“When we get to that large thoroughfare we ran across, we’ll snag a taxi.”

“Let’s do it,” Marissa said. “The sooner I get back to the hotel the better I’ll feel.”

Tristan pulled the table back for Marissa to stand. Getting to her feet, she stretched each of her aching legs, then walked stiff-legged to the door and ducked through the beads. When Tristan did the same he bumped into her. Marissa was frozen. Directly in front of the tea house was a black limousine.

The three men in dark blue suits who had been chasing them earlier were casually lounging around the car in various states of repose. Spotting Tristan and Marissa, the man near the front of the car straightened up. Marissa recognized him as the one who’d posed as Freddie. His snub-nosed revolver wasn’t in evidence. Instead, he had a more serious-looking machine pistol dangling at his side.

Tristan grabbed Marissa’s wrist and turned back into the restaurant only to see its heavy wooden door slam shut in his face. He was about to try to force it open when he heard the locks on the other side slide into place.

With resignation, Tristan turned back to the street.

“Please,” the man with the machine pistol said. He motioned toward the back of the car. Tristan saw a large tear at the elbow of the man’s suit. He guessed it happened when he’d knocked him down.

At first neither Tristan nor Marissa moved. But the man with the gun would no longer tolerate delay. A short burst of fire from his machine pistol against the pavement was a forceful persuader. Bullets ricocheted haphazardly down the street, forcing the Mah-Jongg players to dive for cover. This was a man who could be casual about killing.

After that display, Marissa and Tristan complied with his wish. They approached the car’s rear door, but the man with the gun shook his head. With his gun, he motioned toward the back of the car. One of the other men unlocked the trunk and lifted the hood.

“You want us in the boot?” Tristan asked.

“Please,” the man with the gun said.

“This should be cozy,” Tristan said as he climbed into the small space and curled up. Marissa hesitated, but followed suit, curling up against Tristan.

Then the hood was slammed, plunging them into complete darkness.

“First time I’ve ever embraced a woman in a boot,” Tristan said. His right arm was draped around Marissa’s body.

“Can’t you be serious for once?” Marissa said.

“Kind of like a couple of kippered herrings in a tin,” Tristan said. They heard the car engine start, then they lurched forward as the limo proceeded down the narrow alley.

“The expression is ‘sardines in a can,’ ” Marissa said.

“Not where I grew up,” Tristan said.