Hanging the Devil by Tim Maleeny

Author:Tim Maleeny
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks

38

“Gerry Gao isn’t a thief,” said Sally. “He’s more of a thug.”

“What’s a thug?” asked Grace.

“A bad guy,” said Cape.

They were standing on the rooftop of an empty warehouse that once stored plumbing supplies for a wholesaler that went bankrupt the year before. When the recently elected DA announced he wasn’t going to arrest anyone unless they killed someone, an undercurrent of seediness spread across San Francisco like mold. Drug dealers, hustlers, and car thieves moved in, and anyone who could afford to moved out, while those with real money drove across the Golden Gate and bought houses in neighborhoods with private security, gates, and good schools nearby. That turned neighborhoods like this one, once a mix of commercial and residential, into landscapes of desolation and decay.

The roof on which they stood was higher than the adjacent building, which happened to be a textile factory owned by Freddie Wang. From their vantage point, a short walk to either side of the roof would give them a clear line of sight to the front or rear entrance of Freddie’s factory.

Cape, Sally, and Grace crouched behind a low wall that encircled the roof. In the center of the roof was a service door that led to an enclosed stairway. A fire escape ran down the back of the building. Freddie’s building had a similar structure, but its brick face had small windows on the first floor and more expansive windows on the second, multipaned and continuous from the days when electricity was a novelty and natural light was critical for factory workers being able to see what they were sewing.

“How bad is he?” Grace asked as if trying to brace herself for what might happen. “He tried to grab me in the alley, but I think he just wanted to take me to his boss.”

“His boss is worse,” said Cape. “He’s the real villain.”

“But not a supervillain.” Grace nodded. “Sally told me.”

“Just an old bully who’s willing to hurt people to get what he wants.” Cape studied Grace’s expressions and added, “We’re not talking about Lex Luthor, here, or even Doctor Octopus or Green Goblin. Not that bad.”

Sally groaned.

Grace visibly brightened. “Sally told me I shouldn’t read so many comic books.”

“That’s like saying you shouldn’t study Greek myths,” said Cape. “Comic books are a cornerstone of any classical education.”

Sally shook her head. “You’re a bad influence.”

“But not a bad guy.” Cape winked at Grace, who giggled. “Or a villain.”

“Showtime,” said Sally quietly.

The sound of an engine preceded a car coming into view.

They crouched behind the wall and followed the car’s progress as it pulled around the back of Freddie’s building. The driver stayed in the car, but another man exited the shotgun seat and, after a cursory look around, opened the rear door. Freddie Wang climbed out of the black Cadillac, a cane in one hand and cigarette in the other.

The last time Cape had seen Freddie was at his restaurant in Chinatown. During a brief and acrimonious exchange, Freddie smoked a pack of cigarettes, his ashtray overflowing by the time Cape asked his first question.

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