Fifty-two
April's first thought when she went through the door to the famous Tang Ling shop was that she didn't want to alarm Ching in any way, but she didn't want her around today She'd made a mistake involving her at all. She definitely wanted Ching way gone before she took Kim in the car with her. Her unmarked Ford was out front. She'd told the two detectives to watch all the entrances before she went inside.
"Is Ching Ma Dong here yet?" she asked the blond receptionist sitting at a desk on the first floor.
"No, she hasn't come in yet. Are you Sergeant Woo?"
"Yes."
"Miss Ling is expecting you in her office. Fourth floor."
"Thanks." April took a mirrored elevator and was immediately admitted to Tang's office. April had been expecting a bigger-than-life woman and was surprised to find that Tang Ling herself was a small, angry dragon wearing a fog-colored Armani suit with a pink silk blouse.
Tang was five-one, maybe five-one-and-a-half on a good day, probably not a hundred pounds. Still, she swept out from behind a huge glass-topped desk covered with sketches and swatches of fabric like a model taking a runway. "April Woo. You're Ching's sister. She's not here yet," she said, appraising April's figure and outfit. The first very good, the second only so-so.
"We're sister-cousins," April said, nodding. "Our mothers are friends." She tried not to be too awed by Ching's college acquaintance who was suddenly now such a close friend. She hated that Ching had told this superstar she was in charge of the case. So embarrassing and untrue.
"From the same town?"
"Ah, same borough. We all live in Queens." April knew that Tang Ling meant the same town in China, but no one cared to remember anymore what that town had been. April also knew that Tang Ling lived in several places, including Paris, Park Avenue, and L.A. And she did not come from the same planet that April and Ching did no matter how nice Ching said she was. That was pretty clear.
Tang Ling wore a circle of pearls around her neck the size of walnuts. The pearls were rare colors strung together—warm gold, cool silver, ink black, the pearl gray of her suit, lipstick pink, and the snowiest white. April had never seen a golden pearl before. On Tang's finger was a dazzling square-cut diamond, huge, next to a plain gold wedding band. On her right wrist was a fun watch with a pink plastic strap and diamond-studded face. The show of wealth reminded April of Rabbi Levi's remark about exciting envy.
"I have spoken to your boss," Tang said loftily, giving April the distinct feeling she meant the police commissioner, not Lieutenant Iriarte.
April nodded politely.
"This is a terrible thing. I feel so keenly the loss of these girls. Both of them my clients. My lawyer is on the way."
Ah, did Tang know something? April felt a surge of excitement as Tang moved to a thronelike chair and sat, gesturing for April to sit on the bisque sofa opposite. April couldn't help noticing how the small woman moved in her suit, carrying her clothes, not wearing them. She crossed her legs, showing off shoes with no backs and long pointed toes made of exquisite gray-toned reptile skins. Slides so costly that even the copies had to be expensive, and these weren't copies. On a Monday morning Tang Ling was dressed to intimidate. Why?
"Did you see the newspapers all last week?" The woman's broad face flushed angry red, marring her perfect makeup, a lighter color than her own medium-dark skin.
"Photos of Tovah everywhere, all identifying my gown. And now Prudence! Same thing. Second bride murdered in a Tang Ling gown. I can't let this stand. I was on Good Morning today; did you see me?" she demanded.
"No, I'm sorry. I missed it. I understand you offered a reward," April said slowly.
"Yes, of course." Tang looked furious. "I couldn't just ignore it. This is a terrible thing for a special-occasion business. I had to do something to show my concern."
From the look on Tang's face April suspected a publicity angle. "Has anyone threatened you, either directly or indirectly, recently?"
Tang gave her a blank look. "I don't know what you mean."
"An employee, for example, a customer, a vendor? Can you think of anybody who has a reason to be angry at you, to want to hurt you by putting you in the spotlight like this?"
"What? You're not suggesting this has something to do with me?" Tang looked stunned.
