99 Ways to Die

by Ed Lin

  Frankie adjusted himself in the front passenger seat as the car pulled away. Where were we going? Forward.

  Frankie didn’t seem concerned about our destination. I shouldn’t be either. He tipped his head to a paper doll taped to the dash. “That’s very nice,” said Frankie.

  The driver snorted in a lungful of breath. “My granddaughter made it.” The driver’s voice was earthy and gave a profane charm to everything he said.

  “Granddaughter, uh?” said Frankie. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him speak with such tenderness.

  Frankie gently stretched out the arms of the genderless figure. It was about three inches long and seemed stricken with severe scoliosis. The crooked smile was bigger than the face.

  “Very pretty,” said Frankie. “Right, Jing-nan?”

  “Yes,” I said. “It’s very cute. Children are amazing.”

  “Jing-nan, this is my old friend Fu-xiang.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. I stretched my hand forward and he pressed two fingers against my palm.

  He was missing all the other fingers!

  I jerked my hand back. His face split open and he burst out laughing. Frankie snickered.

  “Jing-nan, you’re worse than my little granddaughter!” Fu-xiang turned over his left hand and showed the other fingers tucked away. He laughed like a rusty gate in the wind and brought the car to a stop at a light. “I thought people who worked in the night market were supposed to be sharp!” A rhombus of white light from a streetlamp hovered on the dashboard and cut across my knees as we pulled away.

  Not to stereotype, but older mainlanders in general have more disdain for their younger generations than benshengren do. After seven decades, they still haven’t fully bought into the island mentality that each person, young or old, is important and deserves respect.

  Frankie swung down the shade even though it was night, and cupped his right hand against the side of his face. Maybe I should hide my face since the two um, experienced, guys were.

  “Why are you guys trying to avoid being seen?” I asked. They both seemed a little surprised. Societal norms dictated that I, as the “child,” remain quiet and only speak when spoken to. However, that went out the window once Fu-xiang pranked me.

  “Who’s hiding?” asked Fu-xiang as he laughed some more. “I’m just trying to keep the glare out of my eyes.”

  “We’re not supposed to be together,” said Frankie.

  Fu-xiang noisily blew air out of his mouth before speaking again. “Jing-nan, let’s put it this way. There’s never a reason to be seen. Why would you want someone to know where you are, where you go, who you’re with and what you do? I’ll bet your parents don’t know where you are right now. You didn’t tell them, right?”

  My back suddenly felt itchy and I pressed myself against my seat. “Both my parents are dead,” I said.

  “Oh, shit, I’m sorry to hear that, Jing-nan. Yeah, I think I remember Frankie saying something like that.”

  “You think you remember because I did tell you,” said Frankie in a measured monotone.

  We came to another stop and Fu-xiang tilted his head. “Well, you know what? Since they’re dead, they actually might know where you are. They’re probably happy because there’s no safer place to be in Taipei than when you’re with me and Frankie, trust me.”

  Trust him? We hadn’t even been together long enough to go two stops on the MRT. I was in the car of a man I didn’t know going who knew where. Now, I could trust Frankie with my business and my life. In Taiwan, they were probably equally important, if not the same. One was no good without the other.

  My thoughts turned to Ah-tien. He had to be planning a personal and professional comeback because the shame of the public trial hadn’t destroyed his ego.

  We headed south and soon we were on a bridge over Tamsui River. I saw the Taipei 101 skyscraper to the east, a white jade pendant hanging from heaven in the night.

  Fu-xiang snorted and then cleared his throat. “Jing-nan, there’s something else Frankie told me that I remember quite well,” he said. “You want to know who could be behind this Tong-tong thing.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, let me tell you something, Jing-nan. Kidnapping and abductions are so nineties. Nobody does it anymore. Low-profile crimes are much more profitable in the long run. You could make more money selling fake iPhones in the countryside than abducting a businessman.”

  “The kidnappers don’t want money,” I said.

