guilty? That would, in fact, simplify things by giving simple answers to most of the other questions, leaving only the question, “Why?”
Two eyewitnesses with no apparent reason to lie, plus Anthony’s having the perfect opportunity in the middle of Chinese New Year’s pandemonium, were on the side of “guilty.”
As I chased the raisins through a bread pudding for dessert, I realized that the only real argument on the side of “innocent” was the straight-up look in Anthony’s eyes when he said he didn’t do it. And even lie detectors can be fooled by a clever subject.
There was one other thing, and this was the itch I couldn’t scratch. Why would poor, sweet, defenseless Red Shoes risk, and in fact give, her life to get me to help cool, together, unruffled Mei-Li, who seemed about as blissfully problem-free as Barney?
When I got home, I called Harry Wong.
He was slightly out of breath. I gathered it was not from jogging-more likely from getting to the phone while keeping his breathing as shallow as possible not to disturb the rib cage.
“How’s the recovery? Those ribs must be painful.”
“I’ve seen healthier ribs with barbecue sauce. What’re you up to, Michael? How’s the case going?”
“Well, it’s like this, Harry. I’ve got enough questions to keep Jeopardy on the air for a year. But there’s one in particular. I have just a hunch that if I can find an answer to this one, a lot of other things will fall in line.”
“Mei-Li.”
“Bothers you, too.”
“That girl actually died to get that fortune cookie to you. And for what? It was certainly wasted on Mei- Li.”
“I keep wondering what kind of help the fortune-cookie waitress was promising me. She knew I was there about the murder of Mr. Chen. She was listening to my conversation with the witness through the interpreter. Three-quarters of it was in Chinese. I think there’s only one way to find out.”
“We go back to Mei-Li.”
“One of us does. I don’t think you’re ready for another round.”
“Really, Mike? How’re you going to talk your way past the Dragon Lady?”
“I haven’t worked that one out yet.”
“I think I have. It’s going to take nerve. I know you’ve got plenty of that.”
“So tell me the plan. I’m open to suggestion.”
“It’s also going to take a knowledge of Chinese. How’re you fixed in that department?”
“Less than adequate. You’re still on the bench, Harry.”
“There’s no way you can do this without me, Mike. You’re stuck with me.”
I thought about the way Harry looked the last time I saw him. He’d have had to improve to die.
“I don’t think so. Out of curiosity, what’s the plan?”
“Here it is. You pick me up here tomorrow morning about nine.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s it. You pick me up about nine.”
“And then what?”
“And then I tell you the rest of the plan.”
“You could tell me the rest now.”
“That’s right, I could. Then I could pick up the Globe in the morning and read about how parts of some unidentified Puerto Rican-WASP were found in six different places. When they put the jigsaw puzzle together-guess who?”
“I’ll pick you up about nine.”
17
The Globe had a spread the next morning covering half a page in the city section devoted to the funeral of Mr. Chen. The silent procession of mourners through Chinatown gave testimony to how deeply a quiet, good soul can move the heart of an entire community. I found myself wishing that he could feel the outpouring of love. The funeral mass was said by the auxiliary bishop for the Chinatown area. It was an honor, but I think he would have been even more deeply touched by the tears on the faces of the line of children that extended the length of Tyler Street.
Harry was on the sidewalk outside of his apartment house at nine sharp, as advertised, bundled up in layers of clothing until only his eyes showed below the fur cap. As he got into the car, I watched him move to see how much mobility had come back. If I were a scout for the Patriots, I’d be more likely to draft Barbara Walters.
He muffled a groan as he slid his rib cage into the front seat as if it were Ming dynasty porcelain.
“So how’re you feeling, Harry?”
He turned his head three degrees. “Terrific. You want to wrestle?”
I sat there looking at him. “This is crazy.”
“Just drive, Mike. It’s early. I get better as the morning goes on. Drive to Chinatown. Come at it from the South Station side. Just park as close as you can. I want to get to that place on Beach Street without walking past the no-name coffee shop.”
I put the car in gear and looked for a way to make a U-turn on Memorial Drive.
“Harry, what’s with the outfit? Is it that cold? You look like Na-nook of the North End.”
He squinted crosswise at me. “You’re saying I look Italian?”
I took another look and had the first good laugh I’d had since I gave up laughing-around the time this case began. He was referring to the fact that the North End of Boston is the domain primarily of people with more vowels in their names than Harry could buy on Wheel of Fortune.
“What you look like is Outer Mongolian.”
“It’s partly disguise. The idea is to get through to the Dragon Lady for five minutes before the boys come out to play. Actually, three minutes would do it. Do you have a hat with you?”
“In the back. I only wear it if it’s below zero.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me look like Henry Osterwald, Harvard, class of ’94. You remember our classmate, the king of hats?”
He managed to look at me sideways. His neck had loosened up a good ten degrees. “Is it that bad?”
“I don’t wear it until everyone else’s eyelids are frozen shut.”
“How about when a Chinese street gang would like to separate your ears by about six feet?”
“Then, too. Tell me the plan.”
Harry didn’t start right away. He seemed to be checking the extent of ice that rimmed the sides of the Charles River.
“I think it’s time you knew a little more about the culture you’re invading, Mike. This goes back a ways. You’ve heard of the tongs.”
“Sure.”
“You know much about them?”
“No.”
“A tong was like a club, an association. The word ‘tong’ means ‘hall,’ ‘gathering place.’ They were first set up in San Francisco. There was a wave of immigrants that came over to work on the railroads and the gold mines. They were pretty close to slave labor. They had to look to each other for protection. Some of the large families banded together for mutual support. Anyone with a name like ‘Lee’ or ‘Liu’ had plenty of relatives to form a family association. But the ones who didn’t belong to a large family were out of luck. They formed the first tongs. They grew pretty fast, because they could recruit anyone, regardless of family name. You’ve heard of the tong wars.”
“Long time ago.”
“Right. Originally, the purpose of the tongs was pretty good. Mutual protection and help. And heaven knows they needed it. They were in a strange country, and not exactly embraced with open arms.
