Leaving the Fifth Precinct’s wheezy air-conditioning for the muggy air of Elizabeth Street, I called Bill. I got his voice mail, which told me nothing. I already knew enough nothing. I left a message to call me and headed to my office, to try to think.
If Alice was chasing Wong Pan for a whole other reason than what she’d told Joel and me, it set a lot of things in a new light. Maybe the pay-phone call to the Waldorf meant Wong Pan had changed his mind about running out on her. Alone in the big city, he’d called to make up. Maybe I kept getting fired because they were once again thick as, well, thieves, and my searching for him was now a liability. And maybe Joel had been somehow onto Wong Pan. If so, maybe he’d also been onto Alice.
And in that case maybe Alice knew something about Joel’s death she wasn’t saying.
But the question still was, if Joel had found anything definitively dirty, why didn’t he say that, instead of “fishy”? The impression I’d gotten was that something unexplained was bothering him. Not good, but nothing worse than that.
When the light changed and trapped me on the corner, I thumbed David Rosenberg’s number into my phone. Before the light changed back, I’d asked him about Alice Fairchild. “How sure are we that she’s what she says she is?”
“What do you mean?”
“A lawyer who specializes in Holocaust assets.”
“As far as I know. The magazine follows recovery cases from time to time, and we wrote up one of hers a few years ago. I found her impressive. Straightforward and well prepared.”
“Did she win?”
“I believe that one’s still in litigation. You know these cases are hard to win.”
“That’s what Joel told me. Mr. Rosenberg, what if I made the same request of you that she did? Can you put me in touch with a private investigator? In Zurich?”
“What is it you need?”
“Any information at all about her.”
“Is there a problem?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve just learned she may have supplied a Chinese national with false travel documents.”
“Really? Alice Fairchild?” A moment’s thoughtful silence. “Could that be what Joel knew?”
“I don’t know. Can you find me an investigator?”
“Well, the system in Switzerland works differently than here. I’m not sure how to connect you. But, you know, I publish a magazine, with some very good investigative journalists on staff. Would you like me to have some research done for you?”
“I don’t want to get you involved.”
“This is still that same case, right? Joel’s case?”
“Yes.”
“Then, Ms. Chin, I’d very much like to help.”
I opened the street door I shared with Golden Adventure Travel, thinking, Okay, I have investigative journalists in Zurich digging for me, how can I lose?
Then I walked down the hallway, unlocked my own office, and saw how.
Drawers open, books off shelves, papers everywhere. My office looked as though the Duke of Hell had had a fit in it.
Just the way Joel’s had.
At first I froze, my pounding heart the only thing moving; then fury boiled me into action. Who the hell did whoever this was think he was? I drew my gun and slipped inside, back to the wall. If they were still here, they could only be under the desk or in the bathroom. Unless it really was the Duke of Hell. He’s invisible. Yeah, well, I’ll plug him right between the glowing red eyes. I kept up a silent monologue until I’d covered the entire space, which didn’t take long. The breach in my security turned out to be the bathroom window, whose bars were no match for the Duke of Hell and his crowbar. I holstered my gun and called Bill. I told his voice mail about the break-in. “Watch your back and call me.”
Then I called Mary. “I’m never coming up to your place anymore. It’s too dangerous.”
“What are you talking about?”
“While I was there, someone was here.” I described the ruins I stood in the middle of.
“Are you all right?” Mary demanded.
“Of course I’m all right! They’re long gone! But,” I added grudgingly, “thanks for asking.”
“You shouldn’t have gone in alone. You should have called.”
“And died from adrenaline poisoning waiting for you?”
“I’ll send some uniforms right away.”
“Oh, now you’re hanging with the international set and you’re a big shot? Come yourself, show your Shanghai buddy a genuine American burglary.”
“We’re in the car on our way to Midtown. I’ll turn around if you want.”
“Oh. No, forget it. Let Wei bite Mulgrew’s head off. That might make me feel better.”
“Any chance it was Wong Pan?”
“Mary, girlfriend, how would I know?” Though the thought had occurred to me, and the face I’d imagined on the Duke of Hell had been suspiciously round.
I hung up and went across the hall.
“Hi, Lydia.” Ava Louie looked up from her computer with a cheerful smile. Andi Gee, on the phone, waved at me.
“You guys hear anything in my office today?”
“Like what?”
“An earthquake, explosions, a dance party? No, someone broke in.”
Ava jumped up, and I had to take her to see the damage. We were joined a moment later by Andi, who gave a little shriek.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, because they were staring at me. “I wasn’t here.” This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. The other time had involved the travel ladies having to liberate me from a certain amount of rope. The last thing I needed was for them to decide I was a risky subtenant and evict me. “Either of you guys see or hear anything?”
They shook their heads. “We had busy afternoon,” Andi said. “Lots people. This very weird. After we so nervous. We perfectly fine, but your office, this happens.”
“Nervous about what?”
“Lots people, ask about flight, tour, cruise, everythings. Some maybe interested, but most, no. But sit, keep asking, talking. Actually, we worried, in case looking to see, should they rob us. But don’t dare throw them out.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Ava said. “White Eagles.”
I left the travel ladies in their own office and tiptoed around mine, looking to see what was missing while I waited for the precinct guys.
