Deadly Anniversaries

by Marcia Muller

  Weddings in America are not conducted that way, husband. There is no marching from village to village, no bride price. But still, there are weddings. I have come here today to bring you good news.

  As you know, I’m not a person who likes to brag about her accomplishments. I thought, however, that you would find what I have to say interesting. Our children lead very busy lives, so I’ve decided they do not need to take the time to hear this story. Therefore I’ve come here alone, by bus. This is something our children do not know I know how to do. There are many things the children do not know I know—although now, there is one fewer. The tale is long, husband, so here is your tea.

  It begins this way.

  On a recent Sunday afternoon I sat at a table at Wo Hop enjoying a bowl of winter melon soup. As this is something I don’t often make at home, I do not mind the expense of paying for it, though of course the soup at Wo Hop, though it is excellent, is not as good as yours was. I was with Lin Rui, from the bakery. You remember her? She is a nice woman but sometimes she cannot stop talking. This is not always a problem, as she often doesn’t pause for a response. When I am with her, as long as I utter an occasional encouraging sound, I have leisure to observe my surroundings.

  That afternoon, we sat at a table in the corner. A family filled that round table in the center of the room. They were an elderly grandmother, a mother, a father, a young man, a young woman holding a baby. Two seats—the places of honor, to the right of the grandmother—were empty when I arrived. They remained empty until another young man descended the stairs. The family’s heads all turned. This young man held the hand of a nervously smiling blonde young woman. The family smiled in return, but their smiles seemed tentative.

  I realized I knew these people, husband. They were the Chu family, from Eldridge Street. You may remember them. Our three youngest children went to school with their two sons. Our daughter didn’t know them well, but the eldest son, Cai, was great friends with our son An-Zhang. They made mischief together. They were always punished, but they were also always forgiven because they were such clever children. The creativity of their naughtiness was especially pleasing to you, as I recall, husband. An-Zhang, as you know, has not changed. In any case, I will have more to say about An-Zhang later.

  The younger son of the Chu family is named Li. In school he studied with our Tien-Hua. As neither of them ever did anything except study, they were never in any trouble. In fact, according to our daughter they were boring. Of course, that was not true of our son, but I will admit I did find Chu Li a bit tedious. This, then, was Li at the table, with his wife, who held their child. As elder brother Cai seated his blonde young woman beside his grandmother, Li glanced at the parents. He frowned.

  I couldn’t hear the conversation as their meal progressed, because of the distance between our tables as well as Lin Rui’s ongoing gossip, but clearly the Chus’ luncheon was a strained one. As you know, I do not make it a rule to stick my nose in other people’s business. I could not help but notice, however, that the blonde young woman was wearing a diamond ring on her left hand. With shy pride she showed it to the family around the table. It appeared none of them had seen it before, which told me she had only recently become engaged to Cai. A family meal after an engagement should be an occasion for celebration, as it was for our family when each of our two oldest sons became engaged. Although you were gone by then, husband, your happy presence was felt each time. Yet an odd air of discomfort prevailed at the Chus’ table.

  At both tables, we continued to eat. As it happened, I called for our check as the Chus were finishing their meal. Our soup was not quite gone, but Lin Rui had begun to tell me stories about people I don’t know. I professed myself quite full, suggesting to her that she take home the remaining soup, which pleased her. “But before we leave,” I said, “let me take a selfie of us, for your son.”

  This offer made Lin Rui beam, even though selfie is such a silly word Chinese doesn’t have it, so I had to say it in English. Of course, other people in the restaurant appeared in our selfie, but I tell you, husband, so many people are taking pictures like this all the time, no one even looked up from their meal. Lin Rui does not have the good luck to have a family like ours. Her son lives in Texas, so she has no one to show her how to do certain things, such as taking pictures with her phone. Our son An-Zhang, because he is a photographer, thought I would enjoy learning this. He was correct. I now snap many photographs on the street. I show them to An-Zhang when I go to dinner at his apartment. Only one of our children has inherited your talent for cooking, husband. An-Zhang is not that one. However, his roommate, Tony, is an excellent cook, who goes out of his way to prepare dishes I enjoy. So dinner at An-Zhang’s home is always a pleasing occasion.

