The Mystery of Revenge

  “Of course,” he said. For the first time, Yi-yun saw the bitterness in his beautiful eyes. “I’ve won quite a few local competitions, but I haven’t had the chance to go abroad, and all the major ones are held in foreign countries. It’s just too expensive. Besides the registration fee, you have to pay for the airfare, the hotel, the whole nine yards.” He sighed. “I simply don’t have the money.”

  “But you have to go,” Yi-yun said urgently. “You are simply too good not to let the world know.”

  “Yes,” he said with a good humor. “I’ll go when I have enough money.”

  “But you have to,” she insisted.

  “By the way,” he swiftly changed the subject with a tap of a finger on her hand. “I really appreciate you waiting for me tonight.”

  She felt her color rising suddenly, and she dropped her eyes to avoid his.

  He smiled and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

  “I think we should go,” she jumped up, and her heart started racing violently. “It’s getting late.”

  “Okay, let’s go,” he said cheerfully.

  They stood side by side when they were outside, waiting for her car. He was quiet, but she could feel the tension.

  “Yi-yun?” he said when the valet handed her the key.

  “Yes?” she was startled when she saw his eyes; they were painfully intense.

  “Do you want to join me in Newport next weekend?” he asked in a low and tense voice. “I’m scheduled to play at the Casino, one of the oldest restaurants in Rhode Island, on Saturday. When I play, you can have lunch there. Afterward, we can tour the town, and visit some of the mansions – make a day trip.”

  “That sounds lovely!” she cried. Never once had Fang Chen offered her a trip like this. The invitation was very tempting.

  “Will you come?” he asked.

  “Yes, definitely!”

  “Why do you want to go to Newport?” Fang Chen was furious when he heard her plan. “Isn’t it enough for you to go to the Ritz to listen to him?”

  “Because I want to have a fun day exploring the town,” she snapped. “We haven’t been anywhere since getting married, and you’re always too busy to spend time with me. If you don’t want me to go with him, then you go with me.”

  “I have to work!” Fang Chen growled. “You know how important it is for me to finish writing my dissertation. This is my last semester!”

  “But I’m tired of being alone,” she said firmly. “I’m going with Tom if you are not going to come, so make up your mind before Saturday.”

  Fang Chen eventually backed off. He just couldn’t take a day off to go sightseeing with his wife.

  Saturday turned out to be a beautiful day as the sun was shining and the air was refreshing; the leaves were vibrantly green while the sky was a cloudless blue. On the way to Newport, they kept the windows open so they could take in as much of the sweet scent of nature as possible.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Tom said, smiling at her behind the wheel.

  “I’m glad you invited me,” she said. “I haven’t been out of the city since our honeymoon.” She and Fang Chen honeymooned in Cape Cod after their civil ceremony more than a year ago.

  “Really?” he was genuinely surprised. “What is your husband thinking? If I were him, I would want to be with you all the time and take you to everywhere you want to go.”

  She laughed bitterly. “I wish you were him.” What a difference it would make if Fang Chen could be with her from time to time!

  He smiled, then said: “I should’ve invited you a long time ago.”

  “How long ago?” she asked. “We’ve only known each other for a few months.”

  “The first day I saw you,” he said.

  For some reason, she wasn’t surprised because she too realized that she was attracted to him the first time they met; only the fact that she was married had prevented her from acting on it. Since meeting Tom, Yi-yun had felt nothing but the resentment when she thought about her husband. When had Fang Chen ever taken her on a trip or planning a fun activity with her? Throughout their entire marriage, he cared about nothing but his studies as if everything in their lives revolved around his work.

  The prolonged silence made Tom turn to her inquiringly. When he saw her tears, he placed his free hand on her leg affectionately without saying a word. In a sudden impulse, Yi-yun leaned over and kissed him.

  Bending toward her, he caught her mouth. Before he could stop the car properly, they were already locked in each other’s arms.

  Chapter 7

  “Of course Tom killed her,” Shao Mei said to Paul Winderman forcefully. “People always suspect the husband, but I’m telling you, Fang is the nicest guy you could ever meet.” She emphasized her declaration with a nod. How could the police be so stupid. Just look at Fang Chen. They should figure that out, such a nice man and so much in love. Her heart ached when she remembered the first time seeing Fang Chen and Yi-yun together. The two lovebirds, she had called them.

  It was her first day in the US when she landed at Logan Airport. She thought her head would split if the journey lasted any longer. The continuous pain that cut through her inner ears was so severe that she could hardly withstand it any longer. She was sitting upright, very still, breathing slowly through her open mouth as the pain attacked her mercilessly, whereupon the Boeing 747 descended rapidly toward its final destination, plunging several hundred feet a minute.

  “I wonder if this is a sign of a difficult start.” She frowned, desperately clapping her hands against her ears, trying in vain to cease the pain.

  A professor of physics at Beijing University, Shao Mei was invited as a visiting scholar through a fellowship at Boston University, a month after the Tiananmen Square massacre. Within two months, she had secured a passport, a J-1 visa, and a seat on a flight that had been fully booked. To her great dismay, however, everything fell short of her expectations. The contract she signed with the school didn’t guarantee a job, the J-1 visa was good only for a year, and the seat she got on the airplane was in the smoking section, and she hated smoke like a cat hating a dog.

