99 Ways to Die

by Ed Lin

  Kung threw her head back. “I was only kidding,” she said.

  I surveyed the table. Only one skewer was left. In Taiwan, everybody hated to eat the last of anything because taking it would indicate how selfish one was—a big no-no in pretty much every Asian culture. Someone had to force someone else to take it and after an excuses-as-filibuster struggle, somebody finally would.

  Maybe I could use the cultural convention to my advantage.

  “Huang,” I said, “you should take that last skewer. I know it takes a lot of energy to hold in all those secrets that you have.”

  “I don’t hold in secrets,” he said, quickly stifling a belch.

  “You have many, many secrets, things you won’t tell anybody because you’re very important. You’re the highest-ranking person here.” Kung shivered slightly as I slid the container over to Huang. “Please take it.”

  Huang’s fingers lay in wait like a sea-floor predator, and he licked his lips. “Okay. I get it. You want to know where the building is.” He glanced at Peggy. “You don’t even know, right?”

  She straightened up and blinked. “Not specifically, no.”

  He nodded and grabbed the skewer. Huang had literally taken the bait. He twirled it in his fingers as he spoke. “It was a factory for textiles. Tong-tong is going to knock it down to build another shopping mall.”

  “Where’s the building?”

  Huang cracked his fingers. “Now, I wasn’t there myself. I only had a picture from a friend who was on the scene.” He leaned to the side to take his phone out of a pants pocket and fiddled with it a little bit. “There it is.” He held out the display to us. “It’s on a street corner.”

  The building was made of hastily poured concrete. It seemed to be slightly lopsided. There weren’t many windows and they were all near the roof.

  “Where is this relative to the Ferris wheel?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe to the back of the photographer.”

  Peggy reached in and grabbed the phone. “You shouldn’t have this image. It’s a private property.”

  “Hey!” said Huang but he watched her delete the image. “I wasn’t going to post it online,” he said as she handed it back.

  “I can’t have you leaking it to the press for money.”

  “How much do they pay?”

  “A lot.”

  Huang looked in wonderment at his phone.

  “Do you have a copy on your computer?” Peggy asked him.

  “No,” he said, his voice hollow.

  “Did you see the building in person?” I asked him.

  “I picked up my friend there because even though we had just rescued Tong-tong, the guy ordered everybody out.”

  “Do you remember the street corners?” asked Nancy.

  Huang crossed his arms and his face showed he was remembering a time of light pain. “If I think about it . . .”

  Peggy slapped her thighs and stood up. “Hey, anybody feel like seeing a movie? I feel like we should watch something.”

  I could tell the next move was for the living room with the projection television bolted to the ceiling. “Maybe we can talk a little bit more here,” I said. “Huang’s in the middle of something.”

  “We can talk during the movie!” she grunted. Peggy turned on the living room light and flicked another switch that plunged the rest of us into darkness. “Let’s go!”

  Six two-seater couches were laid out like rib bones. Peggy thumbed through the menus on the universal remote.

  “When I left my husband, I only regretted leaving all those DVDs, but now everything streams, so I get the last laugh.” She called up a black-and-white film. “I love the old Italian films. They’re so fast. Taiwanese films are too slow and nobody ever says what they really want to.”

  “Personally,” I interjected, “I don’t like movies where people talk too much.” But I really liked when people who were being recorded talked too much. Speaking of which, it would be really great to get that bottle into the living room and press Huang some more.

  Kung looked like she was a lightweight drinker. I guess Huang was, as well. He had seemed fairly sober while seated at the table, but now he was crawling on the sofas on his elbows and knees. Kung had to give him a hand so that he wouldn’t drop on the floor. He nodded to thank her.

  Did he have anything else that was useful? How trustworthy was his memory at this point?

  I glanced at Peggy. She was kneading the universal remote with both hands in frustration.

  “Can someone help me here?” she asked God. I looked at Nancy with anticipation.

  “I’m pretty good at this,” said Nancy. Peggy handed over the remote but hovered. I sidled up to Huang who was now in a sitting position but looked dazed.

  “Would you mind unlocking your phone?” I asked. I wanted to see if maybe I could find the text or email that had the image of the building.

  He must’ve been more gone than I had thought because he shrugged, punched something into his phone and eagerly handed it to me.

  I almost handed it right back when I saw the screen because at first I thought he had entered his code incorrectly. Then I read the notification again: Are you sure you want to delete this image?

  I pressed NO and grabbed at my own phone. The first thing I did was take a picture of the picture. Then I opened the information window on Huang’s phone. Luck was with me—it had the GPS coordinates for the photo. I took a picture of that, as well. I clicked my phone off just in time to hear Peggy make a declaration.

  “Well, I could have figured that out, Nancy!” The remote was back in Peggy’s hands.

  “You mean after I showed you how to do it?” asked Nancy as she coiled up on the couch.

  Peggy put on her cultivated hurt look, almost on par with any B-grade actress playing a character with no last name. “How dare you!” That was her opening. “How dare you insult me after I opened the door of my home for you!” She winged the remote into a couch cushion and stomped to the kitchen.

