The First Excellence: Fa-Ling's Map (33 page)

“
Oh, yes. I remember. What can I do for you?”

“
I have been trying to reach your friend, the other Detective. We have a problem and I am hoping he can help us.”

“
You tried his cell and his home?”

“
Yes, but I was reluctant to leave a message.”

“
Very well. Tell me what the problem is and I will leave a message for him.”

“
Have you heard the news from Shanghai?”

“
I heard it this morning. Is it true there was a survivor?” Cheng asked.

“
We sent a visitor to find out.”

Cheng’s heart skipped a beat. “Not your granddaughter?”

“
We sent another young woman,” Long said, “and my granddaughter followed her this morning. We believe both girls are in danger.”

Cheng looked at his mother, who waited patiently at the kitchen table while he botched the fried eggs and bacon. She wore a bandage on her forehead above the left eye where a night stick had landed during a skirmish at the park.

“
I’ll try to locate my friend,” he said to Long. “If I reach him, then we will both visit you this afternoon. If not, then I will come alone. Either way, I will help.”

“
Thank you, Detective,” Long said.

“
Thanks are not necessary,” Cheng replied.

**

When the desk sergeant had called at 4:20 that morning, Cheng was already awake, sitting in the darkness watching the news on television and waiting for word regarding his mother. That’s how he’d learned about the discovery of the Tan family’s remains inside their Shanghai apartment.

When the sergeant told him his mother had been arrested, he drove to the station. He signed the necessary papers and led Ma-ma to the car without a word. She seemed to be oblivious to his worry. Still, he kept his criticisms to himself, cleaning her injury and sitting with her until the sun came up.

Something had to change, and soon.

Someone, Cheng thought, had to do something.

After breakfast, Fa-ling and Yong-qi joined the group in the hotel lobby where they waited for the bus to take them to the temple near Nanning.

“
Are you coming with us?” Cynthia asked.

“
Not today,” Fa-ling said. “Yong-qi has promised to show me around the city.”

“
Very well. We should be back here by 5:30. Remember, tomorrow we are flying to Beijing, so please prepare your things.”

“
Where’s Paula?” Eloise asked Guy Kader, who was carrying Mei Mei.

“
She has a headache,” Guy said.

“
She’s probably tired.”

“
Is everyone else here?” Cynthia asked. She counted heads, noting the Kitcheners, the Gollucks, the Harlans and Guy and Mei Mei Kader.

“
Where are Yvanna and Chris?” Eloise asked.

“
Here we are,” Chris said, jogging ahead of Yvanna who followed with Daniel.

“
OK. The bus is ready. Everyone please follow me.”

“
Have fun, folks,” Fa-ling said, waving at the couples.

“
What now?” Yong-qi said, moving closer to her.

“
Now, my friend, you show me the city, or at least the immediate neighbourhood.”

“
I was hoping you would play some music for me,” Yong-qi said.

“
Detective, were you listening outside of my door the other day?”

“
Only for a moment.”

“
At least you’re honest. I missed my exercise this morning. Let’s take a walk. Then, if you’re really in love with punishment, I’ll break out my clarinet.”

“
I promise to be completely enthralled,” he said.

“
First a walk,” she said. “I need gifts for my family before we leave Nanning tomorrow.”

“
Brothers? Sisters? Parents?”

“
Mom, Dad and one sister. She’s eighteen.”

Yong-qi paused. Fa-ling stopped and turned toward him.

“
What’s wrong?” she said.

What’s wrong?
he thought. Fa-ling had a sister who was only eighteen. How old was
she
, he wondered. Was she even old enough to know where he was trying to lead her?

He almost walked away from her. When she met his eyes, though, he knew she was old enough, and she wanted exactly what he wanted.

“
Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “Let’s go get those gifts.

“
Lead on, McDuff.”

They walked past the apothecaries and pastry shops. He took her hand, and she thrilled at his touch.

They took their time, having the whole day ahead of them. He led her up and down twisted avenues, in and out of every manner of local retail outlet.

“
Let’s try down this street,” Yong-qi said. They turned onto a dusty little avenue that hardly looked like a hot spot for tourists. The stores were more like garages, with some of the doors closed and others rolled up to expose their wares.

They entered a handful of stores, finding nothing of interest in the rows of t-shirts and colourful hats. On the far side of the street, Fa-ling saw a ramshackle structure that was noteworthy only because it had been painted a strange and beautiful shade of blue. Its front door was lifted to reveal shelves lined with tatty looking cardboard boxes, and there were ornaments of some kind lined up in rows on top of the boxes.

“
What kind of store is that?” Fa-ling asked.

“
Let’s have a look.”

They crossed the street. As they approached, Fa-ling’s eyes opened wide. She recognised the traditional hand-painted pottery, teacups and pots, from a collection her parents had brought home on their last visit to Nanning. Of course, the patterns and colours were not the same, but these were in a similar style, their dragons, pagodas and ancient beauties each telling a story of China’s mysterious past.

“
I have to get these,” Fa-ling said, “but how will I carry them home on the plane?”

“
I’m sure they will wrap them for you.”

Just then the storekeeper entered through a black rubber curtain at the back of the store, followed by a young woman who was probably her daughter.

“
How much are these?” Fa-ling asked in Cantonese. The woman looked at her as though she didn’t understand, perhaps having difficulty with her accent, but the girl answered at once, giving Fa-ling the price of each piece.

“
That’s too much,” Yong-qi said.

“
It’s ok,” Fa-ling insisted. “The price is all right. I need three sets. Please wrap them carefully. They have to survive the flight home.” Mentally she tried to draw an image of herself on the plane with an extra carry-on bag full of breakable items. She had kept her luggage deliberately light. She would be able to manage it — but just.

