“Oh, I come here to cook for widow, of course,” Vera says. “Come, there is still a lot of food left over, although little Emma has finish all of the beef noodles, I’m afraid. She’s a growing girl, you know. Don’t hold it against her.”
“I’m not—” Officer Gray stops herself, takes a deep breath, and says, “Mrs. Chen, I’m actually here to see you. Can we talk in private?”
Well, this just won’t do, Vera thinks, as Julia hurries forward, nodding, and leads Officer Gray into a side room. The door clicks shut behind them. The silence the two of them leave behind is thick and heavy. Vera glances at Oliver and Riki and Sana before scurrying over to the closed door.
“What are you doing?” Oliver hisses. “You can’t do that.”
Vera ignores him. She’s gotten very good at ignoring people over the years, especially when they say things like “You can’t do that” or “You’re not supposed to do that.” At her age, Vera reckons that she’s gained the right to do whatever the hell she pleases. She leans closer to the door, then presses her ear against it gently. She can hear muffled voices but no discernible words. She clicks her fingers at the other three.
“Get me a glass,” she whispers at them. They just continue gaping at her. Tch, young people nowadays. Hopeless. She presses her ear closer to the door, and that’s when it swings open, making Vera stumble and almost fall. Luckily, thanks to all of her brisk-walking sessions, Vera is very strong and coordinated for her age and she manages to right herself. Unluckily, she’s also just been caught red-handed. Or red-eared, as the case may be. Still, she recovers quickly, standing straight and smiling innocently at Julia and Officer Gray. Julia looks a thousand miles away, which Vera is quickly learning is sort of Julia’s thing, and Officer Gray looks both amused and annoyed, which Vera is also quickly learning is sort of Officer Gray’s thing.
“Were you trying to listen to a private conversation, Vera?” Officer Gray says.
“Yes.”
Officer Gray’s mouth is already open, about to say something, when she pauses. Hah, Vera thinks. The officer probably was expecting a denial from Vera. Officer Gray narrows her eyes before sighing. “Look, I might as well tell you as well, because I’m actually about to go to your shop.”
“Oh? Aha, I know it. I been waiting for you to change your mind about having some of my tea. Is very good, you know, just ask them.” Vera nods at the others.
Officer Gray sighs again. “No, Vera. I’m not going over for tea. I’m—” She pauses, glancing at Riki and Sana, who are staring at her from one side of the room. “Who did you two say you were again? What’s this . . . gathering about?”
“Oh, these are my—”
Before Vera can say “suspects,” Riki says, “Hi! I’m Riki, I’m a reporter. I was here to—well, interview the people involved in this case, but I’ll get out of your way now.”
“Yep, same here,” Sana pipes up. She grabs her purse from the back of one of the dining chairs and hurries toward the door, where Riki is already slipping on his sneakers. “Bye! Thanks for the meal.” They open the door without hesitation and hurry out. And with that, they’re gone.
Vera makes a mental note to add their hasty departure to her notebook. That will go under their “I Am a Murderer” column.
“Okay . . .” Officer Gray mutters. She glances at Oliver. “You might as well listen too, Mr. Chen. We’ve identified the cause of Marshall Chen’s death.”
A small gasp escapes Vera’s mouth and she quickly clamps it shut. Ooh, but this is exciting, isn’t it? She could get used to this, she really could. Nothing quite so dramatic ever happens in the tea business. In the single moment that Officer Gray pauses, a thousand and one causes of death fly through Vera’s head.
Strangulation!
Poison! Ooh, what kind of poison? Maybe the kind that melts your insides? But no, that would make the most dreadful mess.
Radiation! Oh yes, a radioactive agent slipped into his drink. Wait, that would make her teahouse radioactive, maybe. Okay, let’s hope it’s not that.
Sneaky acupuncture! Like the one that Jet Li did in that awful Hollywood movie where he inserted an acupuncture needle just so and it blocked the blood flow and caused internal hemorrhage. Yes, that one. That’s Vera’s favorite. Dramatic, but clean, so she won’t have to close down her teahouse for fear of radioactive contamination.
By the time Officer Gray speaks again, Vera’s practically rubbing her hands together.
“He had an anaphylactic shock, otherwise known as a severe allergic reaction—”
Vera deflates. Allergic reaction? That is by far the least exciting option available.
“—to bird dander.”
Vera feels as though she’s just been smacked upside the head. Bird dander? Dimly, she registers Oliver telling Officer Gray that yes, when they were kids, Marshall had a severe allergic reaction to a goose-down duvet. She remembers Oliver mentioning that. But then this means—
“So this is not murder?” she wonders out loud. Because how could anyone murder using bird dander, of all things? Gah! Already, Vera is mentally shredding her little notebook. She feels herself deflating. Bird dander, of all things, really, now.
“We’re still looking into it,” Officer Gray says, “but it doesn’t look like foul play was involved.”
But what about the flash drive? Vera wants to shout. What about the scratch on his cheek, and that bruise on his eye? Something else prods at her mind. “You say you want to come by my shop to tell me this? Why?”
“Well, we thought it prudent to see if there’s anything in your shop that might have bird dander. Do you have any pet birds, or—”
Vera harrumphs. “Of course not. Don’t be silly. I run a teahouse, not a bird shop.”
“Okay,” Officer Gray says. She turns to Julia. “Well, thank you for your time, and again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Vera’s head is boiling with shouts of No! You must’ve gotten it wrong somehow! Did you even check his body for radiation?
But all she can do is stand there quietly as Julia leads the officer to the door. Then Officer Gray is gone and Vera can find no other reason to hang around, now that there is no murder to solve, and so, with a heavy heart, Vera takes her leave.
VERA’S NOTEBOOK
Cause of death: Bird dander
Suspects:
The city of San Francisco, because letting all these pigeons roam free