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Skeleton Women

Page 33

by Mingmei Yip


  After love, we cuddled against each other, but Jinying looked sad.

  “What’s the matter, Jinying?”

  “I love you very much, Camilla, but ... why do you stay with my father?”

  “I told you, no woman can afford to say no to your father. I still love this life, even though it’s been nothing but misery and struggling to survive.” I realized that I’d just spoken from my heart, something I often thought I did not have.

  “But, Camilla, don’t you feel any joy being with me?”

  I was afraid to say it out loud, so I said, “How can we have a future together?”

  “Camilla, do you love me?”

  I was even more afraid to say this, so somewhat guiltily I tried to put off this line of questioning. So I asked, “Jinying, can we not engage in a discussion about something so abstract but just enjoy our moments together?”

  “Camilla, this is not a discussion of philosophy, but of feelings, our feelings. My love for you is real, not abstract. My heart is aching right now.”

  “Jinying, if you want me to be honest, then I’ll tell you—I don’t really know how I feel anymore.” Again, I regretted what I’d just said. Why couldn’t I really have been honest and poured out my heart to him?

  “Do you like my father?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  His mention of his father only served to remind me that I needed to figure a way out of my predicament as quickly as possible. My only hope to placate Big Brother Wang was to uncover Lung’s secrets.

  But meanwhile, there were still Jinying’s feelings to deal with.

  “Sorry, Camilla, I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay. I need time... .”

  “I understand... .”

  While he went into the bathroom, I went down to the kitchen to get him a glass of milk. When he came back, he drank the milk and soon fell asleep, having not suspected that I had added a sedative. I felt terrible deceiving him in yet another way, but I had no choice.

  While he slept soundly, I took the opportunity to more fully explore the villa. I began upstairs but, finding nothing, stepped softly down the stairs to continue my search for the secret hiding place I was certain must exist. I even looked inside the radio to see if it was a safe in disguise. But still no luck.

  Frustrated, I sat down on the living room sofa to think. If Lung’s safe was not in this secret mansion, then I would probably never be able to find it. I got back up and paced around the room, racking my spy’s brain as I scrutinized everything.

  Now I was worried about the time. Maybe I should go back upstairs, in case Jinying woke up and found that I was not in bed. I looked at my wrist but saw only my pearl bracelet. My watch had been left somewhere in the tangle of clothes on the bedroom floor. I glanced up at the grandfather clock, only to be reminded that it was not working. The two hands had not budged from 10:38.

  Feeling tired and frustrated, I sat back down on the sofa. Then my eyes again landed on the antique timepiece, looking forlorn in its lonely corner. It was almost six feet tall, with a reddish dark wood case and a white face that seemed to be reflecting on past glories. The pendulum was still; otherwise the gentle swinging would have generated some qi, as well as dreamy music when it sounded the hours.

  It was a gorgeous piece of craftsmanship. But, however pleasing to the eye, a clock should still tell the time. Lung had no tolerance for failure. Why, then, would he keep something that failed to do its job? He certainly would not pay for a beautiful woman if her gorgeous legs were stuck together and refused to spread, so why pay for a clock that didn’t move? So Lung must have a use for this clock; I just did not know what it was. In the luminous metal I studied my own reflection, a portrait of bewilderment and anxiety.

  My eyes strayed to the nearby writing table. Again I studied the scholar’s items on top—rice paper, ink stone, ink sticks, mountain-like brush stand—and again I had the sense that these were props rather than functional objects.

  I went to take a closer look, and reached to lift up the brush holder. To my surprise, it refused to budge! Looking more closely, I saw that a small hole had been drilled in the wood behind the brush holder, with what looked like an electrical wire running through it. I tried pushing down hard on the middle hill. There was a whirring sound, and the front panel of the grandfather clock swung open. Inside was what I had been looking for—a safe!

  But my elation subsided as quickly as it came. Yes, I’d found the safe, but not the combination to open it.

  So, what to do? I had to think fast, before Jinying woke up!