"Two of your clients have been murdered," April murmured.
"But—"
"And possibly a third a few months ago. Did you know Andrea Straka?"
"Oh, no. Oh, my God. Oh, don't bring this to my door." Tang clapped a manicured hand to her forehead. "This is outrageous. Yes, she was a client. But that was a subway accident, wasn't it? She fell."
"We're taking another look at the case."
"Oh, my." Tang's eyes widened in horror. "But this has nothing to do with me. I just make wedding gowns. You can't possibly think that someone... that someone I know—could possibly have .. .7"
"We're looking for patterns, similarities. The two murdered girls and Andrea—their families are so different. We're looking for common threads that bring them together. Your gowns are one link. Even the press has picked it up."
"But there must be other links," Tang said angrily.
"Oh, yes, and we're following those, too. Is Kim Simone here today?" April suddenly shifted gears.
"Of course. He's upstairs in the sewing room."
Beads of perspiration sprouted on her forehead. "Why?"
"Tell me about him."
"Oh, well..." Tang opened her mouth. "He's my best fitter, my most loyal employee. Why?"
"I heard he has problems."
"Oh, well, he may have problems, but he's a very gentle person. He sent me flowers when Tovah was killed."
"Why?"
"Why did he send dowers? It was a thoughtful gesture. He knew I was upset. He wanted me to know he was thinking of me. He's that loyal. He's really unusually good. He would never do anything to hurt me." She tossed her head.
"What about his wife?"
"I've never liked the wife. She's another story." Tang rolled her eyes. "She's older than he. She's taken advantage of Kim in so many ways. Honestly, you know how it is. He needed to be legal; she wanted a slave. A lot of bad feeling there."
"Enough for her to want to hurt you?"
"To hurt me, yes, absolutely. But to murder two innocent young women ... I would be very shocked. Do you suspect her?"
"It's a shocking case," April murmured, noncommittal.
Tang's buzzer sounded. "Yes?"
"Ching is here."
"Tell her to go to the second door. I'll get her gown myself." Tang gave April a distracted smile. "We need to talk more, of course. But right now, would you meet Ching on the second floor? I'll be with you in a moment."
April hesitated. Ching first, or Kim first? She had the detectives outside, and the receptionist Melody downstairs at the front desk. Kim couldn't get away. She chose Ching. "All right. But please alert your security staff not to let Kim out of the building. I want to talk to him in a few minutes."
Tang nodded, and seconds later April was in the elevator.
Fifty-three
Ching was sitting on a pink silk slipper chair when April got off the elevator. All excited, she gave April a big hug.
"You won't believe this. Tang asked me to have dinner with her tonight. Her husband is in Hong Kong, and she canceled her dinner plans because of the publicity. Did you talk to her?"
"Yes, sweetie, where's your cell phone?" April was not interested in Tang's dinner plans. She was interested only in getting Ching out of the building.
"I left it home, why?"
"I tried to reach you. Let's go downstairs." April took Ching's arm and started moving her toward the stairs.
"What's the matter?" Ching was alarmed.
"Nothing. I just want to talk to you outside for a second."
"But what about my fitting?"
"Let's just leave the building. We can do it another time."
"What do you mean
, another time? The wedding is this week!" Ching was moving her feet down the stairs, but hanging back. Almost a deadweight. "What's the matter, April?"
"Nothing, honey. Let's go. Stay with me on this."
"What the hell are you doing? You're treating me like a retard. Hi, Melody." She waved at the girl at the desk.
Melody waved back. "'Bye, Ching."
They moved through the doors out into the light.
"What was that about? April. . . April.. . talk to me."
"Just come outside and cool it a minute, okay?"
Fifty-four
Kim was working at his place in the workroom, in front of his sewing machine. He was doing the hem of a slippery silk jersey gown that had to be finished and sent out today. He wasn't feeling good, but he had come in to get away from his wife and because of his loyalty to Tang. He wanted to be with her in her time of trouble and show his respect. To give her flowers. He was wearing a white shirt and black pants, the uniform she required of all the sewers. The bright blue Hawaiian shirt he'd worn on the subway was in his carryall, along with his shoes and some leftover food from last night.
