InsaneJournal

Author's note 1: [Brackets] indicate the animals' speech, which Leon cannot understand.

Author's note 2: This story presumes that Chris used to live at the petshop, but now lives with his adoptive parents (Leon's aunt and uncle). I made up the stuff about D growing up in Japan; I invented that part of his background to explain why he sometimes speaks Japanese in my stories.

Translation note: "Ni hao" means "hello" in Chinese. "Urusai" means "noisy" or annoying in Japanese; D uses the latter meaning when speaking to Leon. "Oyasumi-nasai" means "goodnight" in Japanese.




Leon was sound asleep, blissfully dreaming about the Count, but an annoying ringing noise off in the distance pulled him back into the waking world.
   
"Uhnn..."
   
"Keiji-san, answer your phone!"
   
"Kyu, kyu!"
   
Leon slowly opened his eyes, looking around blearily. He was lying in a large, canopied bed. Gauzy, gossamer-thin curtains had been drawn back around the bed, and some sort of small, flowered tapestries or scrolls hung from the canopy like streamers. An odd little bat-like creature was hovering in the air, squeaking at him. Oh yeah, he thought, I'm at the Count's place. The ringing seemed to be coming from somewhere on the floor. He leaned over, picked up his jacket and pulled his cell phone out of the pocket.
   
"Orcot."
   
"Hi, Leon. Are you at Count D's?"
   
"That's none of your business, Jill!"
   
"I'm not just being nosy. The wife and daughter of a Chinatown businessman have been murdered, and I want you to bring D down here as soon as possible."
   
"Why do you need D?" Leon grumbled.
   
"Because the only witness is a 5-year old boy who apparently can't speak English! He's crying and babbling, and I can't calm him down, much less understand a word he's saying!"
   
"Isn't there anyone in the department who speaks Chinese?"
   
"Terry Hu over in Vice, but he's on vacation. Look, I can round up an official translator, but that'll take time, and the kid's hysterical! Get over here as soon as you can!"
   
"Keiji-san?" D appeared in the doorway. Leon did a double-take: D was wearing a red silk gown covered by an apron that had a little cartoon chick on the front saying "piyo piyo"! He was stirring something in a large mixing bowl.
   
"Uh, just a sec. What was the address, Jill? Yeah, uh huh, I got it. OK, I'll be there soon."
   
"Is something wrong, Keiji-san?"
   
"Yeah, there's been a double murder--the wife and young daughter of a man named Ling Yunhan."
   
"Oh my! Mr. Ling's family?"
   
"You know him?"
   
"By reputation. He is a very wealthy man, well known in Chinatown. His wife came to the shop occasionally."
   
"What did you sell her?! Something weird?! What was it this time--another tiger? More killer bunnies?"
   
"Do not be silly, Keiji-san. We sell 'love and dreams,' not death." As the detective growled, D continued, "All I sold her were some ordinary goldfish."
   
"Really? That's all?"
   
"That is all. I would not wish any harm on Mrs. Ling. She was a lovely and kind woman, although she seemed rather sad."
   
"What do you mean?"
   
"I think she was lonely. She said she wanted a pet to keep her company."
   
"A fish doesn't seem very cuddly."
   
She wanted a puppy or a kitten but she said her husband said they would be too noisy and messy. Apparently fish were the only pets he would tolerate."
   
"Hmmm. Doesn't sound like a loving hubby. Jill said they can't find him--could he have murdered her?"
   
"I do not know. He is a proud and arrogant man, but he does not strike me as a killer. Of course, I do not know him well."
   
"Well, we can talk about it on the way down."
   
"We?"
   
"Jill says we need a translator. Ling's son saw the murder, but he doesn't speak English. Do you mind?"
   
"Of course not. I am glad to be of help." He sighed and looked down at the bowl. "Does this mean we don't have time for breakfast? I was going to make waffles..."
   
"Sorry, we've got to hurry."
   
"Then shouldn't you get out of bed?"
   
"Uh, could you leave the room so I can get dressed?"
   
The Count smirked. "You were not so shy last night."
   
"Will you get out of here?!"
   
D sighed, a martyred look on his face. "Ordered about in my own home!"
   