  If I can find a job while at BU, she thought wistfully under the assault of increasing ear pain, I should be able to bring John over within a year. John was her only son whom she had left behind. Living in a foreign country shouldn’t be as painful as going through the Cultural Revolution though.

  A flight attendant started announcing the flight schedules for those who had connections. Peeking through the window over the shoulder of the passenger in the window seat, Shao Mei caught herself uncharacteristically taken aback by the sight of the landscape underneath. It was spread out like a giant map, the highways zigzagging between toy-sized houses and trees while the blue ocean stretched eternally without a boundary. Boston, the poster city of higher education, will it be kind to me? Shao Mei wondered while gazing through the window at the city. Will it allow me, a woman in my early fifties, to start a new career?

  The landing was perfect; there was hardly a bump when the wheels touched the ground. Remaining seated, Shao Mei watched intensely as the passengers around her got up and left one after another. Nobody she knew would greet her at the airport, certainly not her cousin two times removed who lived in Seattle. As a matter of fact, she didn’t even know where she would be spending the night. She would hate to spend money on a hotel room because she had hoped the $400 she brought with her would last as long as the time it would take her to find a job.

  Where should I go? Shao Mei wondered. I wish I had a clue, she thought bitterly as she got off the plane. Then she saw the poster.

  Ah, Boston University. Shao Mei almost choked with joy when she saw the sign. It’s my school! Before realizing how improper it must be, she ran toward it with both arms outstretched and waving.

  “Welcome to Boston!” the gi
rl standing next to the poster greeted her with a beautiful smile. Such an agreeable girl, Shao Mei mused, looking at her approvingly. Her long jet-black hair was nicely groomed, and her dark eyes were large and expressive.

  “My name is Yi-yun,” the girl said as sweetly as a songbird. “This is my friend Fang Chen.” She introduced Shao Mei to the young man holding the large homemade poster next to her.

  “Welcome to Boston,” he said with an awkward smile. He was so quiet and homely that he had been totally overshadowed by his glamorous friend. Shao Mei felt terrible that she didn’t acknowledge him sooner.

  “So nice to meet you, thank you,” she said apologetically to Fang Chen. His thick glasses and stiff manner reminded her warmly of some of her dearest colleagues at Beijing University, and suddenly, she felt a special connection to this young man. “I’m Shao Mei, a professor at Beijing University.”

  She saw the instant spark of respect in his eyes as he extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Professor Shao.”

  “Same here,” she said with a nod and shook his hand. A respectful and nice young man, she thought to herself. “I never expected to be met here by people from BU. I thought I would be alone in a strange country!” What a relief, really. She had felt sick to her stomach only a few minutes ago. Yi-yun smiled at her understandingly. “We’re members of the Asian Club at BU,” she explained. “We were notified that you were coming today.”

  “What a great organization, the Asian Club,” Shao Mei said. She sensed it was a student organization, but she wondered if she could get some help from it as well. “Does it provide housing to visitors? I suppose I should go to the school first.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Yi-yun said. “But you can stay with me tonight and go to school tomorrow. The International Office closes at five every day.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Shao Mei cried while looking at her watch. It was ten minutes past five. “I thought I was going to spend a night at a hotel,” Shao Mei said. “The government only allowed me to bring $400 out of China, as you know.” Shao Mei hated announcing to strangers that she was dirt-poor, but for her own good, she had to. She needed this beautiful girl and her man to help her out until she could stand on her own two feet.

  “I know,” Yi-yun said gently. “I was so scared when I landed in Boston a year ago that I couldn’t even stand up when it was time to leave the plane. It was so pathetic.” She shot a meaningful smile at her companion who hadn’t let his eyes wander away from her even once during the whole exchange. He smiled back with adoration written all over his face.

  How can the stupid police even think he could kill the girl he loved more than anything in this world? Shao Mei thought. “He was a loving husband!”

  “Ex-husband,” Paul Winderman corrected her, looking at his notebook. “I thought they were divorced. In fact, he tried to get the immigration office to deport her.”

  “Well, that’s because she got snatched up by that beggar who has no morals,” Shao Mei snapped back. “That guy ran after her when she was still married to Fang! I told her not to leave her husband. I knew something bad would happen to her. Just look at that man—long hair, trash clothes—sitting at home day and night, playing the piano while his girlfriend worked like a slave. What kind of man is this, you tell me!”

  Paul looked her with amusement. She had bearish black eyes, a small nose, and a square chin. A very opinionated woman, he thought, with a strong opinion on everyone and everything for sure. “We can’t charge him as the killer unless we have solid evidence.”

  In his opinion, Tom Meyers seemed too selfish to commit such a hideous crime. Killing someone close needed true passion, and Tom Meyers wasn’t a passionate man. Maybe he was, in a self-satisfying manner as Paul Winderman remembered what Ms. White had told him about the passionate lovemaking between the man and the victim.