  No, I thought. Please, whatever you do, don’t grab our wine bottle. She reentered the room brandishing exactly that.

  “And this is what you brought? This is what you had to offer? This joke-ass wine?” Peggy was brandishing the bottle as if she were about to launch a ship. The plastic looked like a dark glass, but it sure didn’t feel real. Peggy couldn’t be so wasted that she didn’t notice. She slammed the bottle twice against the wall, under a framed film poster signed by Ang Lee.

  Splinters of plastic broke off and flitted through the air. Nancy’s old phone, which had been concealed inside, came hurtling at Kung’s face. She lazily reached out and caught it.

  I stood up and put my hands on my hips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for that phone!” I declared, not even convincing myself. “I can’t believe I left it there!”

  “My old classmate,” said Peggy, tonelessly. “My old friend was spying on me.”

  “I wasn’t spying on you, Peggy. I was spying on the cops. I’m trying to help you and your father find his kidnappers.”

  “The Lees don’t need your help!” She waved an arm to encompass the entire room. “We don’t need help from any of you!”

  Kung raised a hand. “I swear, after the way you’ve been treating me, I wasn’t going to help you one bit.”

  “I think I’ve reached that point, as well,” said Huang.

  “Good!” declared Peggy.

  Huang wasn’t quite through. “And, I’d like to repeat, your father is preventing the police from doing their jobs.”

  “All the evidence has already been removed from our property and delivered to you. It doesn’t make any sense to have people trample through the building over and over when there’s nothing left to see.”

  “Peggy,” I said, “how do you know the warehouse’s been searched thoroughly?
”

  “My father told me it was! Considering that he was a prisoner there himself, I think he would know best.”

  “I think we should let Kung and Huang check it out on their own.”

  “No,” said Kung.

  “Absolutely not,” said Huang. “We’ve already been warned by our superiors to stay the hell away from there.”

  Peggy beamed with triumph. “There you have it, Jing-nan. It’s over.”

  “Why don’t we go there?” asked Nancy. We all turned to her. She pointed at Peggy. “Me, you and Jing-nan. We’ll just have a look around. But if we find something that may be interesting, you have to agree to allow the cops in to evaluate it.”

  Peggy assumed a defensive stance by sitting down and crossing her legs and arms. “What if we don’t find anything? How are you going to compensate me for my lost time and wasted effort?”

  “Jing-nan won’t circulate the picture of the warehouse that he’s taken from Huang’s phone.”

  Peggy swung her accusing eyes at me. I shoved my phone in my front pants pocket to keep it safe. “Don’t you hate it when you have to click twice to delete something?”

  Chapter 13

  Peggy agreed as long as we went to the warehouse right then. I think she was counting on Nancy and me nixing the whole thing because of the lateness of the hour and our own fatigue.

  She didn’t know the resilient nature and infinite patience of benshengren.

  Didn’t we wait out the Dutch occupation of Taiwan until the pirate Kochinga drove them out? Didn’t we wait fifty years for the Japanese colonial masters to leave? Aren’t we now waiting for the mainlanders to go back to their beloved homeland? Well, the bad ones, anyway.

  Actually, here’s one thing I don’t understand about mainlanders. How come when they came over in 1949, they were all about “Kill the Commies,” but now they love the People’s Republic?

  What could have changed the minds of the mainlanders, who are, in general, incredibly stubborn?

  As we entered the empty warehouse, I decided to put the question to Peggy.

  “Pardon me, I was wondering something about your family.”

  Peggy unlocked the main door with a card swipe, then pressed a button on her fob, causing her sports car to chirp. “Yeah, what, Jing-nan?”

  We walked into the lobby, which was only partially lit. It smelled like the floor had been mopped recently.

  “Your family, you guys were all Nationalists back in China. Why do you love the Communists now?”

  Peggy laughed to herself as she jerked open a drawer where a security guard had once sat. “You people are ridiculous,” said Peggy as she handed flashlights to Nancy and me. “You have no idea what it was like in China. During World War II, you were lounging around in your kimonos like a bunch of Nip-lovers. Meanwhile, we were fighting the Japanese twenty-four seven. Then after that, thanks to Mao’s treachery, the Chinese turned their guns on each other. My family was lucky to get out, but not all the Lees were so lucky.”

  I turned on my flashlight to test it and shone the light in her face. “Wasn’t Chiang treacherous, as well?”

  She pushed my arm down and trained her light on my face. “You would have been the same way. If you didn’t fuck over someone when you had the chance, they’d end up getting you.”

  “What an awful way to live,” said Nancy. She turned on her flashlight and flipped through the logbook on the desk. “I can’t believe the kidnappers didn’t have the courtesy to sign in and out.”

  I walked away from Peggy’s flashlight beam but she continued to talk. “My family did what they had to in order to survive and ensure that their descendants prospered. They didn’t love the Nationalists. I can say that now.”

  “Peggy,” said Nancy, “you said that some of your family didn’t make it out of China?”

  “I think some stayed,” said Peggy. “Some made it out to some other countries. We were one of the big landlord families, so all of those peasants wanted a piece of our ass. But enough with the family history—let’s try to find something to catch those kidnappers or else we’re just wasting time. If we come up empty then we pack it up and head home. The basement entrance should be around here.” She began to walk, one hand extended in front of her.

