Five pieces of jade

CHAPTER 5

After he had enjoyed a good night's rest, Virgil Tibbs felt much more ready to take on the problems of the world in general and those connected with the death of Wang Fu-sen in particular. At the same time he wished a little fervently that people could learn to behave themselves. They set up laws of their own making and then seemed determined to break them all on a systematic basis. Sometimes it was nothing more than pushing the speed limit a few miles per hour, but it also included the elimination of an unwanted person by cold and permanent murder.

From his oflSce he phoned up to Chief McGowan to tell him that the murder of the Chinese jade merchant looked like a sticky one, bad enough that he could not see his way clear to extend much cooperation to the Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs until it had been cleaned up. Bob McGowan understood and promised to pass the word on to the federal authorities.

When that had been done, Bob Nakamura, his office mate who had been patiently waiting to get in a word of his own, had news. "The jury is back," he reported. "You've got a conviction."

Tibbs was grimly satisfied. "On the third try. Is he going to the joint?"

"Five years, I'd guess."

"I just hope now that he doesn't get out again in eighteen months on parole. There are still too many little girls in this town who don't always have adult protection."

"I know," Nakamura said. "Another thing: the preliminary print report on the Chinese murder-nothing. The victim himself and a young woman who is Hving in the house showed up-that's all. Incidentally, I understand that she's Japanese."

"Yes, but she doesn't know it," Tibbs answered. "She gave me the word for it. Her father was a Negro GI."

"Was it ainokoT

"That sounds right."

The bespectacled, crew-cut. Babbitt-looking Nisei detective turned around in his chair to face his partner. "Virg, she belongs to a group that's had it exceptionally tough. Most of the Japanese will reject her completely. You can judge how far she would be welcomed into the Negro community."

Virgil shook his head. "Not very far," he conceded. "Same old story; she's too different."

"Exactly. For her there's no easy place to go, because nobody really wants her."

Tibbs picked up a pencil and studied it as he spoke. "I've only seen her once, and at a bad time for her, but she impressed me as having some pretty fair assets."

"Could you call her attractive?"

"Why not." He put down the pencil. "As a person, mind you. She was pretty damn unhappy when I interviewed her, but under different circumstances she might have considerable appeal. Admittedly I wasn't considering her particularly in that light when we were talking."

"How about it?" Nakamura asked. "Was she playing concubine to the late lamented?"

Virgil picked up the pencil once more and then tossed it down. "I'll cover a bet against that," he said firmly. "It just wasn't in the atmosphere. And the deceased was an old man. I know that can be a fooler, but I still won't buy it."

"Anything I can do to help?"

Tibbs stood up. "Yes, call the morgue and make sure that the cause of death isn't presumed too readily because of the stone knife that was in the decedent's chest. locidental-ly, I suspect that it's quite valuable in addition to being important evidence."

He did some hard thinking as he drove his official car through the familiar streets to his destination. He did not propose to take up the study of jade, but he did not like to feel that his ignorance of the subject might prove to be a handicap. He decided to get hold of one good book on the subject and read it just in case. While jade collecting did not go with a policeman's salary, an understanding of that exotic subject could be rewarding in itself.

As he pulled up outside the still carefully shuttered house he expected that Yumeko would be there, but he was not

sure exactly what he was going to say to her. When he rang the bell she answered almost immediately and held the door open for him to come in. "Good morning, Mr. Tibbs," she said.

"Good morning, Miss Nagashima."

"It is Yumeko," she said very simply.

He smiled at her. "Then in that case it's Virgil."

He followed her into the house and sat down on invitation in the same room that they had occupied before. "Are you feeling any better now?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, I thank you. My employer, Mr. Tanaka, was very kind. He has excused me after only one day to be here."

"Are you sure that you're all right, and will be after we have finished here?"

"Yes."

He waited for more, but she had nothing to add.

"Yumeko, it is my job to find out who killed Mr. Wang. Would you like to see me succeed?"

She lifted her head a little and looked at him. "Yes, very much."

"Then I want you to answer some questions for me- even if it's hard. There are many things I have to know."

"Please ask."

He tried to make his voice sympathetic without being sticky about it. "Let's begio with Mr. Wang's relatives. Did he have any in this country that you know of?"

She shook her head. "He said once to me that he was alone here. He had a younger brother, but he is in communist China. If he is still alive. Mr. Wang did not know."

