by Alexa Kang
All this nonsense was enough to drive Eden mad. Aside from the articles she’d written herself for the China Press, only the Shanghai Jewish Chronicle tried to present Lillian as who she really was, with accounts from her parents and people who’d really known her.
Eden pulled the paper out of the typewriter and crunched it into a ball. She threw it at the rubbish bin and missed. The ball of paper fell onto the floor.
Nothing she’d written sounded right. Her mind was going blank.
“You need to take a break.” Dottie, the secretary, picked up the ball of paper Eden threw and dropped it into the bin. “You’ve been sitting there for hours. It’s seven o’clock. Go home. Come back and start over tomorrow.”
“It’s seven o’clock?” Eden checked her watch. She was supposed to meet Miriam, Yuri, and Igor for dinner at seven. “I’m late.” She grabbed her purse from her drawer. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dottie,” she said and hurried out the door.
“See you tomorrow. Get some rest.”
At dinner, the conversation still revolved around Lillian’s murder. A heavy mood enveloped all of them, still mourning the death of their friend.
“How are Mr. and Mrs. Berman holding up?” Yuri asked.
“They’re inconsolable,” Eden said. “It doesn’t help either when all the police authorities are still stalling and trying to push the case to someone else. I told Mr. and Mrs. Berman I’ll keep writing articles to shame the police until they do something. They thanked me, but I don’t know if what I’m doing will amount to anything. And the newspapers! Ugh. I hope they aren’t reading them, although I can’t imagine that they aren’t. It’s so upsetting. So many things being said about Lillian are plain lies.”
“The worst thing is, you just don’t know what to believe.” Miriam put down her fork, leaving her dinner of gnocchi half eaten. “All my parents’ friends are telling their daughters to stay away from Chinese people they don’t know. They’re really worried they might be killed for their organs.”
“But what if it’s true?” Igor asked. “The Chinese do use animal organs as health supplements. I went to see a traditional Chinese medicine doctor once. He told me bear bile extract from their gallbladders can improve overall health. He’s got all sorts of other exotic stuff on his medicine shelf too, like—”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” Miriam scowled. “Anyhow, that’s not at all the same as killing a live person for her organs. I’ve lived here all my life. I’ve never heard of any Chinese using human organs that way.”
A waiter came and took away their dishes. Eden thanked him and he left to get the dessert menus. “There’s someone who might know what happened to her. The night she was murdered, Lillian had dinner with a man named Roland Vaughn. She told me when we were celebrating her birthday at Cafe Louis.”
“Roland Vaughn?” Miriam asked. “Isn’t he the dentist from Manchester?”
“Yes. He was the last one who saw her that night. I don’t know why he hasn’t come forward to try to help.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to be wrapped up in a scandal? Lillian was raped.”
“Or maybe he’s a suspect.”
“No,” Miriam said in disbelief. “A reputable dentist well-known by the community? I can’t imagine it.”
Eden shrugged. The fact that Vaughn had stayed silent since the murder happened already made him a rotter in her mind. An honorable man would’ve tried to help, not hide.
“If you want to know what I think,” Yuri said, holding up his glass of gin, “I wouldn’t be surprised if some crazy Nazi killed her.”
They all stopped and looked at him.
“Why would you say that?” Eden asked.
“Think about it.” He swirled the glass in his hand. “If it was a simple rape or robbery, the murderer could’ve stabbed or shot her. Maybe he’d strangled her. That would’ve made sense. Instead, she was cut open. Mutilated. How much do you have to hate someone to do that to a person? Or, you have to not even see that person as human. You cut her open like an animal, a sub-human.” He blinked and put down his glass. “A Nazi would think that way about a Jew. Don’t you think?”
Eden shuddered at the thought. Could Yuri be right? If so, the problem could be much bigger than Lillian’s murder. If the Nazis in Shanghai were out harming Jews, the community needed to know. She’d learned by now that Jews, being stateless here, were always in a vulnerable position when it came to crimes. Whether it was the SMP, the Chinese Public Security Bureau, or the French Garde Municipale, no one would look out for their rights. If the Nazis could murder Jews and get away with it, then something needed to be done for their own protection.
It would not do to wait for the SMP or the French police to get around to conducting an investigation. She would have to take matters into her own hands. Dig deeper and find out what happened to Lillian that led to her death.
27
Suspect
In the office of Dr. Roland Vaughn, Eden sat in the reception area, waiting for the assistant to call her name. When she called to make an appointment, she didn’t specify that she wasn’t coming for a dental check-up or treatment. Vaughn might have agreed to talk to her anyhow if she’d identified herself as a reporter, but one never knew how people would react to being questioned. She figured that this way, she would leave no chance for the dentist to refuse to speak to her.
The dentist’s office was clean, organized, and professional. Immaculate. Vaughn’s credentials and degrees, along with memberships in esteemed associations and honors and awards, were proudly displayed on the walls. There was even a framed photo of him with Harry Arnold, Chairman of the Shanghai Municipal Council, at a polo match.
“Miss Levine,” the assistant called out her name. “Dr. Vaughn will see you now.”
