Frankie dropped me off in front of my apartment and left without ever coming to a complete stop.
I was six steps away from my building entrance when my ear caught the sound of car-door locks firing. I turned and stood my ground. Now what?
A rear door of a parked car opened and a fatigued Peggy Lee swayed out.
“Where have you been? Nancy didn’t know where you were and I’ve tried calling you for hours!” When she got close enough she slapped my shoulder hard.
“Ow!” I cried out. “I had my phone off because I was having a secret meeting.”
Peggy stuck her face into mine. She was reviving herself more by the second and now anger enlarged all her skin pores. “You promised to help me!” she said. “You have to be ready at all times!”
I held up my hands. “I am helping you. In fact, I just learned from this guy—”
She shoved her phone into my chest. I scrambled to catch it. The display was opened to an email with a video attached and ready to play.
“Peggy, I need some headphones.”
“There’s no sound,” she said. “Just play it.”
I hit the button.
It started with a familiar scene, the two men in dog cages. The camera wobbled and then a thin stream, probably urine, looped out and spilled through the bars onto both men. The cages rattled as the men thrashed.
The video was eight seconds long. There was no text in the video but the subject line of the email was 24 hours left.
“Disturbing,” I told Peggy as she snatched the phone back.
“That’s all you can say? Did you know that my dad’s a neat freak? He never even changed any of his kids’ diapers. Left it all up to Mom and the nannies. I can’t imagine how he feels being pissed on.”
“Peggy, as I was trying to tell you, I met up tonight with someone who tells me the kidnapping is all about personal humiliation, not money. This is someone with a, uh, master’s degree in criminality. The chip design itself might just be a distraction. They’re going through lengths to make his ordeal a public display and probably want to torture him for as long as possible. Who knows. The chip design might not even exist, and Ah-tien might just be bullshitting.”
She crossed her arms.
Kung stepped out of the car and slammed the door. “Hey, Jing-nan, where can I get something to eat around here?” she called.
I pointed over Peggy’s shoulder. “There’s a Family Mart two blocks that way, to the left.”
“Thanks!” Kung stretched her back before walking away.
“Kung!” yelled Peggy.
“Yes?”
“Get me a beef bowl and heat it up in the microwave for a minute or two. I’ll pay you back and I’ll even give you a tip if you’re quick enough.”
Peggy didn’t seem to take notice of the murderous look on Kung’s face before the woman tore away. Peggy absently patted her stomach.
“Kung is probably going to spit in your food,” I said.
“She wouldn’t dare,” said Peggy as she rocked back on her heels. “Where was I? Ah, yes, the chip design. I know for a fact it does exist and it could work.”
I hooked my thumbs into my pants pockets. “How do you know for sure, Peggy?”
“I remember seeing them, Jing-nan. I was there at the meeting when my dad brought in an engineering buddy to look over Ah-tien’s plans in his office to see if they were legit. My dad’s friend tried to be very low-key about it, with Ah-tien looking as eager as a realtor to close his first sale. My dad’s buddy kept saying to himself, ‘Now, I’m not so sure, but, yes, maybe . . .’ After Ah-tien left, the engineering guy really flipped out and told my father that the chip was a slam dunk and could be worth billions of dollars, not millions.”
“Why didn’t your father go into business with Ah-tien?”
Peggy played with the cuffs of her sleeves. “He’s risk-averse. In general, he doesn’t like investing in tech. He likes to invest in things he can see and touch. Intellectual property that can be licensed doesn’t excite him.
“Despite that, he did go to China to meet with the Taiwanese companies that had chip-fabrication plants there. They all told him they couldn’t produce such a chip yet. They wanted something that was a half-step up instead of a giant leap.”
“Your father made a copy of the chip architecture?”
“Not a good one. A sort of blurry one lifted from the security camera in his office. It’s useless but it’s handy for demonstration purposes. Anyway, my father went back to Ah-tien to ask for something that was dumbed-down and the guy stopped talking to him.”
I squared my feet with my shoulders. “Maybe your father’s engineering friend, the guy who checked out the design, is the one who’s behind the kidnapping.”
“I had thought about it, but he’s dead,” said Peggy. “He’s been dead a year now.”
“Dead? How did he die?”