  After the pictures, we left the restaurant. I emailed the photos to Lin Rui’s son. Then I told Lin Rui I had shopping to do. After one final story about the owner of the eyeglasses store on Mott Street—I don’t even know this man’s name—she said goodbye.

  I stood on the corner enjoying the warm day. Eventually the Chu family emerged from Wo Hop. I took a few steps over, to the shadows under the tailor’s awning. Cai said his goodbyes to his family. With his blonde young woman he walked a block up the street. I headed in that direction myself. Cai spoke to the young woman with that look of a man who is troubled but tries to hide it. They kissed on the corner, then parted ways.

  I hurried to catch up with Cai. Since he had been such a good friend of An-Zhang’s, it was only polite that I greet him.

  “Chu Cai!” I said. “Can this be you?”

  He turned. “Auntie Chin! What a surprise!” He smiled. “You’re looking younger than ever.” Cai was a mischief-maker, but always polite.

  “I’m happy to see you, Cai. Are you well?”

  “Yes, thank you. How’s your family? How’s An-Zhang?”

  “The family is well, thank you. As for An-Zhang, now that he doesn’t have you to lead the way, he no longer gets into trouble.” This made Cai laugh. “Really, An-Zhang is very successful,” I told him. “He is a photographer—of food, among other things. I cannot say I understand why anyone would pay a great deal of money for pictures of food. Sometimes I think this is another clever trick—of the kind you two used to play—that he is now playing on the world. But then, he is not the only one of my children with an odd profession. My daughter is a private investigator.”

  “Lydia? Wait, Ling Wan-ju, right? She’s a private investigator?”

  “Yes. She is very busy in her career. She is lucky she has remained living in our apartment, so that I can take care of her. Now, Chu Cai, I must go. It has been lovely to see you.” Then, because I had no shopping to do, I hurried off home.

  Within an hour, the red telephone in our kitchen rang. I had expected that, of course, so I was not startled.

  “Look at that,” Cai said. “I remembered the number after all these years! Auntie, I’m wondering if Lydia—Ling Wan-ju, is there. I’d like to speak to her.”

  “Come over immediately. Press one long buzz on the bell downstairs so I know it’s you.”

  He was there within ten minutes, bringing a bag of fine oranges. A well-brought-up young man, like our own children. I went to the kitchen for a bowl for the oranges as he removed his shoes. Then I showed him to your easy chair, husband. It is the chair I offer to honored guests. I thought you might not mind if Cai drank a cup of tea there while I helped him solve his problem.

  “Thank you,” he said when I brought the tea. “Will Ling Wan-ju join us soon?”

  “I’m sorry, Cai. My daughter is not available. She was called away on important detecting work. However, since you didn’t know she was an investigator, no doubt you also don’t know that I often help her with her cases. Please tell me what is worrying you.”

  He sipped his tea. “Maybe I should wait for her.”

  “You called within an hour of learning her prof
ession. This must be an urgent matter. Tell it to me. Perhaps there is groundwork I can do.” This is a phrase I learned from our daughter. I don’t understand it, as I have worked now on several cases but have never had to dig in the ground to solve one. Nor has she as far as I know. However, saying it seems to put people at ease.

  “All right, Auntie. You’ll tell Ling Wan-ju as soon as you can?”

  I picked up my own tea. “Please proceed.”

  Cai sighed. “It’s...” He sighed again, trailing off.

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s embarrassing, it’s a personal matter, it must be kept confidential, you don’t like to ask for help. Fine. Now that is out of the way. I am waiting to hear.”

  With a smile, he said, “Auntie Chin, you haven’t changed. All right, it’s this. I just got engaged to my girlfriend, Anna. Anna Powell. She’s not Chinese, but she’s so nice, so smart, so talented—also, she cooks so well!—I thought my parents would come around to liking her.”

