Page 59 of Inventing Vivian

Zhang Wei nodded.

Inspector Graham scribbled something in his notebook.

“And you went for an evening visit to ensure privacy with Miss Pang?” Detective Lester asked.

He nodded again.

“What time did you arrive last night?”

“I don’t know, sir. After eight, I believe. The night was dark.”

Inspector Graham made another note.

“And you went directly to the Pangs’ apartment behind the store?” Detective Lester asked.

“No.” Zhang Wei shook his head. “I heard a loud noise—like a gunshot—and saw three men rush out of the store. I went inside to check on Mr. Pang.”

“What did you find?”

Zhang Wei’s face paled. “I found Mr. Pang on the floor.” He glanced toward the women, as if unsure whether to continue in their presence.

“Go on, sir.”

“He was dead. In his head was a bullet wound.”

Miss Kirby shifted in her chair.

Benedict glanced at her and saw that she watched Zhang Wei closely, her brows knit together as they did when she was thinking especially intently.

“What did you do?” the detective asked.

“I ran away.” Zhang Wei’s shoulders slumped in shame.

“Why did you run if you were innocent?” Inspector Graham asked.

“I don’t know...” He spoke quickly to Benedict in Chinese, his eyes begging for his friend to understand.

Benedict nodded, wishing he could offer some comfort. “He was frightened. Panicked.” He translated Zhang Wei’s words. “What if the men returned? What if they came after Miss Pang?”

“I ran to her apartment and told her to lock the door and hide. Then I sent a boy to fetch the police, and I ran to find Jinsè. He would know what to do.”

“Jinsè?” Detective Lester asked.

“Me,” Benedict said. “He came to find me.” A wave of sorrow crashed over him. His friend had trusted that he would fix this, and he was utterly powerless.

Sergeant Lester pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He unwrapped it, taking out a silk cord necklace attached by an elaborate knot to a jade bead and a porcelain tile. He laid it on the table.

The others leaned forward for a closer look. The tile was painted in a Chinese style, and Benedict recognized the traditional image of cranes. The birds’ necks were long and elegant, portrayed with simple strokes. Though the others would not understand the symbolism, it was clear to Benedict. Cranes symbolized longevity and harmony. This was a love token.

“Does this trinket look familiar?” Detective Lester asked.

Zhang Wei nodded.

“If you didn’t rob the Pangs’ store, how did you come by this?” the detective asked.

“It was a gift,” Zhang Wei said. His eyes lingered on the necklace. “Miss Pang is an artist. She made it for me.”

Detective Lester took a paper from the folder and looked it over, setting it on the table. The top half was covered in Chinese characters, with English words at the bottom. It was too far away for Benedict to make out the details. “Two jade horses were stolen from the shop. Their value is above five hundred pounds each. Have you any idea what happened to them?”

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