by Ed Lin
I glanced over at the people in front of Unknown Pleasures. We always get some pickup as the other stands close. I like to think that that means customers are saving the best for last. If I were working the crowd, our line would be twice as long. Maybe I could wrap up this call. It was absolutely a terrible situation, but I couldn’t really help my old classmate, anyway.
“Well, I’m glad the case is in good hands,” I said, trying to mark my voice with sincerity. “I’m sure that your dad will be home safe and soon, Peggy. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“They’d better find him soon or they can all go to hell!” Peggy’s interjection was followed by a buzz sound. “Jing-nan, I have to take this call. It could be them.”
“Okay, bye,” I said. I heard two clicks and then a beep. I could still hear Peggy breathing. I was about to tell her to disconnect me when an electronically altered voice broke in on the line.
“Miss Peggy Lee.” It sounded like a cheery children’s toy alien. “We want the plan in exchange for the safe return of your father.” The voice creeped me out, but how would Peggy hold up? She was already vulnerable. But I should have known that she’d stand as firm as an embattled mayor in a disaster film.
“What plan?” she asked defiantly. The kidnapper on the line seemed taken aback by her tone.
“Th-The chip design!”
“What chip? What are you talking about?”
“You know what chip. The power-efficient mobile chip in your father’s files!”
“I’ve never heard of this chip. How the hell am I supposed to find the plans?” Her steeliness was fully back. Her earlier sobbing episode was all forgotten. Had it all been an act for the cops? Or even for me?
I had to stay on the line, even if I wasn’t riveted by the high-stakes conversation. If I hung up, a click on the line could spook the kidnappers and endanger Peggy’s dad. I put a hand over my phone mic in case the ambient sounds of the night market swelled.
The kidnapper released an indignant sigh that was rendered comical by the voice-changing device. “He dies in three days if you don’t hand over the chip design.”
“I couldn’t possibly find it in three days. I don’t even know where to look. Tell you what. Either you release him so he can find the plans for you himself, or you put him on the phone now to tell me where to find them.”
There was a quiet click.
I heard a woman in the background yell, “Goddamnit!” It must’ve been the female cop. “I told you to agree with everything they said! Are you trying to get your father killed?”
I could picture Peggy turning her cold eyes to the woman. “I love my father. He taught me that one needs to set boundaries and cultivate respect. I don’t want the kidnappers to think that I’m some cowering little girl who will knuckle under, which is likely what your superiors think of you, Officer Kung.”
Who else in the world can dress down people the way Peggy can? In high school, she had had a confrontation in private with the principal about keeping her phone on during class. When he emerged from his office afterward, the man, a former marine, was reduced to tears. I don’t believe in spirits or deities but I do pray to whatever is out there to keep me on Peggy’s good side.
I heard shuffling on Peggy’s end of the line. I continued to stay as quiet as possible on my end. A stray sound could send the three of them jumping at each other’s throats.
Please, Peggy. Just hang up.
“Wait a moment,” said Detective Huang. “I’m getting a reading. Does this number look familiar to you, Peggy?” I heard her stomp her feet.
“What the fuck? That’s Jing-nan’s cell! Jing-nan, are you still on the line?” I squirmed.
“Yes,” I said in my nicest voice. “I stayed on because I didn’t know when to hang up.”
“You just screwed up the tracing of that call!” accused Peggy.
“He didn’t,” the male cop deadpanned.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, thinking that that was the most appropriate thing to say. You can never go wrong by apologizing in Taiwan. “I had no idea when to hang up because you accidentally patched me into a conference call with the kidnappers.”
“Oh, I did?” she said, still angry but befuddled.
“I’ll hang up now, so you guys can get on with whatever you have to.” I had to get back to work, and before I could think of myself as a cold-hearted bastard, I reminded myself that there was nothing I could do to help Peggy or her dad if the cops couldn’t.
