said, “It does to me.”
Personally, I had doubts about experiences being redeemable, but I kept them to myself.
We had more tea and coffee while the conversation turned to fees, expenses, and reports. Alice was Joel’s client, so he took the lead, and that was fine with me. I listened, put in my two cents when it was wanted, and tried not to yield to the hypnotic combination of jet lag and the Waldorf.
Finally, retainer checks and receipts having been written and passed around, Alice said, “You’ll have to excuse me. That Shanghai flight’s a long one, and my poor body’s not sure what day it is, let alone what time. And I’ve scheduled meetings with other clients over the next few days, since I’m in New York. Lydia, you just got back from California, didn’t you? You’re probably looking forward to the end of this meeting, too.” I tried to deny it, but she had my number. “I’ll go up to my room and let you two get started. Thank you.”
Joel and I stood, shook her hand, and watched her cross the lobby.
“Well, Chinsky,” Joel said, “ready to do the bloodhound thing?”
“Sure. Thanks for calling me in.”
“Chinsky, as far as Chinese PIs, you’re at the top of my list. I mean, it’s a short list, but still.”
“Gee, thanks.” I had taken a few steps when I realized Joel was still staring toward the elevators, chewing his lower lip. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. I feel like something’s off.”
“Like what?”
“For one thing, she’s a shiksa. Her parents were missionaries. It’s an odd profession for a shiksa, Holocaust asset recovery.”
“Maybe she converted.”
He gave me a pitying look. “Trust me on this, bubbaleh.”
“Okay. But so? There must be money in it. She probably gets a percentage or something.”
“If she finds anything. And she’d be on retainer, in case she doesn’t. But it’s frustrating. Like she said, most assets can’t be traced. When they can, ownership takes years to prove. Half the time, you never do, and you don’t get your client’s goods back. Everyone I know who does that work thinks of it like a religious calling.”
“She does have that air about her.”
“Yes. The question is, why?”
“Because her parents were missionaries?”
Joel rolled his eyes. We turned and headed to the door. Casually, Joel asked, “Speaking of work, how’s your partner?”
“You’re subtle as a ton of bricks, Pilarsky. I haven’t seen him in a while.” As though it explained anything, I added, “I’ve been away.”
“Mmm. I heard you guys were having problems.”
“Did you? Where?”
“Around. It’s true?”
“Why? You want to go into business with one of us?”
“With you, in a minute. We’d be unstoppable. Cute little Chinese chick and a fat Jewish alte kacker, clients would be falling over each other. No, seriously, it’s just that you guys work well together. That’s not so easy to find.”
That showed a surprising sensitivity, coming from Joel, but I didn’t want to get into it. “He seems to think I’m better off without him.”
“Who asked him?”
“Certainly not me. Listen, is this important? Like, does it have to do with this case?”
Joel smiled and suddenly bellowed,
“You’re nothing without me!
Without me you’re nothing at all—”
“No!” I put my hands to my ears. He stopped, and I asked, “What?”
“City of Angels. Coleman and Zippel. Last of the great Broadway musicals, and it’s about a private eye, too! You should see it, Chinsky.”
“Where’s it playing?”
“Nowhere. Closed years ago.”
“Then how do I see it?”
“Your problem, kiddo. You need anything before we start?”
“No,” I sighed. “I’m good.”
“Okay.” Joel smiled beatifically. “Go. Have fun.”
2
It was too late to start working my way through the jewelry shops of Canal Street; by the time I got downtown they’d all be closed. I was tempted to go home to bed. If I did, though, I’d spring wide awake in a few hours and spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling.
I headed for the dojo. I’d worked out in California, but that wouldn’t cut much ice with Sensei Chung. All he knew was I hadn’t been around for a month. I suited up, stretched, and offered to take a class of younger students through their forms. Sensei bowed, accepting the offer. I worked with the kids for forty minutes, until they, and I, were sweaty and panting. Then Sensei dismissed them and smiled, ready to show me why it wasn’t a good idea to disappear.
I got home exhausted enough that I had hopes of falling asleep and getting back on New York time. I found my