“Heart attack. He was obese and he smoked. You can only take that act so far.”
“How about this, then. Think about people your grandfather or great-grandfather might have pissed off.”
“The only viable enemies that I know of are other mainlander families and even those rivalries are on hold because we’re all in business together.”
“Do you want to ask your father’s father who could have pulled this off?”
“I can’t ask him anything because he doesn’t know what the fuck is going on anymore. And my grandmother won’t talk to me.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s an asshole.”
“What about the previous generation on your mom’s side?”
Peggy shook her head. “No way. This is something on my father’s side. My mother’s family was working class until she became famous.”
“What about people who work in your family’s business? Maybe there’s some mainlander executive who’s been there for thirty years and never got what he thought he had coming to him.”
“They’re not all mainlanders, and anyway, they’re one hundred percent loyal.” She twisted her mouth and said thoughtfully, “The only company officers who are disgruntled at all are my three brothers.”
I took a step back. Of course! A member of the family could be more resentful against the Lees than any outsider.
Out of Peggy’s brothers, all of them older, two were on the flashy side, but only Da-ming, the oldest, was tabloid-worthy. His name literally meant “Big Bright.” “Tommy,” as he was known, had first made headlines by gathering his high-school pals for after-school sessions at love hotels with prostitutes. He was never charged by the vice cops but one of the most-viewed videos of all time is of him sitting in the back of a car, his schoolboy face unblinking in the face of camera flashes as his father picked him up at the police station yet again. Now Tommy ran two penthouse-floor nightclubs.
Peggy’s youngest brother, Xiao-dong, or “Shawn,” had a business in China that imported luxury cars from Germany. He spent more time there than in Taiwan, and his two American-born kids were attending a private school in New England.
The middle brother, Er-ming, was the quiet one, relatively. He was a pediatrician, I think. Some kind of doctor. He had such a low profile he didn’t even have an English name. Er-ming was best-known for being seen with famous actresses, although he always called them “friends.”
“Peggy,” I asked. “Do you think Tommy had something to do with this?”
A pensive look came over Peggy’s face as she cracked her knuckles. “Naw. He couldn’t. None of them could. If they had that much drive, they’d already be heading their own divisions of the Lee family business. Their alibis checked out, too. In any case, they all hate me more than my father.”
“How could anybody hate you?”
She smiled. “I outmaneuvered them all even though I was the youngest and a girl. They’re all vice presidents but I’m an executive VP.”
I nodded. That would really only matter in terms of succession, but if it really came down to it, the board of directors would likely appoint one of the sons as Tong-tong’s successor because that’s the kind of men they were.
“Well, you showed ‘em,” I said. Her brothers faded as potential suspects as quickly as they had presented themselves. The disappointment hit me like a sugar crash. “Say, Peggy, it’s getting late. I should probably hit the sack. I don’t think it will do much good, but maybe you should get your lawyer to go visit Ah-tien in jail. Maybe a carrot or a stick from a professional will loosen him up.”
Peggy examined her knuckles. “I agree that it would be useless for you to go see Ah-tien again, especially since we aren’t anywhere near getting him a new trial. But sending our lawyer there could make the news. You know, tabloids pay sources at prisons and hospitals to tip ’em off about famous people. Anyway, for that prisoner to tie his own fate to my father’s is insulting, I’ve decided. It’s pathetic. His wife isn’t even clamoring for a retrial and he wants us to?”
“Did you find that friend of his, Liu Ju-lan, yet?”
“She left the chip industry more than a year ago and kind of dropped out of society.”
“Ju-lan has copies of emails that supposedly can prove Ah-tien innocent.”
Peggy shrugged. “I’m not sure she’s that important. Anyway, we already have the best corporate lawyers looking at his case. If anybody can find something before the kidnappers’ deadline, they can.”
I still couldn’t get that piss video out of my mind. Could anybody?
“What do you think is going to happen tomorrow night?” I asked.
“The cops think that the fact that they sent me this video and not a finger in a box means they’re not serious about hurting my father.”
“What do you think yourself?”
She sighed. It was a rare showing of uncertainty from Peggy. “I don’t know. I just hope that somehow this is one big stupid joke.”