She studied the various colours and patterns, trying to remember the meaning of each symbol, dragons for strength, turtles for longevity, one ancient beauty for wisdom, one for loyalty, coins for wealth…

She finally chose a soft grey-green set with dragon-headed turtles for her best friend, a bright red with golden male and female lions for her parents, and a rich navy blue depicting the Emperor’s Daughter standing in front of a full silver moon for Daphne. The Emperor’s Daughter was one of China’s mythological ‘ancient beauties’, each of whom bore a tale that had been woven into the country’s history.

Fa-ling decided on the latter partly because, like the beloved but unlucky royal daughter who had been sold to the Khans in matrimony to protect her people, Fa-ling’s sister had a nature that was selfless and loyal. However, that wasn’t the only reason she was drawn to this particular image of the ancient beauty.

There was something in the tender line of that face she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and there was something so familiar about that moon…

The young woman pulled great wads of used paper from a box, wrapping each cup, saucer, lid and pot. Fa-ling was impressed by the efficiency of the shop girl, who double-checked each piece for cracks or chips before dusting it and packing it away.

Their transaction complete, Fa-ling thanked the elder woman and her daughter. She and Yong-qi left the store, wandering into the next shop to look at spices and herbs.

“
I have everything I need,” Fa-ling said, “if you’d like to head back to the hotel now.”

Yong-qi nodded. He would like that very much.

As they passed the pottery store one more time, Fa-ling looked again at the stunning pieces. She was about to turn away when the rubber flap at the back of the store opened. Fa-ling stopped in her tracks, her jaw falling in surprise.

There, in the store they had just left, stood Paula Kader. A young man came through the curtain behind her. She turned to him, communicating in what appeared to be a combination of poor Cantonese and hand gestures. The man was vaguely familiar, but then, Fa-ling thought wryly,
they all do look alike
. Before she could place where she had seen him, he disappeared once more through the flap.

Not wanting to get caught up in a conversation with Paula, Fa-ling tugged on Yong-qi’s hand.

“
Come on,” she said. “My clarinet is waiting.”

Cheng put the phone down. He was unable to reach Wang. He’d made travel arrangements to Shanghai for both of them. He would have to hope Wang got the message in time to meet him at the airport. Master Long was in need of help.

“
Ma-ma,” he said, “I will be away until at least tomorrow, maybe longer. You have to promise me… please stay in the apartment until I get back.”

“
So now I am a prisoner?” the old woman said. She pretended to sulk, but Cheng knew she was pleased with his concern. “Very well,” she promised, “I will stay right here until my son comes home to free me.”

“
And please, keep the meditation music on low volume.”

“
When it’s too low I can’t hear it.”

“
I’ve set it to a reasonable level,” Cheng insisted. “Just leave it where I put it.”

“
May I have a bath, or might that disturb the Water Company?”

They both laughed, and he kissed her on the forehead, near her bandage.

“
I cannot lose you,” he said.

“
Nevertheless, you will lose me one day, Minsheng. Each day I pray you will find a wife, to make your burden more bearable.”

“
So do I, Ma-ma. So do I.”

**

Fa-ling kicked off her shoes, preferring to keep time in bare feet. She sat on the chair near the dressing table, her knees less than two feet from Yong-qi’s where he was perched on the end of the bed.

“
It may be loud,” she said, lifting her instrument. “You should probably sit a little further from me.”

“
Probably,” he nodded, staying where he was. Yong-qi was no fool. He had the best seat in the house, and he had no intention of giving it up. He could smell her perfume, could sense the flow of air around her when she moved, and could almost feel the heat rising from her body.

For these blessings Yong-qi would happily risk an earache.

She launched immediately into
Fly Me To The Moon
, which was not one of his favourite jazz numbers, but true to his word, he was enthralled anyway. By the time she slid into the flowing melody of a Celtic piece she appeared to have forgotten Yong-qi was there. She sat facing him, her back to the sheet music spread open on the table more out of habit than because she needed to read it. Her eyes were closed, her body at one with the instrument. With each rise and fall of the melody, her foot moved gently against the carpet.

Just when Yong-qi had almost given up hope, thinking he had lost her to the music, the song ended. Fa-ling opened her eyes, laid the clarinet on the table, and reached for his hands.

He was almost afraid to touch her, so great was the current of energy between them. They stood inches apart, her hands not quite resting on his and making only the slightest contact. Unable to resist, she moved her face against his chest and inhaled, drawing his essence into her body. She was surprised at how good he smelled, clean and masculine, with a hint of cologne.

He struggled against his urgency, wanting to draw out his desire. After all, this would probably be their first and last time together.

When she turned her face upward and pressed her mouth against his he lost all resolve. His hands took over, pulling at her clothes and at his own.

He had an instant of doubt, when his conscience whispered maybe this was wrong, maybe she was too young…

“
Are you sure about this?” he whispered.

“
Uh huh,” she said, kissing him again.

That’s good enough for me,
he thought, almost tearing his t-shirt in his hurry to remove it.

When he finally had her naked she turned from him. He was afraid she had changed her mind, until he saw she was now facing the dressing table and the mirror…

He studied her like that for a moment, from both angles at once. Was so much beauty even possible? He knew it wasn’t just physical appearance, although Fa-ling was one of the most attractive women he had ever met. Yong-qi realised what drew him most irresistibly was her mind, an undercurrent of intelligence, a sorrow that never really left her eyes even when she was smiling, the goodness that reached out from her
chi…