“You’re a lucky man, Crawford. With a woman like this I wouldn’t have gone back home either.”
“Let’s hope you find one,” Crawford said.
They parted then, and Madame Wu fell into step beside Crawford. “What do you think of him?” she asked.
Crawford pondered a moment. Then he said simply, “I think he’s been sent to kill me.”
Over breakfast the next morning Crawford made plans for the day. “I need to fix up the kite a bit for tonight. Fleet will be there and I have to put on a good show for him.”
“Even if he plans to kill you?”
“I could be wrong. Maybe he’s as innocent as you think. Anyway, I can’t go through the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”
She went downstairs to the shop with him. He needed to buy more heavy kite string so she unlocked the door to let him out. It was not yet nine o’clock, and the little street of shops was still nearly deserted. As he stood in the doorway she heard something like a muffled cough. He stepped back into the shop and slammed the door. He was holding his side and when he took his hand away Madame Wu saw the blood.
“Crawford — what is it?” She tried to keep her voice calm, though her heart was racing.
“Someone just took a shot at me from across the street. Either he used a silencer or it was a small-caliber target pistol.”
“Did you see anyone?” she asked, pulling away his shirt to expose the wound.
“No. Don’t bother with that. It just grazed me.”
“You’re bleeding. You need stitches.”
“He’s a damned lousy shot.”
“Lucky for you! I must get you to a doctor.”
“No. A little tape will close the wound.”
“You will bleed to death!” She was insistent now. Though there was not much blood, his face was very pale.
She helped him upstairs and brought some tape, but after an examination of the wound in a mirror he was forced to agree with her.
“All right,” he said. “Call Bates. He used to be a doctor.”
“Why not go to a hospital?”
“I’d just as soon the word didn’t get around quite yet. Right now, whoever tried to kill me doesn’t know how badly I’m hurt. That could be an advantage for the next few hours.”
She tried Bates’s number three times before he answered. When his voice finally came on the line she said, “Mr. Bates, someone tried to kill Crawford. Could you come here right away, please?”
“What? How badly is he hurt?”
“Not too bad, I think.”
“I’ll be right over.”
When she hung up she started thinking about the eels. Now, it seemed, they were more important than ever. It was no longer merely a kite fight that was at stake, but Crawford’s life.
She went to him and said, “When Bates comes I must go out for some eels.”
He tried to laugh, but she could see he was in pain.
“Is it bad, Crawford?”
“A scrape. I’ll be good as new.”
She went downstairs to wait for Bates. When he arrived he was carrying a small black medical bag she’d never seen before. For the first time she believed the story that he had been a doctor once.
“Who shot him?” he demanded.
“We don’t know. We saw no one. Go up to him, Bates, and patch his wound. I must do some shopping, but I will be back.”
She made her way down the street, past the other shops that were just opening their doors. The morning mist was burning off early and the sun would quickly warm the air.
At the great outdoor market there was no sign of the boy who sold the eels, and for a moment she panicked. Then she saw him across the field near one of the dried-up canals. He had a pushcart full of brown plastic bags that seemed to writhe even as she watched. “Quickly, boy!” she called out. “Sell me nine eels for luck!”
Clutching her purchase close, feeling the eels move against her as if anxious for their coming freedom, she was tempted to go immediately to the Klong Maha Nak. But then something stirred in her memory. Something dangerous.
Crawford was in danger.
She hurried back to the shop, still clutching the plastic bag. She climbed the stairs to the kitchen and listened.
Bates and Crawford were talking in the bedroom. The Englishman laughed about something and then came out to the kitchen with his black bag.
He saw Madame Wu by the table and smiled. “He’ll be as good as new. I took a couple of stitches and taped him up well.”
“That’s fine.”
“I’ll go now,” he said. “Let him get a bit of rest.”
“Mr. Bates—”
“Yes?”
“When you arrived you asked who shot Crawford. But on the phone I only told you someone tried to kill him. How did you know it was by shooting?”
“I—”
“I think it was you, Mr. Bates, hiding across the street when he came out this morning.”
“What? What are you talking about?” His black bag had come open and he was reaching inside.
Madame Wu saw the bread knife on the table, just out of reach. She knew she had made a terrible mistake. Even as she tried to speak again, Bates raised the silenced pistol and fired three times.
Crawford opened his eyes. Bates was coming back into the room. “What was that noise?” Crawford asked.
Then he saw the gun in the Englishman’s hand. It was a hit man’s weapon — a .22 caliber target pistol with a silencer.
“I had to kill her, Crawford, so I might as well finish you off too. I can make it look as if you killed each other.”
“It was you across the street this morning!”
“Yes,” Bates said, raising the pistol until Crawford was looking down it. “You always knew someone would come, didn’t you?”
“You came three years ago. Why did you wait so long?”
“My position was too safe here. I didn’t want to jeopardize it with a foolish killing. Once I knew it was you I spent some time trying to find out what you did with the money.”
“It’s downstairs in the curio shop.”
“I know that now.”
“What business is it of yours whether I live or die?”
Bates shrugged. “None, personally. It wasn’t my war, after all. But I’m an arms merchant, selling to various factions in Southeast Asia. There are people who still remember you — who say you lost the war. They told me I had to kill you if I wanted to stay in business. So I waited for the right opportunity — the appearance of a young American I could pin it on. That’s why I patched you up just now. It wouldn’t do to kill you here, where Fleet might not be blamed. I planned to have another try tonight after the kite fight. She forced my hand — so now you’ll die together.”
“Wait—” Crawford began, trying to rise from the bed.
“I’ll miss you, Crawford,” Bates said, his finger whitening on the trigger. “I won a great deal of money on you.”
That was when Madame Wu plunged the bread knife into his back.
“You made a terrible mess,” Crawford told her. “There’s blood all over the place.”
Madame Wu sat trembling in the chair while they waited for the police. “I never killed anyone before. Is that what it’s like?”
“That’s what it’s like. You saved my life, Anna.”
“It was the eels,” she told him. “I was holding them to my chest when he shot me. The bullets knocked me over, but they hit the eels.”
“I guess I’ll never doubt you again when you say that they bring good luck.”
“Will there be others like Bates who come to kill you?”
“Perhaps.”
“What will you do now?”
He touched his side and winced. “I may not be able to handle the kite this evening. I’ll have to see if young Fleet can carry on for me.”