This Is a Bust

by Ed Lin

  “Look what you did to the store! You move pretty quick,”

  I told him.

  “I move smart,” he said. “That means you have to move quick sometimes and hire the right people.”

  “I’m glad you’ve got a decent job now, Paul. How come you can’t clean up the apartment floor this good?”

  “I have to clean around you,” he said with a tight smile.

  I turned back to the midget. “You know where Moy’s moved to?”

  “Somewhere else.”

  “OK, fine. But I need to ask you about something else.”

  I looked at him square.

  “Let’s go have tea.” The midget flipped the store keys to Paul and we went to a tea place on Mott. We sat down in the back against a wall of wood paneling.

  “You know I’ve been beating everybody that filmmaker can dig up for me to play,” the midget said. “He flew out American-chess players from San Francisco and Chinese-chess players from L.A.” There wasn’t a trace of smugness in his voice. “He wants to film a final showdown in the store.”

  “Anyone come close to you yet?” I asked. The dainty teahouse table was low, but it was just a little too high for the midget.

  “This one woman I played against, she had good instincts, but poor execution. She could tell what was going to happen, but she couldn’t come up with a good strategy.”

  “She Chinese?”

  “She is, but she doesn’t speak.”

  “That’s too bad. She could have been the love of your life.”

  “I found the love of my life years and years ago.”

  The waitress brought over a pot of black tea and two heavy ceramic cups. She was about 22 and wearing the restaurant uniform, a bright green tracksuit with a bastardization of the Adidas logo.

  “Would you like some honey or sugar?” she asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “Um, would you like a phone book for your chair?” she asked the midget.

  “Only if it has your number in it,” he said with a wink. She frowned and skittered away.

  “You never miss a chance to harass women,” I said.

  “I never miss a chance to harass stupid people, on or off the game board. So what’s going on?”

  “Have you seen Yip around?”

  “As a matter of fact, I saw him dragging two new suitcases in the street the other day.”

  My heart sank.

  “Did he leave town?” I asked. “I stopped by his apartment, but no one was there. All his stuff’s gone.”

  “He hasn’t yet, but he will. Wouldn’t you if you murdered your wife?”

  “How do you know Wah was murdered?”

  “How could there be lead in a can of preserved bamboo shoots? There isn’t a factory in the world that still uses lead in their cans.”

  “Maybe it fell in somewhere,” I said.

  “The lead fell in that can, after it was opened,” said the midget. “The British colonial government in Hong Kong would never allow lead to end up in a manufacturing plant. China, maybe, but not Hong Kong.”

  “So someone from the restaurant wanted Yip to kill his wife, and he did — by grinding lead paint in a coffee grinder and sprinkling it into her food.”

  “Not just someone from the restaurant — Lily, Wah’s old boss. Of course she wanted Wah dead. Getting a potential union organizer out of the way meant a big promotion for her back in Hong Kong, where the parent company is. It’s owned by an old pro-communist general who was friends with Willie Gee’s dad.”

  “Isn’t it a little weird, that communists want to bust unions?”

  “The old men gave communism to the students and have them preach it to the peasants. All those big company owners in Hong Kong, they live like royalty. They get the biggest houses with the best feng shui — on the top of a mountain by a river. Nice places. They could also probably get their friends very similar places. Even set up someone like Yip in China — out of reach from American authorities.”

  “Why would Yip want to go to China?”

  The midget rolled his eyes. “Yeah, why would he want to go back when he’s got it so good here? Living in a beat-up apartment and sharing a common bathroom with all the other dying old men on his floor.” The midget took a sip of his tea. “You don’t understand because you were born here, Robert. When men came over, they only intended to be here temporarily, even if it ended up being years or decades.”

  “Wah was the one who became an American citizen, not Yip,” I said.

  “They used to argue because Yip wanted to go back and Wah wanted to stay here. Lousy as it was, she loved living here in America.”

  “Couldn’t Yip have just left, without murdering his wife, if he wanted to go back so badly?”