"Was he married at any time?"

"I only know that he spoke of his daughter once. In this country that would make him have a wife also. In China perhaps not."

"I understand. Do you know where she is?"

"Also in China, I think. He did not say for sure."

"All of the jade in this house, it was his?"

"Yes, aU his."

"It must be worth a fortune."

"I think yes."

"Yumeko, did he ever speak to you about a wUl?"

This time she shook her head and remained silent

"Then as far as you know, Mr. Wang had no living relatives in this country or in any other part of the free world."

"That is yes," she answered. 36

"Do you know if he had an attorney?"

"Yes, Mr. Finegold. He is also a buyer of the jade."

*'Yumeko, was jade-selling Mr. Wang's full-time occupation?"

He saw confusion on her face and tried to put it another way. "Did he do any other work? Or did he have enough money to meet his needs? Do you know?"

The girl looked at him a little strangely for a moment. "It is the jade-selling that was his work," she answered. "He also was not poor, but it was the jade that he loved."

"Did many customers come to see him?"

*'A few. Much he sold by mail. He would send pictures and the people trusted him. He would then mail the jade if they bought it. If pieces were very valuable, he would sometimes make a messenger."

"Is there a file of Mr. Wang's customers?"

"Yes, of course. I kept it for him while I was here."

Then, visibly, she seemed to think of something. She looked quickly at the ceiling for a moment, then back at Tibbs. "I made a mistake," she said. "The jade here, it was not all Mr. Wang's. One piece was not his; he had selled it to Mr. Harvey. When the TV said that Mr. Wang was dead, Mr. Harvey called me very soon: he now wants his jade."

Virgil weighed that. Harvey's action, whoever he was, had been inconsiderate, but if he had paid a substantial price, then he had a right to protect his investment and his purchase. "Where does Mr. Harvey hve?" he asked.

Yumeko raised a hand and brushed her midnight-black hair back from her deep-toned face. "It is a place called Sierra Madre."

"Would you like me to deliver the jade to him?"

For the first time since they had met he saw animation in her features. "You would do this for me?"

"Of course." He saw no need to explain that he wanted to interview some more of Mr. Wang's nearby customers and that this provided him with a very convenient opportunity.

Yumeko got up. "Come, please," she said. "I will prepare it in its box."

"I'll give you a receipt for it," Tibbs volunteered. "And I'll get one from Mr. Harvey. It may be important for you to have it."

She did not reply to that; instead she led the way toward the back of the house. Unconsciously he compared her

walk to that of the Chinese girl who had ushered him into General Lee's to see Johnny Wu. Yumeko was graceful, but in a quite different way. The Chinese girl had been an inch and a half taller and definitely more slender. Yumeko was very well proportioned, but with a slight fullness in the bosom and a trace in the hips which could be attributed to her father's genes.

At the door to the jade room she hesitated for a scant moment before she pressed the light switch and then passed inside. The body had been removed and the pieces of jade which had been standing around it on the carpeting had been picked up and placed together back in the display case from which they had been taken. But on the rich red of the velvet-pile carpeting there was a chalk outline which conjured up with too vivid imagery the still, silent figure that had lain there the day before.

Carefully avoiding that spot, Yumeko opened the bottom section of one of the cabinets and reached inside. After some groping she produced a small packet of keys. As she stood up, she explained. "Mr. Wang always he kept the keys to the jade cabinets, but there was this extra set if it became necessary."

She unlocked the glass door of one of the cabinets on the left side of the room and with cautious care removed a pale green figure of a standing Chinese beauty. The eight-inch-high statuette held a tray on which were displayed several pieces of miniature fruit. A slight discoloration in the original stone had been cunningly utilized by the sculptor to make one of the fruit pieces different from the rest, a reddish yellow contrast which accentuated the whole work. As Yumeko stood it in the middle of the center table, the tiny concealed. spotlight in the ceiling illuminated it in a way that almost made it come to life.

Tibbs did not want even to touch it, but as he bent down to examine it more closely the exquisite craftsmanship fascinated him. It had a delicate, subtle grace which seemed to deny the possibility that it had been carved out of a single hard, cold piece of a rare and costly stone. At that moment the prospect of learning a little about jade became much more appealing. He knew that the piece before him must be very expensive, but he was unable even to guess at its dollar value.