Q-chan landed on Leon's head and peered down curiously at the detective. "Kyu?"
   
"And take that flying rat with you!"

***

Ten minutes later, D knocked on the bedroom door. "Aren't you ready yet, Keiji-san?"
   
"Cool your jets! I can't find my hair thingie!"
   
D opened the door to find Leon on his hands and knees, searching the carpeted floor for something. "'Thingie'?" asked the Count.
   
"You know, that rubber band thingie you use to make a ponytail? Come on, help me look!" Leon's blond hair fell across his face, and he impatiently pushed it out of the way.
   
The detective looked quite fetching with his hair loose, mused D. But unfortunately this was no time to think about such things. "We do not have time for this, Keiji-san," said D, rummaging through a dresser drawer. "Ah, here, you can use this..." he held out a pink hair ribbon.
   
"I am not wearing a pink ribbon!" shouted Leon.
   
"Urusai," muttered D under his breath, reaching back into the drawer.
   
"What was that?!"
   
"This is no time to be so picky, Keiji-san," scolded D. "Here, how about this?" He held up a black velvet ribbon.
   
"Oh, all right!" grumbled Leon, as D tied back the detective's hair, humming to himself.
   
"Kawaii!" exclaimed D, clapping his hands together.
   
"I don't know why you even have hair ribbons--" complained Leon.
   
"Some of my pets--"
   
"Oh, never mind, I don't want to know! Let's get going!"




As they drove to the crime scene, Leon said, "So tell me about Ling and his wife."
   
"Mr. Ling is what you Americans call a self-made man. His family had no money, but through hard work, and a certain amount of ruthlessness, he became a successful businessman. He started off running a small corner shop in Chinatown, and turned it into a chain of Asian grocery stores. His stores have done well, and he has invested wisely. He is very ambitious. In fact, his name, written in the Asian style with the family name first--Ling Yunhan--means 'lofty aspirations.' "
   
"Could a business rival have attacked his family for revenge?"
   
"I do not know. Mr. Ling is respected, but not well-liked. He has stepped on others during his climb to success, but I do not know of anyone who hates him enough to kill him or his family."
   
"And the wife?"
   
"Ah, Ling Meilin, formerly Wang Meilin. Her father is a very wealthy Hong Kong businessman. Their marriage was arranged as a kind of business alliance."
   
"So they didn't marry for love?"
   
"No, it was an arranged marriage."
   
"Hmm. Any hanky panky going on with either spouse?"
   
"Not on Mrs. Ling's part. She was a very honorable woman. Even if she did not love her husband, she would not betray him. And she had little opportunity. She rarely left the house. Ah, gossip has it that her husband did not permit her much freedom."
   
"He was the possessive type?"
   
D shrugged. "Saa...perhaps he was merely old-fashioned, and believed the woman's place is in the house. I also heard that he was a snob despite, or perhaps because of, his lowly origins. He did not like his wife or children associating with people he considered 'beneath' him."
   
"What about him? Was he cheating on her?"
   
"He probably had mistresses. It is not uncommon, particularly for a wealthy man in an arranged marriage."
   
"Hmph! Is that an Asian thing? The wife can't fool around but the hubby can?"
   
"I said it was common; I did not say that I approved. And I assure you there is plenty of infidelity on the part of both sexes throughout the world. Unfortunately."
   
"Well, here we are." Leon pulled up in front of the house. Iron gates stood open, revealing police cars parked in the driveway. Leon and D got out of the car and walked towards the house. Jill sat on the front steps, trying to comfort a weeping young boy. D dropped to one knee, and smiled and said, "Ni hao." The boy looked up and spoke hesitantly in Chinese. D replied in the same language. Chinese always sounded harsh to Leon, but D turned the language into something almost musical. After a moment, the boy flung his arms around the Count, sobbing hysterically. D was taken aback, but then gently stroked the child's hair, and spoke to him in a reassuring tone. Leon noticed that despite the fuss the Count had made about his ruined gown two nights ago, D knelt on the ground comforting the child without worrying about dirt or tears staining his expensive-looking silk robe.
   
While D spoke to the child, Jill said to Leon, "Nice ribbon."
   
"Oh, shut up," said Leon.
   