  “Well, he could have. But he wanted to go back with a certain degree of comfort — a fat wallet to take up the slack in his pants.”

  “Where is Yip now?”

  The midget took a deep breath. He reached into his waistband and pulled out a ball-point pen. He scrawled something on a napkin.

  “This is the address of a vacant apartment. Nobody knows who owns it. He’s probably there.”

  The midget whistled at the waitress and said, “Hey tall girl, let’s get the check here. We’re in a rush.”

  “I’m not that tall,” she said.

  “Are you kidding?” said the midget. “You’re a freak!”

  —

  I tested the front door and luckily the lock was broken. I

  had pushed my way half in, but pressed the apartment buzzer anyway.

  Static came over the speaker.

  “Yip,” I said into the dented microphone, “it’s me, the cop.”

  He didn’t buzz the door open, but it didn’t matter.

  When I got up the stairs, Yip was standing in the apartment doorway wearing a thin t-shirt, shorts, socks, and slippers. He looked frail and old.

  “Officer Chow, this is a surprise.”

  “You seem a little nervous, Yip. What’s going on?”

  “It’s just that I wasn’t expecting you.” He managed to break his face into a smile. “Hey, come in, sit down.”

  “You’ve got a teapot boiling and some butter cookies on your table. You were expecting someone.”

  “I’m just having a snack.”

  “Maybe I’ll have one, too,” I said, strolling into the apartment.

  Yip leaned against the sink and shifted uncomfortably. The rickety kitchen table held a paper plate with assorted Danish butter cookies. A pack of playing cards lay next to the plate.

  “What does she see in you?” I asked him.

  “Who?”

  “Lily,” I said, taking a cookie. He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled.

  “I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” he said, hiding his hands in his armpits. He remained standing. I sat in a chair next to his two suitcases and knocked them over with my knee.

  Yip cringed as the luggage tumbled.

  “I’m so clumsy,” I said. I picked up the pack of cards. “How about a game of blackjack, Yip?”

  “I’m feeling a little tired, maybe we could play tomorrow.”

  I glanced at the suitcases.

  “I’ve got a funny feeling you ain’t gonna be around tomorrow.”

  He came over and sat at the table. “Maybe one quick game,” he said.

  “I think we should play for a while,” I said. “I’m feeling real lucky.” We played about a dozen hands. I was the dealer and busted on nearly every hand.

  “Now it’s your turn to deal,” I said.

  “I’m an old man, you can’t let me get too tired,” Yip said weakly.

  “Come on, I know how you like to gamble. Please don’t be so polite. You shouldn’t feel bad about winning.”

  He dealt me the ace of spades, but my second card was a four. Two cards signifying death. There was a knock at the apartment door. Yip shuffled the cards and didn’t move.

  “Someone’s her
e,” I said.

  “Yes, but it must be the wrong apartment.”

  “You shouldn’t ignore it,” I said.

  “I shouldn’t have answered the door all day,” he said, glaring at me. I jumped up and pulled open the door.

  “We’ve met,” I said. “Lily, right? Thought you were in China.”

  Her face, already powdered to the hilt, went even paler.

  “Why Officer Chow, I didn’t know you’d be here. What a surprise.”

  “Come in, come in! What are you doing here, Lily?” I said. She took tentative steps inside, as if she expected the floor to give way. Yip set the cards aside. He looked as if he had a mild fever.

  “Wah had arthritis, didn’t she Yip?”

  “Yes, she did. You know that. Everybody knows that. It was a struggle every day for her to work.”

  “My grandmother had arthritis and it was always worst for her when she woke up,” I said. “She couldn’t do anything. I had to turn on the water, tie her shoes, open cans.”

  Yip sat back and folded his arms. “What are you getting at?” he asked.

  “I know you ground up lead paint to spike that can of bamboo shoots, but I still don’t understand how you could do it. Kill a helpless old woman whose only mistake was loving you and living with you.”

  Lily inched along the wall, looking for a crack to slip into.

  “Why would I want to kill my wife?” Yip cried out. I felt anger rumble in the back of my head.