  “Why can’t you turn on the lights?” asked Nancy.

  “There are no lights to turn on. The building is basically offline.” I heard a click and a metallic door groan as her flashlight beam swung in the dark. “I found it! Let’s go already!”

  We followed her to the stairwell entrance. She stomped down the grated steel steps.

  “Are you sure you can do that in heels?” Nancy called after her.

  “I got this,” Peggy yelled back. Nancy shrugged and followed. I went last because I had remembered that a man had been killed here on a live-streamed video, and it had begun to creep me out.

  On the basement level, we all noticed that the rear was fairly well lit. The signs from the gigantic shopping mall caused the Ferris wheel’s spokes to cast shadows along the walls. Some areas of the room were bright as day.

  “Well, we’re here,” said Peggy. “Now what should we do, Captain Jing-nan?”

  I swung my light around. The room was smaller than I had thought it would be and it appeared to be empty. Still, it was about half the size of a basketball court and there could be clues lurking somewhere.

  “I think we should split up and search the floor thoroughly.”

  “I’m sure my father’s people already did.”

  “Let’s just make sure,” I said. “Peggy, take the area along the left wall. Nancy, you take the right. I’ll walk around the center. If you guys find something, don’t touch it. Take a picture, mark it with GPS and we’ll have the cops check it out. Let’s meet up at the far wall.” Peggy proceeded as directed. “Don’t be scared, Nancy,” I said.

  She pushed me playfully. “Just for that, I should hide and jump out at you.”

  “No!”

  “All right, Jing-nan. Seriously though, what should we look out for?”

  “I’m not sure. I just feel like there’s something about this place that everybody’s missed.”

  Nancy touched my back. “I’ll look carefully,” she said as she left.

  I stretched the oval of my flashlight beam along the floor from one side to the other. The three of us walked at the same measured pace. A foot of dust rose up to haunt me with each step. It seemed to clear up for a stretch, and then I found what looked like a comet spray of blood.

  That executive had been shot right here and died. I swept my light around and found two lines in the blood pattern that must have been made by the dog cage. I pinned my flashlight to my waist with my elbow and tried to focus my camera on the stains. My fingers twitched as I snapped a few pictures, most of them focused.

  I’ve had my hands covered in blood up to my elbows, but that was animal blood, not human. The sight of the stains made me sick. I hoped Tong-tong’s people had allowed the cops to come in and record all this. I mean, the cops must’ve when they took the body out. My pictures were only going to supplement what the cops had.

  There wasn’t much else I encountered on my walk to the wall. Some old cardboard apparel tags, piles of plastic hangers and collapsed ghosts of plastic bags.

  I noticed Nancy had paused at some point near the end of her walk.

  “Did you find something?” I asked her.

  She made a gross-out face. “I found a plastic bag of clothes,” she said. “I didn’t touch it, but it smelled like shit and it was covered in ants.”

  Peggy charged over to us. “Were those my father’s pants?”

  “I don’t know. I saw the fabric. It looked like a suit.”

  Peggy stalked off in the darkness, retracing Nancy’s steps. “I am not going to let the cops get a hold of it!”

 
“Peggy,” I said, “don’t mess with evidence!”

  “Like hell it’s evidence! It’s just one more thing that could embarrass my father!”

  We heard footsteps doing double-time on the metal stairs. Whoever was making the racket had much better flashlights than ours. They were practically car lamps.

  “Who’s here?” a gruff voice demanded.

  “It’s Peggy Lee,” she threw back. “I’m the owner of this building.”

  The footsteps slowed to a stop. “Oh, Ms. Lee, I’m so sorry.” The outline of a uniformed security guard began to define itself as he approached. “It is you, isn’t it?”

  Peggy put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, we’re not neighborhood kids playing hide and seek, are we? And what’s up with the gun, pal?”

  I hadn’t noticed that he had a gun drawn. He mumbled something and holstered it.

  “Since when do we authorize our people to carry weapons?” asked Principal Peggy.

  “It’s a precaution,” said the guard. “Because of your father.”

  He pushed back his snapback cap and wiped sweat away from his forehead. I caught a dopey look in his eyes before he pulled his hat back down. Lee Enterprises it read on the front.

  A slightly shorter security guard trudged up next to him.

  “Are you carrying a gun, too?” accused Peggy.

  “Uh, one gun between us is good enough. We saw some lights in here and we had no idea what to expect.”

  Peggy pointed at the taller guard. “You. What’s your name?”

  “Lee. Like yours.”

  “Your name just happens to be the same character, but it’s not like ours. Anyway, there’s a bag of shit-stained pants near the wall over there. I need you to pick it up and get rid of it. Throw it in the incinerator, if there is one around here.”

  He swallowed. “A bag of shit?”

  “You have a problem with that?”

  “I’m a guard, not a garbage man. I’m not even a low-level security guard.” He stammered a little. Clearly he didn’t think carrying shit was in his job description. “I’m stationed at the dormitory across the street.”