  His rusty laugh came at me hard. I was going to need a tetanus shot after. “Ah, they don’t even want money! What does that tell you, Jing-nan?”

  “That it’s not about money?”

  Fu-xiang joyously tapped the roof of the car hard. God, these old mainlanders are so excitable! “You know what, Jing-nan? You see the obvious. Seriously, that’s a skill. It’s something Chiang Kai-shek could never do. He never realized that he had lost China for good. Retake the mainland, my ass.”

  I thought I saw Frankie flinch. Fu-xiang continued.

  “Anyway, of course it’s not just about money. But what else is important? Chinese people aren’t always good about passing down money through the generations, but what do they always give their children? Oh, never mind, I don’t have enough gas in my tank to wait for you to guess right. Revenge! We love revenge! You don’t get it, you benshengren. The Japanese perverted you in the colonial era. They bred a submissive streak in you to make you bend to the divine emperor!”

  Shortly after crossing the bridge, we slowed and pulled close to the outside curb.

  “I don’t think we’re allowed to stop here,” I said.

  “Who’s stopping?” spat Fu-xiang. I looked through the windshield and saw that we were drawing nearer to a small exit partially hidden by the flowering branches of a weeping willow. The tree lightly raked the roof of the car as we took the exit. We found ourselves on a dirt road that tilted down and took us to the edge of the river. Reflected lights sparkled and quivered across the water’s surface.

  Fu-xiang parked and killed the lights.

  “It’s nice to come here at night and relax a little with old friends and hammer out business.” He eased back the seat and exhaled with extreme satisfaction.

  Frankie popped open the glove compartment, brought out a bottle and shook out two cups from a plastic sleeve. Fu-xiang took note and touched Frankie’s arm.

  “Old friend, we need a cup for Jing-nan, too.”

  Frankie turned to me and shook his head. “He’s not drinking this stuff.”

  “Well, let him say so.” Fu-xiang lifted the liquor in his hands and as soon as I saw the white ceramic bottle, I knew what it was. “Maotai,” he declared. “Aw, Frankie’s right. You have to have full Chinese blood to drink it.”

  “A lot of Taiwanese drink it, too,” I offered.

  “Sure, anybody can pour it down their throat, but you people don’t really taste it because you’ve forgotten the graves of your ancestors back on the mainland. You don’t remember them on your altars.” He danced his fingernails against the bottle. “You want to drink some, anyway, kid?”

  “No. I don’t like the taste.”

  “He doesn’t like the taste,” grumbled Fu-xiang as he twisted off the cap and poured. “If it were a boba tea, he’d drink it.” He handed a cup to Frankie. The smell alone stung my eyes.

  “The younger generation doesn’t go for alcohol like we did,” said Frankie.

  “We took to it like fucking fish,” said Fu-xiang. They scraped the ribbed plastic of their cups together and swigged. Fu-xiang swallowed and gasped. “If it weren’t for this, we wouldn’t have made it through Green Island.”

  “You had booze in prison?” I asked.

  “Anybody can be bribed, and anything can be done as long as the bribe is big enough,” said Fu-xiang. “Right, Frankie?”

&
nbsp; Frankie the Cat raised his eyebrow in a manner that could be an expression of surprise or a warning.

  Fu-xiang cleared his throat and moved on quickly. “So, Jing-nan, let’s talk about Tong-tong. This is a revenge situation. It’s not even about the chip design, really. The whole streaming on the Internet thing is meant to humiliate him and his family.” Fu-xiang unbuckled his seat belt and it whipped back into place as he turned to look at me.

  I saw his entire face in full by the lights coming off the river. It was round and fleshy with big cheeks, fat lips and a double chin. It looked like Fu-xiang’s face had been roasted to become dark brown at the higher points.

  “That video was certainly embarrassing for Tong-tong,” I said.

  “It was effective,” said Fu-xiang with a measure of admiration. “You have to find someone who lost face because of Tong-tong. Did he cross a business partner or bail out on a big project that left other people holding the bag? Maybe even his wife?” He scratched the bridge of his nose. “You know what? Actually, think about this. We’re probably looking at a grudge that’s a generation or two old, judging by the severity of this act. Take a look at what Tong-tong’s father or grandfather did.”

