I sink back against the couch cushions and pat the seat next to me. “Come here, Mimi,” I say.
She clambers up in that stiff-legged way dogs have.
If Marsh did do it, I could go to Sidney and suggest that rather than having his rent-a-goons kill him, Sidney use his money and influence to make sure Marsh gets arrested. That could work. It would get me out of trouble, right?
But what if Marsh didn’t do it? What if this has nothing to do with the Caos at all?
Then what could I do that might be productive but that probably wouldn’t get someone else killed or falsely thrown in prison?
Okay, I think. Okay. I gave cards to Gugu, and Meimei, and maybe Tiantian. Marsh. Celine and Betty.
There’s a dead girl.
So candidates for Dead Girl that I gave my card to would be Celine, Betty, and Meimei.
Therefore first order of business would be find out if any of them are dead.
I refill my little beer glass, kind of proud of myself for figuring this out so logically and all.
I lift up the glass. And it suddenly occurs to me I can’t do this right now. I need to stay frosty. I’ve got stuff to do.
I take one final sip of beer and put the glass on the coffee table.
Meimei first, because I don’t have to reach too far to come up with a reason to call her.
She picks up after about five rings. “Wei?”
“Cao Meimei, ni hao. Shi…”
“Of course I know you are Ellie McEnroe,” she says with a hint of amusement. “This is why I answered the call.”
That’s a good thing. I guess.
On the other hand, she’s a Cao, and who knows what she’s after?
Well, she’s not dead anyway.
“Did you enjoy the party?” she asks.
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”
She laughs. “Oh, I forgot. My brother’s wife was very rude to you. But you shouldn’t care too much. She is crazy.”
“Good to know,” I say.
“You are calling about our dinner?”
“Yes,” I say, relieved, thinking, Cool, I didn’t even have to bring it up. “Because I need to go out of town maybe, and I wanted to make sure that we scheduled something first.”
“I see.” A pause. “Let me talk to my brothers. I think we can arrange something soon. Then you can go out of town if you like.”
That went well. I think.
Next Celine.
Unlike Meimei, she doesn’t seem to recognize me. So I continue with the introduction: “I’m Ellie McEnroe. We met at Gugu’s party.”
“Ah!” I can picture her wide-eyed smile on the other end. “The family friend of the Caos.”
The way she says that, I’m pretty sure she’s mocking me. I want to tell her, Hey, so not my choice to be a Cao family friend. The Caos make me nervous. But I don’t say any of that.
“I wanted to talk to you about your website,” I say.
“My website? Oh, you like it?”
“I haven’t seen it yet. That’s why I’m calling. I have an artist who’s interested in… a collaborative project that involves, uh… the impact of social media on… discourse centered on female sexuality.” Whatever. “And I thought she’d be interested in your website. But I lost your card.”
“Oh.” A pause. “That first part, that was… yidianr buqingchu.” A little unclear. “You mean some kind of artwork?”
“Yeah, sure. Maybe. It’s more… research to… to inform the work.”
“Okay.” I’m guessing she’s still yidianr buqingchu about the whole thing. Which, given that I’m just spouting bullshit jargon I pulled off the top of my head from a bunch of different art magazines, is not too surprising. “So you want my website’s address?”
“Right.”
“Okay. I can text to you.” I can hear her long nails tapping on the screen of her phone. “Funny, though,” she adds.
“What?”
“You have my phone number. But you say you lost my card.”
Oh, well, shit. She’s not dumb. “Yeah. I put your number in my phone. I must have gotten interrupted, because I didn’t put in the address of the website, and now I don’t know what happened to the card.”
“Ah. I see.”
I’m not sure whether she buys this or not, but I don’t really care, because she’s not dead, and that’s all I need to know.
“Do you have Betty’s number?” I ask.
“Betty?” I don’t think I’m imagining the suspicion in that one word. Why would I want to call Betty? I don’t have a good explanation. But one thing I’ve figured out lately. Sometimes if you just act like you’re entitled to something, you’ll get it.
“Yeah. We talked about getting together for coffee. But I forgot to ask for her number.”
There’s a silence on the other end, and I can picture her again, maybe taking a moment to light one of those Panda cigarettes while she considers what to do.
“Sure. I can text to you.”
“Thanks. Looking forward to checking out your website.”
“I think maybe some topics I write about might interest you,” she says. “I hope you have a look.”
“I definitely will,” I say. “Thanks again.”
We disconnect.
I’m thinking about what I should say to Betty, if she isn’t dead, when the bamboo chime on my phone announces an incoming text.
From Celine. It says, LettersFromTheDeepYellowSea.com. Celine’s website.
Huh. Not a.cn address. I wonder if her site’s hosted outside of China? Makes sense if she’s posting anything even a little sensitive. I really should check it out.
While I’m looking at that, another text. A cell-phone number, with the name in caps: BETTY.
I’ve really got nothing to say to Betty. I barely said two words to her, and she didn’t seem to like me much. But does it even matter what I say? The only thing I care about is whether she’s alive or not.
So I touch the number on Celine’s text until the phone starts ringing.
“Wei?” Her voice sounds small. Shaky.
“Ni hao, shi Betty ma?”
“Ni shi shei?” Who are you? And I realize what that note in her voice is: fear. She’s scared.
“Duibuqi. Wo buxihuan mafan ni.” Sorry. I don’t want to bother you. “It’s Ellie. Ellie McEnroe. We met at Gugu’s party.”
If I thought this was going to calm her down, it pretty much does the opposite.
“Why are you calling me?” There’s a ragged edge to her voice now, like she’s barely holding it together.
I almost hang up, because I don’t know what to say. I should have thought of something. Should’ve planned it better. But I wasn’t expecting this.
“I… uh, sorry. Just, I… I’ll call you later. It’s not important.”
And then I do hang up.
So here’s what I know.
Meimei, Celine, Betty, not dead. Betty’s scared. If that really was Betty. I barely talked to her at Gugu’s party.
That’s about it.
I sip the very strong cup of coffee I made. Think it through, McEnroe. Think it through.
How does this help me?
It doesn’t, I conclude. Not really. None of the women I gave my card to who were at Tiantian’s party are dead, assuming I just talked to the real Betty. The dead woman could be someone else who was at that party-shit, maybe even Milk Lady-and I have no way of knowing. Or she could be someone who wasn’t at the party at all.
I already told Inspector Zou where I was last night. If I tell him more than that, like who I gave my cards to, there’s going to be Cao-related blowback. Count on it. Bad enough I had to tell him about Tiantian’s party.
Maybe once he finds out who he’s dealing with, he’ll lay off. You don’t want to go after people like the Caos. Not unless you’ve got your own powerful backers who want to see them brought low.