“But you understand me?” he asked. “You know what I say?”
Yes, she nodded.
“Good. You most beautiful lady ever come into Charlie Chen’s poor shop. I speak this from my heart. Beauty is not plentiful in the world today. There is not much beauty. To see true beauty, this gladdens me. Makes me very happy, very happy. I talk too fast for you?”
Teddy shook her head.
“You read my lips?” He nodded appreciatively. “That very clever, very clever. Why you come visit Charlie Chen?”
Teddy looped her thumbs together and then moved her hands as if they were in flight.
“The butterfly?” Chen asked, astounded. “You want the butterfly?”
Yes, she nodded, delighted by his response.
“Oh,” he said, “ohhhhhh,” as if her acknowledgment were the fulfillment of his wildest dream. “I make very pretty. I make pretty big butterfly.”
Teddy shook her head.
“No big butterfly? Small butterfly?”
Yes.
“Ah, very clever, very clever. Delicate butterfly for pretty lady. Big butterfly no good. Small, little, pretty butterfly better. You very smart. You very beautiful, and you very smart. I do. Come. Come in. Please. Come in.”
He parted the curtains leading to the back of the shop and then gallantly bowed and stepped aside while Teddy passed through. She went directly to the butterfly design pinned to the wall. Chen smiled and then seemed to notice for the first time the calendar with its naked woman on the other wall.
“Excuse other pretty lady, please,” he said. “Stupid sons do.”
Teddy glanced at the calendar and smiled.
“You decide color?” Chen asked.
She nodded.
“Which?”
Teddy touched her hair.
“Black? Ah, good. Black very good. Little, black butterfly. Come. Sit. I do. No pain. Charlie Chen be very careful.”
He sat her down, and she watched him, beginning to get a little frightened now. Deciding to get one’s shoulder decorated was one thing. Going ahead with it was another thing again. She watched his movements as he walked around the shop preparing his tools. Her eyes were saucer wide.
“You frightened?” he asked.
She gave a very small nod.
“No be. Everything go hunky-dory. I promise. Very clean, very sanitary, very harmless.” He smiled. “Very painless, too.”
Teddy kept watching him, her heart in her mouth.
“I use very-deep black. Black no good unless really black. Otherwise is gray. Life is all full of grays, pretty lady. No sharp whites, no sharp blacks. All grays. Very sad, life is.” Chen brought a pencil and a sheet of paper to the table. He drew several circles on it, one the size of a dime, the next the size of a nickel, then the size of a quarter, and lastly, the size of a half-dollar.
“Which size do you want butterfly?” he asked.
Teddy studied the circles.
“Biggest one too big, no?” Chen asked.
Teddy nodded.
“Okay. We disintegrate.” He made a large cross over the half-dollar circle.
“Littlest one too little, yes?” he asked.
Again, Teddy nodded.
“Poof!” Chen said, and he crossed out the dime-sized circle. “Which of these two?” he asked, pointing to the nickel and the quarter.
Teddy shrugged.
“I think bigger one, no? Then Charlie can do nice lace on wings. Too small is difficult. Can do, but is difficult. Bigger one, we get nice effect, all lacy. Very pretty.” He cocked his head to one side and extended his forefinger. “But not too big. Too big no good.” He nodded. “Most things in life too big. Gray and too big. People forget blacks and whites. People forget little things. I tell you something.”
Teddy watched him, wondering if he were talking to put her at ease, realizing at the same time that he was succeeding. The panic she had felt just a few moments earlier was rapidly dissolving.
“You want listen?” Chen asked.
Teddy nodded.
“I was married very pretty lady. Shanghai. You know Shanghai?”
Teddy nodded again.
“Very nice city, Shanghai. I was tattoo there, too. Very skill art in China, tattoo. I tattoo many people. Then I marry very pretty lady. Prettiest lady in all Shanghai. Prettiest lady in all China! She give me three sons. She make me very happy. Life blacks and whites with her. Sharp, good contrast. Everything clear and bright. Everything clean. No grays. Big concern for little things. Very joyous, very happy.” Chen was nodding, lost in his reminiscence. His eyes had glazed somewhat, and Teddy watched him, feeling a sadness in the man even before he spoke his next words.
“She die,” he said. “Life very funny. Good things die early; bad ones never die. She die. Life is grey again. Have three sons, but no laughter. No more lights in Shanghai. No more people talking. No more happiness. Only empty Charlie Chen. Empty.”
He paused, and she wanted to reach out to touch his hand, to comfort him.
“I come here America. Very good country. I have trade, tattoo.” He wagged his head. “I get by, make living. Send oldest son to college; he not so stupid, as I say. Younger ones good in school, too. I learn to live. Only one thing missing. Beauty. Very hard to find beauty.” Chen smiled. “You bring beauty to my shop. I am very grateful. I do beautiful butterfly. My fingers wither and dry if I do not do beautiful butterfly. This I promise. I promise, too, no pain. This, too, I promise. You relax, yes? You unbutton blouse just a little, move off shoulder.” He paused. “Which shoulder? Left or right? Very important to decide.”
Teddy touched her left shoulder.
“Ah, no, butterfly on left shoulder bad omen. We do right, okay? You no mind? We put pretty, small, black, lacy butterfly on right shoulder, okay?”
Teddy nodded. She unbuttoned the top button of her blouse and then dipped the blouse off her shoulder.
Chen looked up from his needle suddenly.
The bell over his front door had just sounded.
Someone had entered the shop.
Seventeen
Chen may not have recognized the tall, blond man were it not for the fact that Teddy Carella was in the back of his shop, waiting to be tattooed.
For whereas the handsome blond had been an impressive figure, Chen had only seen him once, and that had been a long time ago. But now, with Teddy in the rear of the shop, with Chen keenly reminded of Teddy’s relationship to a husband who was a cop, he recognized the blond man the instant he stepped through the beaded curtains to confront him.
“Yes?” he said, and he saw the man’s face, and curiously, he automatically began thinking in Chinese. This is the man the detective seeks, he thought. The husband of the beauty who now waits to be tattooed. This is the man.
“Hello, there,” Donaldson said. “We’ve got some work for you.”
Chen’s eyes fled to the girl beside Donaldson. She was not pretty. Her hair was a mousy brown, and her eyes were a faded brown, and she wore glasses, and she peered through the glasses, she was not pretty at all. She also looked a little sick. There was a tight, drawn expression to her face, and her skin was pallid. She did not look well at all.
“What kind of work, please?” Chen asked.
“A tattoo,” Donaldson said, smiling.
Chen nodded. “A tattoo for the gentleman, yes, sir,” he said.
“No,” Donaldson corrected, “a tattoo for the lady,” and there was no longer the slightest doubt in Chen’s mind. This was the man. A girl was dead, perhaps because of this man. Chen eyed him narrowly. This man was dangerous.
“You will sit down, please?” he asked. “I be with you in one minute.”
“Hurry, won’t you?” Donaldson said. “We haven’t got much time.”