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“What does it say?” I was realizing I didn’t know much about wartime Shanghai. “If it doesn’t make me sound like not a genius to ask.”

“Every word you speak makes you sound like the genius you are. Mostly it says the opposite: the place was a nonstop end-of-the-world party. Everyone who didn’t run when the Japanese came was frantically dancing and drinking, pretending nothing had changed.”

“Party like it’s 1936? All during the war, they did that?”

“What we mean by ‘the war’ was different in Shanghai. Until ’forty-two, the only way you could tell there was war in Europe was when Europeans snubbed each other in the streets.”

“But the Chinese civil war? And the Japanese invasion?”

“The civil war had been going on for years. When the Japanese came, Mao wanted to unite with Chiang Kai-shek to fight them, but Chiang wasn’t interested. That worked for the Japanese. Chiang went inland to push Mao north, and Japan set up puppet governments and occupied the coast. Everyone left Europeans alone and Europeans made money. Until ’forty-two, that was ‘the war’ in China.”

“And in ’forty-two?”

“December ’forty-one was Pearl Harbor. A few months later the Japanese locked Allied nationals-English, Belgians, Dutch, Americans-into internment camps.”

“That’s where Alice Fairchild was, one of those. So the party was over then?”

“No. Things got ugly, but the party went on.”

“Who was left to party?”

“To start with, lots of Japanese. And Germans. Vichy French. Neutrals-Swedes, Spanish, Portuguese. Filipinos, Indians. White Russians. Wealthy Chinese.”

“Indians? Weren’t they British citizens? And Filipinos-”

“They were Asian. The Japanese didn’t lock up other Asians, no matter whose citizens they were. They wanted to be loved when they took over that half of the world and Germany took over the other. They didn’t intern the Jewish refugees, either. Japan had no argument with them. To make Germany happy, they moved them to a ghetto-”

“In Hongkew. In 1943. Rosalie and Paul went there. What, you think you’re my only source of historical information?” I looked at the Xeroxed pages. “So here’s poor Mei-lin, in 1938, in the middle of a wild party, and she can’t go.”

We exited the bridge. Bill asked, “How many entries?”

I flipped through. “Hard to say, but the last one’s dated 1943. After that the pages are blank. Oh…”

“Oh, what?”

“Oh, I’m being stupid. You saw how it threw me when Anita told us Rosalie died so young. I just remembered C.D. Zhang saying Mei-lin had disappeared. I asked him what happened and he said, ‘It was wartime.’ ”

“So you’re worried about her, too?”

“How stupid is that? I hardly know her! I mean, obviously I don’t know her at all-”

“It’s not stupid. It’s one of the best things about you.”

“How I get carried away?”

“No,” he said. “How you care.”

I shot him a suspicious look, but he was concentrating on the road as though he were new in town.

After a moment I looked at the papers again. What a day this has been! She could say that again, I thought. To Bill I said, “I have an idea.”

“Good, I like ideas.”

“I’m really hungry.”

“That’s less an idea than a description of your existential situation.”

“It was the preface. I’m suggesting we find someplace for a snack and I read to you.”

Fifteen minutes later I was guarding two stools at the stain less steel counter of Tai-Pan Bakery. Bill was at the register paying for eight-treasure rice and vegetable dumplings. Tai-Pan had not been chosen lightly. It had two virtues: The food was great, and it was on Canal smack in the middle of Jewelry Row. In fact, it was directly across from Mr. Chen’s shop.

“And the point would be?” Bill had asked when I’d suggested it.

“Mr. Chen said he hadn’t been approached by Wong Pan. That doesn’t mean he won’t be, or anyone else won’t be.”

“You think Wong Pan will show his face, if he killed that Chinese cop?”

“He still needs to sell the jewelry.”

By the time Bill brought the tray over, I’d swept the counter clear of crumbs and provided us with chopsticks. After an urgent dumpling, I took Mei-lin’s diary from my bag.

“Keep your eyes open,” I instructed Bill. “If you see Wong Pan, kick me or something.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think so. Are you ready?”

“Can’t wait.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not laughing at Mei-lin, I hope?”

“Absolutely not. I’m looking forward to this. I’ve never read a girl’s diary. Even from sixty years ago, she still might give me some idea how you people think.”

“Us people, Chinese?”

He shook his head. “You people, women.”

“Not happening,” I informed him. “Okay. This second entry’s the same date. Once she started this journal thing, I guess she got into it.” I studied the characters and began to read. “ ‘What a day this has been!’ That’s written big, with emphasis, like before. She’s pretty excitable, I guess. ‘The moment I put my pen down this morning, the car rolled through the gate. By the time I’d rushed downstairs the houseboys were fighting over the honor of carrying Kai-rong’s luggage. Number One Boy had to shout at them-they almost came to blows!

“ ‘Kai-rong swung me around and told me I looked beautiful! He hasn’t changed, his eyes still twinkle! Of course I’ve changed. I was a child when he went away, I’m a lady now. Father and Kai-rong greeted each other formally, with bows and flowery words. (Father frowned at Kai-rong’s European suit. I thought it looked wonderful!) When Father asked about the voyage Kairong said it was pleasant. Only pleasant? A month on the ocean, where you can see for miles, no walls anywhere-only pleasant???

“ ‘We had tea in the garden listening to Kai-rong’s stories. His life is so exciting! He brought gifts-a leather case for Father, Spanish hairpins for Amah (she said he was foolish to spend money on nonsense). For me-British shoes!! With high heels! Black satin for evening, red leather for day! I jumped up and hugged him in a not very ladylike way. Father disapproved of the shoes, but when he saw how happy I was he didn’t forbid me to have them.

“ ‘After Father went to lie down, Kai-rong asked me to tell him about what I’ve been doing. Nothing, I said, nothing nothing nothing! Embroidery, calligraphy, playing the pipa and feeling about to explode! Since the Japanese came Father says the streets are so dangerous I can’t go anywhere! Although I’m allowed to call on the Feng sisters, and Tsang Sui-ling, and how can the streets be dangerous except when I’m going to them?

“ ‘Kai-rong promised to speak to Father and Amah, though he also agrees the streets are more dangerous than they used to be. I said he’d been home half a day, so how would he know? That made him laugh. Be careful what you wish for, he told me, it might come true. I said that was just more ridiculous old musty advice that doesn’t mean anything. If I wish for something it’s because I want it to come true! He laughed again and asked how the shoes fit. I said, Perfectly! But it’s a shame they’ll live out their lives inside these walls instead of being seen and admired. Then he asked if I thought they’d get enough admiration at the Cathay Hotel. And was Friday too soon for them to be admired? It took me a moment to understand- He’s taking me to dinner at the Cathay Hotel!!!

“ ‘It’s late now. Everyone’s sleeping, except me. Today was so exciting, and the life I’m starting now that Kai-rong’s back is even more exciting!! The way I feel right now, I may never sleep again!’ ”

I paused for breath. “The way I feel right now, I need caffeine just to keep up with her.”

“Good.” Bill got up. “We need to pay rent on the counter.”

“Any action on the street?”

“Nothing but. No one who looked like your boy, though. It would be a hell of a stroke of luck if he just strolled past.”