Jill led Leon to the crime scene. The bodies were sprawled out on the living room floor. The woman might have been beautiful in life, but it was difficult to tell. Her face was frozen in a look of terror, and her throat had been torn open. There were also long, bloody scratches on her face and arms.
   
"They look like defensive wounds," said Jill. "Like she was raising her arm to ward off an attack."
   
"Too uneven to be made by a knife--claws?!"
   
"Or someone with killer fingernails! Maybe the Count could do something like this with his nails." Jill smiled slyly at Leon. "Can you give him an alibi?"
   
Leon glared at her. "The scratches on the arms and face may have been done with fingernails, but I doubt even the Count could rip open someone's throat with his nails. Besides, he'd probably be afraid of chipping his nail polish or something!"
   
Jill's grin faded as they turned to the body of the child. A little girl, about seven or eight years old, lay on the floor like a broken doll. "Christ!" said Leon. As a homicide detective, he had become inured to the sight of death, but he never got used to seeing the children. Every time he saw one of those little bodies, he felt like someone had punched him in the gut.
   
A woman from the Medical Examiner's office knelt next to the body. "If it's any consolation, she died instantly. Looks like the neck was snapped with one blow. We'll do autopsies, of course, but I don't see any other wounds on the girl."
   
"Poor child," said Jill softly. "Her name was Wenli."
   
Leon looked around the room. Furniture had been overturned, paintings hung askew on the walls, and broken glass and wilted flowers lay on the floor, presumably a vase that had been knocked over. "Could it have been a robbery?"
   
"There's a lot of jewelry in the wife's room, untouched. TV, stereo, computer, all still here. There's a lot of expensive-looking artwork around the house. Some of it's broken--" Jill motioned towards the broken vase on the floor. "But most of it appears to be intact. Of course, with Ling gone and the wife dead, we don't know if anything's missing. Ling's car is gone; we have an APB out on it."
   
"You figure he killed his wife and daughter and took off? But what about the son?"
   
"We found him hiding under his bed."
   
Leon frowned. "Why would he leave the boy alive if he killed the rest of his family? Or did someone else kill the family and kidnap Ling? No, I've got a feeling Ling is involved somehow."
   
"Maybe D can get the boy to talk to us."
   
"Yeah, let's go back and see." As they went back out, Leon noticed among the wreckage more broken glass, this time mixed with colored pebbles, limp pieces of seaweed, and several dead goldfish. They were the fancy kind, with the frilly tails and bulging eyes. "Shit!"
   
"What's wrong?"
   
"D sold Mrs. Ling those fish. Pets to keep her company because she was lonely. It wasn't enough that whoever did this murdered a mother and an innocent child! No, he had to kill her pets, too!" For some reason he didn't fully understand, the sight of those fish filled Leon with rage.
   
Jill gently took hold of Leon's arm. "Come on, let's see if the Count has calmed the boy down enough to talk."
   
D sat on the front steps with the boy. His face was streaked with tears, but he had stopped crying. Leon couldn't see any pockets on D's robe, but he had somehow produced a handkerchief, with which he was wiping the child's face, and a lollipop, which he handed to the boy. D smiled and said, "Hello, detectives, this is Jiazhen. Jiazhen, this is Detective Leon and Detective Jill."
   
The boy looked up shyly and said, "Hello," very softly.
   
Jill and Leon both knelt down. "Ni hao," said Leon, and the boy smiled, just a little.
   
D spoke to the boy in Chinese, then said to the detectives, "I told him that you are friends of mine. He does speak some English, but Cantonese is his first language, and under these circumstances, it is difficult for him to remember his English lessons."
   
"Of course," said Jill, smiling reassuringly at the child. "Hello, Jiazhen. Is that what you like to be called, or do you have a nickname?"
   
The Count translated, and the boy whispered something to D. "He says you can call him Jia. That's what his mother and sister called him."
   
"I know this is very hard for you, Jia,"  said Jill, "but can you tell us what happened? We want to catch whoever hurt your mother and sister."
   
D translated. Jia went pale and began to tremble. D said something, and the boy's eyes widened as he looked at Leon.
   
"What did you tell him?"
   
