A Cold Copper Moon (The Cooper Series Book 3)

by Richard Conrath

  Then, “Mr. Cooper, please sit down,” said the man at the table, a thin man, pointing with a very thin hand toward a chair. He didn’t invite Richie to sit.

  And so I sat, the silk lanterns flickering, creating an interesting pattern of light and darkness, so that the faces of those seated fell in and out of shadow. It was hard to tell how old he was, except that his hair was silver, combed straight back from an unlined face.

  “I understand from Mr. Wong that you have come to talk with me.” No pleasantries, no bows, no change in his expression. Straight out. I heard a bus pull away from the sidewalk outside the restaurant.

  “And you are…?” I said into the silence.

  “He is Mr. Li Lung,” said one of the men behind me. I bowed. And so did Mr. Li Lung.

  Several delicate, gold embossed teacups and a matching teapot, embellished with green leaves, sat on the table between us. Mister Lung poured for both of us. He studied me for a moment, then…

  “Mr. Wong is a very good friend, otherwise we would not be sitting here. He tells me you are concerned about an attack on you and your friends and are wondering if I might help.”

  I bowed again.

  “Let me just say that I know nothing about those events.” He focused on my eyes.

  I told him about the intruder in my house, about the pictures of the Zhi Zhu Nu in Jack’s office, about the attack on our boat when we approached the Zhi Zhu Nu, and finally about the origami that was left on my nightstand.

  “All that is very interesting,” he said. “But what is that to us, Mr. Cooper?”

  “My question to you, sir, is this,” I said, pressing on. “Is there, as far as you know, any connection between the Tong and the Zhi Zhu Nu?”

  There was some commotion at the door as one of the lions who stood guard there, came into the restaurant and whispered something to Mr. Lung. He turned to me.

  “He says that there is a woman standing across the street watching our place. Do you know her?”

  That would be Louise. She obviously decided to make herself visible—in case we had to shoot our way out.

  I smiled and nodded. “She is a friend. She’s waiting for us.”

  Mr. Lung smiled. “You are in no danger, Mr. Cooper.”

  Richie grunted behind me. Everybody turned to him.

  “The Tong...” continued Li Lung, ignoring Richie, “Tong means Hall. They run our communities. They run our buses. They organize our meetings. They make sure we are financially secure. You make a mistake to think they are a gang. Or that they might be the cause of any trouble you and your people have had.”

  I reached for my briefcase…and everyone in the room suddenly stirred. I stopped, held up my hands and explained what I was going to do. Li Lung nodded. I opened the briefcase and pulled out the origami that had been left in my bedroom.

  Everyone relaxed as Li Lung examined the piece of art. Black as onyx, formed as a concave structure and moving downwards with the sides shaped delicately as though by a fanatic of detail, each part of the bloom poignantly puffed and rising to a rounded point. I could feel the gasps rising from those around me.

  “Quite amazing,” Li Lung said admiringly, nodding as he turned the creation over several times, studying it like a gemologist would examine a rare stone. After several minutes of silence, he handed the lotus back to me carefully, as though he were transmitting a religious relic.

  “The Black Lotus Tong does not exist,” he said, no emotion in his voice. Just like that.

  “Then why this?” I pressed, nodding at the gift I had received on my bedside table. “Perhaps someone is trying to say they do.” And Li Lung studied me briefly, then nodded.

  I was staring at the woman in the shadows. About five feet four, black hair, sharp but delicate features. She was beautiful by any standard.

  “This is my daughter, Li Lang Zhu, Mr. Cooper,” and he smiled as he turned and bowed toward her. “Her name means Tarantula,” he continued. “And, therefore, I am Lang Zhu de fuqin, the father of Tarantula. No?” He was still smiling.

  The Kiss of the Spider Woman, I thought. “She looks so much like the hostess,” I remarked.

  “Liu Xue. She is also my daughter,” he said. “They are twins, can you not tell?” he said, still smiling. I didn’t ask the meaning of her name.

  And then a deep silence fell over the room. Nor did anyone move to disturb the silence. He didn’t say our meeting was over but one would have to be an Emily Post class dropout not to get the idea. Whatever else there was to learn would have to keep for another day.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The Caller

  Sunday Afternoon, December 4

  I heard my phone ring as we left the restaurant and searched my jacket for the cell. I looked at the number—Jillie.

  “Hi Coop. Busy?”

  I told her where we were. She was quiet for a moment thinking, I’m sure, of asking why in Boston, but she didn’t. So, I waited. She hesitated.

  “Had a call last night.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Uh-huh. Remember the guy I was seeing at Georgetown before we got together?”

  Oh boy. Did I remember. “Uh-huh,” I said, kicking myself for not saying more.

  “He was in Columbus for the weekend and asked me out to dinner…” I was just about to ask her when she told me, “tonight.” Was she asking my permission? I was surprised at my reaction. Caught me off guard. Louise looked over at me. A question on her face. Was I that obvious? Richie was walking ahead, like a point guard.

