The Misfortune Cookie: An Esther Diamond Novel

by Resnick, Laura

  “Oh, Max . . . Li Xiuying must have been quite a woman.”

  “She was remarkable,” he said wistfully. Then he cleared his throat. “But she has been gone a long time, and there are people here and now who need our protection—as she would certainly remind me. So, come,” he said firmly. “We must put an end to this dreadful business.”

  “Yes.”

  When we entered the shop, though, rather than immediately launch into a confrontation with Lily, who was standing near the cash register, we just stared in bemused surprise.

  Apparently the Yee family had turned a corner of some sort since I had spoken with Ted this morning.

  Lily stood there with her long black hair tumbled down her back, rather than in a tidy bun. Her beautiful face, free of makeup today, was ravaged with emotion and streaked with tears. And Ted, always so easy-going and cheerful, was now shouting at her in anger.

  When he saw us, he cried, “Esther! You would not believe what my family has been doing!”

  “Inflicting terrible curses on anyone who tries to help you make this movie?” I guessed.

  Lily shrieked in horror, covered her face with her hands, and sank to her knees, sobbing copiously. Which wasn’t really the reaction I had been expecting.

  Ted’s jaw hung open as he stared as me. “You know?”

  “We figured it out a little while ago.” Since Ted wasn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, I asked, “How did you find out?”

  Over his mother’s wailing sobs, which he ignored, Ted said, “After I talked with you, I was ready to tell Mom my decision. That I’m going to quit making the film.” With an exasperated look at his sobbing mother, he said, “She thought that meant I’d work full-time in the store now and eventually take it over. But I explained that will never happen. Never!” He looked at Lily and shouted, “Get that through your head, once and for all!”

  “After all I have done!” she shrieked.

  Ted said to us, “I’m thinking of going into graphic novels. I’ve always loved comic books, and it would be a great format for ABC. In fact, I think I could get a whole series out of Brian’s search for identity! See, I’d change the story so that—”

  “And your mother reacted badly?” I asked loudly.

  “My mother reacted like a lunatic,” Ted said with a long-suffering look, starting to calm down a little now that he was talking to someone who was not his mother. “Oh, my God, Esther, the things Mom did to Mary. Unbelievable! I think we should give Mary this whole damn store by way of apology.”

  Max asked, “Where are the misfortune cookies made?”

  “Huh?”

  “The curses,” Max clarified. “Where is the work done?”

  “Oh. I don’t know. We didn’t get that far.” He looked at his mother. “Mom?”

  Lily wiped her runny nose with her sleeve. Breathing hard, still on her knees, she thought it over for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. The workshop should be destroyed. She will kill again.”

  “She?” I said.

  “Susan.” Max looked at Lily. “It was Susan who augmented the attacks, wasn’t it?”

  “I urged patience,” Lily sobbed. “There was no need to kill. The white girl was out of the movie. Benny was losing money everywhere and couldn’t keep funding the film. We only needed to wait . . . But Susan is too American.”

  “I beg your pardon?” I said, offended.

  “For her, everything must be now, now, now.”

  “Oh, that’s not because she’s American, you manipulative, curse-inflicting witch,” I snapped. “It’s because she’s a homicidal maniac!” Then I blinked in surprise and looked at Max. “It’s Susan, then?”

  “It’s both of them,” Ted said in disgust. “Mom, I am so leaving home. For good, this time.”

  Max said, “Lily had the gift and taught it to her daughter—who has, I believe, a very great talent?”

  Lily nodded and then let out another keening wail, rocking back and forth on her knees.

  “You suspected this?” I said to Max.

  “Not until you told me about poor Mary Fox on the way here,” he said. “That’s when I realized the approach to sabotaging Ted’s film had changed a great deal, though the methodology had remained the same. I suspected a devious, amoral mother may have started the plot, and then been superseded by a very talented and murderous daughter.”

  “Susan killed Benny and Uncle Six?” Then I realized something else. “Susan tried to kill Lopez!”

  “She wanted to kill John, too,” said Ted in outrage. “Because he came up with a plan to help me get investors.”

  “She was beside herself about that,” Lily said, wiping her eyes. “The loss of face, the shame—Ted publicly begging strangers for money for his ‘piece of crap’ movie. It was even worse, Susan said, than taking money from gangsters like Benny and Uncle Six.”

  “So she planned to kill John?” I said in horror.

  “Where is the cookie?” Max said urgently. “She must have made one for John.”

  “I destroyed it this morning,” Lily said. “John is a good boy. I told her she couldn’t do this. I wouldn’t allow it.” Lily’s face crumpled again. “We fought terribly. She has gone insane. I cannot control her.”

  “Did she make another cookie after that?”

  “No, there was no time.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I said.

  “But she will try again. She will never stop. I see that now. The workshop,” Lily said to Max, taking deep gulps of air. “It must be destroyed. The whole thing. And the wards must be eliminated.”

  “Susan established the wards, didn’t she?” said Max.

  “Yes.”

  “Of course,” he said. “A talented sorceress of Chinese heritage, studying architecture in the mundane world. What would be more natural than for her to experiment with the most esoteric aspects of feng shui in order to conceal the powerful fatal magics being created in this building?”