  “You don’t think the chip plans figure into this at all? People seem to think they’re valuable.”

  Frankie brandished the bottle and Fu-xiang raised his cup to meet it. “I don’t know anything about technology,” he said. “But why would you abduct someone from a public event, which is harder than snatching him off the street? And why make your demands public, which increases the chances that you’ll get caught? They’re taking on extra risk because making all these details adds to the public embarrassment.”

  I heard a vehicle coming in through the weeds. A Toyota pulled alongside us, stopped and killed its lights. Fu-xiang raised his hat to take in a full view of the second car.

  “Well, that’s all I can offer, really,” said Fu-xiang in dismissing me.

  “Thank you for all your help, Fu-xiang.” Two men who looked like they were in their forties exited the Toyota and approached.

  “Say, you’re Big Eye’s kid?” asked Fu-xiang

  “He’s my uncle.”

  “Oh, that’s right. He’s got a daughter. What a shame. It’s up to you to carry on the family line, Jing-nan. Make sure you have boys.”

  I felt my ears heat up but I decided not to check his chauvinist comments. He was probably proud of them. “Are you friends with Big Eye?” I asked.

  “I know him,” said Fu-xiang. Such faint acknowledgement in a society built upon exaggerated intimacy implied the subtext, And I don’t like him.

  Frankie and Fu-xiang wordlessly grasped all four hands briefly and released.

  “Let’s go, Jing-nan,” Frankie said to me as he popped open his door.

  I wasn’t sure if I should shake hands with Fu-xiang but he reached back and touched my shoulder.

  “I hope I helped.”

  “You did, thank you.” Tong-tong probably screwed a lot of people over, but what had his father or grandfather done? World War II and the Chinese Civil War caused a lot of mainlander families to make some tough, selfish and inhuman choices. I know that families chose what kids to bring over to Taiwan and which to leave in China. Spouses split up, thinking the war would be over at some point and they’d see each other again soon. I seriously doubted that the cops explored this part of the Lee family’s history.

  First, though, I needed Frankie to get me home.

  The two new guys and Frankie were all smiling big and sharing enthusiastic hellos in the way that people do in passing when they forget each other’s names. How ya doing, guy! So good to see ya, man!

  They were both dressed in thin sweat jackets and, ignoring the context in which I was seeing them, they could have been friends meeting up for the first time after becoming new dads. For their part, the new dads themselves each gave me a knowing once-over. They were slightly shorter than Frankie.

  “Lai le!” Fu-xiang called out as the men climbed into his car and they responded in kind. It means, “You’re here!” in Mandarin and it seemed to be a rather trite way to begin what was obviously a clandestine meeting.

  The men had left the keys in their car. Frankie hopped in and tilted his head at me. I went around the Toyota’s rear to the front passenger seat.

  When our doors were shut, Frankie said, “It wasn’t much, but maybe you found it useful.”

  “It was, thank you. I hope you didn’t have to go through much trouble.”

  “Not much at all. Of course he doesn’t know who’s behind the kidnapping. He is right—this sort of crime itself is dated and probably has its roots deep in the past. I think Fu-xiang’s sort of amused by it. I’m sure a lot of the brothers are. Well, you’ve tried visiting the guy in jail and that didn’t help. I’ve done the best I could for you, considering the circumstances.”

  “If only you could just tell me who the kidnappers are or rescue Tong-tong yourself.”

  “I would if I could,” he said. “It’s usually good to take some action, but sometimes the best thing to do is wait for a decent opportunity.”

  We pulled back on to the road and I watched bars of light and shadow pass over head and body like scanning rays.

  “They might kill Tong-tong,” I said.

  “They might,” he concurred.

  “Where do you think they’re keeping him?”