  “I told him, okay,” Jillie said. That hesitation again like I was supposed to say something about it, make a comment, like say no, ask why? get upset, say we should get back together again. I didn’t. All I said was okay and hated myself for not saying more. I never liked him. I liked him even less now. He was a pompous ass. Studying psychiatry. I remember a comment he made to me once—about my degree—PhD—nodding his head. “We all need philosophers, don’t we?” Smart ass. But I got the girl. At least until now.

  Jillie was quiet on the other end.

  “That’s great,” I said. Lying. Louise was still staring at me. I mouthed Jillie’s name. Louise nodded. Not happy.

  “Let me know how it goes,” I added, shrugging to Louise. She just turned and walked ahead.

  “I will,” she said. “I just…”

  “No problem,” I said. “I understand.” My nose should be getting longer. “Anyway, thanks for calling,” and I ended the call. Not wanting to dwell any longer.

  “So…” Louise started.

  “Yeah,” I said, “Jillie.”

  “What’s up?”

  I told her.

  “How does that make you feel?” I knew that was a leading question since it must have showed in my shoulders. It always does. When I’m upset, my shoulders fold over my body. I can feel them. I could feel it now.

  We walked in silence for a while. “I understand, Coop. We’re just feeling our way through this thing. You got Jillie you’ve got to work through; I’ve got my own problems.”

  I hadn’t heard that one before and looked over at her.

  She shook her head. “Later.”

  Chapter Thirty

  The Sister

  “Mr. Cooper.” A voice behind us. Richie slowed down and looked back—past us—at someone coming our way. “Mr. Cooper.” Again. Almost in a whisper. It was the hostess from the restaurant. In the deep purple dress. She was hurrying in high heels, having a hard time keeping her balance and looking back every few steps to see if anyone was behind her.

  “Quickly,” she said. “We must get off the street.” She pointed to a tea room a few signs down on our left. I motioned to Richie. He nodded, came back, waited, looking around as we passed him, and then followed us into the shop. Once we settled in a booth, she relaxed, still breathing hard from running. She reached for her ankles and massaged them.

  “That must hurt,” said Louise. “Why I gave them up a long time ago.”

 
Liu Xue looked at her. Puzzled.

  “High heels,” said Louise.

  “I am the hostess,” she explained, smiling, then quickly raised her hand to cover her mouth. Embarrassed.

  We waited, Richie on the inside of the booth next to her. Louise and I facing her.

  “Just take your time,” Louise said, pulling her cop face. “Would you like some tea? Coffee?”

  She shook her head, still breathing hard and looking from me to Louise. “I cannot stay here,” she said suddenly, looking around. “Too many eyes for my father.”

  I searched the room to see if anyone was watching. I couldn’t tell.

  “Is there somewhere else we can meet?” she said, anxious to leave.

  “Can you come to Copley Square?” I said.

  She thought for a moment. “Yes. The bus goes there. I come in the morning. Where will you be?” and she glanced at some young men who were staring at her from the checkers corner.

  “In the lobby of the Copley Square Hotel,” I said, following her eyes to the young men. “Are they a problem?”

  “I must go,” she replied, rising quickly, motioning for us to stay seated. We got up anyway, exchanging some brief, modest bows—I wouldn’t want to try to describe Richie’s. She pushed quickly through the doors and back onto Beach Street. I walked over to the window and watched her as she headed back into the heart of Chinatown and wondered if we would see her again.

  “She is beautiful,” said Richie. Louise nodded.

  “Like Jade Leung Chang,” I said, referring once again to the exotic actress from Hong Kong who starred in one of the worst films ever made, The Spider Woman. A terrible movie, but Jade Leung’s charisma and captivating beauty were all any of her fan-boys ever cared about—including me. Liu Xue didn’t have any of Spider Woman’s darkness. Her twin sister did though. Li Lang Zhu, the Tarantula, was the one I wondered about as I watched Liu Xue disappear into the distance and become part of a crowd of tourists who had just unloaded from a Chinatown bus. YOLBUS in big letters across the side, New York to Boston on the destination sign over the driver’s window. I heard that the Tong operated some of these buses. I wondered about this one. Liu Xue appeared on the other side of the crowd as it thinned out. The driver looked her way as he stepped down, watching as she hurried. Watching longer than he should have.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The New Boyfriend

  Sunday Evening, December 4

  We had dinner at Boston’s famous Durgin Park restaurant and got the normal verbal abuse that you could expect there. Richie gave it right back to our waitress, Kim. We all had the clam chowder (pronounced chowdah). Louise ordered a fish sandwich with fries—first time I had seen her do that. Richie and I had burgers—with fries too of course.

  Richie complained about his fries, “These ain’t done!”

  “No?” Kim said. “How would you like ’em?” And she gave him the gesture. Richie grunted and shook his head. He loved it.

  We were in bed as snow began to drift in over the Square. The temperature was dropping below 30. It was a good time for sleeping—and for other things. But Louise was already asleep. I woke several times thinking about Liu Xue, wondering what she was going to tell us, and yes, a little worried about how safe it was for her to meet us.

  It was just after 7:00 a.m. when I woke. Louise was already up and out. She always jogs in the morning.

  My cell rang. Jillie.