  But there was no way I could guess the combination. Lung had many favorite numbers that he thought were lucky for him. As I racked my brain to remember them, my eyes continued to study the clock. Then it was as if a bomb exploded in my head. The hands, pointed to ten thirty-eight—a ten, a three and an eight. The most lucky of lucky numbers.

  Yes!

  Again I dashed to the clock. Just then I heard Jinying’s sleepy voice from upstairs. “Camilla, what are you doing? Please come back to bed. I miss you.”

  Obviously he had no idea what I was up to. I hoped he was too groggy from the sedative to think clearly. I exhaled deeply, then dashed upstairs to the master bedroom, where he was sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

  “Jinying, go back to sleep. I’ll be back in a moment. I just have to go to the bathroom.” I gently eased him back down onto his pillow.

  “Give me a kiss.”

  As soon as I did, he fell asleep again, like an obedient child.

  I tiptoed back down to the living room and dashed over to the clock. Hands shaking, I twirled the handle in order to 1-0-3-8 and felt a wave of relief as I heard the sound of gears turning and saw the door swing open. I peered inside. At long last I was face-to-face with Lung’s secret stash. Finally my long years of sweating and agonizing were about to be rewarded. Inside were piled bundles of documents, gold and silver coins, thick wads of American dollars, what looked like stocks and bonds, and most important, Lung’s bank books and a big jade seal.

  My plan had always been to photograph everything with my lipstick camera so that when Lung came back, he wouldn’t suspect a thing. But now I changed my mind. Why photograph them when I could just as easily make off with them? So I made a quick detour into the kitchen, where I had seen a burlap rice bag. I dumped the rice out and sped back into the living room. Holding the bag open, I started to fill it with bundles of cash and as many gold coins as I thought I could carry. Then I took the bank books and, most important, the big jade seal. The seal was literally the key to Lung’s bank accounts, but now it would be the key to my own freedom. With the seal I could go to the bank and draw out all his money. Although he must have secret accounts elsewhere, there was more in these than I would ever need. More than enough for me to seek a life outside Shanghai, even in America.

  I thought I was pretty clever to have figured out that the combination to the safe was 10-3-8, the time at which the clock was stopped. The pronunciation of 10 is shi, which rhymes with must, 3 is san, which rhymes with living, and 8 is ba, which rhymes with fortune. So these numbers meant, “must bring life and wealth.” I smiled to myself, because now these numbers meant my good fortune, instead of Lung’s.

  Now that I had what I wanted, I wished I could just sneak out of the mansion and make my escape. But it was now past midnight, and, though I knew how to drive, I had no idea where I was or how to get back to Shanghai. Nor could I bring myself to leave Jinying without saying good-bye. I knew if I did, he would go mad with worry. I did not want to be alone again, but it seemed to be my karma.

  33

  The Master’s Return

  Though I knew I needed to do something, and quickly, I allowed myself a few moments to gloat over my loot, relishing my pending life as a free woman. But then suddenly the phone rang, startling me. I couldn’t possibly answer it myself; if it were Lung or Zhu, how could I explain my presence here? As I hesitated, I saw Jinying walk groggily do
wn the stairs, then rush to the telephone and snatch up the receiver. He had not noticed the open safe, so I pushed it closed as quietly as I could, hid the burlap bag behind me, then sat still, listening carefully to the one-sided conversation.

  “Yes, Father, how are you doing?”

  “You are? When?” He cast me an extremely worried and disappointed look.

  “All right. Yes, of course, Father.”

  He hung up, then turned to me, his face as pale as a ghost’s. “My father is coming back now.”

  “He’s coming here? How come?” I felt my heart stop like the grandfather clock.

  “The gun deal fell through, and a few of his people were wounded, so he’s coming back early, and he wants to hide out here for a while.”

  “When will he be here?”

  “I don’t know exactly; he didn’t say.” He went on, looking extremely upset. “Camilla, there’s not a lot of time. You have to pack and leave. If he comes here and finds you, we’ll both be dead!”

  He collapsed onto the sofa next to me.

  “Jinying,” I blurted out involuntarily, “why don’t we leave together?”

