TWELVE

A month, perhaps more, passed before I realized I still had the key to apartment 3A. Maybe it was only an excuse to go to Chinatown. I’m not sure. Besides returning the key, I really had no other reason to go to that part of the city.

This time, my trip down the Saturn Street Steps was in the sunshine. Out in front of me was the blue sky. Absolutely clear. The jacaranda trees were in bloom with their royal-blue flowers. Below them, a bed of flowers also exploded with blue blossoms. What a wondrous day! I thought. It was summer now.

The narrow street where the Blue Dragon lived was lit by the noon sun too. And there was Ray Leu, standing outside saying goodbye to an elderly Chinese couple.

Ray shook his head in disbelief. He laughed.

“Mr. Chan. Mr. Private Detective. You did good job, eh?”

“I have that key,” I said, fishing it out of my pocket. “For 3A.”

Ray nodded. “The Wens. Gone now.”

“Really.”

He shook his head. “Much change. You know Mr. Emmerich is gone. Sandy Ferris is gone. Mr. Chinn’s boyfriend…pfft. All white people gone.” He laughed.

I didn’t know whether the white people being gone was bad or good, but apparently it was notable.

“Wens move to Russian Hill somewhere.”

“The sisters?”

“Here. So are Cheng Ye Zheng and his wife and the little boy.”

“Good,” I said. “So you have lots of apartments to rent?”

“Yes, you want one?”

For a moment I tried to imagine myself living in Chinatown.

“That would be an adventure,” I said.

“Cheng Ye ask about you. You should go see him. He like you very much. He said you are ‘fine boy.’ ”

Ray patted me on the back.

Once out in the narrow street, I turned back. Mrs. Zheng was with the child. She looked down at him, saying something I couldn’t hear as they walked hand in hand.

I felt warm and sad.