“Tomorrow or the next day.”
“But you haven’t checked out of the Waldorf?”
“It’s tourist season. I have the room booked for two weeks. If I give it up I’ll never get another. I’ll call you when I’m back.”
“No, wait. This is really important. Have you spoken to your clients in Zurich?”
“Yes, I told them what had happened. They agreed we should suspend the search for the jewelry until Joel’s murder is solved. I’m sorry, I know-”
“Alice, what do you know about them?”
“About the Kleins?”
“That’s the name they gave you?”
“What do you mean?”
“They told you they’re Horst Peretz’s daughter’s sons?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Alice, Horst Peretz didn’t have a daughter. He never had any children.”
A pause. “Lydia, what are you saying?”
“That’s why I asked what you know about them.”
“What do you mean, Horst never had children? How do you know that?”
“Because Rosalie did. She and Chen Kai-rong had a son, and I’ve met him, and he told me.”
A much longer pause. “You’ve met him? He’s still alive? He’s in New York?”
“Yes. He recognized the jewelry photos.”
“Oh, my God. You’re sure? Rosalie’s son?”
“Yes. When you get back I’ll introduce you. But then-”
“Yes, I follow you. Then who are my clients?”
“Right. So you can see-”
“Have you told this to Detective Mulgrew?”
“You can’t believe he’d care. But Alice, there’s more. The police found Wong Pan’s hotel.”
She caught her breath. “They found him?”
“No, just where he’d been staying. But he seems to have tried to call you. At the Waldorf. He didn’t get you, did he?”
“Wong Pan? Of course not. What do you mean, he seems to have tried to call me?”
“A pay phone near his hotel called the Waldorf.”
“Oh. But that could be coincidence.”
“It could. There’s another thing, though, and it’s bad: The police think Wong Pan killed someone. A cop from Shanghai who’d followed him here.”
“The Shangahi police followed him?”
“But the cop was murdered. In Wong Pan’s room.”
“My God. Lydia, this is… But then, you have spoken to the police.”
“Not to Mulgrew. To a detective friend of mine, who’s… involved.”
“Lydia, I want you to listen to me. I need to think about this. About the Kleins. I’ll call them in Zurich as soon as it’s morning there. And I’ll come back to New York tomorrow and we’ll talk. But this is important: If what you’re saying is true, you have got to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Lydia! Stop working on this case! Tell Detective Mulgrew, tell your detective friend, and then leave it alone. If Wong Pan killed someone, if my clients are lying to me-whatever this means, one thing that’s clear, the situation is dangerous. It sounds likely now that Joel’s murder may well be part of this case. And I want you out of it! I won’t be responsible for you getting hurt.”
“Alice, this is my choice. You’re not responsible, but I can’t just-”
“Lydia, I fired you to keep you safe. You must stop.”
“I don’t feel like I can.”
“What do you want me to do, get a restraining order?”
I came to a screeching halt. “What?”
“This is my business. I hired you, I fired you, and now you won’t leave it alone. If it’s the only way I can keep you out of danger, I’ll do it. Please, Lydia. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“You can’t do that,” I said, wondering if she could.
“Lydia, please. Leave it alone until I get back tomorrow. We’ll decide how best to move forward from there.”
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. “Will you call me as soon as you’re back in New York?”
“Yes.”
“All right. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I clicked off. It was possible my voice sounded a little more resigned, a little less resolute, than I felt. Alice could interpret that however she wanted. I never actually said I’d give up the case, though, and she couldn’t quote me as saying I had. Because, in fact, she was wrong on one particular.
She hadn’t hired me. Joel had.
16
I called Bill, got voice mail, told him we were fired again and to call me. Then I gathered up my things and started to move.
In five minutes I was back on the other end of Canal. Outside Bright Hopes I paused, letting my gaze sweep the rings, the necklaces, and the ridiculously adorable gold zodiac animals on a Plexiglas Milky Way. This was the bridge between earth and heaven, where the Weaver Maid and the Shepherd meet once a year for all eternity, brought together by their steadfast love.
Behind the jewels and silly animals, Irene Ng’s smiling face appeared. She came around and opened the door. “Did you want something? Mr. Chen’s not here, but I’d be happy to help you.”
“I wanted Mr. Chen, so I guess I’m out of luck. Is there somewhere I can reach him?”
“He didn’t say. I’ll tell him you were looking for him.”
“What about his cousin? Zhang Li?”
“Oh, I have no idea. He comes here a lot, but his business is on Mott Street. Do you want me to call him for you?”
That sounded like a good idea. Zhang Li might be in to Irene Ng even if he wasn’t in to me.
But no. Smiling apologetically, she put the phone down. “Fay doesn’t know where he is or when he’ll be back.”
Well, at least Fay’s story was consistent. “Thanks.” I peered into a case of rings. “I’ll bet you enjoy your work. Around these beautiful things all day.”
“Oh, yes! I’m just learning, but I love it. Mr. Chen knows everything about stones and settings. And he’s nice, very patient even when I’m being hopeless. Mr. Zhang says Mr. Chen’s mother was just like that.”
“They seem very close, Mr. Zhang and Mr. Chen.”
“Yes. Like brothers.”
I had to smile. “I have four brothers. Do you suppose when we’re all old we’ll get along that well?”
“I’m not sure age helps.” She cocked a dubious head. “From what I hear, Mr. Chen and Mr. Zhang were always much closer than Mr. Zhang and his actual brother.”
“Mr. Zhang had a brother?”
“Has. A half brother, about ten years older. The same father, different mothers.” To my surprised silence she said, “C. D. Zhang. You don’t know about him?”
“I certainly don’t. Tell me.”
“Oh, there’s nothing special to tell. He imports jewelry. His business is a few blocks down Canal Street.”
“He’s here?”
“He’s been here much longer than Mr. Chen and Mr. Zhang. He actually sponsored them to come. He was so happy when they asked him to help, he told me once. But I don’t think it’s worked out the way he wanted.”
“Why not?”
“I think he thought they’d all be, you know, family. Hang out together. Mr. Chen and Mr. Zhang, they do that, kids and grandkids, that kind of thing. At Thanksgiving and Chinese New Year they include C. D. Zhang, but otherwise, they just aren’t that close with him.”
I left Irene Ng dusting jade bracelets and hurtled down Canal. Mr. Chen and Mr. Zhang might not be close with C. D. Zhang, but close to was a different matter. My phone call barely got to C. D. Zhang before I did. On the second floor of a wide-windowed building not far from my office, a secretary with a frizzy Chinatown perm ushered me through the boss’s door. “Lydia Chin,” she announced in English.
“The private detective!” A tall, spry old man jumped from behind a flat monitor remarkably at home on an antique scholar’s desk. “So intriguing! Please, come in.”
Bony and quick, with broad shoulders and a lined and leathery face, C. D. Zhang was clearly older than both his half brother, Zhang Li, and his cousin, Chen Lao-li. He gestured me to a thin-armed rosewood chair of the kind I’d seen in museums and always wondered whether they were comfortable.