Page 30 of Last Violent Call
A few coins lighter and a rose bouquet acquired, Roma proceeded down the canal again, keeping his head forward this time to avoid being summoned by any more elderly shopkeepers looking for company. Try as he did to stay focused on his search, he had barely proceeded onto the next turn when he almost collided with Mrs. Ding, who ran the fish stall at the markets.
“Hello, lad,” she said. “What are you in such a rush for?”
Roma looked at the flowers in his hand.
“It’s my wife’s birthday,” he lied on the spot. “The postman was supposed to bring a gift today, but he is taking far too long to arrive. Have you seen him?”
“Sure.” Mrs. Ding pointed behind her. “He was at the Plum Blossom Teahouse just then.”
“Ding tàitài, you are a blessing to the world.” He sidled past her on the thin walkway. “I will be bringing gifts for you tomorrow too.”
The Plum Blossom Teahouse was two left turns and one canal away. This time he really did need to ignore the two elderly women who called out from their stores, then the clump of kids playing a marble game. Roma paused for the barest moment, nostalgic at the very sight, but he forced himself back on task.
He ran off the last bridge he crossed. Came to a pause a few feet away from the Plum Blossom Teahouse, then watched the postman step off its front ledge, waving goodbye to the hostess he had beenchatting with.
Roma picked up his pace. With his eyes pinned on the postman, he followed him for a considerable few seconds, taking inventory of their surroundings. It wasn’t until they passed an offshoot path—one which led toward the back doors of several shops—that Roma lunged forward and grabbed the postman’s collar with his left hand, shoving him into the path and slamming him hard into the wall. His post bag full of letters made a densethwack!against the bricks.
“Don’t yell,” Roma warned immediately. “Sometime this morning, you made a delivery for the house by the outermost canal in Zhouzhuang. Next to the large weeping willow tree. Do you remember?”
The postman was trembling under Roma’s hold. This was a different worker from the man who had been delivering around the main canals last week, younger. Juliette usually collected their mail, so Roma didn’t know if this man was new or if he just hadn’t paid enough attention to the usual faces bringing their envelopes.
“Y-yes, I remember.”
“Good,” Roma said. “Then do you remember what you delivered? There was a blank envelope mixed in there. Why did you put it with the others?”
The postman’s lip wobbled. Roma waited, counting to three in his head before shaking the man’s collar, and he relented immediately.
“I was asked! Someone gave me the envelope just before I left the post office at dawn.” The postman flinched, trying to press his head into the wall to get away. “He… he looked a little like you, actually. Slightly foreign. Spoke Chinese well, though.”
“Russian accent?” Roma confirmed.
“I—I would wager yes. Stronger than yours. You don’t have one.”
“Yes, well, I was born here.” Roma let go of the postman. He pondered for a moment. “Do you have any idea who he was?”
The postman swallowed hard. Though he had been released, he didn’t move, as if he were afraid Roma might attack again on the slightest provocation. Roma hadn’t even grabbed him that hard to begin with.
“I don’t know. B-but, uh, he has been to the post office enough times that I did recognize his face. Actually, one moment…”
Eagerly, he plunged a hand into his bag, sifting through a large wad of envelopes. Roma watched him search, eyeing each stamped corner he flipped through until he brought one out.
“Here—his return address, on the back. I think this is merely a shopping catalogue order, so he gave them to me together.”
Roma plucked the envelope from the postman’s hand, flipping it over fast. The address wasn’t far from here. A short drive.
“I hope there are no hard feelings,” Roma said, clapping the postman on the shoulder. The postman recoiled with fright, but Roma was already running for the main road, an envelope in one hand and the bouquet of roses still in the other.
Juliette was waiting by the road, leaning up against the township’s main gate. Her eyes widened when she saw him approach, taking in his disheveled appearance.
“You found him?”
“Get in the car,” Roma instructed in answer, tipping his chin toward the gravel lot beyond the gate, where their vehicle was parked. “We have an address. Oh, and…” He gave her the flowers. “These are for you.”
12
“How do we want to do this?”
Juliette was busy burying her face in the flowers, inhaling the sweet scent. “Guns blazing?”