He was working on the gown, trying not to think about anything but keeping that stretchy silk from slipping through his fingers. He knew Tang was in the building. He knew she was upstairs in her office talking to a Chinese woman, a cop, the same one who was harassing Wendy. He didn't like that, but he wasn't thinking about the cop. He was thinking about Tang.
He hoped to have a chance to see her later. Sometimes the businesspeople and the telephone kept Tang so busy that she didn't come into the workroom for days at a time, even for a moment.
He was thinking about talking to Tang, telhng her how sorry he was about Prudence, mouthing the same words over and over. He was sdtching by hand when suddenly she came in. He looked up and was surprised to see her there, shaking all over. Her face was red, the way it got when she was really angry. What happened?
"You! Go upstairs to my office," she told the two other sewers, her voice crackling with anger. Their mouths dropped open at her tone, and they fumbled, trying to get out of their seats fast enough to please her.
"Right now. Hurry." She waved her hands, shooing them out.
Kim got up to go with them, his heart beating fast. Tang had a temper. He didn't want her to explode in his face like a hand grenade that blew apart everything that was near it. But he didn't move fast enough. She stepped in front of his table, her hand raised in a fist.
"Not you."
What? He cringed away from the hand darting out at him, but not far enough. She grabbed his ear as the other two scurried out, closing the door behind them. He'd wished that he and Tang could be alone, and now they were alone. He tried to find his voice to talk to her, but she pulled his ear hard, the way his mother used to when he was httle, dragging tears out of his eyes and the sound from his voice. Tang took his voice away. He swallowed it in fear.
A grunt of pain was all he could manage. He couldn't tell her how sad he was for her troubles. How he planned to give her a plant, one of her favorites. She didn't give him time.
"Scandal," she hissed, shaking him the way Clio's dog shook his toy sock with the knot in it, to kill it and kill it again.
"You brought this scandal on me with that terrible wife of yours," she cried. "I could kill you with these two hands." She pushed him, knocking him against the corner of the table. The hard edge bit into the backs of his thighs. Tang was little, but she was strong. Kim's brain felt thick. What was she talking about?
"You wicked toad!" she cried, pushing, pushing.
He wasn't a toad. Not wicked. Everything he did was for her. He loved her, wanted her to protect him and love him like his mother used to. "What did I do?"
Her hot breath was in his face as she pushed him, hurting the bruises where the broom hit him yesterday. He could smell her perfume in her clothes, stale coffee and garlic in her mouth.
"Get out of here now. You have one minute. If you aren't out of this room in one minute, I'll throw you out that window. Don't think I can't. I'm so angry I could kill you. I hope you die a terrible death!"
He looked at her blankly. Throw him out the window? After all the things he'd done for her?
"And don't leave anything of yours behind. Do you hear me? Just get your things and get out now. There is a police detective here to talk to you."
He couldn't figure out what she was saying. His feelings were too hurt by the tone of her voice. He was just a sewer, but he had feelings. Get out! How could he get out? He had gowns to finish. He had things to do. People counted on him. No one could fit a gown the way he could; Tang said so herself.
"I have to fit Ching Ma Dong's gown. She's waiting for me."
"She is not waiting for you. The police are waiting for you. You don't belong here." Suddenly a funny look came over Tang's face and she slapped him hard.
Kim had seen Tang do that once before to a young saleswoman who'd made a mistake and given someone a fifty-percent discount on a dress that hadn't been on sale. The customer walked out with it, and later when Tang heard about the incident, she slapped the girl's face, then fired her on the spot. That's how he knew Tang really wanted him to go. His cheek stung with the insult. But his heart was where he really took the blow. He'd been so kind to her. He'd worked so hard and been so loyal, he didn't expect it.