I heard something rattle. It was Kung bearing a plastic bag of groceries with her left hand while her right hand held the hot entrees in plastic netting. The cop smiled slightly but it didn’t dilute the overall defeat in her face. All the initial resentment and anger Kung had when Peggy tasked her with delivering the food was gone. Peggy was right. Kung didn’t have it in her to fight back.
Nancy was asleep when I came in so I conducted my nighttime bathroom routine as quietly as possible. Calibrating the sink faucet to a minimal water flow reminded me of growing up in a house crowded with people on different sleeping schedules.
I crawled into bed and didn’t wake up until I heard Nancy’s toast spring. In that early morning fugue state of reacquainting myself with the world, an image came to me: a knife scraping a paste of jujubes across a piece of toast.
Damn, I’d forgotten about the last container of jujubes on the counter at Unknown Pleasures last night. I had to hope that Dwayne had stuck them in the fridge. I hate wasting food, mainly because that was lost money.
I was getting too caught up in the drama around Peggy’s father, but then again it was becoming a national obsession.
I came out to the living room. Nancy was sitting on the couch, her feet up on the coffee table on either side of her toast, which glistened with oily peanut butter. She raised her hands to me in disbelief.
“Can you believe this shit, Jing-nan?”
The news station was doing a story about a rumored video of the kidnapper smearing feces across the faces of Tong-tong and the other executive. I had arrived in time to catch the beginning of the animated rendering of the supposed act. A man joyously defecated on a silver platter and carried it out to the prisoners like a high-class waiter. The cartoon must have been fun to make. I hunched my shoulders.
“It wasn’t shit, Nancy.” I told her how my night had gone, my trip with Frankie’s pal and the piss video I had seen on Peggy’s phone.
“You should’ve forwarded the video to your email so you would have a copy, too!”
“I don’t want a copy of that! Besides, the cops are monitoring her phone—they would see me forwarding it. You know what this news report means, though? Someone in the police department is leaking information about the case.”
Nancy reached out for her toast, but instead of picking it up, she turned the plate fifteen minutes counterclockwise. “That forty-eight-hour deadline ends tonight,” she said. “Do you think one of them will end up shot?”
“I hope not. I actually asked Peggy if she wanted to send a lawyer to visit Ah-tien again, but she figured it would be useless. Her people don’t need to see him in person to figure out if they can get him a retrial, and if there’s no retrial, Ah-tien is not going to lift one finger to help Tong-tong.”
Nancy’s knees twitched. “I agree. Ah-tien doesn’t change his mind about anything. If he wants a new trial, he’s not going to hand over the chip design until he gets it.” The animated cartoon began to repeat once again and she hit the mute on the remote. “Have they found Liu Ju-lan yet?”
“No, they haven’t, but Peggy doesn’t think they need to find her to get a new trial.” Nancy sucked in her lips and looked up and to the right. “What are you thinking of?”
“Well, I told you before that I did meet Ah-tien’s friend Ju-lan. Years ago, of course. Ran into her once in a restaurant and once at a movie theater.” Nancy lifted her chin and rubbed her throat. “She knew Ah-tien was married. I think she even knew his wife. She was never mean to me, but she gave Ah-tien looks that could crush his soul. Ju-lan gave me some career advice. She said the corporate world wasn’t fair to women and that I would have a better career as a researcher rather than someone who tries to climb the corporate ladder.”
“The corporate world sucks for everybody, not just women,” I said as I reached for Nancy’s toast. She slapped my hand. “Ouch! Hey, if you’re not going to eat it . . .”
“I’ll eat it when I’m ready. Go make your own. Are you saying that it’s just as hard for men as it is for women to get ahead? Look at Unknown Pleasures. You only hire people with dicks.”
“That’s not true. I didn’t hire anybody. My grandfather brought in Frankie and my father gave Dwayne his job. I’m practically the intern there.”
“Still, you don’t have any women working there, Jing-nan.”
“I promise—the next person we hire will be a woman. It might even be you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not working for you. I would put on so much weight.”
“I manage to keep it off.”
“Yeah, because you’re so busy flirting with the tourists.”
“That’s just a guy who looks like me. The real me is trying to rescue Tong-tong.”
I was heading to the kitchen to make my own peanut butter toast when I heard Nancy call me. I thought she was going to offer me her toast after all. Instead she wanted me to get her a glass of guava juice, with ice.