“Hang on, Jing-nan,” said Peggy. “Hey, you two. Are you hungry? We can go get some food at Jing-nan’s stall. He makes the best skewers and stews at the Shilin Night Market.”
Kung, the female cop spoke up. “We should stay here in case they call again. Leaving the premises would be a dereliction of duty.”
I heard Peggy slam a fist against her desk as she stood up. “I’ve got the line on this mobile phone. Anyway, they’re probably not going to call again tonight. They thought I knew how to get what they wanted.”
“You really don’t know?” Huang asked with a hint of amusement.
I tightened my grip on my phone and curled into the crash position. I tried to keep drama out of the workplace. “Listen guys,” I said. “It’s been a really slow night and I’m actually thinking of closing up pretty soon, Peggy.”
“We’ll be there soon, so if you do decide to close, keep something hot.” It was an order to be disobeyed at my own risk.
Chapter 2
Twenty-seven minutes later, and long after I had filled in Frankie and Dwayne on the kidnapping, Peggy strolled in with the two cops. Dwayne had met each of my sentences with muttered curses. Frankie rubbed his nose once the entire time. Both now gave the new arrivals fake cheery greetings like they were none the wiser. I’ve trained them well.
Peggy came at me with one arm raised above her head. I thought she was going to hug me with it but instead she slapped my back hard, right on my spine. I cried out from surprise as much as pain.
“Ow! Dammit!” I arched my back to take away the sting and regarded my former classmate.
Peggy would make waves in a crowd, probably because she’d be the one pushing herself to the front. Her facial features, including her thin lips and penetrating eyes, were symmetrical. In other words, attractive. If life were an awful and sexist melodramatic television series, she’d play the hard-charging businesswoman who would discover, perhaps too late, the grief in not yielding her heart to a homely man with no money who truly loved her.
“Jing-nan!” she declared. “We’ve had the longest night and we need something to eat to sustain ourselves.”
We had kept the main grill locked and loaded so we’d be ready for them. I picked out a few choice skewers and stirred the tripe stew that was bubbling on the secondary fire.
Here’s an honest tip from a sharp night-market hawker. If it’s early in the night, get the skewers because they only become scragglier as the night goes on, and your chances of getting an overcooked one that didn’t sell goes up. If it’s later in the night, get the stew because it’s had enough time to become more tender and absorb what we call in the business “goodness,” consisting of spices and flavors fully released only with extended cooking.
Peggy and the cops sat at a table in the back, the same one that I had been sitting at while talking to Peggy.
I eased down a tray of skewers in front of them. I knew they knew what was what, but I figured I’d point out which was chicken breast, chicken butt, intestine, beef and spicy pork. They nodded. Dwayne ladled out three bowls of tripe stew that steamed in my face as I carried them over to Peggy’s party.
Both cops were in plain clothes and wore blank expressions. They watched everything and didn’t say a word. Detective Huang’s large nose had distractingly large pores and looked like a plucked cactus. His hair was cut in uneven bangs that ended in arrows
pointing down at his eyebrows. The woman, I had heard her name was Kung, had hard eyes and a scar over her left cheek. She pushed her mouth to the side as she shifted in her seat.
“I’ve heard of this place,” she said casually. “There was a shooting here a few months back.”
“You’re right,” I said. “My name is Chen Jing-nan, as you already know. I’m sorry, I was introduced to you on the phone, but I’ve forgotten your names.”
The male cop spoke up. “I’m Huang. This is Kung.”
The female cop made no acknowledgment that that was indeed her correct name. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. “Hey, wait a second.” Kung was speaking with a tone that implied I was trying to pull some practical joke. She carefully monitored my face for telling reactions. “You were the guy who almost got shot.” Her smile openly mocked me.
I felt I had to respond, reminding myself she was a cop. The humility route was probably the best way to go.