"Meet the police outside the building. Do you hear me! And don't ever come anywhere near me again." She turned her back on him and walked out of the room.
He stood there alone in the workroom for a second, stunned and almost expecting Tang to come back and tell him she was sorry. Then he felt ashamed that Tang had treated him like a girl and trembled with the thought of telling Clio he'd lost his job.
Clio would just yell at him and tell him how much he owed her even though he'd paid for the wedding, the ring, and the party. And he'd made her dress. But she thought he owed her thousands and thousands more. It made him sick to think of her screeching at him now for losing his job.
Kim did not want to meet the detective outside the building. He wanted to run away. He took the elevator to the basement, thinking that maybe he shouldn't go back to Clio's house in Queens. He got off the elevator and slipped up the back stairs to street level and exited the building from the back door. There, a narrow common area was shared by several buildings. He entered the building two doors down. It was a gallery with a back patio. The back door was open, and no one stopped him as he walked through. On Madison Avenue the sun was shining. He put on his sunglasses and quickly looked both ways. He froze, terrified for a second. A limo with a driver leaning against it. The driver was watching the shop door. April Woo, the cop he'd seen several times before, was talking with Ching, Tang's friend. The policewoman was pointing at a man standing on the roof of the building. Kim turned quickly and walked the other way.
Fifty-five
April, I am not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on." Ching had planted herself on the curb by the car. Ever since she was a little girl she got upset when plans were changed.
"Okay, see that guy on the roof?" April pointed up.
"Uh-huh. So?"
"He's a cop. Just get out of the way. We're going to take someone in for questioning."
"Really?" Ching's eyes opened wide. Now she was going to see April be a cop. Her face told April this was something new and excidng. "Somebody from here?" she asked.
"Yes, and it's going to take a while. So you might as well head back to your office."
"Hey, why is Kim running down there?" Ching pointed at a man sprinting around the corner.
April spun around. "Where?"
"He was there a minute ago. I'm sure it was Kim."
"Looked like a girl to me," Detecdve Fray said.
"Go after him," April told him angrily. "I'll check inside." Shit! She didn't like losing both the suspect and face in front of Ching.
Fray took off at a run, and April radioed Grant on the roof to come down and
go through the building with her. "I thought I told you to watch the back," she accused Grant, who was hanging over the roof, gawking.
His voice crackled back. "I'm on my way."
April's face burned. Shit. "Don't say anything," she warned Ching. "Just don't say a word."
Ching raised her hands. She wasn't going to say anything.
Face still burning, April disappeared into the building and went through all six floors thoroughly She didn't come out for a long time. When she did, Ching was still waiting there, leaning against the Ford with her face soaking up the sun.
"Hi," she said. "Any luck?"
April shook her head, disgusted with herself. She'd been too busy trying to be polite to Tang, trying to be a big shot to Ching. And couldn't even hang on to her witness. Stupid. This was what happened when friends were involved. Shit. "There's a back way. He must have used it."
"I don't think Kim is a killer," Ching said, as if she thought April's whole operation was nuts.
"Asking people what they know is not assuming they're killers." Shit, her sister-cousin thought she was an asshole. And maybe she was. She stopped to call in a BOLO from the radio in the car. Be-on-the-lookout-for. She gave a description of Kim: Asian male, five-one. Wearing a white shirt and black trousers.
"Sorry, Ching. You can go now."
"Thanks for everything," Ching said dryly.
Preoccupied, April and her two detectives got in their cruiser and drove around for an hour, looking for Kim in the hope that he was still in the area. When they didn't find him, they figured he'd gone down into the subway. And for all they knew, by now he could be anywhere.
Mike caught up with April at one o'clock on Madison and Fifty-ninth. She left the two detectives in their Ford, and got into Mike's Crown Vic. He handed over a wedding photo of Kim and Clio, and April studied it, cursing in Chinese because she didn't want to let her mood out in English.
The Silent Bride Page 25