"I told him not to be afraid because my friends will protect him. I told him you protected me from three bad men with guns the other night."
   
"Well, that's not exactly true, but...don't worry, Jia! We won't let anyone hurt you!"
   
Jia said something to D, who smiled. "He says you must be a very brave man."
   
"Well, of course! Tell him I'm very strong and brave, and won't let any bad men hurt him!" Leon flexed his arms like a bodybuilder, and Jia giggled.
   
Jill rolled her eyes and laughed. "Don't let it go to your head!"
   
Jia spoke to D in Cantonese. "He says that the 'bad lady' hurt his mother and sister."
   
"What bad lady?"
   
Jia and D talked for several minutes while Leon tried to conceal his impatience. Finally, D said, "You're not going to like this, Keiji-san. I believe that the 'bad lady' is some sort of ghost or spirit."
   
"What?!"
   
"Mr. Ling is a collector of fine art." The Count hesitated for a moment, glancing at the boy apologetically, then continued. "Ah, rumor has it that not all of it was acquired legally. In any case, he recently brought home a statue, about this high--" D held his hands about a foot apart. "--of a woman in 'funny clothes like the people in Mama's TV shows.' Mrs. Ling mentioned once that she was fond of the historical dramas on the Chinese television station."
   
"So, probably some piece of antique art?" asked Jill.
   
"Yes, he bought mostly Asian art, all of it old and expensive. I'm not sure if he really loved art, or if it was his way of showing off his wealth."
   
"What does all this have to do with the murders?" demanded Leon.
   
"I'm getting there. Jia says his father started acting strangely after he bought the statue. He kept it in his study, and he would lock himself in there at night, and Jia and his family would hear voices--like Mr. Ling was talking to someone, even though he was alone."
   
"Couldn't he be talking on the phone or something?"
   
"Jia said they could hear a woman's voice. Mrs. Ling confronted her husband about it, and he flew into a rage. Said it was none of her business, and slapped her."
   
"Abusive husband?" mused Jill. "That could be a motive."
   
"Jia said his father never hit his mother before." D paused to talk to the boy again. "It sounds like Mr. Ling was more distant than abusive. He mostly ignored them, except when he brought guests to the house. Then they were expected to behave like the perfect family. At any rate, after that incident, Jia says his father became even more reclusive, spending all night in the study, rarely leaving the house, or even the room. He says last night the statue came to life and attacked his mother."
   
"WHAT?!"
   
"Keiji-san! Do not frighten the child!"
   
Leon got himself under control with an effort. "Sorry. " He tried to smile at Jia, who was huddled against D's side. "But can you please explain?"
   
"He and his sister heard shouting. They saw a woman who looked just like the statue, in the same 'funny clothes,' screaming at their mother. Their father looked terrified, and was trying to calm down the woman, without success. The woman attacked their mother, clawing her with her nails. Wenli ran downstairs to try and protect their mother." D smiled sadly. "Apparently, she was a very brave girl. The woman hit her, and she fell down and didn't get up again. Jia ran to his room and hid under the bed. Which is where the police found him this morning."   
   
"And Ling? Does Jia know where he went?"
   
"He doesn't know. He stayed under the bed all night. He was afraid to come out, in case the 'bad lady' was still around."
   
"Hmm. He said the woman was yelling at his mother. Does he remember what she said?" asked Leon.
   
D translated, and the child replied. "She kept shouting something like, 'He belongs to me!'"
   
"Sounds like a jealous lover, not a ghost! Probably one of the mistresses you mentioned earlier. The part about her being the statue is probably just a frightened kid's imagination."
   
"She was dressed in old-fashioned robes, like those worn by noblewomen in China hundreds of years ago. He said she looked just like the statue."
   
"He was scared! His mind is playing tricks on him. Maybe she dressed a little funny, but she's not the only one." Leon looked pointedly at D's gown. "I'm sure she's flesh and blood, not a spirit!"
   
"I do not 'dress funny,'" grumbled D.
   
"We're detectives, not ghostbusters," said Jill gently. "All we can do is look at the evidence at hand. Even if ghosts existed, how could we find one, much less arrest it? We'll examine the crime scene, and talk to Ling's associates. And I promise we'll try to find out more about the statue. Even if it didn't come to life, maybe it played some role in his death. If he dealt in black-market art, maybe someone killed him for it. Or maybe he bought the statue because it reminded him of his mistress."
   
