The Misfortune Cookie

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?”

“Oh, man,” I said grumpily. “This means I’ll have to talk to him, Lucky.”

He frowned. “I know you had a big fight with him at Bella Stella, and he wound up arresting you. But maybe . . .” Lucky sighed and shook his head. “Wait a minute. Forget it. What was I even thinking? I’m sorry, kid. If I wasn’t climbing the walls here, I wouldn’t even have asked. I know better. I shouldn’t be sending you to talk to that guy after—”

“No, no, it’s important,” I said quickly. “And I want to help you. And the Chens, too, who I’m sure you don’t want to put in danger.”

“No way do I want them to get in trouble because of me.”

“So I’ll just have to talk to Lopez,” I said firmly. “For your sake. And theirs.”

“Are you sure?” he asked with concern.

I lifted my chin. “I can do this. Don’t worry about me, Lucky.”

God, you’re pathetic, Esther. And despicable.

I had no idea how I was going to approach Lopez, let alone how I’d manage to sound casual while quizzing him about his activities in Chinatown and/or the hunt for Lucky Battistuzzi. But at least I’d get to talk to him. Once I could think of a suitable pretense for it, that was.

You swore you’d stop thinking about him. You swore you’d move on!

Especially after the god-awful events of New Year’s. When I tried to imagine how that night could have been any more humiliating, I came up blank.

Yet here I was, volunteering—more or less—to get in touch with Lopez.

I didn’t even know why I wanted to see him.

To demand an apology from him? To get an explanation for his behavior? To say all the cutting things to him that I only thought of after the squad car had pulled away from the curb that night?

Or maybe I’d tear off his clothes, indulge in hours of steamy sex with him, and then just not call him—not even after promising to call.

Okay, stop right there. There will be no removing of clothes and no indulging in sex. Are we agreed? If not, then you can’t get in touch with him. I absolutely forbid it.

Well . . .

Agreed or not?

Oh, fine, then. Fine. No sex. Clothes stay on. Agreed!

“Maybe I should just bring him a misfortune cookie,” I muttered.

“Don’t even joke about that,” said Lucky. “I’m telling you, I got a real serious feeling about this. Benny Yee was cursed with death. And you know what that means.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“The killer ain’t gonna stop with Benny.” After a moment, he added, “You better go join them at the wake. Oh, and I forgot to tell Max—keep Nelli away from the food.”

“They’ve got food?” I asked. “At a wake?”