  “Do you mean it? My father expects me to greet him when he arrives. I told him I would be here, practicing the piano.”

  “Let’s leave Shanghai! Together! Now!” Before he had a chance to respond, I added. “Jinying, this is the best time to escape from your father’s control.”

  “I don’t have much cash. Besides, where will we go, and what will we do?”

  “I have money, a lot. Why don’t we leave right away?”

  “Why are you carrying a lot of money?” he asked, looking puzzled.

  Of course I was not going to tell him the truth. “Jinying, please, you have been asking me to go away with you. This is our chance!”

  “But what about if my father chases us down?”

  Of course I knew that Wang’s men were also likely to arrive soon if they had not already.

  “They won’t find us if we go somewhere far away, like America or Europe,” I said, while giving him a push. “Go pack now! I’ll wait right here. Go!”

  I needed a moment to think. What if I walked out of this mansion now and left the two gangs to confront each other? If both gangster heads got killed, then neither one would chase me down. That meant I’d be totally free. But what if they killed Jinying too?

  As I tried to clear my head, I was stunned by thunder so loud, it seemed as if both the sky and my eardrums were splitting. In no time, raindrops fell like dried beans, hitting hard on the windows and hissing as if the garden’s angry snake was directly outside. I looked out the window, but everything was obscured by curtains of water. Maybe Guan Yin was finally having mercy on me and was sending the rain so I could escape with the strategy, “Fool heaven and cross the sea.”

  Just then Jinying dashed down the stairs carrying our suitcases.

  He looked as pale as a ghost. “I think I saw a car coming. You’d better hide right away!”

  But it was too late. We heard fists pound at the door, echoing the murderous thunder. Jinying dashed to the door. A group of tough-looking men I did not recognize marched inside, weapons in hand. But not Master Lung.

  I quickly realized that these were not Lung’s underlings, but Big Brother Wang’s! Had they just tracked us down? More likely they somehow knew that Lung and his entourage were coming here now.

  One of the would-be murderers pointed a gun at Jinying’s head, then dragged him under the piano, banging his head. The rest of the men, about ten of them, hid behind the furniture and the huge urns. Then, when no one seemed to be paying much attention to me, I dragged my burlap bag and purse and squeezed myself into a cabinet by the entrance. My contortionist training might now save my life!

  In a moment we heard cars swishing through the rain and pulling to a stop. I opened the cabinet door slightly to peek and saw the door open to let in Lung, Zhu, Gao, and several of Lung’s men.

  For once they were taken completely off guard as a barrage of gunfire exploded from Wang’s assassins. Through the smoke I thought I saw Lung collapse, followed by one of his bodyguards.

  In the confusion I could hear screaming but could not tell if my patron was dead or, if wounded, how severely. Now bullets seemed to fly everywhere, resounding like the wails of hungry ghosts bent on revenge. Blood splattered on walls, mirrors, and furniture. Bodies lay on the floor, some writhing, some motionless with wide-open, sightless eyes. The floor was covered with shards of glass, wooden splinters, and blood.

  There was another clap of thunder, and the lights suddenly went out. I sprang from my cabinet, grabbed my bag and purse, and found Jinying, who was lying fazed but uninjured under the piano, where he had been pushed by Wang’s man. I helped him to his feet. He shook his head, as if to clear his brain, then led me through the kitchen to a back exit. Running through the soaking rain, we quickly reached his car and climbed in. In a moment he had started the engine and floored the gas pedal. The car shot out as if from a cannon into the cover of the darkness and pouring rain. Amid the thunder and confusion, it was unlikely that the fighting gangs within were even aware of our escape.

  Finally, when we were a few miles away from the villa, Jinying pulled to a stop off the road. Big beads of perspiration oozed down his forehead. His hands trembled on the steering wheel, their knuckles the color of his piano’s white keys.

  He turned to me, a muscle in his face twitching. “Camilla, what happened? Did you tell those people about my father’s villa?”

  I didn’t answer his question but said, “Let’s go to the harbor right now and take the next ship leaving Shanghai!”

