The Goddess of Yantai

by Ian Hamilton

  “Why?”

  “As you know, not only wasn’t there a name or address on the outside, there was nothing on the inside to indicate who sent it. Fai would like to contact whoever did, but right now that’s impossible.”

  “I told you everything I know.”

  “Do you think you could search your memory again?”

  “I don’t think it would do much good.”

  “The thing is, the package was delivered during the day, so there was good light. Your house is very close to Fai’s, and if you were at the window like you said, you must have had a very clear view of the man. You are a writer, and from what I’ve experienced talking to you, you seem to be observant.”

  “I told you, he was wearing jeans and a hoodie that was pulled over his head and covered most of his face.”

  “But you could see some of his face?”

  “I saw part of the bottom half. He had a scrawny black beard. That’s all I can say for certain.”

  “That’s a start,” Ava said with a slight smile. “Now, as you told us earlier, he obviously wasn’t in a uniform, but are you sure there wasn’t a name on the hoodie? I don’t mean a business name, but how about a brand name?”

  “None that I can remember.”

  “What colour was the hoodie?”

  “A dark blue.”’

  “Like the jeans?”

  “No, they were light brown.”

  Ava had brought her notebook with her. Now she opened it and made a note of Fan’s description. She felt his eyes on her and knew he was wondering what he’d said that warranted being written down. “What was he wearing on his feet?” she asked.

  “Shoes.”

  He was getting annoyed, Ava knew, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. “What kind of shoes? Dress, work, running?”

  “White running shoes.”

  “Did you see what brand?”

  “Nike.”

  “Your memory is improving. I thought it might if you made an effort,” Ava said. “Now, how tall do you think he was?”

  “Five eight or nine. Medium height, anyway.”

  “Was he skinny, fat?”

  “Hard to tell under the hoodie, but I’d guess medium again.”

  Ava sat back on the sofa with the notebook open on her lap, all of her attention on Fan. “When the man came to Fai’s door, did he knock on it, did he wait to see if anyone was home, or did he just leave the envelope by the door?”

  “What are you, some kind of detective or police officer?”

  “As I told you when we first met, I’m an accountant. It’s a profession that values detail.”

  Fan shrugged. “I didn’t see him knock. He just leaned the envelope against the door.”

  “Did you find that strange?”

  “I didn’t think about it.”

  “And after he placed the envelope at the door, did he hurry off? Was he looking around as if he was afraid someone would see him?”

  “None of the above. He looked perfectly relaxed.”

  “How could you tell when you couldn’t see his face?”

  “He walked naturally enough.”

  “This is terrifically helpful, Mr. Fan,” Ava said, looking down at her notebook. “Now there’s just one more question I have for you. I hope it won’t cause offence.”

  “I have found most of your approach offensive.”

  “Good. So this shouldn’t be any worse,” Ava said with a smile. “What I’m anxious to know is whether or not you switched envelopes.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” he said, starting to rise from his chair.

  “Please sit. I don’t want to have to insist,” Ava said.

  He stared at her, and she stared back. He was the first to break eye contact, and a few seconds later he fell back into his chair.

  “The reason I ask is that it is highly unusual to get a package or envelope delivered with simply a name on it. In this case the name was written in some kind of black felt pen. You told us that you went to get the envelope because it was raining and you were afraid it would get wet. Well, there isn’t any overhang at Fai’s door. If it was already raining, the envelope would have gotten wet and the ink on the envelope would have run. The envelope you gave us looked as if it had just come out of a drawer.”

  He turned his eyes away from her and she watched him lick his lips.

  “Please don’t lie to me,” she said. “This could be important.”

  “I didn’t look at the disk,” he said. “I don’t have anything to play it on.”

  “Was there a note with the disk?”

  “No.”

  “Where’s the original envelope?”

  “In my trash.”

  “Please get it.”

  He pushed himself up from the chair and, still not looking at her, went towards what she knew was the kitchen. She glanced around the room. There was no television, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one upstairs or that he hadn’t watched the disk on his computer.

  “Here it is,” he said, walking out of the kitchen with his hand extended.

  The envelope was grey and about the same size as the brown one. Fai’s name and address were smudged but still clearly visible. There was no information about the sender or anything that would indicate a delivery company had been used.

  “It doesn’t look like it really needed to be rescued,” Ava said.

  “The rain had just started. It got worse.”

  “And you’re certain there was no note inside.”

  “There was only the disk.”

  “Which you didn’t watch.”

  “Correct.”

  “And everything you’ve told me about the person who left the envelope at Fai’s door is all you can remember?”

  “I swear it is.”

  Ava slipped the envelope into the back of her notebook. “Mr. Fan, there are several crimes you could be charged with,” she said slowly. “But I think that Fai will be prepared to maintain a good relationship with you as a neighbour if you agree not to do anything like this ever again.”

  “Never,” he said quickly.

  “And if you don’t talk about this incident to anyone.”

  “Why would I?”