  “I think you already have enough evidence,” Shao Mei said defiantly. “The bullet that killed Yi-yun is from the same type of gun he owned, you found his pillow which he must’ve used to muffle the sound of the gunshot and she was five months pregnant, which is a huge motive if you ask me!”

  “Damn the media,” Paul Winderman swore under his breath. He hated it when people in the force leaked detailed information on ongoing investigations. To be honest, finding the pillow only added to his doubt. It was just too convenient. If Tom Meyers had got rid of the gun, why hadn’t he ditched the pillow as well? Yes, it was rather difficult to dispose of because it was bulky and unsinkable, but he could’ve definitely thrown it away in some remote area or buried it in the woods where it wouldn’t be found easily. As it was, the pillow had been casually bagged in a plastic trash bag and thrown into an open trash bin near the building where the victim lived. But as his colleagues pointed out, the suspect had to throw it away on his way to the airport because he was running out of time. Their thinking was that he had hidden the pillow in his suitcase so that he could dispose of it, and he had intentionally left the body on the floor and closed all the windows hoping that when the body was discovered, it would be too decomposed to tell the time of the murder. When he was safely out of town for so long, nobody would suspect him.

  Shao Mei continued with her speculations. “If she wanted to get married and he didn’t, what could he do other than removed of her conveniently? It is the biggest motive out there, I have to say.”

  He shook his head wearily. “As I said, we need solid evidence, and we need eyewitnesses. If you think of anything else that can help us, please give me call.”

  “I will. I will see to it that Yi-yun’s killer gets punished!” she said fiercely. “Such a nice girl whose life was cut short by the monster,” she said, choked with anger.

  Chapter 8

  As soon as Tom left for Prague, Yi-yun began having anxiety attacks, as if Tom had headed to war, not just an international piano competition. It was the most dreadful feeling she had ever experienced, worse than the time when her great-aunt informed her at the San Francisco International Airport that she would have to support herself because there wouldn’t be any money coming from her relatives. Having assumed all along that she would be partly provided for by her great-aunt who had promised her father to do so over the phone before she left China, Yi-yun had been so stunned that she didn’t know what to say. Needless to say, the flight from San Francisco to Boston was the most depressed and wretched ordeal in her young life.

  Growing up as an only child in a loving family, Yi-yun had been pampered for as long as she could remember; never once had she needed to worry about anything until three years ago when she had to face poverty alone in addition to school and work. She realized now how ungrateful she must have seemed in the past, never making an effort to return her doting parents’ love and not even answer their letters. It must have been very hard for them to let her go, she comprehended presently; they must have worried sick about her as much as she was worrying about Tom. “I’ll have to write them soon,” she said to herself. Hopefully, they would understand.

  After the Newport trip, she began to consider leaving her husband; but she hadn’t actually done so only because she couldn’t afford to live alone. Tom’s studio was too small, and neither of them could afford the rent for a bigger apartment. Although it was unforgivably selfish, continuously cheating on Fang Chen, she didn’t feel like she had a chance, she simply didn’t have the money to be independent.

  Two days after Tom left, Yi-yun got a message when she checked his answering machine. Tom had set it up so she could have the access to his machine when he needed to contact her because he wouldn’t be able to call her at home for obvious reasons. “I arrived last night and got some practice in this morning,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Too eager to wait, Yi-yun dialed his hotel room and got him on the phone.

  “It’s me,” she said breathlessly when she heard his voice. “How
do you feel?” She felt the moisture in her eyes rising rapidly.

  “I was fine until you woke me up,” he grumbled.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said with a jolt in her heart. “I didn’t know you were already in bed.”

  He sighed. “I told you before. I’m six hours ahead of you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said guiltily. “Should I call you tomorrow?”

  “No, I won’t have time tomorrow,” he said hastily. “I have to get up really early and practice.”

  “I miss you, Tom,” she was tearful.

  “I miss you too,” he murmured.

  Suddenly, he started whining like a child. “Oh, Yi-yun, I’m terrified. What if I’m not as good as the others? What if the judges judge me unfairly? It could happen!”

  “Don’t be silly,” Yi-yun interrupted him. “You are the best pianist I’ve ever heard,” she said forcefully. “As long as you are doing your best, you’ll be fine.” She suddenly sounded like her mother who had used these exact words when Yi-yun headed for her TOFEL test, the one that would determine her fate. Of course, she ended up scoring well and subsequently got accepted at Boston University. Oh dear, how much I miss her, Yi-yun thought to herself after hanging up the phone.

  The next day, she became more and more agitated as the day dragged on. “When will he call me? When will I know?” She couldn’t help thinking anxiously. Did he play well? Did he have a stage fright? What if the judges were unfair or prejudicial?

  It turned out that Tom was resting in his room when she finally placed a call using public phone on the street because she was so physically and mentally exhausted from waiting. The first round went well, he told her, and he was one of the finalists.

  “That’s so great!” she gasped. “How many finalists are there?”

  “Eight,” he said. “Tomorrow, the judges will pick three winners out of eight.”