Mandarin Plaid by S J Rozan

Author:S J Rozan [Rozan, S J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

I called Bill from the phone outside the ladies’ room at Tai Hong Lau. All I got was his service. I didn’t leave a message; there wasn’t any point. I’d wanted to bring him up to date on Roland’s troubles before we met at Andrew’s, but it could wait. I grabbed a cab and headed for Chelsea.

I’d told Roland I’d do it. I’d gotten from him the phone number where they said they didn’t know Peng Hui Liang, the photograph he’d shown to his buddy at the INS, and instructions.

“Don’t let her know I’m looking for her, okay? It’ll only make it worse. I just want to know that she’s okay and she hasn’t done anything stupid.”

“What’s stupid?”

“Lydia, come on.”

“You mean you want to make sure she hasn’t had an abortion? Or you want to make sure she gets one?”

Roland didn’t answer that. He finished his fish, his watercress, his rice—I was already done—and waved the waiter over to take the plates. Then he poured out the rest of his beer and drank that. Leaning back in his chair, he lit a Marlboro and flipped the pack onto the table.

“You know, Lydia, I sort of admire your approach. I’m a pretty direct guy myself. Don’t care much what people think. If it’s what I mean, I say it. Same for you, huh?”

“Sort of.”

“Thing is, I’m not sure how far it’ll get you in your business. People who hire private eyes might want a little more discretion. I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong.” Cigarette dangling from his lip, he signaled the waiter with an American Express Gold Card. “You just find Hui Liang for me. Discreetly. Then we’ll talk.”

Now, in the cab on the way uptown, I was thinking about searching for people. What a strange relationship it put you in, this circling closer to someone who, in Peng Hui Liang’s case, didn’t want to be found; in Dawn Jing’s, didn’t know anyone was looking. It was like a split-screen movie image, where the actors on one side of the screen didn’t know about the actors on the other, where everyone just went about their business but the audience could see the connections and sense what was coming.

Of course, the metaphor wasn’t quite right, because I was both actor and audience, about to reach out from my side of the screen, about to step across to the other set of images.

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