“Thank you.” Eden picked up her purse and entered the treatment room.
Vaughn, all smiles, welcomed her. “Miss Levine, correct? What can I do for you today?” He turned the dental chair set in the middle of the room for his patients and invited her to take a seat.
“Actually, I’m not here for any treatment.”
Vaughn gave her a puzzled look.
“I’m here because I want to talk to you about Lillian Berman.”
His eyebrow twitched. “You mean the girl who was murdered in front of the Jing ’An Temple? Why would you want to talk to me about her?”
Eden softened her face, trying to put him at ease. “The day before she died, she told me she was meeting you for dinner. She said you’d planned a special birthday dinner for her.” Eden choked up, remembering how happy Lillian was that afternoon. “We’re both Lillian’s friends. I’m hoping you can tell me what happened to her after you had dinner with her. Did you take her home? Did she go home by herself? If there’s anything you can tell me that can help to find who killed her, I’d really appreciate it, as would her parents.”
Vaughn kept his mouth tight while Eden spoke. When she finished, he turned the dental chair back around. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I don’t know her. I’ve never met her.”
Eden frowned. “But she told me herself she was meeting you for dinner.”
“I don’t know why she said that. I had never even heard of her until the story of her murder broke in the news.”
Confounded, Eden stepped forward. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would she lie?”
“I honestly can’t tell you. The only thing I can think of is, she might have heard of me from someone she knew. I run a very successful practice here. It’s not unusual for people to have heard of me and my work. That’s how I get new patients. Other than that, I don’t know what else to say. Another thing is, and I don’t mean to boast so please don’t take it that way, but it’s a simple fact that a lot of young ladies here have been quite taken with me since I arrived in this city. But I’m a busy man. I’ve got work. I can’t make acquaintance with every young lady who wants to meet me. It’s possible that some of them might wish that they had, or tell
stories about it.”
Eden frowned. Could Lillian have made it all up? Would she do that?
“I’m very sorry for what happened to your friend. It’s a terrible tragedy. I wish I could help. But this is as befuddling to me as it is to you.” He opened his door. “I’m sorry. I have to get on with work now.”
Thoroughly confused, Eden left his office. She wandered aimlessly down the streets, replaying what Vaughn had said. It was true, Lillian had had a crush on Roland Vaughn for months. But no one had ever seen them together. Could Lillian have lied about meeting him that night?
What if Vaughn was lying? What if he knew something more than he was letting on? If he’d somehow neglected Lillian’s safety and caused her to end up in a dangerous situation, he certainly wouldn’t want the public to know about it. He’d be blamed for her death.
Then again, he didn’t give Eden the impression of someone irresponsible. Everything about him was impeccable. From the way he dressed to the way he arranged his office. Roland Vaughn was not a negligent man.
Something was wrong about all this. Very wrong.
What if he was the killer?
Eden’s pulse quickened. This was a serious accusation. She didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
Either way, Vaughn was a dead lead. He wouldn’t tell her anything more. Where should she look to next?
The SMP had said a Chinese street cleaner discovered Lillian’s body. Could the street cleaner have seen anything? If she wanted to find the street cleaner, she’d need help.
Clark would be the best person for her to call. With all his connections, he could find the street cleaner who had discovered Lillian that day.
How awkward though for her to have to contact him. They hadn’t spoken since the night at Sambuca in Blood Alley. If she called him now, would it look like she was finding an excuse to get close to him? She didn’t want him to think that.
She kept on walking. The feeling of guilt soon overshadowed her fear of humiliation. Poor Lillian was dead. Brutally killed. What kind of friend was she that she couldn’t overcome her silly embarrassment to help find the killer? What was her embarrassment compared to the devastation felt by Mr. and Mrs. Berman, who had lost their only daughter?
She had to call Clark. When the next taxi drove by, she hailed it and hurried home.
Her heart started to race. What should she say when he picked up the phone? What was the best way to talk to him so he wouldn’t think she was merely using Lillian’s case as an excuse to talk to him?
But it was a good excuse. And she did want to talk to him and see him again.
Forgive me, Lillian, she thought and held her hands in prayer close to her heart. If she felt glad for a chance to see Clark, it was not her intent. But she couldn’t help how she felt.
Arriving home, Eden put away her purse and hat, and went to the phone to dial the number. While the phone rang, she could see Isaac reading at his desk in his room through the crack left by his unclosed door.
The receiver picked up on the other end.
Eden took a deep breath. “Hello? Is this Clark?”
In the study, Clark hung up the phone with a tinge of joy spreading inside him. It felt inappropriate, given the grim news Eden had just told him. When she told him that the girl who had been found murdered in front of the Jing ‘An Temple was her friend Lillian Berman, he felt rattled too. He had heard about the murder, but hadn’t realize the victim was someone he knew. Even though he’d only met Lillian once, hearing that she was now dead and was killed in such a horrifying manner chilled him.
Still, he couldn’t help letting a quick smile escape to his face. It was all pointless, he knew. There was nothing he could pursue with Eden. And since the night at Sambuca, he was sure she would not want to hear from him again. What a surprise it was to receive her call. She hadn’t withdrawn herself from him. She reached out and asked him for help.