  “One last thing. Can you tell me how to get in touch with Lau Lau?”

  “What does he have to do with any of this?”

  “I may need to talk to him. That’s all you need to know.”

  “I’m not sure I —”

  “Mr. Fan,” Ava said, leaning in close. “When I met you in the tea room, you told me that you’ve seen Lau Lau from time to time. How did that happen? Did he call you? Did you call him? Did you meet by accident on the street?”

  “He called me.”

  “Do you have a phone number for him?”

  “I’m not sure it’s still in service.”

  “Give it to me anyway. We’ll take our chances with it.”

  “The book with those numbers is in my bedroom.”

  “Go and get it. I’ll wait,” Ava said. “But Mr. Fan, please don’t try anything fancy. Please don’t try to call Lau Lau or anyone else while you’re upstairs. I may not look particularly fearsome, but I am adept at martial arts and I have no reservations about hitting a man of your age.”

  He raised himself slowly from the chair and then stared down at her. “What kind of woman has Pang Fai become entangled with?”

  “One she needs.”

  ( 26 )

  Ava left Fan’s house, walked a few metres to the right, and opened the door to find Fai on her knees in the living room, surrounded by boxes.

  “I didn’t put dates on any of these — I feel so disorganized. But I think I’ve finally found the right time period,” Fai said. “How did it go with Mr. Fan?”
<
br />   “It went well enough. Among other things, I confirmed that he’s a sneak and not to be trusted.”

  “Why do you say that?” Fai asked as she leafed through a stack of paper.

  “He opened the original package that was delivered and put the DVD in a new envelope.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He told me after I confronted him,” Ava said, taking the envelope from her notebook. “There’s no information on it that’s of any use, and he swears there wasn’t anything but the DVD inside.”

  “Did he watch the disk?” Fai asked, her voice rising.

  “He says he didn’t, and I didn’t see anything he could watch it on inside the house.”

  “Is he involved in this?”

  Ava lowered herself onto the floor next to Fai. “I don’t think so. If he was, there would be no reason for him to switch envelopes. He’s just a nosy old man.”

  Fai hesitated, nodded, and then opened a red binder and began to leaf through it. “This may be the one,” she said suddenly.

  Ava looked at a photo of a thin, long-faced young woman with large, luminous eyes.

  “Her name is Mak Guang. She had a minor supporting role in this film. I feel so stupid now that I couldn’t remember,” Fai said.

  “You said it was a difficult time.”

  “The film was called Peasant Dreams. It was the first one I made that wasn’t directed by Lau Lau. So in addition to all the personal stuff we were going through, I was massively insecure about the prospect of working with a new director. I wanted to impress him and everyone else so badly; I wanted to prove that I was a real actress and not simply Lau Lau’s creation.”

  Ava looked at Mak Guang again. “There is a definite similarity between her and the woman in the video,” she said.

  “Oh, it’s her, I’m sure of it. It’s all coming back to me now.”

  “So you went back to her place? It wasn’t someone else’s, or a hotel room?”

  “She said it was her place, but how would I really know? She could have been sharing it or borrowing it.”

  “What did you know about her?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did she work full-time as an actress or did she have another job? Did she have a boyfriend or a girlfriend? Was she out?”

  “Ava, I wanted sex. I didn’t go with her for the conversation,” Fai said. “I had hardly spoken to her until we hooked up that night, and I didn’t see her or speak to her again after that. In fact, I think one of the reasons I went with her was that it was her last scheduled day of shooting, so I wouldn’t have to deal with her on the set the next day.”

  “Okay,” Ava said, not particularly surprised by Fai’s admission. When she was younger, she herself had indulged in that kind of almost anonymous sex. “But now that you do know her name, can you locate her?”

  “Let me see what I can find online. My phone is in the kitchen,” Fai said, getting to her feet.

  Ava thought about joining her but decided that looking over Fai’s shoulder would be more intrusive than helpful. Instead she picked up the Peasant Dreams binder. In the front was a list of the cast and crew. Only the director, producer, cinematographer, and cast warranted photos. The bulk of the binder was the script. Fai — at least, Ava assumed it was Fai — had highlighted her lines in yellow marker and had written comments in the margin. Some of the comments were less than complimentary about the lines she was expected to speak, and Ava wondered how many of them had survived as written.

  “I’m not finding very much,” Fai shouted from the kitchen. “She seems to have packed it in not long after that film was made. It might be more productive to make some phone calls.”

  “Then let’s do that.”

  “Check the cast list on that film, will you?” Fai said. “I think Jin Delun was part of it, and if he was, I’ll call him. He makes a point of staying in touch with just about everyone he’s ever worked with.”

  “He’s there.”

  “Great. I have his number,” Fai said.

  Ava walked into the kitchen just as Fai was raising the phone to her ear. “Popo. It’s me, Pang Fai.”

  Ava blinked. Po po was the slang term for “old lady” or “grandmother.”

