“Does anyone know,” Max asked, “what became of the—”
“Who’s Mary?” I asked.
“Mary Fox,” said John. “She’s one of the two female leads. Well, she was. Now that she’s laid up with a broken—”
“Is she Chinese?” I asked urgently. I’m versatile, but there was no way I’d be cast as a Chinese character.
“No, Mary’s white. The lead character in the movie is an ABC who’s trying to choose between two women. One of them is—”
“ABC?” I repeated.
He smiled. “American Born Chinese. Like me.”
Max said, “About the fortune that was in this cookie . . .”
“So Mary Fox was playing the white girl?” I said. “And now that she’s broken her leg, the role will have to be recast?”
“Um, I don’t know. I would think so,” said John. “But that’s Ted’s call. And he’s got a lot on his mind right now, since—”
“Yeah, Benny’s death,” I said. “Whatever. Look, John, I’m an actress.”
“A professional,” Lucky added helpfully. “Esther’s been on TV.”
“Oh?” said John with interest. Then: “Oh.”
“Can you introduce me to Ted?” I asked.
“Of course,” said John. “I’m sure he’s here tonight. The deceased is his uncle, after all.”
“Oh. Right.” That sank in now. “Sorry. I should have . . . I mean, this might not be the best time for me to ask to read for his movie.”
“Oh, it’s probably all right,” said John. “To be honest, Ted won’t miss Benny—just his money.”
“Pardon?”
“Benny was backing Ted’s film.”
“Ted’s lost his backer?” I asked in dismay.
“Well, there’s still cash left from Benny’s initial investment,” said John. “And Ted is optimistic about getting more investment.”
“Okay. Good. I’d like to meet him. Right away.” I stood up.
So did John. “All right.”
“Does anyone know,” Max asked loudly, “what happened to the fortune that may have cursed Benny Yee with death?”
“Oh, sure,” said Lucky, looking surprised by Max’s volume. “I got John to ask Mrs. Yee for it today.”
John said wearily, “He really did get me to do that.”
“I figured you’d want to see it,” Lucky said to Max. “And since handling it after Benny’s death didn’t kill the missus, I didn’t think it would kill us, either.”
“She kept it?” I asked curiously.
“When she saw it, she wasn’t sure what to make of it,” said John. “She thought it must be something to do with the Five Brothers. So she took it home with her.”
“In case it turned out to be evidence?”
“Maybe. Or maybe just to keep it out of strangers’ hands. I’m not sure.”
While John was speaking, Lucky was retrieving a sealed plastic bag from a drawer in one of the desks. Inside the transparent bag was a slip of black paper, barely an inch wide, maybe three inches long. Lucky didn’t open the bag when he showed it to us. The black paper had a single Chinese character on it, painted in delicate white calligraphy.
“White,” murmured Max. “The color of death.”
The symbol looked like expressionist art to me, like a few random brush strokes arranged in a pleasing shape. It was hard for me to see why it would have inspired fear in Benny Yee.
“What exactly does this character mean?” I asked John.
“It depends on context,” he said. “Which we don’t have here. But the meaning can be die, dead, death, condemned to die. Any of those.”
“I’m going with ‘condemned to die,’” said Lucky. “It’s a curse!”
“May I take this back to my laboratory to study it?” Max asked.
“Yes. In fact, I’d prefer that,” said John. “I don’t consider myself superstitious, but I wish Uncle Lucky hadn’t insisted on having this thing here, and I’ll be glad to get rid of it. It was written with malice, and it led to someone’s death.”
That much seemed certain. The question I knew Max was pondering, as he studied the item in the bag, was whether it had inflicted Benny’s death. If so, then we needed to figure out how and when the next victim would be chosen. Because if this was mystical murder, then there would certainly be another victim sooner or later—probably sooner. Max always said that Evil was voracious, and events had repeatedly proved he was right about that. So although I thought John’s interpretation of Benny’s death was reasonable, I knew that Max had to investigate, in case Lucky was right.
“Before you take that home with you, though,” said Lucky, “you gotta check out the suspects.”
“Pardon?”
“Benny’s wake.” Lucky jerked his chin in the direction of the Chinese funeral parlor. “If you mingle, maybe you can spot the killer there. I’d bet fifty grand that he’s here tonight.”
“Why?” I asked. “Attending your victim’s wake seems unnecessarily melodramatic.”
“Not to mention being in questionable taste,” added Max.
“People do it all the time,” Lucky insisted. Which made me realize he might have done it.
John met Lucky’s eyes. “Uncle Lucky might be right. Whoever sent Benny that cookie must have known him. And everyone who knows Benny is bound to turn up for his send-off.”
“Well, then.” Max slipped the death curse into his pocket. “Let’s go meet the visitors. Come, Nelli. The game is afoot!”
“Um, Dr. Zadok,” said John. “I don’t think you can bring a dog to the visitation.”
“Oh, I really think I should,” said Max. “It would be advantageous for Nelli to examine the corpse for remnants of mystical influence, in the unlikely event that any such residue lingers now that the deceased has been prepared for burial.”
“Huh?”
“And if there are demonic or mystical beings present, she may well be able to detect them.”
“O . . . kay.” John looked to me and Lucky for help.
“It’s best to go along with this,” said Lucky.
I nodded my agreement, though I felt sorry for John, who’d have to explain to his father, his brother, and probably the Yee family why he had allowed an enormous dog (and not a particularly well-behaved one) to prowl around the wake.
“You two go ahead,” said Lucky. “There’s something I need to discuss with Esther in private. She’ll catch up.”
John nodded. “Dr. Zadok and I are the only two people at this wake who you know, Esther, so we should be pretty easy to spot when you come through the door.”
I nodded and watched them exit the room, with Nelli stepping lively as she accompanied them out the door. Then I turned to Lucky. “What’s up?”
“I got a little additional problem that I need your help with. I don’t like to drag you into this, but it’s important,” he said. “And most of my resources ain’t available for the time being.”
“I’ll help you in any way I can, Lucky.” As long as he didn’t ask me to break the law, that was. “What is it?”
He blew out his breath with his lower lip. “Well, your boyfr . . . I mean, Detective Lopez is poking around Chinatown.”
“What?” I blurted in surprise. “Do you think he suspects you’re hiding here?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to find out enough to be sure. It don’t seem like he’s looking in the right places, but I can’t think of why else he’d be in Chinatown right now.”
“Oh, no.” I realized what this favor was. “You want me to find out why Lopez is here?”
“And you need to do it without him knowing that’s what you’re asking. Because he’s the type who’ll figure out real quick why you’re asking, once he realizes what you’re asking.” Lucky asked, “Do you think you can do it?”