D smiled, somewhat mollified. "Beautiful, intelligent, and diplomatic! You could learn from your partner, Keiji-san."
   
Leon gritted his teeth, and for a change, did the diplomatic thing--he ignored D. "Is there a relative or someone the boy can stay with?"
   
D spoke to Jia, then translated the boy's answer. "His Auntie Wen. I believe that would be his mother's older sister, Wenjing Holt. She runs the American branch of her father's import-export business. The head office is located in San Francisco."
   
"Wenjing 'Holt'?" asked Leon.
   
"She is married to an American scholar, Simon Holt. His specialty is Chinese history. I believe he met his wife while he was studying abroad."
   
"How come you know so much about these people?" asked Leon suspiciously.
   
"Oh, I hear a great deal of gossip in Chinatown. Besides, the Wangs import many products from Asia--including cheongsams."
   
"I'll go see if I can get the Aunt's phone number," said Jill. "We need to notify the family anyway."




D looked after Jia while Jill went to track down the Aunt's phone number, and Leon went back to look over the crime scene. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the two were deep in conversation. Occasionally the boy would look at Leon and giggle. God only knows what the Count is telling the kid about me! thought Leon. Still, at least he was distracting the kid from his problems for a little while.
   
Leon searched the house, but found no sign of a statue like the one Jia had described. He did find Ling's address book and personal papers in the study. There were the names of what appeared to be business contacts, and canceled checks for bills, including several local art galleries. He noted that something called the "Jade Empress Lounge" showed up on Ling's credit card statements, to the tune of several hundred dollars per month.
   
Jill walked in. "I've got Mrs. Holt on the phone. It took awhile to track her down. She's in Hong Kong on business. Let's put her on speakerphone so we can both talk to her." She leaned over and punched a button on the phone on Ling's desk. "Mrs. Holt? This is my colleague, Detective Orcot. I know this is a bad time, but we need to ask you a few questions."
   
"I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Holt," said Leon.
   
"Thank you, Detective," Wenjing Holt replied softly, with a faint hint of a British accent in her voice. "Can you please tell me what happened to my sister? And where is my brother-in-law?" She sounded genuinely grief-stricken, but the tone of her voice sharpened on "brother-in-law." Hmm, thought Leon. No love lost there?
   
"There's no easy way to say this," said Jill gently. "She was murdered."
   
"How? Who? And where's Ling?!"
   
"We don't know where Mr. Ling is right now, and we are searching for him. We believe the suspect is a woman; we're still trying to find out who she is. As for how--" Jill hesitated.
   
"Please--I need to know how my sister died!" Mrs. Holt's voice broke. "I don't want to know...but I must!"
   
"Her throat was cut," said Jill softly. "And I'm afraid your niece was killed also. The killer struck her when she tried to protect her mother. She died instantly."
   
"Oh God!" Mrs. Holt broke down sobbing. They heard a male voice in the background, sounding concerned. "No, Simon," she gasped, "I'm...I'm all right." There were a few more soft sobs, then she said shakily, "Is Jiazhen...is he...?"
   
"He's fine, Mrs. Holt," said Leon. "He's frightened, but unharmed. A...friend of mine is looking after him right now."
   
"Thank God! I'll take the first flight back to America!"
   
"Is there anyone who can look after Jia till you get back, Mrs. Holt?" asked Jill. "A friend or a relative?"
   
Mrs. Holt sounded hesitant. "I...I don't know. Most of our family lives in Hong Kong."
   
"What about a friend or neighbor?"
   
"Meilin didn't really have any friends," said Wenjing Holt bitterly. "That husband of hers kept her locked up in that house most of the time. As if he were some sort of Emperor in ancient times! He looked down his nose at the neighbors--they weren't good enough for him and his family to associate with! As if he didn't start off as a nobody himself! I tried to visit her when I could...I think I was the only friend she really had." She started to weep softly again.
   
"I'm sorry to have to ask this," said Jill, "but the marriage was not a happy one?"
   