I shrugged and nodded like a simpleton as I passed over a new bundle of napkins. Satisfied, Kung broke away from studying me to slurp up a mouthful of steaming stew. After she swallowed, she tossed me a concession: “It wouldn’t have killed you, Jing-nan, but it would have probably punctured a lung.”
Huang, having already finished a skewer, threw in an observation for good measure. “More than likely, it would have only bruised a rib,” he said out the side of his mouth as he licked his fingers.
I couldn’t believe these guys were downplaying the most dangerous event of my life. I considered it a minor miracle that I was still here and personally serving them food free of charge. I folded my arms and asked, “Are you sure?”
“I saw the gun,” Huang said. “We all saw it. Pictures of it were going around. It was a cheap, small-caliber knockoff.”
“Well, it looked scary,” I said, holding out my hands in a “Gimme a break!” gesture I had picked up from Americans.
“Everything looks scary to the untrained eye,” said Huang.
Kung took another skewer and leaned away from both of us. I took that as an opening to walk away and attend to paying customers. People who would worry if I were shot.
Cops sure liked to eat their food. Peggy did, too. She must have burned all those calories with her insatiable drive to own a piece of every business in the world because she was slim and looked good in her uniform of choice, the pantsuit. Maybe it was also her drinking that kept the weight off. I had a cousin who had interned with her who said Peggy was a functioning alcoholic, but then again my young relative’s lies-to-truth-telling ratio was materially greater than 50 percent.
The food I placed at their table dissolved before my very eyes, leaving behind only wood, bone and utensils.
“Don’t worry, Jing-nan, I’ll pay for everything,” said Peggy. Her declaration sounded like a threat.
“Everything for you is free,” I said. “You’re my classmate.” I turned to the cops and added, “It’s always an honor to serve the police who serve us so well.” I had nothing against Huang and Kung, but cops hadn’t always been very nice to me. Peggy put on a cultivated expression of damaged honor.
“No, let me pay!” She rose from her seat and pointed both index fingers at me. “I am somebody who supports my classmates in all their ventures!”
I heard Frankie cough. He was cleaning up the prep area. “Money,” he barked just loud enough for me to hear.
Dwayne leaned over the counter to better display his tattooed biceps. Now it was time for him to pull his simpleton act. “We don’t often have the pleasure to serve you, Peggy,” he said. “Well, we don’t know what to charge you, since we’ve only been giving you our leftovers and the mistake skewers that Jing-nan made. I’d say five hundred NTs should more than cover it.”
Mistakes that I’ve made? I don’t make mistakes. None of us did. Well, it was part of the setup for the payoff so all I could do was smile sheepishly.
“Done!” said Peggy. She slammed an NT$500 bill on the counter.
“Jing-nan,” said Dwayne as he lifted a final tray of skewers to the counter, “if you’d be so good.”
“Of course,” I said, taking up the tray. As I set it down before Peggy, Kung and Huang, I said, “Well, it’s looking like the night is coming to a close soon. I hope this is enough and you won’t leave hungry.”
Peggy leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I’m gonna go to the can now.” Peggy ducked into Unknown Pleasures’ most coveted night-market treasure: a private bathroom. I cringed as she slammed the door behind her.
I went back to the front of the stall and tried with mild success to entice the last few tourists around to buy our past-prime skewers. My phone buzzed in my front pocket. It was a text from Peggy.
—I don’t trust those cops for shit. They think I’m a suspect.
I looked over at both cops and smiled.
—They’re trying to help you, Peggy.
—They both have aboriginal headhunter blood. I can tell.
—Are you being racist, Peggy?
—Don’t worry, I’m deleting this conversation. Just wanted to let you know how I felt.
—Your feelings are creepy, Peggy.
I put away my phone and felt it vibrate with some parting shot from Peggy, but I didn’t bother to check it. More slyly this time, I checked out the cops again. Huang’s face was in his phone while Kung’s eyes wandered with no clear purpose. The cops didn’t seem to be taking the kidnapping seriously. If they did, they’d be peeking around corners and kicking in doors, right?