When I got to Unknown Pleasures, Dwayne accosted me.
“Jing-nan, what’s going on with Tong-tong?”
“I don’t think they learned anything else.”
He folded his arms and leaned in to me. “I saw that news report with the shit-smearing.”
“You want to know the truth? The video they sent Peggy showed a guy pissing on them. There was no shit involved.”
Dwayne unconsciously tugged at the crotch in his jeans. “In a lot of ways, that’s even worse. Where’s Peggy?”
“At work, I guess.”
Dwayne grabbed my shoulder. “Don’t you think you should be with your friend? Just in case the worst happens?”
I coughed twice. “What? No, she’s with her family and the two cops are going to be with her.”
To drive his point home, he grabbed my other shoulder as well. “She’s not close with her family and the cops don’t really know her.”
“She’s not that close with me, either, and maybe I know her too well.”
Dwayne saved his trump card for last. “You might not think you’re close, but she considers you her closest friend. Think about it. She called you first when the kidnapping went down.”
That was true. She probably hadn’t called anyone else.
“Just go see her,” Dwayne urged. “Hang out with her a few hours. Make sure she’s all right.”
I checked my phone. “I guess I could head over to her office for a little bit. You know, Dwayne, I always thought you liked Peggy.”
He backed off and tilted his head. “What’s not to like, uh? You have to admit that while she is crazy, she is cute. Hey, don’t roll your eyes!”
I put my hands in my pockets. “I’m not going to be gone the whole night,” I warned him. I called out to Frankie. “Do you think it’s a good idea for me to see Peggy?”
“It’s not going to hurt for you to go.”
I turned to Dwayne. “You saved the jujubes, right?”
He gave me a sheepish look. “There were so few left last night, I just took ’em home.”
“Aw, shit.”
“There couldn’t have been more than a dozen. It wouldn’t have made sense to tell people we had jujube skewers, anyway. We would’ve just run out of them early and that would have pissed people off.”
“Well, I hope you enjoy eating them, Dwayne.”
“Honestly, they’re starting to go bad. Mushy spots and all. It’s going to be a struggle, but I’ll figure something out with them. Maybe I’ll make protein shakes.”
I paused for a second to consider what they should be blended with before Peggy resurfaced in my thoughts. If I was going to see her, I should go now. “I’ll call you if something goes horribly wrong,” I told Dwayne.
“Yeah, you do that.”
I left and walked quickly to the MRT. Damn, it was almost rush hour. Thank god I didn’t have to make any transfers.
I slowed as I drew closer to the train station. Maybe it would make more sense for Peggy to come to Unknown Pleasures with Huang and Kung. After all, the first thing people do when they get together is eat. It might as well be my food.
I turned around and started walking back. I called Peggy and asked her if she wanted to hang out and eat at Unknown Pleasures with the cops. She jumped at the invitation. Maybe I really was her best friend.
As I approached Unknown Pleasures, I saw Dwayne standing on a ladder. Ma de! Had one of those stupid ceiling bulbs burned out again?
When I got closer, the lighting seemed fine. In fact, Dwayne wasn’t even near any lights and he seemed to be placing a camera behind an idol on our altar.
He saw me, hopped off the ladder and gave me the biggest smile he could muster. I saw the little boy in him.
“What the fuck are you doing, Dwayne?” I asked.
The smile faltered. “Nothing.”
“It looks like you’re installing a camera at my stand. Actually, it looks like you’re hiding a camera.”
Dwayne shoved the camera in his jeans pocket and crept down the ladder. “Damn you, Cat, you were supposed to tell me if you saw Jing-nan!”
Frankie pointed at me. “Hey, I see him.”
Dwayne stood in front of me and bowed his head until we were the same height.
“Dwayne,” I said, “what’s the deal with the camera?”
“Well, you know, I got friends who work security. They’ve been telling me to get cameras in here for our own protection for quite a while. People know that you’re Peggy’s friend . . .”
“Best friend,” I said.
“Well, yeah, best friend, so there might be some unwanted spillover from the kidnapping. What if someone abducted you?”
“Don’t worry about me, man.”
Dwayne raised his head. “What if someone abducted Nancy?”
I took in a deep breath. “Why would they do that?”