  The lights went out. I lunged and had Lily by the throat. I threw her on the floor. I snapped the lights back on.

  “That was a childish thing to do!” I growled. Lily was on the floor, choke-sobbing. “What did Jade Palace’s owners promise you to get rid of Wah? How big a raise did you get from Willie Gee?”

  “You’re so stupid,” Lily mumbled to the floor.

  “You’re nothing but a lousy, drunk policeman!” sneered Yip. He turned, bared his teeth at me, and sprayed saliva when he talked. “You only got your job to fill a racial quota. You’re a no-good son of a no-good man who committed suicide in disgrace!”

  I looked over at the table. I kicked it over and pulverized the nearest cookie with my heel.

  Then I calmly clicked my radio. It wasn’t working. I looked around the apartment. There was no phone.

  “I’m going downstairs to call the precinct on a payphone,” I said, handcuffing Yip’s hands behind his back. “Don’t even think you can go anywhere,” I warned Lily.

  I left the apartment and found a phone next to a rusted garbage can across the street. Before I got to it, I heard a scream and a crash back at Yip’s building. I put my hands in my pockets and let out a whistle.

  —

  A few days later, I was sitting in the Brow’s office.

  “I am ordering you to stay away from Lily Leung, Mr. Chow,” he said. “She’s an upstanding member of the community and you’re harassing her.”

  “She’s going to sneak off to China and never come back, sir.”

  “I don’t blame her. She saw her friend jump out a window. I’d be traumatized, too.”

  “Sir, do you know where those marks on her face came from? She pushed him out and he tried to bite her.”

  “He pushed her back and jumped out. He was grieving for his recently deceased wife.”

  “With his bags packed, sir?”

  “Son, why are you holding on to this?”

  “Sir, Yip’s wife, Wah, was trying to organize the workers. Lily paid off Yip to kill her. Then she killed Yip to cover up her trail.” The Brow squinted at me and stomped his foot.

  “That’s absolutely brilliant, Mr. Chow! That’s why you’re our most experienced detective!”

  “Sir, maybe you’re not treating these deaths as murders because the Times and the Daily News ignored the story.”

  “I call that exercising good news judgment.”

  I sat back and crossed my arms.

  “Don’t be unhappy Mr. Chow, we’re giving you an EPD for keeping the peace during the chaos of the Chinese New Year parade.”

  “Excellent Police Duty. That’s great, sir,” I said. EPD was the lowest citation you could get. Boy scouts could qualify for it.

  “Also, it seems that the Chinese community got wind of your citation. They’re setting up a dinner in your honor, Mr. Chow. Think of all the times you’ve attended these events, and now you’re the honoree! Look at the progress you’ve made.”

  “Who’s putting on this dinner, sir?”

  “It’s going to be at Jade Palace. Willie Gee is arranging everything. You’re going to make the front pages of the Chinese papers. Congratulations, Mr. Chow.”

  He stood up and shook my hand, although I was too shocked to get up.

  “You realize, sir, that Willie Gee is Lily Leung’s employer?”

  “This dinner shows that there’s no hard feelings! I think you’re reaching a moment of truth, Mr. Chow. Now you can see how highly you’re regarded in the community.”

  —

  English was waiting for me in the hallway.

  “So you’re getting a dinner thrown for you, Chow. Momma must be real proud of her boy.”

  “Don’t call me ‘boy.’”

  “You’re a really funny guy, Chow. You know, I didn’t understand your sense of humor before, but now I think I get it. Anyway here’s a little something I got you. Welcome aboard. I’m giving you an investigative assignment.” He pressed something smooth and plastic into my hands.

  “You’re giving me a Polaroid camera?”

  “You know the drill. You’re not that dumb. When you’re making your rounds, take pictures of any suspicious youth you see. Let’s see how you do with that.”

  “How do you define suspicious?”

  “Anyone who looks smarter than you.”

  —

  I walked down to the street and stretched my arms. The sun felt warm.

