“I have a better idea.”

“You always do.”

“Can you let word leak out that you wanted to charge them, that whole loser crowd, but I asked you not to, and as a favor to your best and oldest friend, you didn’t?”

“That would give him big face. Using his family influence to protect his friends.”

“Yes, but he’d owe me.”

“He already owes you for not using fingerprints you don’t have.”

“So maybe we’d reach a tipping point and actually get something useful out of him. I’ll call and give him a squeeze.”

“Yeah, right.”

Inspector Wei said, “I think is good idea.”

Mary turned to her. “You do?”

“If can’t get anything by arrest Cousin Armpit, good idea, create guanxi debt. For this case, or for future.”

“Oh, fine. Though if Cousin Armpit comes through, Lydia, now or ever-”

“You’ll be the first to know. One more thing?”

“Please, be my guest.”

“If C. D. Zhang ripped off Mr. Chen and Mr. Zhang for a million dollars, why are they sitting at his hospital bedside?”

“Maybe,” Inspector Wei said, “they want to know where is.”

“Or maybe because whatever he did,” said Mary, “he’s still family.”

The Fifth Precinct air conditioners may have been wheezy, but they’d been getting the job done. The minute I walked out onto Elizabeth Street, my shirt melted around me. Car exhaust and the aroma of roasting chickens thickened the sluggish air. I took out my phone and called my cousin.

“Yah?”

“It’s Lydia, and I just saved your skinny ass.”

“Huh?”

I explained how close he and his homies had come to protective custody. “But the detective’s a friend of mine. So I told her to leave you alone.”

“Why?”

“You’re welcome. Because you’re my cousin and I have a certain amount of family feeling. And because I really, really want to know who the White Eagles’ clients were, for the noodle shop job and for my office.”

“No way-”

“Armpit, the private army thing is over. The way this went down today, no one will hire the White Eagles to take out the garbage. If you don’t find out who the clients were, I may have to tell Mary I’ve just run out of family feeling.” I hung up on him. Then I called Bill. “Where are you?”

“In my kitchen drinking coffee. You?”

“On my way home, to take a shower. Who ever said I didn’t know when to quit?”

“Everyone. You want to get together when you’re done?”

“Of course.”

In the empty apartment I showered, dressed, and got ready to hit the street again. I wore a big linen shirt. I’d have been happier in a sleeveless top and shorts, but with the way bullets had been flying around lately I’d have felt uncomfortable without a gun. The NYPD still had the.25 Fishface had taken off me, but a.22 can do in a pinch. Just before I left, I called my mother. Someone was sure to tell her about the scene outside New Day Noodle, and I wanted her to think whatever they said was greatly exaggerated.

Barry answered the phone. “Auntie Lydia! Po-po’s teaching us to play fan-tan! I won three dollars and eight cents!” He ran to get my mother.

“Ling Wan-ju? Are you all right?” my mother demanded. “Those gang boys, did they come?”

“No, Ma.” We went to them.

“I see.” I could hear her relax. “Then you had no reason to send me out to Flushing.”

“I sent you so I wouldn’t have to worry, remember? How are you?”

“If you are not worrying, why did you call?”

Sigh. “Just to check up. Listen, Ma, there was some excitement, and a bunch of White Eagles are in jail.”

“Your cousin Clifford? Oh, his poor mother!”

“No, Clifford’s okay. But if you speak to Kwan Shan, tell her to tell Clifford to behave himself. His dai lo’s been arrested, and the cops are watching him and his friends.”

“Kwan Shan can say what she wants. Clifford will not listen. Some children never listen to their mothers. Your brother is painting the downstairs kitchen white, to make it brighter.”

If a more pointed remark was ever made, I couldn’t think of it. “That’s great, Ma. I have to go. Talk to you later.” I locked up and headed to Excellent Dumpling House.

Bill was there waiting. “You look fresh and sharp.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“Mixing it up with the White Eagles took it out of you?”

“No, but I just got off the phone with my mother. You okay?”

“Fine. Mary yelled at me, but she didn’t arrest me, so I came out ahead. She wanted to know whether crashing the noodle shop meeting was my stupid idea or your stupid idea.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I said we’re such a perfect team, so much in sync, it’s impossible to tell which of us originated any particular stupid idea.”

“I’ll bet she loved that.”

“Not even a little. You want pork, chicken, or shrimp?”

“All three. And dry-fried green beans.”

He raised his eyebrows, but I ignored him. He was the one who’d pointed out I get hungry when my adrenaline’s high. I didn’t mention the orange and the banana I’d eaten when I got home, or the Fig Newtons I’d grabbed on my way out the door.

“We have a problem,” I said while we waited for the dumplings.

“Mary wants Alice, I know.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We?”

“Don’t give me that look. We, white man.”

“Can I say something serious?”

“I don’t know, can you?”

“If Wong Pan killed Joel, then whatever else, you did what you promised Joel. You caught his killer.”

I sipped tea, and when it was gone, I said, “We,” again.

Bill gave me a grin, I gave him a slow smile, and we probably looked like idiots by the time the waiter settled bamboo steamers on our table.

For a while we focused on dumplings and beans. The clatter, the rush, the familiar smells and tastes finally relaxed me. “Maybe it doesn’t matter.” I poured the remains of the tea. “About Alice. I have no idea how to find her.”

“You have her sister.”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mention that. Do I have to give her to Mary? She’s so… cheerful.”

He said nothing, which said everything.

“Oh, you’re impossible! Can I finish lunch first?” Without waiting for his answer, in case he said no, I pulled out my phone. Not to call Mary, though. I wanted to try Alice once more.

“It’s Lydia,” I told her voice mail. “The entire NYPD is looking for you. You’re in serious trouble. I’d like to talk to you before they do. Call me.”

I put the phone away. “You know what really bothers me?”

“The Shanghai Moon. That it wasn’t here.”

“You’re impossible, but you do have your moments. Yes, the Shanghai Moon. That it’s no more real now than when you were hearing about it in sailors’ bars. It hasn’t come back. It hasn’t been seen at least since Rosalie died, probably longer than that. Everyone told us that, but I didn’t listen. I’ve never even seen the thing, and I got all tangled up, just like all those other people over the years. I wanted to believe. Because of Rosalie and Kai-rong. I wanted-”

“Lydia?”

“Stop. If you’re about to tell me not to be hard on myself, I don’t-”

“I’m not. Listen. Zhang said he’d never told that story before, about when Rosalie died. To anyone.”

“So he wouldn’t call down more bad luck. My mother would understand that.”

“Right. So how did C. D. know? He told us Chen and Zhang always thought robbers took the Shanghai Moon. How did he know about the robbers?”

“Mr. Zhang must have told him. He’s his brother.”

“He said no one, ever. He tried not to even think about it because of the bad luck. And he didn’t see C.D. again until twenty years later. Why would he tell him then?”

I thought about it. “Maybe Mr. Chen told him?”

“Zhang said neither of them talked about it.”

“Paul Gilder?”

“C. D. said he hardly knew him.”

“Still…”

“It’s possible. But don’t you want to know?”