  “I’m well, and it sounds like you are too,” Fai said. “The reason I’m calling is that I need to contact Mak Guang. Do you remember her? She was tall and skinny, played one of my sisters in Peasant Dreams.”

  Ava watched Fai as she listened to Jin. After a few minutes a slight nod of Fai’s head and a small, tight smile told her they were having some success.

  “Well?” Ava said as Fai hung up.

  “She lives somewhere in Tianjin,” said Fai.

  “Somewhere? Tianjin is a large city.”

  “He’s texting me her phone number. Popo says her husband’s name is Yao Bolin. He’s the deputy mayor.”

  “She married well.”

  “That’s one of the benefits of being an actress. The exposure expands your marriage pool.”

  “So Mak is bi?”

  “Who knows? She could be like me. It could be a marriage of convenience. God knows there are enough of them.”

  “Did Jin ever marry?”

  “No,” Fai said. “He’s so flamboyantly gay he couldn’t fool a blind and deaf woman.”

  “Is that why you call him Popo?”

  “That’s what he calls himself. If I had asked for Jin Delun, he might not have recognized right away who I was talking about.”

  Ava looked at her watch. “Well, even if he’s correct about her living in Tianjin, and especially if he’s right about her being married to the deputy mayor, it’s a bit late to call her tonight.”

  “Why is it too late?”

  “We want her to be honest with us. Do you think she’ll be forthright if we call her at home when her husband’s there?”

  “Why would she be honest if he isn’t there?”

  “Because you’re not the only person in the video. She’ll be as anxious as you are not to have it made public.”

  “Of course she will.” Fai groaned. “I’m not thinking very clearly.”

  “You came up with her name, so your memory isn’t that bad,” Ava said. “How are things with Lau Lau?”

  “Why do you mention him?”

  “It’s the video. I know it’s crude, but he was capable of arranging it.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Jealousy? Revenge? You said things were a mess between you at the time, and he knew about your fondness for women.”

  “He was never vindictive.”

  “Maybe he was confused, screwed up. Maybe he filmed it for kicks. Who knows what his rationale might have been? But he could have done it and then hung on to it, until things went bad financially and he decided he could use it to cash in.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I don’t know what to believe, except that we can’t discount anything, and that we shouldn’t be surprised by anything Mak tells us tomorrow.”

  “You seem sure that she’ll know who filmed us.”

  Ava hesitated, not sure how far to take her questions. “Fai, when you and Mak hooked up, who did the hooking? Who made the first move?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Think harder. If it was her and she took you back to the apartment, it could have been a setup. If it was you and her apartment was a convenience, then we’re dealing with something far more complicated.”

  “You said earlier that you don’t believe in coincidences,” Fai said.

  “And it doesn’t seem believable that you’d accidently end up in an apartment that had a surveillance system of some sort, does it.”

  “No. If it wasn’t an accident, it had to be someone close to me who had a hand in it.”

 
“We don’t know who did what yet. We need to keep completely open minds.”

  Fai shook her head. “My mind can’t handle any more tonight.”

  “Then let’s go to bed and put our minds on hold until tomorrow morning.”

  ( 27 )

  Ava woke in an empty bed. She’d slept the entire night, foregoing her usual early-hours bathroom run, and had been so out of it that she hadn’t heard Fai get up. She felt the sheets on Fai’s side of the bed. They were cool; Ava wondered when she’d risen.

  She slid from the bed, slipped on some underwear and a pair of black Adidas training pants, and then pulled a black Giordano T-shirt over her head. Before going to the bathroom, she went to the top of the stairs. “You down there?” she shouted.

  “I’m making breakfast.”

  “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll see you when I’m done.”

  Five minutes later, washed and brushed, Ava was halfway down the stairs before the first hint of aroma tickled her nose. She guessed it was congee, but that confused her, because the rice porridge normally took hours of preparation; in most cases it would have been started the night before. Just how long had Fai been up?

  When she walked into the kitchen, Fai was standing over the stove stirring a pot, her back turned. She was wearing only underwear and a T-shirt. On the table were plates of pickled tofu, salted duck eggs, and youtiao. “I know you bought the food on the table, but when did you find the time to make congee?” Ava asked.

  “I bought that too,” Fai said. “There’s an old woman with a stall on the hutong that opens from six to ten in the morning to sell congee and all the things that go with it. She usually runs out of congee by eight. This is one of the few times I was early enough to get some.”

  “What time was that?”

  “Before seven.”

  Ava glanced at the clock on the stove. It was almost nine. “And when did you get out of bed?”

  “Around six, but I woke up about an hour before that.”

  “You should have let me know.”

  “Why? You were sleeping so soundly it would have been selfish to disturb you. Besides, when I woke up I had a bit of a panic attack. I couldn’t stop thinking about the horrible things that might happen. So I eventually came downstairs, made some tea, and sat in the kitchen by myself with all the lights on. By the time the sun came up, things didn’t seem quite so dire and I was famished. So I went to see the congee woman.”