in the pastries.
“Okay, I get it.” He sipped his mammoth coffee. “So what’s the plan?”
“We have no plan. Mary has people keeping an eye on Mr. Chen and other people keeping an eye on the White Eagles. I’m obediently staying out of it, even though both leads came from me. If the police department gives a civilian medal of honor, I think I should get one.”
“For leads, or obedience?”
“Both.”
“So we’re just here for breakfast?”
“You don’t like the coffee?”
“It’s great. And this cream horn is even better.”
“Don’t even tell me about that thing.”
“And if Wong Pan shows up?”
“If he does, I want to . . .”
He gave me a moment, then prompted, “You want to what?”
“See him. I just want to see him.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m lying.”
Across the street, sunlight flashed off the door at Bright Hopes as Irene Ng stepped outside to inspect the window display.
“I wonder if Chen’s in there?” Bill said.
“I would really, really like to go over and find out.”
“Tell me again how long you and Mary have been best friends?”
“Okay, all right,” I grumbled. I sipped tea and watched the comings and goings. I was trying to convince myself the chewy dough and spicy sweet filling of my red bean bun were enough compensation for being forced to sit on the sidelines when Bill nudged me.
“There’s your cousin.”
And damned if Armpit Kwan wasn’t slouching up the other side of the street. His greasy hair flopped over his forehead, and if he’d changed his shirt since yesterday, it only proved his entire wardrobe was equally spattered and disgusting.
“Those two guys,” I said. “The one next to him and the one who just stopped at the noodle cart? They’re White Eagles, too.”
“Big deal ones?”
“I don’t think so. Junior nobodies, like Armpit. I wonder where Fishface is. Or his lieutenants.”
We watched Armpit and his boys meander. They stuck to that block but didn’t pay much attention to Bright Hopes. They smoked, they ate, they ogled girls.
“Must be waiting for the boss to show up,” Bill said.
I agreed; if this was the White Eagles’s big score, nothing would happen without their dai lo.
“That guy with the map, by the mailbox.” Bill pointed. “Fifty cents says he’s a cop.”
“And the man selling folded-paper animals. And the Xpress Messenger van, which doesn’t seem interested in expressing anything and isn’t getting a ticket after twenty minutes in a no-standing zone.”
“Well, everyone’s ready.”
I grabbed his arm. “Maybe not for everything.”
Making his way along the sidewalk was C. D. Zhang, carrying a leather briefcase. He entered Bright Hopes, where Irene Ng led him toward the back. She returned to the counter alone. C. D. Zhang must be in the office with his cousin, Mr. Chen, and I’d have bet a nickel his brother, Zhang Li, was there, too.
“Family conference?” Bill asked.
“Did you see Armpit checking out C. D. Zhang when he went in?”
“Yes.”
“I just got a bad feeling.”
“About what?”
“Our two upcoming crimes. They may be the same. Do you think the White Eagles could have heard about the Shanghai Moon? And they’re waiting for Wong Pan to bring it to sell to Mr. Chen so they can steal it?”
“Well, if that’s the case, they’re walking into the biggest mousetrap in Chinatown.”
We waited for more mice, but none showed. Just as I finished my tea, C. D. Zhang came out again. He headed briskly off in the direction he’d come from.
“What was that about?” I asked, but rhetorically. I pulled my phone out.
“You’d better be calling from Florida,” Mary said.
“C. D. Zhang just went in and out of Bright Hopes.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have a periscope. Look, I know you have people watching the place, but I wasn’t sure they know who he is.”
“I’m watching it myself,” she grudgingly admitted. “That was him just now?”
“You’re in the van?”
“Never mind. That was him?”
That was the cop speaking, not the friend, so I just said, “Yes.”
“He’s family and in the business. Why shouldn’t he drop in?”
“I don’t know. But on a day like this—”
“We don’t know it’s a day like this.”
“Oh, come on! There are three White Eagles loitering on that block, including Armpit. Wait—four. Warren Li just turned up.”
“Another bottom-feeder. No big score is going down just because those four punks are hanging out. Besides which, I know Li’s here, because I have two surveillances going, one on Chen and one on your no-good cousin. On your say-so, Lydia. If at least one of them doesn’t pan out my captain’s going to bust me back to