  “I don’t know, but one thing is for sure. These kidnappers will slip up, sooner or later. For now, I’m going to take you home. Get some rest and tomorrow we’ll see if there’s something more we can do.”

  “I appreciate the ride, Frankie. I hope this isn’t going out of your way.”

  “When I’m done with you, I have to dispose of the body in the trunk, huh huh.” The Cheshire Cat smile stretched across his face.

  “You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking, Frankie.”

  “Shh. Don’t talk to me while I drive.”

  Chapter 8

  Frankie dropped me off in front of my apartment and left without ever coming to a complete stop.

  I was six steps away from my building entrance when my ear caught the sound of car-door locks firing. I turned and stood my ground. Now what?

  A rear door of a parked car opened and a fatigued Peggy Lee swayed out.

  “Where have you been? Nancy didn’t know where you were and I’ve tried calling you for hours!” When she got close enough she slapped my shoulder hard.

  “Ow!” I cried out. “I had my phone off because I was having a secret meeting.”

  Peggy stuck her face into mine. She was reviving herself more by the second and now anger enlarged all her skin pores. “You promised to help me!” she said. “You have to be ready at all times!”

  I held up my hands. “I am helping you. In fact, I just learned from this guy—”

  She shoved her phone into my chest. I scrambled to catch it. The display was opened to an email with a video attached and ready to play.

  “Peggy, I need some headphones.”

  “There’s no sound,” she said. “Just play it.”

  I hit the button.

  It started with a familiar scene, the two men in dog cages. The camera wobbled and then a thin stream, probably urine, looped out and spilled through the bars onto both men. The cages rattled as the men thrashed.

  The video was eight seconds long. There was no text in the video but the subject line of the email was 24 hours left.

  “Disturbing,” I told Peggy as she snatched the phone back.

  “That’s all you can say? Did you know that my dad’s a neat freak? He never even changed any of his kids’ diapers. Left it all up to Mom and the nannies. I can’t imagine how he feels being pissed on.”

  “Peggy, as I was trying to tell you, I met up tonight with someone who tells me the k
idnapping is all about personal humiliation, not money. This is someone with a, uh, master’s degree in criminality. The chip design itself might just be a distraction. They’re going through lengths to make his ordeal a public display and probably want to torture him for as long as possible. Who knows. The chip design might not even exist, and Ah-tien might just be bullshitting.”

  She crossed her arms.

  Kung stepped out of the car and slammed the door. “Hey, Jing-nan, where can I get something to eat around here?” she called.

  I pointed over Peggy’s shoulder. “There’s a Family Mart two blocks that way, to the left.”

  “Thanks!” Kung stretched her back before walking away.

  “Kung!” yelled Peggy.

  “Yes?”

  “Get me a beef bowl and heat it up in the microwave for a minute or two. I’ll pay you back and I’ll even give you a tip if you’re quick enough.”

  Peggy didn’t seem to take notice of the murderous look on Kung’s face before the woman tore away. Peggy absently patted her stomach.

  “Kung is probably going to spit in your food,” I said.

  “She wouldn’t dare,” said Peggy as she rocked back on her heels. “Where was I? Ah, yes, the chip design. I know for a fact it does exist and it could work.”

  I hooked my thumbs into my pants pockets. “How do you know for sure, Peggy?”

  “I remember seeing them, Jing-nan. I was there at the meeting when my dad brought in an engineering buddy to look over Ah-tien’s plans in his office to see if they were legit. My dad’s friend tried to be very low-key about it, with Ah-tien looking as eager as a realtor to close his first sale. My dad’s buddy kept saying to himself, ‘Now, I’m not so sure, but, yes, maybe . . .’ After Ah-tien left, the engineering guy really flipped out and told my father that the chip was a slam dunk and could be worth billions of dollars, not millions.”

  “Why didn’t your father go into business with Ah-tien?”

  Peggy played with the cuffs of her sleeves. “He’s risk-averse. In general, he doesn’t like investing in tech. He likes to invest in things he can see and touch. Intellectual property that can be licensed doesn’t excite him.