Murder Lo Mein

by Vivien Chien

  “I warned the OCA Cleveland chapter that they shouldn’t trust the contest in the hands of Asia Village. Disaster was sure to strike.”

  The Organization of Chinese Americans was a nonprofit organization that supported advancements and well-being in the Asian community, and the Cleveland chapter was helping fund the noodle contest as a way to promote local Asian businesses.

  I stifled a groan. “I’m not interested in having this conversation with you right now, Jackie. I’m here to see your father … is he here or not?”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Yeah, he’s here.”

  “Can I talk to him then?” I could hear the exasperation in my voice. It was too early in the day to be this agitated. “I have places to be.”

  She stared at me, challenging my patience.

  I stared back, unwilling to give in. Did she think I was going to leave? I was here on official business and she was trying to play high school games.

  With a stomp of her foot, she conceded and headed to the back of the restaurant.

  I studied their dining room while I waited. Their setup was decent and resembled a modernized version of 1920s Asian décor. Lattice woodwork bordered the room, and matching partitions separated some of the booths, creating intimate seating arrangements. All of the tables were covered with ivory cloth and came complete with bamboo-shoot centerpieces in ornate oval vases. Calculating the cost of their design setup made my head spin.

  Walter Shen came out of the back room, but Jackie didn’t follow. I wondered if he’d asked her to stay behind while he talked to me.

  “Miss Lee, what a pleasant surprise,” he replied in a cordial tone.

  “Hello, Mr. Shen,” I said, trying to remove some of the tension from my voice that his daughter had caused. “Sorry to interrupt your morning, but Ian wanted me to drop off this packet for the contest.”

  He took the packet from my hands and reviewed it, nodding with approval. “This is satisfactory.”

  “I’m glad you think so,” I replied. “Frederick Yuan will be taking over Norman Pan’s judging duties and there was a little upset over this news. I wasn’t sure how the other contestants would feel about this.”

  He cocked his head at me. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, Ian announced the news during our board meeting last night, and some of the members were not very happy with the decision. But I guess Ian couldn’t get anyone else to accept the position.”

  He stared out into the street. “That is very interesting.”

  “I thought so too. Ian said they were uncomfortable with the circumstances surrounding the contest. I guess I can see their point.”

  With confidence, he said, “I believe the danger is over now. We have nothing further to worry about, I’m sure.”

  His answer caught me off guard. “You think so?” I mumbled.

  “Norman created a lot of problems for himself. I’m not surprised that this is the way his life ended.”

  Walter’s response caused an involuntary shiver. Not knowing how to reply, I decided to go along with it. “Well … he did have a reputation.”

  “I tried to warn him. But Norman was a stubborn man, and he lived life by his own rules. You couldn’t tell that man anything.”

  “You warned him?”

  His eyes slid to meet mine, and there was a coldness in them that was so familiar. After a brief moment, I realized why. I’d seen that same chill in the eyes of Charles An … the man who’d murdered Thomas Feng.

  “Yes,” he replied. “I warned him one day someone was going to pay him back for all his wrongdoing.”

  Goose bumps traveled up and down my arms. “Oh … yeah?”

  “He laughed … he said karma doesn’t exist in this world.” His eyes slid away, his focus back on the street. “Guess he was wrong about that.”

  My breath caught in my throat and the possibility that I could be standing in front of Norman Pan’s killer became very real. “I better get going. I have to make a few stops before heading to the restaurant.” I waved the packets for emphasis.

  The expression on his face returned to normal. “Yes, of course, sorry to hold you up with my ramblings.”

  “Not a problem.” I backed away slowly toward the door.

  “Please tell your parents, I send my best.”

  “I’ll do that,” I said, and exited the restaurant in haste. I ran back to my car with the hairs on my neck standing straight up.

  CHAPTER

  10

  In the short time it took to make my way over to the Flats, I managed to compose myself from the uncomfortable encounter with Mr. Shen. Relief set in as I reminded myself that after this stop, I could return to the safety of the plaza.

  I’d like to think of myself as an Asian restaurant connoisseur, so I was disappointed to admit that since Stanley Gao opened Wok and Roll two years ago, I had never been in to sample the food.

  The outside boasted a neon sign shaped like a wok and a guitar crisscrossed over it with noodles for guitar strings. It was clever and I had to give him points for that.

  The hours of operation were posted on the door, and informed me that they wouldn’t be open until noon. Thankfully, I could see Stanley roaming around in the back, probably prepping for the day ahead.

  I knocked on the glass, startling him. He acknowledged me and came to greet me at the door.

  The inside walls were covered with metal sheeting and gave the place a grunge rock ambiance. The dining tables and chairs were also made of metal, and the only thing that appeared not to be was the floor, which resembled the inside of someone’s garage.

  “Miss Lee.” Stanley held the door open for me. He was a tall and skinny man that I hated to refer to as lanky, but no other word came to mind as I walked past him into the restaurant. “You’re not someone I expect to see so early in the morning.”

  I waved the packet in my hand and gave him the lowdown just like I had with Walter. And just like Walter, he flipped through the packet, skimming over the details.

