Read Project Moses - A Mystery Thriller (Enzo Lee Mystery-Thriller Series) for Free Online

he sank down and slowly straightened the left leg until his toe touched the pavement. Then, he completed the slow step forward, pulling his arms in to assume the starting position of the crane with spreading wings.
    Lee mimicked the wizened old Chinese the best that he could but he felt like an oaf beside Chu with his smooth, precise movements.
    Lee thought that of all the animals that serve as models for the various tai chi exercises, the crane seemed to fit Master Chu the best. Chu’s London Fog windbreaker and stretchy leisure pants couldn’t disguise the fact that his limbs were bird thin. Lee imagined the bones would snap if somebody grabbed his arm the wrong way.
    He had met Chu during one of his early morning jogs through Chinatown. Lee had noticed the ancient-looking man going through his graceful routine of slow-motion exercises alone in the middle of Portsmouth Square. During the day the square was alive with the sounds of kids chattering in Chinese and English, and the old timers slapping mah jong tiles onto stone tables as they cursed their bad luck. But, early in the morning, before the metal shutters protecting the nearby shops slid open with a clattering bang and the city buses came roaring up Kearny Street, the square was dark and deserted, an uninviting patch of elevated cement holding only long shadows cast by streetlights.
    Even in the predawn darkness the suppleness and fluidity of Chu’s movements looked amazing, particularly for a man who must have been close to 80. They reminded Lee of the best mimes he had seen during the years that he had frequented New York’s theaters and dance studios.
    Chu’s concentration was so intense that Lee assumed the old man didn’t notice him running past. Then, one morning, Chu had stopped Lee.
    “Hey, you,” Chu yelled.
    “What? Me?”
    “Who else running by this time of morning?”
    Lee was almost finished with his normal three-mile run so he had stopped and gone over to Chu. He saw that the right side of Chu’s face drooped.
    “Try this,” Chu said.
    Chu led Lee through what he now realized was a fairly rudimentary warmup exercise involving simple leg movements made with the knees bent the entire time. After a minute, the muscles in his thighs burned and Lee feared for his knees so he fell out of step while Chu continued on.
    “Not so easy,” said Chu.
    “No.”
    Chu had gone back to the more elaborate fighting movements as the day’s first light brightened the sky.
    “You Chinese?” Chu had asked.
    “My mother was Chinese.”
    Chu had nodded, as if the answer was acceptable. When he didn’t say anything else, Lee had taken his sore legs back to his flat.
    After that, Lee began alternating running with tai chi exercises with Chu. He found they were a good counterpoint to running, using a different sort of strength and working different muscles. After six months, he was just beginning to understand how the slowness of the movements required a type of power that he had never appreciated. He was learning there was meaning behind phrases that Lee had assumed were simplistic slogans. There was strength in softness. It was important to find one’s center.
    At some point, Lee had asked Chu his name. With a twinkle in his eye, Chu had answered, “Master Chu.” Lee hadn’t bothered to inquire what Chu had done to earn the “Master” appellation or even if Chu had other students. He figured that at 80 a man could choose to be called “Jesus Christ” if he wanted. Lee just gave him a short bow and repeated, “Master Chu.”
    This morning, the exercises seemed to take longer than usual. When they finished the final set, Lee thanked Master Chu for the lesson as usual.
    “You not concentrate,” observed Chu, giving Lee a critical look. “You thinking of other thing.”
    “I am,” admitted Lee. “It’s something at my job. I’m trying to decide whether to start something that might end up causing me trouble.”
    Chu frowned. “Why you start