That White Eagles had spent the afternoon researching vacation packages was beyond suspicious. Chinatown gangsters aren’t Travel & Leisure types. A lot don’t even have passports: Some are illegals, some are still serving out parole time, and others haven’t used their real names in so long they don’t know them. Their only purpose could have been to distract Ava and Andi from whatever was happening in my office.
Which was what? Nobody breaks into a PI’s office looking for cash. Under all the paper, everything that could profitably be fenced was still here. The alley lightwell may not be Main Street, but it’s not risk-free. If I were a jewelry shop, the distraction tactic and the risk might be worth it, but to break into my office?
I examined the bent bars more closely. Not a large opening. I could barely have made it through myself. Anyone slight enough to use this gap probably wouldn’t have the strength to create it. So, a theory: Some muscle-bound rice-brain jimmies the bars; a ten-year-old apprentice gangster squeezes through and opens my door for some other rice-brains while yet another set distracts the ladies at Golden Adventure.
Why? What could make all that worthwhile?
Was it the same thing that had made tossing Joel’s office worthwhile?
And whether or not they’d found what they came for, why didn’t they steal anything else as long as they were here?
The arrival of two uniforms from the Fifth Precinct temporarily derailed my train of thought. They poked around, taking down information. “Kee told us to scare up the crime scene guys,” one of them said. “But I don’t know, a burglary? Even if it was White Eagles. And you don’t know that. And you didn’t lose nothin’…” He trailed off, caught between a detective’s order and the sure scorn of the overworked CSI techs.
“No, it’s okay,” I sighed. The chances of lifting prints weren’t great, and if there were any, that would just prove whoever left them had been here sometime. Since I hadn’t lost nothin’, what charges could I press even if I knew who to press them against?
Of course, maybe I had lost something but in this mess didn’t know what. I thanked the cops and was closing the door behind them when an icy thought hit.
If whoever did this hadn’t found what they were looking for, they might try looking somewhere else.
I yanked out my phone and hit speed dial. When my mother answered, I blurted, “Ma! Are you all right?”
“Ling Wan-ju? What do you mean, am I all right? Of course I am well, for an old woman. If you had not left so early this morning you would have seen how well I am.”
“Don’t open the door until I get there.”
“Who is coming here?”
“I don’t know.”
At a run, I charged up Canal, headed home.
“You think those gang boys will come here?” My mother stared in disbelief. I wasn’t sure if that was for the audacity of the gang boys or for my own absurd idea that anyone, even gang boys, would climb to a fourth-floor walk-up to tangle with my mother.
“Probably not, Ma. This is just to make sure. Ted and Ling-an say they’d love to have you come back for a few days. You’ll be safe out there.”
“If this apartment is not safe, why will you not let me put more locks on the door?”
“Five locks are plenty, Ma. But they crowbarred my bathroom window.”
“Our bathrooms have no windows.”
“There’s the kitchen fire escape.”
“The fire escape faces a busy street.”
“They might come at night.”
“Old Chow Lun would see them.”
“He might not be there.”
“Have you ever seen him when he is not there?”
How could I see him if he’s not there? I tried to calm down and discuss things rationally. But this was my mother. “It won’t be for long, Ma.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how do you know it will not be long?”
“Just until I find out what they wanted and whether they got it.”
“How will you do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“And what do you think it might have been, this thing they wanted?”
“I don’t know.”
“I see. You do not know who they are, what they wanted, whether they found it, or how to learn these things.”
“No. But-”
“But you know you want your mother to go back to Flushing, for a length of time you also do not know.”
“Ma! Ma, please! I just don’t want to have to worry about you.”
“Oh.” She peered at me. “This is not something you want me to do for myself? It is something you want me to do for you?”
“That’s not what I meant! I-”
The Bonanza theme cut me off, which was probably just as well. “Hi,” I said, watching my mother turn and walk out of the room. “Where have you been?”
“Legwork,” came Bill’s rational, though worried, voice. “You okay? Where are you?”
“I’m down the rabbit hole. Otherwise I’m fine.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m trying to talk my mother into going out to Queens for a few days. Those guys who broke into my office, I don’t know what they were after. In case they didn’t find it and think it might be here, I want her out.”
“But she won’t go?”
“What do you think?”
“Maybe you should tell her I agree with her. I don’t think she should go.”
“You don’t?”
“Sure I do. I’m using reverse psychology.”
“Forget it. We tried that when we were kids. There’s no kind of psychology that works on my mother.”
“Tell me about the break-in.”
I did, leaving out the Duke of Hell.
“The White Eagles?” Bill asked. “How do you suppose they’re involved?”
“I don’t know. They run protection rackets on some of the jewelers, but that doesn’t get me very far.”
“Like your pal Mr. Chen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could they have thought you had the Shanghai Moon?”
“And just dropped it in my in-box? Even White Eagles can’t be that dumb. Well, they could, but I don’t think so. If I could get over there and go through the mess, I might figure it out, but I don’t want to leave my mother alone if-” I stopped in midsentence.
“Lydia? You still there? What’s up?”
“I have to go. I’ll call you back.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s fine. But I’ll call you back.”
I lowered the phone and gaped. My mother stood before me, traveling hat on, suitcase in hand.