There was a long silence. Finally, Mrs. Holt said, "She was happy enough at first. It was an arranged marriage, but he was handsome and charming. While negotiating the marriage, he sent her gifts, fine dresses and jewelry. She thought the presents and pretty words meant that he cared for her. I didn't trust him, but my sister was too obedient to defy our father. Besides, she liked him and thought they could build a good life together. She didn't know that he didn't see her as a person, but as just another lovely ornament to grace his home."
   
"What do you mean?" asked Leon.
   
"The clothes and jewelry weren't tokens of affection. They were to make her look beautiful, just as he bought paintings and antique vases to make his home look beautiful. She meant no more to him than a vase or tapestry. In fact, I suspect he valued his art collection more. And of course he wanted an heir. Do you know the meaning behind my nephew's name? 'Jiazhen' means 'promoting family business'. All he really cares about is his business and his money! Jia is just another one of his possessions; he has the boy's life all mapped out--and God help him if it turns out he has no aptitude for or interest in the family business!"
   
"Mrs. Ling never considered a divorce?" asked Leon.
   
"No, my sister is...was...too old-fashioned for that. And besides, there were the children to think of...although I think they'd have been better off without a father like that! But I'm the rebellious one in the family."
   
"Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt your sister? Or of anyone who held a grudge against her husband?" asked Jill.
   
"I don't know of anyone who'd want to hurt Meilin! As for Ling...I don't know. He's made enemies--but someone who would kill? And why Meilin and Wenli?"
   
"Perhaps to hurt him by harming his family? Can you think of anyone, perhaps a business rival seeking revenge?"
   
There was another silence. "He recently did a hostile takeover of the Chow family's restaurant business. The Golden Lion chain. They had financial problems--he loaned them money, but took the business when they were late with the payments. Which was his intention from the start. The Chows were very bitter, but I don't think they'd resort to murder."
   
"We'll look into it, and into his other business dealings." Jill hesitated a moment. "Was Mr. Ling ever abusive towards his wife?"
   
"He never hit her, if that's what you mean. If he did I'd--!" She said something in Chinese the detectives couldn't understand, but from her tone, it was definitely something unpleasant. "Do you think he did it?!"
   
"We don't know, Mrs. Holt," said Jill. "We have to look at all the possibilities."
   
"Do you think he's capable of something like this?" asked Leon. "You sounded a bit suspicious of him yourself. And you said the marriage was an unhappy one."
   
"I said my sister was unhappy! He didn't give a damn about how she felt! He had a respectable wife, and children, a nice home and lots of money--he was quite happy!" Mrs. Holt paused. "I hate him, but I can't see any reason for him to kill my sister or his own daughter! But if he's responsible in any way, I'll kill him myself! Wait--didn't you say something about a woman being the murderer?"
   
"We're not sure...but your nephew saw a strange woman in the house," said Leon. "Do you know of any female business partners or, ah, um..."
   
"Lovers? Well, not 'lovers'--he wasn't capable of loving anyone! But I know he slept with other women--mostly women from some hostess bar. My sister was resigned to it. But he'd never bring one of those women into the house!"
   
"Any one woman in particular he was seeing?"
   
"Weren't you listening? He doesn't care about anyone--those women were playthings, that's all. He didn't care for them any more than he did for my sister. Please, can I go now? I need to book a flight back home."
   
"Yes, that's all for now, thank you, Mrs. Holt," said Jill. "Please call us as soon as you get here."
   
"Yes, of course! And--will you look after Jiazhen for me? You said you had a friend who was taking care of him?"
   
"Uh, yes," said Leon. "A Chinatown shopkeeper. He speaks Chinese, and Jia seems to like him."
   
"Who is it?" asked Mrs. Holt.
   
"Uh, well, his name is Count D..."
   
"Oh, Count D! I've heard of him...and Meilin said he was kind to her. I suppose that's all right. I'll be in as soon as I can!"
   
After Mrs. Holt had hung up, Jill turned to Leon and said, "Well, I suppose we'd better break the news to the Count that you've volunteered his services as a baby-sitter."
   
"Why is this my fault?! It was your idea to get him involved in the first place!"

Part 2
Part 3