  So Susan had lied about not being interested in feng shui. I realized now that Max had suspected something of the sort—though he had been distracted by the ghost of Li Xiuying in the face of Lily Yee.

  I turned to help Max as he started struggling out of the old daypack he had donned over his heavy coat. Once the pack was removed, he reached inside it and pulled out . . .

  “A hammer?” I said. “What are you going to do with a hammer?” It seemed a rather mundane thing for Max, of all people, to carry around.

  “Susan is very powerful,” he said. “Very talented. But not original or creative. And she’s inexperienced. I believe that destroying the wards which have made this building such a peculiar place to visit will be almost childishly simple.”

  He walked over to the mirror that faced the door. Although he had commented on it during our first visit here, I’d barely noticed it. It was just an ordinary red-framed mirror hanging on the wall. It faced the door and, like that structure, was tilted at a slight angle.

  Max said a few words in Chinese—I had no idea whether he was speaking Mandarin or Cantonese—then smashed the mirror with his hammer.

  The whole building seemed to inhale, quiver, and then scream. As the floor beneath my feet heaved and gave way, I fell down. Ted shouted and flew across the room, as if thrown by a giant unseen hand. Mystical wind whipped through the store, blowing Lily’s long hair wildly around her head. Max, who somehow stayed upright, continued smashing the mirror with his hammer. Then he began pulverizing the broken pieces that lay on the heaving floor. From my prone position, I saw Ted fly back in the other direction, screaming in panic, his eyes wide with shocked fear.

  When I heard a horrible screeching behind me, I rolled over, expecting to see the building collapsing on top of me or something. Instead, I saw the slightly tilted doorway straighten itself out, realigning until it was perfectly perpendicula
r to the floor, undulating and shuddering with the effort. As soon as it finished this transformation and went still . . . All the heaving, shrieking, screeching, and blowing stopped.

  I lay there on the solid, unmoving floor, breathing heavily. Ted promptly fell on top of me, as if dropped by the unseen hand that had been flinging him around the room. He apologized to me, sounding winded, then rolled away.

  “Is everyone all right?” Max asked, breathing hard. “I realized only after the event commenced that I should have warned you there would be some dramatic effects.”

  “Oh, y’think?” I said.

  “Whoa!” said Ted. “That was like a religious experience!”

  Still breathing hard in reaction, I sat up and looked around. The store looked different now. Not unrecognizable—the style of the building and basic décor were the same. But everything was lined up in a visibly more rational pattern now. I could see the back of the store, a flight of stairs, neatly-aligned shelves, straight walls . . . Although I had no interest in venturing upstairs here ever again, I had a feeling that if I did so, the layout would be perfectly self-explanatory now, rather than a mystifying maze from which it seemed impossible to escape.

  Max looked at Lily. “The workshop?”

  “Downstairs,” she said. “I will show you.”

  “What about John?” said Ted. “Someone’s got to help him!”

  I looked at Lily. “I thought you said you destroyed the cookie that Susan created to kill John?”

  “I did, but Susan is . . . demented,” Lily said in a tragic tone. “Determined to kill him. To stop him from helping Ted.”

  “And?” I prodded, worried about John.

  Ted said, “She got a gun from Danny Teng. She’s planning to shoot John.”

  Lily added, “She’s out looking for him right now.”

  I glared at Lily. “You realize, don’t you, that you’ve raised a ruthless, obsessive killer?”

  “And a bitch,” Ted grumbled.

  “She is too American,” Lily said again, which made me want to slap her.

  “We must divide forces!” Max declared. “Lily and I shall destroy the workshop and eliminate all remaining mystical influences from this edifice.”

  I nodded. “Ted and I will stop Susan from shooting John.”

  “Whoa. We will?”

  “I will stop Susan from shooting John,” I amended.

  “Well, I could try to help . . .”

  I asked, “What does John’s lion look like, and where is it?”

  The Yees didn’t know. But, of course, I knew someone who could tell me. When I called John’s “Uncle Lucky,” he instructed me to head for Doyers Street.

  “John’s probably there right now. Look for a big red lion,” said Lucky. “You can’t miss it. Huge ears with gold tassels. And John’s red sneakers. Nelli and I will meet you there!”

  18

  Lion Dance

  “I’m going to Doyers Street,” I said to Max. I tried not to think about the fact that the street was also known as the Bloody Angle. “Ted, you try calling Bill and John. See if you can warn them!”

  I dashed out of the shop and started running down the street, shoving my way through the holiday crowd. As I pictured Susan pointing a gun at John, I realized this was the sort of mundane problem that the police could handle better than anyone else. So I slowed down to a trot as I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Lopez.

  “Esther?” he said when he answered. “Is that you?”

  “Yes. This is an emer—”

  “A smash and grab?” he said. “Are you insane?”

  “What?”

  “After I left last night,” he said. “You smashed in the window of my car—a police car, I might add—and stole my fortune cookie?”

  “Oh! Right. That.”

  “Yes, that,” he snapped.

  “How did you find out?”

  “They didn’t make me a detective for my pretty face, Esther,” he said tersely. “There were witnesses. I found them. Easily.”