From under the display portion of the cabinet Yumeko took out a small stack of blue cloth-covered boxes and began to sort them on the floor. She quickly found the one 38

she wanted and replaced the others. Placing it on the table, she opened it to reveal its carefully padded, satin-lined interior and lovingly placed the jade figurine on the preformed cushion. It fitted precisely into the indentation that had been prepared for it. The httle carved wooden stand nested in its own prepared slot at the bottom. Against the snow-white cloth the jade beauty seemed more exquisite than ever.

"Does each jade have its own special box?" Tibbs asked.

"Yes-almost always." Yumeko closed the lid and slipped the ivory pins into position. "If you will give this into the hands of Mr. Harvey," she said. "You will do Mr. Wang and me a great kindness. I will give you the address."

As she went to get it for him, Virgil carefully wrote in his notebook and then tore out the page. When Yumeko returned he handed her his receipt for the valuable jade. "That was not necessary," she said. "I honor your face."

Tibbs shook his head. "We must be especially careful now," he told her. "I'll get a receipt from Mr. Harvey. It's the only proper way when valuable property is involved."

She accepted that. "You will come back?" she asked.

Virgil glanced at her for a moment, but it had been a simple inquiry and nothing more. "Yes, I'U be back." He took the address from her, memorized it, and then put the slip of paper into his pocket. That done, he picked up the jade box, and carrying it carefully, went out to his car.

A little under a half hour later he pressed the doorbell belonging to a residence clearly in one of the highest categories that Sierra Madre had to offer. Ordinarily he would have made an appointment; this time he was doing things a little differently. In Yumeko's references to Mr. Harvey he had detected a hesitant note; he wanted to know why it had been there.

The man who answered his ring came close to supplying an answer by his appearance alone. He was an inch over six feet tall, and quite lean. His presence in the doorway was like a cold wind. "Yes?" he asked.

"Mr. Harvey?"

The door was beginning to close slightly when Tibbs detected a change; the man confronting him glanced down for the first time and saw the box in his hands. The door swung wider. "Come in," he said, but there was no invitation in his voice-only a basic command.

Virgil walked into the foyer and confirmed that the interior of the house was as splendidly furnished as the exterior had suggested. A rich, thick white carpeting covered

a vast area of living room and extended around one open end into another room. In another day it could have been a morning room, but the end of a billiards table was visible and also part of an elaborate bar.

"I'll take it," Harvey said, and did so literally before Tibbs could hand the box over. He put it on a small table, opened it, and then examined the stone carving for a few seconds in uninterrupted silence. Then he put it back almost carelessly into its box. "Thank you," he said. "You can go."

"I'd like to speak to you for a few minutes if I may," Tibbs said.

Harvey was curt, "I'm sorry, I never give out information on the market."

"I was not about to ask for any."

"I make no donations."

"Not interested," Tibbs said.

"And most emphatically I do not subscribe to magazines at the door."

"Nor do I."

"Then precisely who are you?"

"A police officer, Mr. Harvey. I brought out your jade as a favor to Miss Nagashima. Now may we talk for a little while?"

The pronounced chill was still in the air. "You have credentials?"

"Certainly." As he preferred to do, Virgil produced a calling card. His reluctant host looked at it and then spoke. "We are not in Pasadena now."

"I'm quite aware of that, sir," Tibbs answered dryly. He did not elaborate.

"Very well, then." Harvey led the way to the nearest place where they could both sit and indicated by the way that he adjusted himself that he expected the interview to be a brief one.

It was Virgil's baU and he picked it up. "Mr. Harvey, I am the officer assigned to investigate the death of Mr. Wang, the gentleman from whom you purchased the jade I just deUvered. I believe you are aware that he lost his life under somewhat unusual circumstances?"

"According to the news reports, he was stabbed to death with a stone knife-a relic of some kind."

Tibbs continued. "How well did you know him, sir?"

"He was a merchant with whom I dealt."

"How would you describe his personality?"

"I didn't concern myself particularly with it He had cer-40

tain things for sale in which I was interested. Those I liked enough I purchased. That was the sum and substance of it."

*'I see. What is your line of work, Mr. Harvey?"

"Investments."

"Do you mean by that that you are a broker or counselor?"

"No, I am a professional trader. Do you understand me?"

"I believe so." Tibbs glanced at his watch. "Am I keeping you from your work? The market will be open another hour and a quarter, I believe."