  “So, how was it?” I asked, not really wanting to know. I picked my jeans off the dresser and pulled them on, holding the cell to my ear with my shoulder. She hesitated. “You liked him,” I said.

  Silence. “Maybe.”

  “So, tell me about it,” I pushed on, wondering why I was doing that. See, the problem with Jillie and me was that we weren’t having any problems—that is until the morning Maxie disappeared.

  “He was very nice,” Jillie said carefully. “We just talked…that’s all…” and she let the silence hang for a while.

  “I don’t really want to talk about it,” I said, getting angry inside. “I didn’t like that guy then”—not wanting to say his name—“and I don’t like him now.” I was glad I said it.

  “Sorry, Coop. I just thought I should tell you…”

  “Because you were feeling guilty.”

  “I guess I still miss you,” she said, almost in a whisper.

  I didn’t say anything. Not in a good mood.

  “How’s your case coming?” she asked.

  “Slowly. We’re still in Boston. Chinatown.”

  “Why Chinatown?”

  “Somebody sacked my place and left a keepsake on my nightstand. An origami in the form of a lotus. A black lotus.”

  She gasped. “My God. Were you hurt?”

  “No. But if I’m not careful someone might get hurt.” She was quiet. “But not to worry, Richie is here with me.” I didn’t mention Louise and I have no idea why. Louise would not like that.

  “Is your cop friend with you?” she said, coyly, referring, of course, to Louise. I hesitated.

  “I mean Tony,” she said, rescuing me. Tony DeFelice was my partner when I worked homicide in Miami for six years. He also likes Jillie. A lot. I think he hopes, consciously or unconsciously, we’ll get back together again.

  “Gotta run,” I said quickly, as I heard Louise using the card to get back into our room.

  She gave me a funny look when she came through the door. Was I that obvious?

  “Jillie,” I confessed. “She has a new boyfriend.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Snow

  Monday Morning, December 5

  Richie, Louise and I were hanging out in the Copley bar waiting for Liu Xue when my cell went off. It was hard to hear what the caller was saying so I left the bar, Richie and Louise giving me the What’s up? look. It was no wonder I couldn’t hear, the voice was all whispers, like the wind trying to talk with me. But in a foreign language. I held the cell out in front of me to see who was calling. A Boston area code, but I didn’t recognize the number. I put the phone back against my ear and said, What? for the third or fourth time. I had already dropped, Excuse me? And then it struck me. The caller was clearly a woman. Small voice. Frightened. Chinese.

  Then I finally heard a weak, “Can we meet, Mr. Cooper?” It was hard to distinguish the voice from the wind that was hustling about me as I stood on the sidewalk, still wet from melting snow, outside the Copley.

  “Liu Xue?”

  “Yes,” she said, quietly, so quietly I had to strain to hear her.

  “Where are you?” I said.

  “I am near your hotel,” she said. “I take bus as I promised and no one following me…I think.” There was fear in the air between us.

  Not wanting to ask a young Chinese girl to come to my room, even if Louise was there, I suggested that we meet in the restaurant. I would find a quiet, dark corner. She said she would be there in a few minutes. I guessed she was calling from a building across the Square. I stayed outside the front doors of the hotel, the doorman asking if I needed help with a taxi. I waived him off and watched her cross, her shoulders hunched as if that would help conceal her, her eyes cast down to the street, looking up quickly now and then to make sure no cars were coming.

  “Mr. Cooper!” she said, as though surprised to see me. I was waiting for her on the sidewalk outside the heavy glass doors fronting the Copley.

  I nodded and took her arm, nodded to the doorman who held the doors for us, and headed for the Xhale—I assumed the name had something to do with Nathan Hale. The dining room was dark with chairs stained a glowing onyx. They were cushioned red and pushed up against round wooden tables that gleamed with glass tops. Padded benches, crimson, with a touch of purple bleeding through, were built into the walls on either side of the entrance. In a far corner a grand piano, its top catching and reflecting the sparse light cast by lamps that lined the walls on all sides, sat lonely, as though waiting for an audience. It was easy to get privacy. There w
as no one else in the restaurant.

  My cell went off.

  “Where are you?” Louise.

  I told her and explained why I disappeared.

  “No shit,” she said. “You could have at least come back in and told me.”

  “Then Richie would have wanted to come.” Liu Xue was watching me.

  “Richie is out somewhere,” she said.

  “Why don’t you join us in the restaurant. We’re in the Xhale.”

  Liu Xue and I settled into one of the tables along the wall, a soft amber light against her face. She sat still, almost frozen, while I tried to flag a server. Then I focused on her and stared for probably too long. I was wondering what her name meant.

  As if she could read my mind, she said, “My name, Xue, means snow. I am not like my twin sister. I am the soft one. I bring coolness to anger. It is my nature. And I see much anger and much danger here for you. I would like to help. And,” she added looking around nervously, “I think my father is involved in your project.”

  Louise appeared at the hostess stand and right behind her was Richie. Interestingly Snow smiled when she saw Richie. Must be that Teddy Bear look of his.

  Richie and Louise pulled out the remaining two chairs and looked expectantly at Snow and then over at me. I filled them in.