Maybe keeping tabs on Peggy as a suspect really was their main purpose. I eased my way over to their table to see if I could glean more from a casual conversation. Maybe if I understood them better, I’d be able to avoid running afoul of them.
“Say, Detectives Huang and Kung,” I said as carelessly as possible, “it’s none of my business, but shouldn’t you guys be out running around, searching for the kidnappers?”
Kung’s cheek scar pulsed red and her mouth clicked as she opened it only to snap, like a predatory fish: “It’s being addressed right now.”
I quickly counted my fingers and straightened up. “In any case, I welcome both of you to return to my tiny stand any time you’re free because I’m sure you’ll find Tong-tong soon. Right now, though, I know you’re both having a tough night, so if there’s anything else I can do to help, please let me know.”
Huang looked up and regarded me with a measured look. “Thank you,” he said.
I cleared my throat and decided to push things a bit, since they’d eaten here at a discount. “You both may also want to consider leaving me good reviews online,” I said, drawing bemused looks from them. Well, I had to ask. I’m a businessman.
Peggy returned from the bathroom with a fresh coat of lipstick on.
“Where were you?” accused the male cop.
Peggy smiled sweetly. “I had to freshen up, jackass!”
Huang pointed at his partner’s nose. “You’re supposed to follow her into the bathroom!”
Kung raised an eyebrow. “And you’re supposed to keep the station posted about our whereabouts.” She raised the other eyebrow. “Before we change locations.”
Huang’s face and neck reddened. “I’m going to call it in right now, then.”
“Let’s do that, huh?”
Huang stood up and, after throwing an exasperated glance at me, walked off to make his call.
Peggy slid into a chair and asked me right across Kung’s line of sight as if she weren’t there: “Who do you think would want to kidnap my dad, Jing-nan?”
Kung knocked the table hard three times with her midfinger knuckles. “You are not supposed to talk about the case out in public, Peggy! You’re putting your father in danger!” Peggy angled her head and stared directly at Kung’s scar without an ounce of discretion.
“Jing-nan already k
nows what happened. He was on the call, Detective Kung.” Her sentence dripped with condescension, as if she were talking to a child interested in police work. Kung ground her teeth as Peggy twirled her phone and continued. “The two guys who work here know, also.”
Kung’s shoulders collapsed in resignation. “They do?”
Frankie tapped his ring to coax a ride cymbal sound from the ventilation hood above the grill and called out, “Yes, we do.”
Dwayne puffed out his chest and his T-shirt went taut. “Jing-nan told us about it, but we would have gotten the gist of it anyway from listening to his side of the phone conversation. No one’s got any secrets here.” Frankie kept tapping his ring, adding a touch of a jazzy Japanese noir film to the proceedings.
Kung rose and stared us all down even though she was the shortest one. Damn, this really was turning into a Japanese noir film. “All of you better keep your mouths shut.” Her words were hardened rubber bullets. “If any of you compromise this case, I won’t hesitate to throw you in jail!” Huang was trudging back toward Unknown Pleasures. “Everybody here knows what happened to Peggy’s dad!” Kung notified him. Huang responded by raising an arm, anticipating someone would pass him the basketball.
“The case has been compromised in a big way,” he said with a relieved sigh. “Everybody everywhere knows. It’s out all over.” Huang displayed his phone with one hand and in the other he clutched a frozen fruit drink he had procured on the sly from elsewhere in the night market.
The mobile version of the homepage of The Daily Pineapple screamed, “Tong-tong Abducted by Knife-Wielding Maniacs!”
Kung stomped her foot like a substitute elementary-school teacher who had been pushed to the limit and rubbed the back of her neck. “Ma de,” she said. I knew female cops were tough, but it was the first time I heard one say “motherfucker.” She was already breaking the female stereotype of flawless faces by not covering up the scar. Why not curse, too?