“What kind of car, do you know?”
“Black.”
“Was anyone else with them?”
“No. Woman and man only.” Fung looked up at Giulia.
“Did they seem happy or unhappy?”
“Not happy. Man very angry. Door close. Bang!”
Mary felt her gut tense. “Did the man yell? Shout?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“Wo bu zhi dao. Don’t know.” Fung pointed to his ear, and Mary understood he didn’t hear that well.
“What was the woman doing?”
Fung shook his head.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.”
“Was she crying?”
“No.”
“Did she call to you, or anybody?”
“No.”
Mary got a bad feeling. “What time was this, about?”
“Six thirty exact. I go store.”
Giulia interjected, “I told you, he goes to the store at six thirty because the luck is better.”
Mary asked, “Did the woman have a purse?” She held up her purse. “Purse?”
Fung thought a minute. “Yes.”
“Did they have a suitcase?”
Fung frowned, not understanding.
“A suitcase is like a big purse.” Mary wanted to double-check and played charades for a second. “Like for a trip, for vacation.”
Fung frowned, not understanding.
Giulia held up her huge purse. “Suitcase.”
Fung shook his head, with a smile for her. “No.”
Good. “And they drove away?”
“Yes.”
“Which way?”
Fung pointed north.
It told Mary nothing. She didn’t know why she’d even asked. “Did the woman see you, do you think?”
“Don’t know. I go corner. She go car.”
“Did she try to signal you? Show you a sign?”
“No.”
“Were other people on the street?”
“Yes. Family. Baby.”
Mary looked at Giulia. “I thought you said nobody saw anything.”
“Like I said, you wanna be the one who IDs him?”
Good point. Mary paused. “Fung, is there anything else you can remember about what you saw?”
“No.”
“Okay, thank you.” Mary stuck a hand in her purse and extracted her wallet, then slipped out a business card and handed it to him. “This has my phone number. Please feel free to call if you remember anything else.”
Fung took the card, then looked up at Giulia. “You have?”
“Awww,” Giulia said, and kissed him on the cheek.
Fifteen minutes later, they were back in another cab, with Mary giving another aged driver the address and the Mean Girls squeezing in the backseat. She took the seat up front again, feeling like the chaperone on a field trip of underachievers. She twisted around in the seat and eyed Giulia, whose red highlights blew in the breeze from the open window. “You did a good job, girl.”
“Hmph,” was Giulia’s only reply. She’d barely said a word since Mary had rebuked her in front of Fung.
“We helped, too,” Yolanda said, beside her, and Missy nodded.
“My feet are killin’ me from all that walkin’.”
“You all did great. Fung placed Trish’s departure in time and confirms our working theory.” Mary managed a smile, but Giulia still held her grudge. “By the way, I’m curious, did you guys know that they were sleeping in separate beds?”
“Get out.” Giulia came to life, her dark eyes wide.
“For real?” Yolanda asked, blinking.
“Why didn’t she tell us?” Missy raised a permanent eyebrow.
“That’s my question.” Mary looked to Giulia for the answer, and so did the others.
“I guess she was embarrassed?”
“Why?” Mary asked. “She told you they were having problems. She told you she wanted out, right?”
Giulia nodded, curls blowing in her face, and she speared one with a long nail and pushed it back.
“So, why?” Mary asked again.
Yolanda slid her gaze toward Giulia. “We woulda blabbed it.”
“We would not!” Giulia shot back. A frown folded in the shape of a pitchfork on her forehead.
“You woulda,” Missy said, and Mary let them fight it out, watching.
Giulia: “I can’t believe you said that, Miss! I wouldn’ta told nobody.”
Yolanda: “Who you kidding, G? You woulda told Joey.”
Giulia: “Well, yeah, Joey. I mean, whaddaya think, I’m married to the guy.”
Yolanda: “Just ’cause you’re married don’t mean you have to tell him everything.”
Giulia: “No? That’s why you’re divorced. Twice.”
Yolanda: “Whatever, Joey woulda told Tommy and Tommy woulda told Jerry and Jerry woulda told Johnny Three Fingers who woulda told Cooch, who hangs at Biannetti’s because he’s a wannabe. And Cooch woulda told the boys at Biannetti’s and T woulda gotten herself dead.”
The Mean Girls fell silent, suddenly chastened. Giulia said, “She’s right. That’s exactly what woulda happened. That’s why T didn’t tell us.”
Mary still didn’t get it. “But Trish told you that he roughed her up. Why is it okay to blab that and not that they had separate beds?”
Giulia snorted. “Hello? One makes him look like a man, and the other makes him look like a jerk.”
Mary didn’t have to ask which was which. She’d already learned more than she wanted to know about Trish’s world. They all fell silent again, and the cab lurched through the streets, the driver pretending he wasn’t watching the girls in the rearview and the traffic increasing as the noon rush approached. On the radio, KYW news was reporting still no suspects in the disappearance of baby Sabine Donchess, who turned out to be the only daughter of the Gentech CEO. Even the governor had weighed in, already calling it the crime of the century.
“Stupid baby,” Giulia muttered, looking out the window.
Mary changed the subject. “By the way, Trish did keep a diary.”
“No, she didn’t,” Giulia said, certain.
“Then what’s this?” Mary teased the diary from her purse, and the Mean Girls reached for it, talons outstretched.
“Gimme that!” Giulia said.
“What’d she say about me?” Yolanda asked.
“And me?” Missy asked.
“Sorry.” Mary slid the diary back into her purse, gloating like crazy. “I’m surprised at you guys. I would think you’d respect Trish’s privacy.”
“Oh, come on.” Giulia snorted. “You read it, didn’t you?”
“Of course, but I can. It’s covered by attorney-client privilege.” Sorta kinda.
