Ed McBain - The Last Brief

‘Did Gotham Lobster call you this morning?’

‘No.’

‘When did Gotham call you?’

‘Yes’day. We take one ba’l. One ba’l small.’

‘Who did you speak to at Gotham?’

‘Ma’y Chang.’

And on to the next place, and the same round of questions, and always no luck, always no call from Gotham or Mary Chang. And then we hit a place on the Grand Concourse where the waiter opened the door promptly. We told him what we wanted, and he hurried off to the back of the restaurant while we waited by the cash register. A young Chinese in an immaculate blue suit came out to us in about five minutes. He smiled and shook hands and then said, ‘I’m David Loo. My father owns the restaurant. May I help you?’

He was a good-looking boy of about twenty, I would say. He spoke English without a trace of singsong. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with a blue-and-silver striped silk tie. A small Drama Masks tie-clasp held the tie to the shirt.

‘I’m Detective Parker, and this is my partner, Detective Katz. Do you know Mary Chang?’

‘Chang? Mary, Chang? Why, no, I... oh, do you mean the girl who calls from Gotham Lobster?’

‘Yes, that’s her. Do you know her?’

‘Oh yes, certainly.’

‘When did you see her last?’

‘See her?’ David Loo smiled. ‘I’m afraid I’ve never seen her. I spoke to her on the phone occasionally, but that was the extent of our relationship.’

‘I see. When did you speak to her last?’

‘This morning.’

‘What time was this?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Early this morning.’

‘Can you try to pinpoint the time?’

David Loo shrugged. ‘Nine, nine-fifteen, nine-thirty. I really don’t know.’ He paused. ‘Has Miss Chang done something?’

‘Can you give us a closer time than that, Mr. Loo? Mary Chang was poisoned this morning, and it might be...’

‘Poisoned? My God!’

‘Yes. So you see, any help you can give us would be appreciated.’

‘Yes, yes, I can understand that. Well, let me see. I came to the restaurant at about... nine-ten it was, I suppose. So she couldn’t have called at nine, could she?’ David Loo smiled graciously, as if he were immensely enjoying this game of murder. ‘I had some coffee, and I listened to the radio back in the kitchen, and...’ Loo snapped his fingers. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘She called right after that.’

‘Right after what?’

‘Well, I listen to music a lot, and WNEW is a good station for music.’

‘Go on.’

‘Well, they have a newsbreak every hour on the half-hour. I remember the news coming on at nine-thirty, and then as the newscaster signed off, the phone rang. That must have been at nine-thirty-five. The news takes five minutes, you see. As a matter of fact, I always resent that intrusion on the music. If a person likes music, it seems unfair...’

‘And the phone rang at nine-thirty-five, is that right?’

‘Yes, sir, I’m positive.’

‘Who answered the phone?’

‘I did. I’d finished my coffee.’

‘Was it Mary Chang calling?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She said, “Gotham Lobster, good morning.” I said good morning back to her — she’s always very pleasant on the phone — and...’

‘Wasn’t she pleasant off the phone?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t know. I only spoke to her on the phone.’

‘Go on.’

‘She gave me a quotation then and asked if I’d like some nice lobster.’

‘Was this in Chinese?’

‘Yes. I don’t know why she spoke Chinese. Perhaps she thought I was the chef

‘What did you do then?’

‘I asked her to hold on, and then I went to find the chef. I asked the chef if he needed any lobster, and he said we should take a half-barrel. So I went back to the phone. But Miss Chang was gone by that time.’ Loo shrugged. ‘We had to order our lobsters from another outfit. Shame, too, because Gotham has some good stuff.’

‘Did you speak to her in English at all?’

‘No. All Chinese.’

‘I see. Is that customary? I mean, do you usually check with the chef after she gives her quotation?’

‘Yes, of course. The chef is the only one who’d know. Sometimes, of course, the chef himself answers the phone. But if he doesn’t, we always leave the phone to check with him.’

‘And you didn’t speak to her in English at all?’

‘No, sir.’

‘And you didn’t know her, other than through these phone conversations?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Ever have breakfast with her?’ Donny asked.

‘Sir?’

‘Did you ever...’

‘No, of course not. I told you I didn’t know her personally.’

‘All right, Mr. Loo, thank you very much. We may be back.’

‘Please feel free to return,’ he said a little coldly.

We left the restaurant, and outside Donny said, ‘So?’

‘So now we know who she was speaking to. What do you think of him?’

‘Educated guy. Could conceivably run in the same circles as a Columbia student. And if he did poison her this morning and then tell her about it on the phone, it’s a cinch he’d lie his goddamn head off.

‘Sure. Let’s check Miss Chang’s residence. Someone there might know whether or not Loo knew her better than he says he did.’

Mary Chang, when she was alive, lived at International House near the Columbus campus, on Riverside Drive. Her roommate was a girl named Frieda who was a transfer student from Vienna. The girl was shocked to learn of Miss Chang’s death. She actually wept for several moments, and then she pulled herself together when we started questioning her.

‘Did she have any boyfriends?’

‘Yes. A few.’

‘Do you know any of their names?’

‘I know all of their names. She always talked about them.’

‘Would you let us have them, please.’

Frieda reeled off a list of names, and Donny and I listened. Then Donny asked, ‘A David Loo? Did he ever come around?’

‘No, I don’t think so. She never mentioned a David Loo.’

‘Never talked about him at all?’

‘No.’

‘That list you gave us — all Chinese names. Did she ever date any American boys?’

‘No. Mary was funny that way. She didn’t like to go out with Americans. I mean, she liked the country and all, but I guess she figured there was no future in dating Occidentals.’ Frieda paused. ‘She was a pretty girl, Mary, and a very happy one, always laughing, always full of life. A lot of American boys figured her for... an easy mark, I suppose. She... sensed this. She wouldn’t date any of them.’

‘Did they ask her?’

‘Oh, yes, all the time. She was always very angry when an American asked her for a date. It was sort of an insult to her. She... she knew what they wanted.’

‘Where’d she eat breakfast?’

‘Breakfast?’

‘Yes. Where’d she eat? Who’d she eat with?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t remember ever seeing her eat breakfast.’

‘She didn’t eat breakfast?’

‘I don’t think so. We always left here together in the morning. I have a job, too, you see. I work at Lord and Taylor’s. I’m...’

‘Yes, you left here together?’

‘To take the subway. She never stopped to eat.’

‘Coffee?’ I asked. ‘An English muffin? Something?’

‘No, not when I was with her.’

‘I see. What subway did you take?’

‘The Broadway line.’

‘Where did she get off?’

‘At 72nd Street.’

‘What time did she get off the subway usually?’

‘At about nine, or maybe a few minutes before. Yes, just about nine.’

‘But she didn’t stop for breakfast.’

‘No. Mary was very slim, very well-built. I don’t think she ate breakfast in the morning.’