His private joy was quashed when his father stormed into the room. “What have you done?”
Clark turned around. His father looked furious.
“What are you talking about?” Clark asked.
“What is this I hear about you asking Old Shen to buy up government bonds?” his father demanded to know.
Clark’s heart flitted. He lowered his eyes and looked away. “I told him about an investment opportunity. Why? What did he tell you?”
“An investment opportunity? A million dollars’ worth of investment in government bonds? Do you take me for a fool? Who would make this kind of junk high-risk investment? Even if I haven’t taught you how to make money, you should be smarter than that. Why would you ask him to do a thing like that?”
“Our government needs contributions,” Clark said, wondering how much he could let on and how much he should keep secret. “He agreed to it.”
Mr. Yuan laughed. “Shen’s not an idiot. One thing I know about him is he knows how to handle his money. There’s no way he would’ve parted with such a large sum without some kind of promised return. But I can see no promise return. All I know about is his workers threatening to strike if he wouldn’t pay up. That old money grubber has never been short of money before. How did all this happen? You had to have done something to bind him in such a hard place.”
“Ba! Is that what he told you?” Clark asked. His mind was racing to figure out how to explain this to his father.
“He didn’t tell me anything. He didn’t say a single bad remark about you, and you really ought to thank him to heaven for shielding you. But don’t you take me for a fool. When I heard the rumors about the strike, I only had to ask around to find out what was going on. Then I hear about the million dollars of bonds he bought that are worth the value of the paper they are printed on, and him calling you for help when the strike happened. I can figure it out. He had a troop of old hands he could’ve called. Why would he call you if you didn’t have something to do with it?”
“All right then. I talked him into buying the bonds. I helped him solve the problem with the strike. Everything’s fine now. There’s no problem.”
“No problem?” Mr. Yuan came closer. “No problem? How will he get his one million dollars back? And moreover, what is all this about his workers getting kidnapped by the gangs? Do you have something to do with that too?”
“No,” Clark said, unable to raise his head.
“Don’t lie to me. What are you doing behind my back? Are you involved with some kind of racketeering now?”
“No! I have nothing to do with any kidnapping.” He gathered his nerve to look back at his father. “The KMT needs funds. I’ve decided to help them raise it. I know, it’s a lot of money. But it’s not money going to waste. Money buys power. That million dollars Master Shen gave will come back tenfold when the government is in the position to return favors.”
“Money buys power. I’ve never heard you talk like this. I didn’t raise you to use money to gain power. Who else did you talk into giving up cash?”
Clark balled his fist. He might as well answer the question. Paper couldn’t hold fire. In time, his father could hear about it anyway. “Director Gao. Master Xue. Master Liao. Uncle Tao. Mr. Ding—”
“Enough,” Mr. Yuan shouted. His eyes opened wide in disbelief. “No wonder everyone is behaving so strangely lately when they see me, like they don’t want to say too much to me. Did someone put you up to this?”
Madam Chiang Kai-shek did, but Clark couldn’t tell his father that. Not if he were to keep the secret that she’d threatened his father’s own business. “No.”
“I don’t approve of this. Tomorrow, I want you to go to your office and tell them you’ll quit. I don’t want you working there anymore. You can come back to help me out.”
Quit? Clark thought. He couldn’t quit. He still had a list of people to follow up on to collect the pay. If he didn’t deliver, what would Soong Mei-Ling do to his father’s company and all his business partners? “No. I’m not quitting.”
“You dare to defy me?” his
father asked, raising his voice.
“I don’t want to quit yet!” Clark shouted back.
His mother, hearing the noise, came into the study. “What are you father and son arguing about? The whole house can hear you.”
“Ask your son.” Mr. Yuan raised his arm and pointed at Clark. “I’m telling him to quit his job and come back to work for our company. He refuses to listen.”
“I can’t quit like that. You can’t treat my work like child’s play.”
“Ay, ay,” Madam Yuan patted Clark’s back. “Don’t cross your father.” She went over to her husband. “Calm down. Of course he’ll come back to work for you. Why wouldn’t our son return to work for his family? I say, we need to help him tame his proclivity for trying exciting things outside. Have him get married sooner, then all these interests in matters outside will wane. People’s wild temperaments always subside after they start a family.” She came back to Clark’s side. “Here. Don’t enrage your father anymore. Come with me. I have something I want you to do.” She took his arm and pulled him to leave the room.
Clark left his father and followed his mother out. Quitting his job was not possible. Best to let his father’s anger pass. If his father held a grudge, he could live with that. He was doing what he had to, to protect his family and their company.
Feeling relieved, Clark followed his mother to her room, only to find he’d traded one problem for another.
“Look.” Madam Yuan took a small box out of her dresser and opened it to show him a jade and gold bracelet. “Isn’t this beautiful? I got it for you to give to Shen Yi.”
“What?”
“We haven’t given her any gift since you got back. We need to show some sincerity. And look how mad you made your father just now. You aren’t a small child anymore. You need to start thinking about getting married instead of being a dangling singleton with no responsibilities messing around with interests outside.”
