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Ben, Lana, and Curt sat together at an outdoor restaurant in the French Concession. The three typically ate brunch together on Sundays at popular Shanghai venues catering to expats.
Lana sipped her orange juice as a young Chinese waiter stopped by and said, “Ma’am, please be careful of your bag. There are many thieves in Shanghai.”
She sighed, smiled warmly at the server, and pulled her satchel closer. “Everyone in Shanghai is so charming.”
“Lana, you’re such a flirt,” Curt complained while shoveling potatoes into his mouth.
“What are you talking about?” Lana asked innocently.
“You don’t think I see you batting your eyes at strangers?” Curt asked.
“I’m just being friendly,” Lana protested.
Ben was quiet while observing the banter that was routine between Curt and Lana.
“Do you know why young men are so friendly with you?”
“Because Lana is so attractive?” Ben suggested.
“No, it’s because she looks rich. It’s that simple. So Lana, don’t let it go to your head.”
“You’re one to talk,” his wife responded.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Curt demanded, while looking up from his iPad.
“Nothing, but just remember — I like my men tender and sweet. You’re over forty, so I could trade you in for a younger model.”
“Ha, ha, not funny. You’re too old for coquetry,” Curt said snidely.
“I’m not old!”
“You’re not that young,” Curt teased.
“Projection,” Lana hissed.
Attempting to change the subject, Ben intervened and asked, “Lana, did you watch Mad Max?”
“I can’t stand romantic films,” Lana insisted while rolling her eyes.
“Mad Max is not a romantic movie,” Ben replied.
“It is for Lana,” Curt joked.
“I don’t understand,” Ben said.
“I’ve always had a fondness for the genuinely macabre,” Lana explained.
“Like what?” Ben asked with feigned interest.
“Real life. Can I tell you about a haunting legal case?” Lana asked. Her spirits brightened at the prospect of telling a story. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes widened.
Curt groaned. “No one wants to talk about legal cases.”
“I do,” Ben replied.
“Thank you, Ben. Curt, do you remember the first criminal law case we ever read?”
“Do I look like a nerd?”
“As a matter of fact —”
“What was this case, Lana?” Ben asked.
“The Queen vs. Dudley, Stephens.” It’s a 19th century case about four men who wound up on a dingy off the African coast. They had only a can of turnips, but no water. After a few days, they caught a turtle and ate it raw.”
“Yuck,” Curt complained as he tossed his toast aside.
“Turtle is a delicacy in China,” Ben shared.
“The men had to drink their pee,” Lana continued.
“Lana, could you stop it! I’m trying to eat breakfast. This discussion is not very ladylike.”
Lana ignored Curt. “They were starving and couldn’t capture rain in their coats. So after several days, they were desperate.”
“Please hurry up!” Curt demanded while looking at his watch.
“The three older men killed and ate the sick 17-year-old cabin boy.”
“Yep, perfectly legal, it’s called the law of necessity,” Curt asserted.
“The English courts didn’t think so,” Lana countered. “How did you perform so well in law school? Did you actually read any cases?”
“I’m very logical. I don’t project my feelings into things,” Curt retorted. “Anyway, that kid was going to die eventually.”
“Then they should have waited,” Lana insisted.
“What happened?” Ben asked.
“A few days later, a ship picked up the three survivors. The men had the flesh and blood of the cabin boy under their fingernails.”
“It’s necessary to get rid of dead weight,” Curt remarked.
“Then when will you fire Conrad?” Lana asked.
“How did you hear about Conrad?” Ben interjected.
“C’mon Ben, where do you think?”
“Your girlfriends?” Ben asked.
Lana nodded. “Gretchen and Shelley told me all about Conrad and his teenage girlfriend.”
“Your friends should mind their own business,” Curt suggested.
“How? Conrad is so indiscreet,” Lana responded.
“So what?”
“Liability issues for your company,” she asserted.
“Nah, not really, it’s a private matter,” Curt said smugly.
Ben agreed, “Curt’s right. Conrad is a valuable chemist.”
Lana exclaimed, “Conrad kicked his wife, Kitty, out of their apartment and his lover moved in.”
“Quite unfortunate,” Ben said.
Lana continued, “When Kitty attempted to re-enter, she assaulted the girlfriend, so Conrad called the police on his wife.”
“None of your business!” Curt repeated.
“Except ... we’re in China,” Lana countered. “Your company had to put up his work permit, which was a long and expensive process. The Chinese government could fine you or worse.”
“Lana has a point,” Ben admitted. “Where is Conrad’s wife?”
“Gretchen’s place. She’s broke because Conrad won’t give her any money,” Lana replied.
“Conrad thinks he’s in love and has never felt this way before,” Curt rationalized.
Eric had popped up earlier and surreptitiously slid into a chair next to Lana. Familiar with the story, he said wryly, “Nah, Conrad isn’t in love. He’s just another old geezer in Shanghai, fucking a teenager. It’s disgusting.”