Harvey studied him for a moment. "The market is very static today," he answered. "K anything at all breaks, my broker will call me."

Virgil probed a little. "Mr. Harvey, in your financial transactions, do you normally have access to industrial information which guides you in your decisions?"

If Harvey had shown any signs of relaxing his manner, he remedied the defect. His voice was from the Alaskan North Slope. "I do not. I simply take advantage of the amateurism of many small investors who have no clear understanding of what they are doing. Suppose you had bought Occidental Petroleum, for example, when it was in the low forties and then sold it in desperation when it dropped down to around fifteen in mid-1970; under those circumstances you would have lost a great deal of money. Thousands did. Their losses for the mot part went to professional traders who had sold Oxy short. I was one of them. As long as inexperienced people think that they can play the market and profit, with limited finances and less knowledge, I will continue to make a very good living taking advantage of their weaknesses."

"That's very impressive, Mr. Harvey."

"Perhaps, but I fail to see how it will help you in your investigation."

Virgil crossed his legs and took out his notebook. "Mr. Harvey, when was the last time that you saw Mr. Wang alive?"

"Perhaps a week ago, I don't recall exactly."

"During the afternoon?"

"If you know, why ask me?"

Tibbs looked up. "I was assuming, sir, that you would stay close to your phone during market hours."

Harvey allowed the point. "Very well, it was in the afternoon. I now recall that it was six days ago."

"And you made the purchase that I just delivered to you at that time?"

"Yes."

"I presume, sir, that in view of the value of the jade and the extensive stock that Mr. Wang had, you took some time in making your selection."

"No," Harvey almost snapped. "I never require time to make up my mind. That is one of the basic principles for success in the market."

Tibbs refused to be ruffled. "Had you seen the piece that you purchased previously?"

"If I had, I would have bought it at that time. Will there be anything else?"

"Only one thing more, Mr. Harvey. If it is convenient, I would very much like to see your jade collection. I'm developing an interest in the subject."

There was a measured pause. "Do you consider this to be part of your investigation?"

"I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

"Very well, then." Harvey rose. "Come with me."

He led the way around the comer of the L-shaped room and then into a den which was equipped with an electronic desk calculator. Books on financial subjects filled one wall. On the opposite side of the small room a glass-fronted case was mounted at eye level; in it a dozen jade pieces were displayed. The carvings stood in a geometric arrangement, equally spaced, facing uniformly forward. Mr. Wang had placed his in a less regular way and some of them had been turned a few degrees one way or the other. The precision in this cabinet, Tibbs noted, reflected the mind and habits of the man who had put the pieces where they were.

Virgil studied the display for a minute or two and then announced himself as satisfied. "If I may have a receipt for the jade I delivered to you," he said, "I will be on my way."

Harvey seated himself at his desk and with a pen scribbled on a slip of paper. As soon as he had handed it over he led the way briskly to the front door and showed Tibbs out with the least amount of ceremony that the situation permitted. As the door was closing the phone began to ring.

As he drove back into Pasadena Virgil went over the interview he had just had. That done, he turned his thoughts to the girl who was living, alone now, in Mr. Wang's home. Her problem was a profoundly difficult one. Time might be the only cure-time in which she might mellow somewhat, 42

but more importantly, time in which society might come a little closer to evaluating people for what they were and not for their origins.

He stopped across from the house and noted the still tightly closed draperies that masked the front windows. As he approached the front door he was mildly surprised to find Yumeko waiting for him. The portal was half open and the girl herself was largely hidden behind it. When he was on the step she opened it wider to admit him and accepted the receipt that he handed her. She took it in her fingers but did not even glance at it; instead, her eyes were on his face and serious concern was written across her features. "I am glad that you have returned," she said.

The conclusion was obvious, but he asked anyway. "Has something happened?"

She led him silently into the living room and once more sank into the same chair. As Tibbs seated himself where he too had been before, she turned worried eyes on him. "Two men came," she said. "Also policemen. They asked me many, many questions."

Virgil did not like that; this was his case and if any of the other boys wanted to interview one of the principals, they should have cleared it with him first. "Did they give you a hard time?" he asked, his voice grim.

Slowly Yumeko shook her head. "Not hard. They were polite. But very persistent. They said they are coming back. I was frightened."

"Who were they?" Virgil demanded.

"Mr. Lonigan and Mr. Duffy," she answered.