“Who knows? There are crazy people out there.”
“Okay, there are crazy people out there, but why didn’t you just ask me instead of going behind my back?”
“Well, Frankie was okay with it.”
Frankie didn’t even look up from his work. “I’m not involved.”
“Frankie,” I said, “is this a good idea?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I’m for it, and you’re right, Dwayne. I mean, I’ve been shot at before, so this isn’t a bad idea.”
Dwayne brimmed with vindication and scrambled back up the ladder.
“Do we have to put up a sign telling people they’re on camera?” I asked.
“Nah,” said Frankie.
“Maybe any footage we get isn’t legally admissible, but we’re not going to need the law in order to get justice,” Dwayne called down.
“So we go after people with baseball bats?” I asked.
“There are three of us,” Dwayne reasoned. “And we’ve got knives.”
The camera recorded to a wireless hard drive hidden in an empty box of aluminum foil. Dwayne had borrowed the ladder from Uncle Bing at Beefy King so I brought it back.
“Jing-nan,” said Uncle Bing. “What are we going to do about tonight?” He gave me a knowing look.
“Same as we always do at the night market—sell as much food as we can.”
“I mean, the thing.” He formed a handgun’s barrel and hammer with his right index finger and thumb. “Do you think I should turn on the television for that? Or maybe I should have it off?”
“Uncle Bing, I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
He seemed disappointed. “Why are you saying this?”
“I think there’s reason to believe that this is more a process of giving Tong-tong hell than actually killing him.”
His eyes narrowed as he swept out his tablet from behind the cash register and placed it in my hands. “So this is bullshit, Jing-nan?”
The tablet was opened to a streaming site. An animated GIF scrolled three images—a picture of Tong-tong, the other kidnapped executive and a gun—with a text message: One will die tonight: Streaming at 8pm.
My fingers tightened against the frame.
There was sure to be a commotion in the night market over this and Peggy was going to be here in the middle of it all.
Uncle Bing gingerly took the tablet and stashed it behind the register. “I guess you didn’t know about that, Jing-nan. It looked pretty real to me, too. Two hours from now, huh? I guess it could still be a prank, but do you think I should turn to the channel? I should probably charge a minimum to everybody who gathers around the TV, right?”
I was still stunned. “I don’t know, Uncle Bing,” I said absently.
“I admire your prowess as a businessman, Jing-nan. You really turned around your business. Help me out here!”
“Just follow your heart,” I muttered and walked away.
“What kind of advice is that?” I heard him say.
I called Peggy but she wasn’t answering. No sense in leaving a voicemail. I tried to send her a text: On second thought how about I go to where you are?
But the text wouldn’t go through. You suck, MobileTone!
I was bagging up chicken gizzards for a sullen teenaged boy when Peggy, Huang and Kung showed up about fifteen minutes later. I came from behind the counter and shoved the bag at the boy.
“Hey, kid. Just take ’em.” He broke into a smile and made his getaway. “Peggy, I tried calling you.”
She punched my arm. “My battery died after I talked to you. You must be the grim reaper.”
I tried to laugh it off.
Huang looked worn out. He stood there, rubbing his big nose like a molt was coming on. It must have been exhausting being with Peggy around the clock.
Kung looked worse. She had dark circles under her eyes and her body language said she couldn’t pull the plow anymore. Peggy must have the worst slumber parties.
“I’m glad you’re here, officers. Please sit down. I want to talk to my good friend here. Dwayne, how about you get these two nice officers a plate of skewers?”
Dwayne bowed. “Yes, my Han Chinese master!”
I grunted and threw an imaginary dagger at him. “Peggy, I think the kidnappers are going to stream a shooting tonight.”
She squared her stance. “I know. I saw the GIF. Isn’t that why you called me?”
“No. I found out later. If I knew about it, I wouldn’t want you here, basically surrounded by a gaggle of people watching it. Some of these losers might even film you.”
Peggy flared her nostrils. “I don’t fucking care. I’m already living my life in public, thanks to the kidnapping.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s not like I’m going to be sobbing. No matter what happens.”
At seven o’clock, there was a noticeable slowdown in people going by. There weren’t fewer people—they were just moving slower because their eyeballs were pressed against their phones. I went back and forth between drumming up business and telling Peggy stories about food. For example, armies were responsible for many of China’s traditional foods. Skewers were originally cuts of meat cooked on swords after a battle.
