Page 16 of Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers

Oliver shakes his head. “Marshall was allergic to quite a few things. Beestings, peanuts, almonds, feathers—one time, our mom got this secondhand goose-down duvet, and I remember she was so pleased because they’re usually so expensive—”

Vera nods. “Ah yes, what a good find. Good woman, your mother.”

“The best,” Oliver says with a wan smile. “Anyway, Marshall and I still shared a bed at the time and that night, I remember hearing this awful noise. It was like he was trying to breathe through a thin straw. It was horrible. I woke up and tried to shake him awake, but all he did was continue doing that whistling breath, and I started screaming and crying, and our parents barged into our room and got him his inhaler, and then they had to rush him to the hospital; his face was all swollen and his hands—” Oliver shudders. “His fingers were like sausages, all red and swollen, the skin was so tightly stretched. I thought they would burst. He had a rash for days afterward, even after the swelling went away.”

“Hmm.” Vera scratches her chin. “Interesting. Well, this is all very helpful, Oliver. Thank you, I have a good list of suspects.”

“What?”

“Nothing concrete enough to show you, but—” She shifts in her seat and takes out her phone. “You put your number in there, and I will call you once I find killer.”

“Uh...” He tries to think of a million reasons to say no, but when he glances at Vera’s kind but also razor-sharp expression, he knows anything he comes up with would be futile. So Oliver keys in his number, all the while wondering just what the hell he’s gotten himself into. He gets the feeling he’s going to regret stepping inside Vera Wang’s World-Famous Teahouse for a long time to come.

NINE

RIKI

After the second consecutive missed call, Riki’s phone gives up on silent mode and starts wailing. The noise slices through his nightmare-filled sleep in which little Adi is shouting, “Kakak, when can I come to America too? Why have you left me behind?” and Riki wakes up in a pool of sweat, heart thudding and mouth dry. He paws his bedside table for his phone, unplugs it, and goes, “Adi? What’s wrong?”

But instead of Adi’s, a woman’s voice comes out. “Riki? Are you still asleep?”

Riki blinks blearily, trying to clear his sleep-fogged mind. “Who’s this?”

“It’s Vera.”

Nope, the name isn’t—

Oh. Right, Vera. The little old lady from the tea shop. Why the hell is she calling him at—Riki glances at his watch—what the hell? It’s only 7:32 a.m. That can’t be right. His heart suddenly revsup again, before his mind catches up. She must be calling because something is very, very wrong. “Vera, what happened?”

“Well, I have been checking the Buzzfeed, you know, and I don’t see your article anywhere! And I think to myself, ah, since it’s not up yet, maybe I still have time to give you some important detail to put in your article.”

It takes a moment for Riki to figure out just what in the world Vera is talking about. The Buzzfeed? Oh, right. He stupidly told her he’s from Buzzfeed when he met her yesterday. Oh god. He massages his forehead. Why had he said that? “Uh, right,” he mumbles.

“For example, make sure you mention my shop address. It’s important that people know where to find me, yes? And also, you didn’t take pictures of my shop yesterday. Do you forget to? I have put on more makeup today, and my hair is looking very nice, so come by and take photos of me and my teas, okay? You know, I read that articles that have plenty of pictures are the ones that do best. You reporters, you’re given a bonus if your article goes viral, right?”

Are reporters given bonuses based on how many clicks their articles get? Riki has no idea, but he could conceivably see that happening. He nods, then realizes Vera can’t see him, and says, “Yeah...?”

“Ah, well, there you go. Come here, take many photos of me, take photos of the body outline too, that’ll be good for the article.”

“Um, now? It’s not even eight o’clock yet.” Riki had gone to bed at two in the morning and he feels like he could use another five hours of sleep.

“Aiya, the early morning light is best for photographs, how doyou not know that? No wonder none of your article has gone viral yet. Get up, young people should not be sleeping their youth away. Take a shower and come here for breakfast, there’s a good boy.” With that, she hangs up, leaving Riki blinking at his phone, half wondering if the call actually happened or if it had been a dream.

He lies back down, and as soon as his head hits the pillow, the flashback attacks.

You listen to me, you slimy piece of shit. Pay me, Marshall, or I will fucking kill you.

The animal rage in his own voice is so palpable it turns the words almost physical.I will fucking kill you.

Riki shoots straight up in bed, breathing hard. He rubs his face several times, trying to shake away the flashback. He’s never lost his temper like that before. Never, not once in his lifetime, not even when he was a hormonal teen and Adi was annoying the shit out of him. Not even when he found his college roommate in bed with Riki’s then girlfriend. But Marshall had reached deep into Riki’s subconscious and triggered some kind of fight-or-flight response and Riki’s fury had been so strong he had scared himself. And now Marshall is dead. Why in the world did Riki even go to Vera’s tea shop? If anything, he should go to Marshall’s house, or maybe Marshall’s office, to find what he’s been looking for this whole time. But no, he’d gone to Vera Wang’s World-Famous Teahouse, and now here he is, having to go round to her shop and pretend to be a reporter.

The thought of keeping Vera waiting is somehow terrifying, so against all his survival instincts, Riki gets up and takes a cold shower in the hope of sharpening his mind. When he gets dressed, he notices that his fingers are trembling slightly, fumbling a littlewith the buttons of his shirt.There’s nothing to be nervous about, he reminds himself.You did nothing wrong. Nothing at all.

Problem is, he’s never been any good at lying to himself.

•••

Back in Indonesia, Riki’s parents had taught him to never show up at someone’s house without bringing a gift, so before arriving at Vera’s, Riki stops by at the French bakery next door. He has no idea what Vera would like, so just to be safe, he gets an assortment of pastries, both sweet and savory. He tells the nice old lady manning the store that he loves French food, which seems to please her greatly.

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