  “Cool, cool,” he said while nodding and reviewing the last page. “I’ll be there, chef hat and all.”

  “Glad to hear it. Ian seems pretty confident about continuing with the contest, but I wasn’t sure how everyone else would feel about it after what happened.”

  “I wouldn’t worry your pretty little head about it.” He closed the packet and winked. “As they say, the show must go on. And if anyone knows that better than anyone, it’s Ian Sung.”

  “You’re not the least bit concerned even though they haven’t caught who’s responsible?” I couldn’t hide the surprise in my voice. Was nobody worried but me?

  He snorted. “I think we know that Norman Pan had it coming. Don’t you agree?”

  The shrillness in my tone shocked me. “Just because he’s a jerk, it doesn’t mean someone should have killed him. He’s somebody’s … brother.” I said that last bit without confidence as I really had no idea. But it sounded good.

  He held up his hands in defense. “Whoa, Lana. All I’m saying is that this happened to him for a reason. It wasn’t luck of the draw, you know?”

  I took a deep breath. Clearly I was on edge. “So who do you think could have been responsible for doing something like that then?”

  Stanley shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. But I truly don’t believe the contest is the cause of what happened. No … it was definitely the man himself.”

  He did have a point there. Norman’s behavior caused him to have a long list of enemies. But an important question remained … what was the reason?

  * * *

  As I made my way back to the plaza, I thought about the conversations I’d had with Walter and Stanley, wondering what my encounter with Penny would be like. She’d been acting so strangely since the night of the murder, I didn’t know what to expect at this point.

  On the drive over, something that I’d said to Stanley kept replaying in my mind. Norman was somebody’s brother. Was he? Now that he was gone, wh
o was missing him? From the little that I knew about him besides his being a food critic, nothing led me to believe he was married. But did he have a girlfriend? Brothers or sisters? I made a mental note to find out.

  Penny was behind the bar jotting down notes on a pad of paper. The lounge was empty except for a man in a suit sitting by a window with a martini and a laptop. At least someone else was coming to the Bamboo Lounge besides me.

  “Hey, Penny.” I attempted the most cheerful voice I could conjure.

  It was returned with a weak smile. “Hi, Lana.” She noticed the packet in my hands and pointed to it with her pen. “What’s that?”

  I extended the packet to her. “This is from Ian. It’s the new conditions and changes regarding the contest.”

  “He doesn’t want to call it quits, does he?” She took the packet from my hand and flipped through the pages.

  “No, you know Ian,” I replied. I hopped up on the stool and leaned forward. “Do you want to call it quits?”

  Penny sighed and closed the packet. “It’s not that I want to quit … I can’t quit. How would that look to everyone?”

  “I think people would understand…” My eyes traveled back to the closed door of the party room.

  “Is anybody else quitting?” she asked.

  “Well … no…”

  “Then neither will I.” She eyed me as if she expected me to challenge her. “I’m not going to be the one that can’t take the heat, Lana.”

  “Of course, I wasn’t suggesting—”

  She huffed. “It’s fine. I should probably go check on my customer … seeing as he’s the only one I have.”

  “Yeah, I should get to work myself.” I slid off the stool and was about to remind her that she could talk to me any time she needed to, but she’d already walked away.

  * * *

  When I got to Ho-Lee Noodle House, Stella was waiting for me at a booth. There were a few bowls scattered around her table and she was flipping through a magazine while she ate.

  “She’s been here for over an hour,” Nancy whispered to me. “She said it was very important that she talk to you and she did not trust me to leave a message.” There was a touch of bitterness in her voice and it made me chuckle. Nancy was so used to being liked and trusted by almost everybody. It was hard for her when someone didn’t.

  “I’ll go talk to her.” I stuffed my purse under the hostess station. “Would you mind bringing me a cup of tea?”

  I made my way over to the table. Stella was oblivious to my presence as she was immersed in the magazine in front of her. I cleared my throat to get her attention.

  Her head popped up and it took her a couple seconds to register who I was. When it dawned on her, she shook her head and laughed. “Ugh, my head is not on straight. Lana, thanks for meeting with me.”

  “If I’d known you were here I wouldn’t have kept you waiting so long.”

  Nancy came by with my tea, and I thanked her before sitting down.

  Stella shoved the plates aside, clearing the space between us. “You have fabulous food, by the way. Peter is a genius in the kitchen. If he wasn’t so loyal, I’d try to steal him for Chicago … he’d be amazing.”

  I laughed. “Yes, please don’t. We really need him here.”

  “Don’t worry, on second thought, I wouldn’t want him to outshine me. With my luck, I’d be out of a job.”

  “So what brings you by?” I asked. “I’m sure that Ian informed you about the contest changes?”

  “Yes … I mean no…”

  I cocked my head at her. “Okay?”

  “I know about the contest changes, but that’s not why I’m here. I actually came to ask you something on a more personal level.”

  “Oh?”

  “You’re dating that detective guy, right? Trudeau or something like that?”

  I was hesitant to answer. Why would she want to know about that?