At 7:30, word seemed to get around that Beefy King would show the stream across all three of its widescreen monitors. Viewers were expected to make a minimum purchase of an entree and drink in order to hold a spot.
At 7:45, Uncle Bing came to Unknown Pleasures to personally ask Peggy if she and the officers wanted to watch the stream on his monitors. He reasoned that the cops could get a better look at the environs on his big screens. Maybe they could find clues.
Kung put a hand on Peggy’s shoulder. “We don’t want to put you on public display. It could invite a copycat.”
I think it was Kung’s patronizing touch rather than what she said that compelled Peggy to tell Uncle Bing yes.
Uncle Bing had roped off a small area in the front for us. Dwayne came along since business was probably going to be dead, anyway.
Peggy scoffed at the barrier posts and unhooked the retractable belts. “We don’t need this,” she said.
A Beefy King flunky moved the posts aside. Huang reached across my chest to touch Dwayne’s arm. “Hey, tough guy. I need you to stand behind Peggy. And you, Jing-nan, stay on her left side.”
I moved without questioning my orders. Dwayne puffed out his chest and pointed at his own nose. “I have a name, you know?”
“Everyone does,” said Huang as he plugged in an earpiece. Dwayne grumbled as he moved into position. I looked around for Kung and saw her standing in the back, just outside the periphery of the crowd and also wearing an earpiece.
I looked up at the three monitors. They were all pointed at the streaming account, which displayed a large number 10. I looked over the crowd. There were probably three hundred people here. I doubted if all of them could see the monitors clearly. I looked at Peggy. My old classmate stood somberly, arms at her sides.
“Peggy, maybe we should get out of here.”
She shrugged. “And go where? I’d only be thinking about this.” Peggy looked at me sideways. “It’s not like I’m going to be the center of attention. Nobody’s going to be looking at me.”
I turned around and found that assessment true. Everybody’s eyes were up. I noticed that Kung was now standing on top of an overturned bucket to get a better view of the crowd.
People suddenly let out a collective gasp. I turned around and saw that the “10” had become a “9”. The countdown was on. At “5,” Peggy grabbed my hand and held on. I closed my fingers around hers to reassure her.
She had nice hands.
At “1,” Dwayne clamped a hand on my left shoulder.
There was no “0” count. The monitor displays flipped to the dog cages in triplicate. The kidnappers had set up rudimentary lights so that the shiny fear in the gagged faces of Tong-tong and the executive came through. Beefy King’s PA system amplified the sounds of fingernails scraping metal cage bars as the men wallowed.
The kidnapper didn’t make any speech before the gun came into view, clutched in his right hand.
“Which one will it be, huh?” the off-camera voice asked casually as the thumb caressed the side of the gun.
He began to sing “Two Tigers,” a nursery song in Mandarin set to the tune of “Frere Jacques,” and playfully swung the barrel of the gun from one cage to the other with each beat.
Two tigers
Two tigers
Run so fast
Run so fast
One of them has no eyes
One of them has no tail
Very strange
Very strange
The song ended with the gun pointed at Tong-tong.
“Let’s give it one more beat,” said the kidnapper. He turned to the executive’s cage, pushed the barrel of the gun through the bars and fired three times. The shots were so loud that each one caused the sound to cut out momentarily.
People in the crowd cried out. Peggy’s hand was hot and sticky like melted cake icing. Dwayne dug his fingernails lightly into my skin.
The echoes of the shell casings bouncing on the floor died away. Agonized moans came from Tong-tong. The gunman’s free hand, which was gloved, stroked the cage bars.
“Oh what’s wrong there, little tiger? Don’t worry. Now you get to have twice as much food!”
The impact of the shots had carried the executive to the back of the cage. Only his bare feet were visible.
The kidnapper retreated and the camera view wiggled slightly before shutting off. All three monitors went black.
I pulled Peggy to me and I hugged her. I never thought she could feel so soft.
Ten tactless seconds later, the monitors switched to Beefy King menus. Callous to his core, Uncle Bing called out to the crowd, which had been stunned to silence.
“Well, the show’s over, but combos are ten percent off for the rest of the night!”