  “Oh.”

  “That’s it?” he said incredulously. “‘Oh?’”

  “Look, I can explain, but not right now.”

  “I should have stayed away altogether. I don’t know what I was thinking, coming back for more,” he said. “Okay, I do know. Sex. Well, partly, anyhow. But this is the limit, Esther. Seriously. This is warped, even for you.”

  “Even for me? What does that . . . No, never mind.” I was still barreling through the crowd and shoving my way past people. “We can’t talk about that right now.”

  “I don’t think we should talk anymore at all. I must have been out of my mind to think we could—”

  “This is an emergency!” I shouted at him. “Susan Yee has got a gun, and she’s planning to shoot John Chen!”

  “What?”

  “On Doyers Street! Right now. John’s in a red lion costume! Susan Yee has got a gun and is hunting for him! Send help!”

  He could tell I was serious. “Doyers Street. Got it. I’m calling it in right now.”

  He ended the call. I shoved my phone into my pocket and ran as fast as I could, heading for the Bloody Angle, not bothering to apologize as I pushed people out of my way.

  To my relief, as soon as I turned into the little street, I saw an enormous, beautiful, magical-looking, bright red creature in front of the little restaurant where I and the ABC cast had eaten lunch not long ago. The lion was performing a graceful, athletic dance for the crowd gathered here. Everyone was smiling, and many people were bobbing up and down a little in time to the percussion music that accompanied the dance . . .

  But one pretty, petite woman in the crowd with a chic haircut was making her way toward the lion, her face grim with purpose, her eyes burning with deadly intent.

  “John! She’s got a gun! John! Susan’s got a gun!”

  I was running straight at them, shouting as loudly as I could. But the music was drowning me out and the dense crowd slowed me down.

  On the other side of the sharp curve that defined Doyers, I could hear police sirens.

  Oh, thank God!

  They were coming up from the Bowery—and they evidently drove through the traffic barrier that had been established for today, heading straight for us.

  The intrusion of police cars and wailing sirens on this scene startled everyone. People were turning around to look at the flashing lights and at the cops pouring out of the cars. The musicians stopped playing, wondering what was going on.

  “John!” I screamed, and I could tell by the way the lion flinched that he heard me this time. My heart pounding, I burst through the crowd and screamed, “Susan’s got a gun!”

  “Esther! Get back!”

  I recognized Lopez’s voice and realized he must be in one of the police cars that was disgorging cops as I dived toward the red lion, practically bodysurfing over the crowd.

  “Nooooo!” It was a woman’s scream, shrill and enraged—Susan, I realized.

  The red lion froze for a moment, then start undulating, as if struggling to shapeshift; apparently John and Bill were trying to get out of their costume.

  I realized in the next instant that Susan was pointing her gun at me now. At point-blank range.

  “Kid!” That was Lucky’s voice, somewhere off to my right.

  Nelli was barking.

  “Esther!” Lopez shouted. “Get down!”

  “Noooo!” Susan’s eyes—insane, wild, wrathful.

  I stared at the barrel of the gun.

  You really should have planned this better, Esther.

  I was about to be shot instead of John. Not really my intention in coming here.

  “Esther!” Lopez shouted. “Esther!”

  An enormous jet of flame shot from the mouth of the red lion toward S
usan. It was like a horizontal waterfall of fire, pouring straight at her.

  She screamed in startled fear, staggered backward, and dropped the gun. Although not in danger from the flame, which was nowhere near me, I staggered sideways to get further away from it.

  As soon as Susan leaped out of the path of the fire, a man with curly blond hair and a big beard launched himself at her, taking her down in a flying tackle while bellowing loudly. Then Nelli was right behind him, barking ferociously.

  Sobbing and shrieking, Susan struggled and tried to reach for the gun she had dropped, which lay nearby.

  The bearded blond man kicked it away. “Don’t even think about it, sister!”

  Nelli was still barking.

  “Lucky?” I said to the blond man.

  “You all right, kid?” he called.

  “Esther!” Lopez was there, his hands on my shoulders. “Are you all right? Are you okay?”

  “Oh. Um . . .” Safe now, I felt slightly dazed. “I’m fine.”

  He shook me. “What were you thinking? Never step in front of a gun! Never!” Then he hugged me fiercely.

  Uniformed cops were pulling Lucky off of Susan Yee. Not exactly the most balanced of women, she struggled like a wild thing, ranting and raving, shrieking and howling. When she flung out an arm, her fist connected with Lucky’s face. He cried out and staggered backward.

  “Oh, no!” I cried, pulling myself out of Lopez’s bruising embrace. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Ow. Fine.” Lucky pulled off his fake beard and tenderly felt his jaw. “That girl coulda been a boxer.”

  “Officer Novak!” I said in surprise, recognizing one of the cops who were trying to get the frightened crowd under control.

  “Miss Diamond.” He nodded to me and grinned. “You movie people lead such exciting lives!”

  “I think my heart stopped,” Lopez said irritably. “And when did they start putting flamethrowers in the lions around here?”

  “Esther! Are you all right?” asked the lion, its mouth now darkly singed from its fiery attack on Susan.