  We had been lucky to escape the killing spree, but whichever gang won would be certain to come after us, once they realized that I had emptied Lung’s safe. And if Wang won, Jinying would be in danger, too.

  He looked at the rain pelting his window, then back at me. “Camilla, why are you so calm? Do you never feel anything? A lot of people are dead, maybe even my father!”

  “But you said you hated him and wanted him dead.”

  “You ... don’t understand. Who are you, Camilla? Did you send for those men to kill my father? Answer me!”

  Maybe this was the moment to tell him the truth about myself. I wouldn’t be in any worse danger right now if I did. I suddenly hoped that if he knew all about me, he would still love me and escape with me from Shanghai. But despite his previous protestations of hating his father, it was clear that he loved him, after all. Would he choose me over his comfortable life here, or would he instead tip off his father, assuming he was alive, to my escape plan? If Lung had survived the shootout, he would stop at nothing to track me down and get his treasure back, then kill me in the most agonizing way possible. Jinying’s choice would decide if I lived or died.

  I desperately wanted to reveal my secrets and stop this life of lies and deceit. But I couldn’t bear the thought that he’d suddenly stop loving me, maybe even shun me like a leper.

  So I said, “Jinying, I don’t know who I am anymore... .”

  His tone softened. “Camilla, you are the best thing in my life... .”

  His last sentence seemed to draw out my whole life’s miseries like a magnet a needle. My tears now flooded down my cheeks, as if the dam holding back my emotions had finally collapsed.

  Jinying held me. “Camilla, no matter what happens, I will never love anyone as I love you.”

  It was the only time I had ever felt my heart truly touched by a man. For a moment, despite our present danger, I felt a glimpse of freedom.

  Jinying spoke again. “Camilla, you owe me at least to tell me what happened.”

  “Jinying, everyone knows I am your father’s mistress. And everyone knows you are his son. Unfortunately, your father has many enemies. Any of them could have followed us there.” This was the truth, but by no means all of it.

  I was about to go on, but then we heard a car speeding in our direction, and Jinying called out, “Let’s
get out of here!”

  But it was too late.

  Zhu jumped from his car, dashed to ours, swung open the door, and pulled Jinying out onto the ground.

  Jinying’s hand moved to cover his head as he yelled to me, “Camilla, run!”

  “But you’re hurt! I can’t leave you!”

  “He’s not after me, only you. Go!”

  He tried to pull Zhu away from me but was knocked down again.

  Now Zhu dashed around to open my door and tried to drag me out by my hair.

  One hand covering his bleeding head, Jinying struggled to get up and again grabbed at Zhu. “No! No! Mr. Zhu, please don’t hurt her, I beg you. I’ll give you anything.”

  Zhu laughed sarcastically. “What can you give me, huh, Young Master? Without your father, you’re a good-for-nothing dandy. Now I’m giving the orders—you understand?”

  Jinying flung himself against Zhu, who stumbled for a moment and let go of my hair. I quickly pulled my door closed.

  Just then another car screeched to a stop in front of us. Gao jumped out, pushed Zhu away, and jumped into the driver’s seat next to me.

  As Gao was reaching to close the door, Zhu lifted his gun to point at us, but Gao’s gun was ready, and he shot at Zhu, who began to fire back. Without a pause Gao hit the accelerator, and our car sped away, leaving Jinying in the rain with Zhu’s body.

  I turned to Gao. “What are you doing?!”

  He didn’t reply, either because the rain had drowned out my question or because he was concentrating on driving through the storm.

  Finally the car pulled to a stop. I looked out and saw a pier extending into the dark water of the harbor. A huge ship loomed in the distance.

  Gao turned to me, then pointed to the ship. “Miss Camilla, that ship will sail for Hong Kong tomorrow night. As soon as it is daylight, come here to buy a ticket, and hide yourself in your stateroom. You are now a free woman.”

  It was then that I saw his shirt was soaked with blood.

  I blurted out, “Gao, you were shot!”

  He said calmly, “I know, Miss Camilla. I’ll go to a doctor later. But I had to drive you to safety first.”

 

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