  “But you no longer think so.”

  “I don’t know. Li—my brother, you remember him?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Li doesn’t seem to like her. I mean, he hardly knows her. But he worries about my parents, how they feel about me marrying someone who isn’t Chinese. Also, about Grandmother. Li was hoping we wouldn’t get serious. That I’d break up with Anna, not ask her to marry me. The other day, he came over to my apartment, for a drink. He said Anna—Auntie, he said she’s phony. He said she’s...” Cai seemed to be struggling to find the word in Chinese. Finally he slipped into English. “She’s a gold digger.”

  I don’t know if you know this word, husband. It refers to a woman after a man’s money. Now, as you remember, I am fortunate to have a rather good feeling for people. I had not gotten any sense of greedy calculation about the young woman when I saw her in Wo Hop. Actually, the opposite. However, I asked, “Do you have gold for her to dig, Cai?”

  “You mean, do I have money? I’m doing well enough. Anna’s an artist, a painter. Her work is beautiful. But Li says she’ll always be poor unless she finds a man to support her. That may be true, but I’m happy to do it. So she can do her work. But Li told me to, quote, ‘look out for my stuff.’”

  “For his stuff?”

  “No, no, for my stuff. I guess that’s not a quote. Anyway, Auntie, I would have thought that was just Li, being his usual worried self, but the problem is, some of my things actually have gone missing lately. A diamond tie tack. Some cuff links. An antique teacup my grandmother gave me. Li has a matching one—she gave us each one when we graduated high school.” He smiled that same mischievous smile from his boyhood. “If you ask me, they’re ugly. But I know they’re valuable. Anyway, about the tie tack, the cuff links, I didn’t worry too much. I thought I’d just misplaced them. Then I noticed the teacup was gone when I climbed up on a stool to get something from the top cabinet.”

  “I see. You suspect your fiancée?”

  “I would never, except for what Li said. But that’s not the end of the story.”

  “I apologize for interrupting. Please continue.”

  “I saw the tie tack yesterday. In Golden Journeys Jewelry’s window.”

  “Ah,” I said. I sipped my tea.

  Husband, I don’t know if you remember Golden Journeys, or Cheng Yue, the owner. Cheng is what they call a “fence.” That is a buyer of stolen property. I don’t know why this word is used. Perhaps because if the police approach, a burglar might throw his stolen goods over a fence. That Cheng was now in possession of Cai’s tie tack was ominous.

  I asked, “Is there no possibility the tie tack in the window is a different one?”

  “I guess it could be, but it’s not likely. I got mine from an antiques dealer in Hong Kong. It’s fairly unusual. Do you want to see a picture?”

  “Of course.” When detecting, it is important to be as specific as possible. Cai flipped through photos on his phone, then turned the phone to me. “Anna took this the first time I wore it.” He enlarged the photo to feature the jewel.

  “You’re correct, it’s distinctive. Please hold the phone still.” I took a photo of his photo with my phone.

  He tried to hide a smile. “Auntie, there’s an easier way.”

  “So my daughter is always telling me. Someday I’ll learn it. Did you speak to Cheng Yue?”

  “Yes. I didn’t say the tie tack was mine, just asked about it. He said he got it with other things when he bought up an estate. He’s not even sure he wants to sell it, he says. He just put it in the window to attract customers because it’s so beautiful.”

  “You didn’t press him?”

  “No. I left. I think I was...afraid of what the truth might be.”

  “I see. But now you have decided you must know the truth no matter how unpleasant. You would like me—you would like the truth to be discovered about your stolen items. Really, about your fiancée. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” he said, with what seemed to be relief. “I really don’t think Anna—”

  “Of course not. But you must be sure. Tell me this, Cai. Do you love her?”

  “Oh, Auntie! Very, very much.”

  “All right. Call tomorrow morning at this same telephone number. Now you may go, as I have much to do.”