  There were about a dozen people in the toy store. The midget was behind the counter, playing a game of Chinese chess with Vandyne. Paul was restocking the shelves with little bottles of enamel paint.

  I held up my camera. “Got you something, Paul,” I said.

  “What am I going to do with this?” he asked.

  “Take pictures of cops,” I said. I turned to Vandyne and the midget. “They’re throwing a dinner to honor me. I’m getting an award for stopping the parade disturbance.”

  Vandyne put one hand on my shoulder. “All right,” he said.

  “That filmmaker’s coming by here soon,” said Paul. “He wants this to be the finale to his movie. A guy goes from playing games in a park to buying a toy store. He wants all the midget’s friends in it, too.”

  “Well, I better get my hair cut,” I said. I left for the barber’s on Doyers.

  “Hey!” yelled Law the barber when I came in the door.

  “Law, I’m going to give you a break and let you take your time on this one. I’m going to be in a movie. I want a haircut, shampoo, and a shave,” I said.

  “I’m going to make you look like a star,” Law said, laughing. “I’m going to put your picture on my wall.”

  I had time to read some of the Taiwan-biased paper before he could get to me.

  The Wells Fargo armored car robbery in New York was possibly an inside job; a couple of gunmen had gotten away with $851,000. Jimmy Carter had won the Wisconsin Democratic primary for the presidency. The KMT Chinese were worried about him because it was rumored that if he were elected, he’d establish ties with the People’s Republic and cut off Taiwan. He’d been a farmer, and was therefore a communist sympathizer.

  “Hey you, right now,” Law said to me, patting an empty chair.

  He delicately pulled a sheet around my neck and placed a steaming cloth over my face. It was like being wrapped in

  a womb. Then Law sprayed my hair with water and snipped around for a while. I felt wet hair clips brush by my ears.

  The bell on the door suddenly went off and someone ran in.


  “Robert!” yelled Paul.

  “What?” I said, yanking the towel off my face.

  “The filmmaker’s at the toy store now and he brought in this guy from Japan. The midget’s losing! Everyone’s there!” He was out of breath.

  I jumped up and pulled the sheet off. Law scowled, jerked his drawer open, and chucked his scissors into it.

  “I’ll be back, Law. I’m sorry about this. I’m so sorry,” I said on my way out.

  We pushed our way into the store. People were crowding the sidewalk, trying to see inside. With a stage light set up in the store, it was brighter than the first day of summer vacation. The filmmaker had shoved his fist into his mouth.

  The Japanese player folded his hands in front of him as he stared at the board placidly. It was looking bad for the midget, who had a far-off look of wonderment in his eyes.

  We got there just in time. The game was over in only a few more moves.

  The midget won, of course. It had only looked like he was losing.

  —

  Willie Gee must have had some really good info on me, because seated with me at the first dining table in Jade Palace’s banquet hall were the midget, Lonnie, Vandyne, Rose, Wang, and coach Teeter. And my mother. Paul had to watch the toy store. I’d see him at home later. Another entire table was taken up by community-relations officers that you never actually saw in the neighborhood and their wives. They all needed forks.

  It was a nice dinner, one of the fancy Chinese ones where every dish is a kind of meat, and no rice or vegetables are served. A long stretch of seafood and meats slipped in and spun on the large lazy Susan in the middle of the table. Sliced jellyfish, cuttlefish, stewed snakehead fish, steamed flounder, Peking duck, sliced dried beef, sliced dried pork, lobster, and shrimp were all reduced to bones, shells, and colorful smears.

  For the presentation portion of the evening, I was seated on a platform between the chairman of the Pearl River Businessmen’s Association and the head of the Kwangtung Province Business Alliance. A dozen other businessmen were up there with me. I had on my uniform – for the last time, I told myself.

  A banner hung over our heads. In English it said, “Chinatown Supports Police Department.” In Chinese it said, “Congratulations, Happiness, and Longevity.” Photographers from three Chinese-language newspapers snapped pictures. One was supported by the KMT. One was working for a Hong Kong conglomerate. The third was backed by money from the communists.