ordinary adobe mission from California's Spanish colonial days (like the one at San Juan Capistrano, for instance). But, the second image gave her mind's eye a closer view of the archway above the main gate. And, the name on that archway consisted of two words:

"ST. IOANNES"

The third image seemed to come with a sound track, as Buffy now heard the wooden doors of the main gate being torn from their hinges! Which was followed immediately by the fourth image: that of a scantily-clad young woman (with long legs, honey-blonde hair, and brown eyes) smiling maliciously as she strode into the courtyard of what was now obviously a European monastery of some sort.

"Yoo-hoo! Come out, come out, wherever you are. It's not nice to fool with Mother Glorious."

tbc