  Without me confirming that I was, she continued. “If I were to talk to him about something … legal … would he tell anybody? I mean, would he tell anybody that it was me who talked with him?”

  “No, they keep things confidential all the time.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what they say, but I don’t really trust cops very much. No offense or anything.”

  “None taken, but can I ask what you want to talk to him about? Maybe if I know more details, I could help you decide if it’s something to take to him.”

  She squirmed a little in her seat and considered what I was asking. If she was anything like me, she was probably also deciding whether or not I could be trusted.

  After a few brief moments of mulling it over, she sighed and began digging in her purse. She pulled out a tiny piece of paper and slid it across the table. “After we left the party that night, I found a fortune cookie stuffed in my purse. I don’t know where it came from, but when I opened it, this was inside. I almost didn’t open it at all. Normally I don’t eat fortune cookies, but there was nothing to eat in my hotel room, and I was craving something sweet.”

  I picked up the paper and read the fortune. It read: If your enemy is superior, evade him.

  Suddenly, I remembered the fortune that Norman Pan had shown Ian after the first round of the contest. In all the chaos, I’d completely forgotten about it. I began to wonder if Ian mentioned anything to Adam or if he’d forgotten about it too.

  “Do you mind if I look up something really quick?” I asked. I didn’t want her to think I was messing around with my cell phone while she was trying to tell me something important.

  “Sure … why?”

  “Norman Pan received an odd fortune similar to this on the day of the first round … it totally slipped my mind. I want to see if something checks out with it.” I grabbed my phone out of my jacket pocket and typed in the quote written on the fortune paper. I wasn’t entirely familiar with Sun Tzu, but if I was right, this was a quote from The Art of War too. After skimming over the search that popped up, I saw that my assumption was correct.

  Stella took a deep breath. “What did Norman’s say?”

  I racked my brain trying to remember the verse that had been printed on the tiny slip of paper. “Something along the lines of seeking allies or becoming weak without them as a result … it’s hard for me to remember the exact wording, but it definitely wasn’t your average fortune.”

  She contemplated this, drumming her fingers rapidly on the table. “It could fit with my theory, but I’m not positive. I guess you can spin things however you want them if you’re speculating. Then everything makes sense, right?”

  “Yeah, I suppose it does.”

  “Let’s say I overheard something that might be helpful to the investigation. I could tell your boyfriend and he wouldn’t rat me out to the person … even if they don’t end up being guilty of the crime?”

  I nodded, handing the slip of paper back to her. “You should absolutely give this to Adam and tell him what you told me. You don’t want to end up like Norman.”

  “But if I show him the fortune, he’ll have to bring that up to the person, right? Then they’ll know it was me who tattled on them. If Norman and I are the only ones to have received one, who else would it be?”

  I hadn’t thought about that part. If Stella told Adam about the fortune, then he would have to put those into evidence, and show them to the suspect in question. Then whoever it was would know that Stella had accused them of the crime. “Who are you afraid of and what did you hear exactly?” I asked. “Who is this enemy that you’re supposed to evade?”

  She sat back in her seat. “I’d rather not say.”

  We were silent for a few minutes while she considered her situation. I didn’t want to press her, but I did want to know what she thought she knew. It might help weed out some of the potential suspects I had in mind.

  Her eyes scanned the restaurant, and when she was satisfied that no one was listening, she leaned in and whispered, “But I will tell you that Norman was involved in something il
legal … I think. At least that’s the gist I got from what I overheard.”

  “Did you hear this conversation at the party?” I asked, trying to remember if I’d seen or heard anything suspicious without realizing it.

  “No … before that … it was before the contest started that day.”

  “And was that same person at the party? Or do you remember seeing them talking to Norman at all that night?”

  “I’m not sure…” She bit her lip. “The person was there, but I don’t know if they were talking with Norman at the party or not. I don’t even know if what I heard was anything … it sure seems like something now that Norman’s dead.”

  Her responses sounded wishy-washy to me, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I thought about bringing up the fact that I remembered her talking to him at the party shortly before he ended up dead, but I didn’t want her to totally clam up on me. Right now she seemed to believe I was on her side and I needed to keep it that way.

  The more I thought about it, I wondered, what if she was playing me? If she was that worried about her safety then why not go straight to Adam with what she knew? She said she didn’t trust the police, but did she really want to take her chances with whoever she thought might have slipped her the fortune cookie?

  Furthermore, why come to me with this information? Unless, of course, she was trying to create a backstory that would take away suspicion that she could be guilty of the murder herself. For all I knew she was here trying to convince me that someone else was involved … this supposed unnamed person’s identity she wasn’t willing to divulge. That could be because there wasn’t an unnamed person to identify. Could she have been the one who gave Norman the fortune cookie and then pretended that she’d also received one? It was a possibility I needed to take into account.

  She fumbled through her purse and pulled out her cell phone, checking the time. “I better get going; I have an appointment in about a half hour. Would you mind getting my check for me?”

  I obliged, and went to get her check from Nancy. We wrapped up her bill and she told me she would be in touch with Adam later that day.