  Actually, I did not have much to do to solve the case. It was sadly simple. No doubt, husband, as you are wiser than I, you have seen it yourself. I needed to assure myself I was correct, of course, which would be easily done. Once that was accomplished, the work ahead of me was to think about what to do next.

  After Cai was gone I cleaned up the tea things. I organized some things on my phone, which becomes a mess very fast if I do not keep after it. I put on my shoes, locking three of the five locks on the door as I left the apartment. Leaving two unlocked ensures that burglars will lock themselves out as they pick the locks to let themselves in. Our daughter says today’s locks are not as easy to pick as formerly. Possibly she’s right, because associating with criminals is part of her professional duties. Still, my strategy has kept this apartment safe for the many years since you have been gone. I see no reason to change it.

  I hurried to the jewelry row of Canal Street to do the one bit of detecting I needed for this case. I stood outside Golden Journeys’s window. In the center under a bright light a diamond tie tack rested on a silk pillow. Ah, husband, how handsome you would have looked wearing such a thing!

  A buzzer made an offensive noise when I walked into the shop. Indeed, I found everything about Golden Journeys unpleasant. The lights are glaring, the display cases crowded, the air frigid, the stock gaudy. When Cheng Yue, the owner, came to greet me, he did nothing to dispel my distaste.

  “Good afternoon!” he boomed. He is a thick man, of the type who waves his hands meaninglessly as he speaks. “What can I show you this afternoon, Auntie? Or—” as he spied the jade bracelet you gave me at our wedding, which I do not remove—”are you perhaps here to sell?”

  “I am not here to buy or sell, Cheng Yue. I’m here to ask about the diamond tie tack in your window.”

  “Yes, yes.” He smiled. “A unique piece. I don’t think I want to sell it. I put it in the window to attract customers because it’s so beautiful.”

  “I see. How did you acquire it?”

  “It was among other items, in a collection I bought.”

  “No, it wasn’t. A blonde young woman brought it to you. No doubt she brought you a pair of cuff links, also. This woman.” I showed him a photograph on my phone.

  Cheng Yue looked at it. Then he looked at me. He was no longer smiling.

  “It’s a good thing you’re not planning to sell this item, Cheng Yue,” I said. “It is stolen. As you know. Don’t worry, I do not intend to inform the authorities. But you must do three things for me.”

  “I—Auntie, really—”

 
“I don’t have time for your protestations, Cheng Yue. We both know I’m correct. The things you must do are simple. First, you must remove the tie tack from your window. Keep it safe, wherever the cuff links are, until the person who brought them comes back for them. Second, you must tell no one I was here, including the person who brought you these things. If you feel you can’t do this, I can call Mary Kee, who is a detective at the Fifth Precinct. She can come here to take the items for safekeeping.”

  “No, no, Auntie. But—”

  “The second thing is, you must confirm that this is the woman who brought them. This woman, in this picture. Here, I have pictures of other blonde young women for comparison.” I showed him the photos I had organized earlier. It is so interesting, husband, how many uses this tiny device can have, besides, of course, enabling me to call any of our children at any time from wherever I happen to be.

  Cheng hardly looked at the other photos. “Yes. Yes, she’s the one. The first one you showed me. But—”

  “This situation will be resolved soon, Cheng Yue. Until then, goodbye. But keep in mind—when people throw things over a fence, someone on the other side will often get hurt.”

  Cheng Yue stared at me. I left his shop. I was happy to return to the heat of the bustling streets.

  Once back home, I searched through my old telephone number book for the Chus. My phone knows many numbers, but not the ones from our children’s grade school days. My kitchen-splattered book is still useful.

  I settled comfortably, then called Chu Mei, the mother of that family. Because we had not spoken in such a long time, it would have been impolite not to ask after her husband, her children, her husband’s mother. She then asked after our children. This occupied us for some time. Finally I was able to get to my actual request, which was for her son’s telephone number. “My son would like to speak to him,” I explained. Though our son had not said that, I had no reason to think it wouldn’t be true, if the opportunity arose.