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Chinatown was a city in and of itself. The only thing that kept it from being autonomous was its lack of any one leader. Several tongs controlled the crimes and lives of the Chinese that lived there, but there were no governmental figures. An old man lived above the meat market, he seemed to be revered by the community. His name was Lo Si, though everyone called him the Ancient.
Frank Strenlich led the investigation into Detective Peter Caine's beating and Annie Blaisdell's disappearance. He pulled the sedan into a parking lot, exited while making sure all the doors were locked. To get around in Chinatown, one generally walked. There were more people than cars and most shops were outside on the sidewalk. Frank sighed as he waited for his partner to come around from the passenger side and join him.
It had been a long time since he'd walked a beat, literally, and longer than that when he was sergeant in the Marines, barking out orders to his new recruits or following them on hikes, in full gear. Age, time and desk duty had caught up with him, now the thought of walking down the block against the pressing crowd seemed like a ten-mile hike.
"Where do we start first, Chief?" Blake asked. He'd been chosen to help with the case, mainly because he was one of the few who knew Blaisdell and his family. Another reason was because, although he was made fun of for his fiddling with electronics, Blake was a very good detective.
Surveying the brightly colored signs that littered the streets with letters that Frank could only guess at the meaning, he nodded to the right. "Peter likes the Silver Dragon. He'd have gone there."
"If anyone knew of his passion for that place, he'd have been an easy target," Blake mumbled as they headed in the direction of the restaurant.
It sat at the intersection of Wessox and Magnolia. Lanterns with red tassels dangling from each point decorated the entrance. A sign with a red dragon on a green background was above the door, Chinese and American letters spelled out the name of the eatery.
The afternoon crowd had left and the workers inside were cleaning up, preparing for the evening patrons who would be arriving in only a matter of hours. The clatter of dishes and silverware came from the kitchen, the noise unobscured by the double swinging doors that kept the working kitchen from the sights of the patrons.
A short man, though not short by Asian comparison, greeted the two officers. His jet-black hair and almond shaped eyes gave away his heritage. "I am Lo Fong, the owner. We are closed until 5. If you would please come back then."
Frank reached for his wallet and showed the owner his badge. "I'm Chief Frank Strenlich of the 101st. This is Detective Blake. We need to ask you a few questions if we may."
While the owner and Frank went to a quiet corner to talk, Blake walked around the dining area, noting the positions of the tables, taking in the paintings along the walls. Busboys were busy setting out napkins and silverware, putting thin envelopes at each silverware setting. Picking up one of them, he smiled at the wooden chopsticks that were enclosed in the packages.
Years ago, half a world and lifetime away, he had learned to eat with chopsticks. As a wedding present to his young bride, he took her to China to see the great wall. Her inner most desire was to see the Great Wall. Her inner most desire was to see the structure, a phenomena that she taught each day in school. Geography had been her special talent that had brought them together in the first place.
A picture of the Great Wall caught his attention. Moving to it, he stepped on something hard and heard it crunch. Looking down, he saw that it was a lens from someone's sunglasses. He stooped to pick it up. While in the crouched position, he looked around, remembering that most clues were found below the knee level.
Taking note that he was at the inner wall of the room, a hunch had him looking for fine lines that would indicate hidden doors. He knew the Chinese had many ways of hiding people and things and a hidden exit would be cleverly disguised.
"Excuse, please," the accented broken English interrupted his thoughts.
Blake looked up from his position into the dark eyes of a young boy who held a tray piled high with cutlery and china. "I'm sorry," he apologized as he stood and moved out of the young man's way. A motion from Frank caught his attention and Blake gave up on his hunch, making note to come back again. First, he needed to talk to Paul and hopefully Peter.
The two officer's were quiet as they left the building, both knowing that their next stop would be the hospital and that listening ears were not so far away. The car would be the best place to discuss their findings. "I think we need to eat here one night," Blake broke the quiet.
At first, Frank didn't understand the odd comment, but looking into his partner's eyes, he realized what the true unspoken words meant. "Maybe tonight. Molly has been begging to go out to a good Chinese place. It seemed clean and Pete likes it. You wanna join us?"
Making their way to the car, they made their plans to visit the restaurant that night while stopping on occasion to ask questions of the street merchants. Answers were few and many in Chinese. Occasionally, a weary glance behind them from one or two patrons or owners led the officers to believe their gut feelings that they were being followed.
Over an hour later, they reached their car and got in, casually looking around for the shadow they knew they had. Who ever it was had mixed into the crowd of Asian Americans that crowded the streets.
"I take it that Peter and Annie did eat there," Blake stated as Frank pulled the car into traffic, avoiding the pedestrians.
"Yeah. The owner said they left though and he didn't see anything. I asked him how long they had stayed, he didn't remember."
"You think he's hiding something?"
Glancing quickly at Blake, Frank nodded. "Or someone. Let's get to the hospital and see how Pete's doing. Maybe Paul can tell us something that might be useful. Did you see anything?"
Blake pulled out the dark lens from his coat pocket and smiled. "This. It's the right size to have come from Annie's glasses. Found it at one of the booths near the kitchen door. There was also a table missing. Feng Shui dictates the placement of tables and chairs and if I can remember it right, then something happened there that they are minus one table which brings bad chi to the restaurant."
The knowledge that Blake had on the ancient Chinese philosophy stunned Frank. He sent a questioning glance at his passenger.
Blake smiled. "I visited China once and learned a few things about it and the culture. And since it is in our district, I have looked some of it up. Came in handy once or twice for a friend who needed some information on Chinese customs." Changing the subject, he stated, "I really do want to go back tonight. I want to see if they add the table that was missing or what."
"And what if they do?"
"I don't know," Blake answered with disgust. "We really need to know what happened and these people are not going to help us. That's one of the reasons why Peter trusts them so much."