Vanished!
“Henry Lu wants the Chinese government to release the West Lake Five,” said Marcus. “And the Chinese government would do anything it could to protect Yin. That makes sense.”
“Except Yin wants to defect,” I replied. “And that would be a huge story for Henry. He could make sure it was public. He could put pressure on the US government. He could embarrass China. It’s what he was begging Yin to do when we were at the zoo. And it would be much bigger than helping the West Lake Five.”
“Any chance they’re in it together?” asked Malena. “Maybe that’s how Lu knew he’d be at the zoo. Yin’s the one who tipped him off.”
“No way,” said Margaret. “He was really shaken after their encounter. That wasn’t acting.”
“But everything you just said points to him,” said the president.
“Right, because I think the kidnappers want us to think he’s the one,” I explained. “It’s been part of their plan for a while and they’ve carefully set him up.”
Margaret turned to me. “You know who did it, don’t you?”
“I think so,” I said. “Lucy gave me the missing piece of TOAST.”
“Toast?” Lucy asked.
“The Theory of All Small Things,” I told her. “It’s how I put things together.”
“And what did I give you?”
“Loki,” I said. “It all started with Loki, and you told me who it was.”
“The prankster at school?” asked Lucy.
“Yes,” I replied. “You and Yin were secret friends and then suddenly all your methods of communication disappeared. Your locker got damaged. Chat Chat got hacked. The fire alarm was pulled. The pranks weren’t done to disrupt school. They were done to disrupt your friendship. And once you know the motive, there’s only one person who can be guilty.”
“Mrs. Chiang!” blurted Margaret.
“That’s right,” I said. “She’s the only one who connects to everything.”
“But why would she do it?” asked Kayla.
“To protect her reputation and career,” I said. “She and her husband were supposed to look after Yin. What would happen to them if he publicly humiliated the country? They’d get the blame, right?”
“No doubt about that,” said the president. “Their careers would be over.”
“And she couldn’t let that happen,” I said.
“Her room overlooks the lockers so it would have been easy for her to put glue in the locks,” said Margaret.
“And as a faculty member she had access to Chat Chat,” I said. “And she could have easily pulled the fire alarm without attracting attention because everyone was looking for a student. No one would’ve suspected a teacher.”
“No one except for you,” said Kayla.
“She watches Yin like a hawk; she had to know he was upset and looking for a way out,” I said. “Her only hope was to control him until it was time to go to Berlin. Then he’d be someone else’s problem.”
“So she kept him from talking to Lucy,” said Margaret. “But then she figured out that he might do something big at the concert.”
“Which is why she needed Henry Lu,” I said. “Yin didn’t tip him off that we were going to the zoo. The Chiangs had someone do it.”
“Remember they didn’t go with us into the Panda House?” said Margaret. “They stayed outside. Because they knew Lu was going to be there.”
“That’s absolutely right,” I said. “That ensured that we would be witnesses to him confronting Yin. And they already knew he was going to be at the concert because he’d arranged to get a press credential. Marcus, you said you saw him talking on the phone?”
“That’s right.”
“They probably had someone call him away from the scene to make him look suspicious,” I said.
“And today Mrs. Chiang was there when we found the note and she’s the one who made the call to the embassy,” said Marcus. “Or rather to her husband at the embassy.”
“Then her husband heads to the Sculpture Garden to keep Yin from meeting up with Lucy,” I said. “And all the evidence points to Henry Lu.”
“But we know that he’s not guilty,” said Lucy, getting into it. “So you can arrest the Chiangs.”
“No, we can’t,” said Marcus. “First of all, they have diplomatic immunity, so we wouldn’t be able to charge them. But more important, we don’t have any proof. The evidence all points at Henry Lu, and as carefully as they’ve planned this, I bet they have a way to make him appear completely guilty.”
“Then we can tell the truth,” she countered. “I mean, my dad could have a press conference and lay it all out.”
“If the team investigating the kidnapping arrests Henry Lu, it will be an instant international story: An American who hates the Chinese government is arrested for kidnapping a Chinese citizen,” the president said. “If we tried to follow that up by switching the blame to a pair of employees of the Chinese embassy, it would look like we’re playing politics. They’d deny everything and use their immunity to keep from being prosecuted.”
“Unless we can catch them in the act,” I said. “None of that matters if we catch them with Yin.”
“That’d be great,” said Margaret. “I don’t suppose you know where they are.”
“Actually, I think I do,” I said as I pulled out my phone, which I then realized had less than 10 percent power left. “My battery’s dead. I need a computer. I need to search online.”
“What are you looking for?” asked Kayla.
“A water tower with a picture of a giant crab on it.”
33.
Marine One
IT WAS AN INTERESTING GROUP huddled around the computer in an office next to the Blue Room. There was the president, agents from the FBI and Secret Service, Margaret, Lucy, and me. And they were all looking over my shoulder as I made a simple search.
“There it is,” I said, pointing at the image. “It’s the same water tower that’s in the background of the picture of Yin kayaking. The one we saw on Chat Chat.”
“ ‘Crisfield, Maryland,’ ” said Marcus, reading the caption. “ ‘Crab Capital of the World.’ ”
“When we were at the zoo, he told us the Chiangs had a cottage on Chesapeake Bay,” said Margaret. “That must be where it is.”
“I bet that’s where they’re holding him,” I said. “If we can get there before the trap comes down on Henry Lu, then we can prove it’s them.”
“It would take about three hours to drive,” said Marcus. “That might be too late.”
“Isn’t there an FBI field office nearby?” asked the president. “Or can’t you alert the local police.”
“About that,” said Marcus, sheepishly. “We’re freelancing a little bit here. We’re not supposed to be working on this case. There’s a CARD team that’s in charge. We just happened to stumble across an alternate theory.”
“But your theory is right,” said Lucy. She turned to her dad. “Can’t you just call the FBI and tell them?”
“No, honey,” he said regretfully. “I can’t interfere with a federal investigation. Especially one that involves my own daughter.”
She was upset with him, so Marcus tried to help.
“We just don’t have enough evidence,” he explained to her. “This is all speculation.” Then he turned to her father. “I’m sorry, Mr. President. In no way would I ask you to interfere.”
“I appreciate that.” He looked to Lucy, whose frustration with him was growing, and I was tempted to offer him the peace medal for luck. “Although . . . ,” he said, an idea forming. “I do happen to have a helicopter at my disposal.”
“What?” I said, suddenly nervous.
“And if that helicopter was carrying a member of my staff to the town of Crisfield, Maryland, for White House business, I wouldn’t have to know if there were any other passengers on board.”
By now everyone was smiling but me.
“Really?” Lucy asked him.
“Really.”
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“What if we drove really fast,” I suggested. “Maybe we could get there in two hours. That might be soon enough.”
“You said you’d follow the clues wherever they led,” Marcus teased.
“I think you even mentioned something about riding in a helicopter or a submarine if you had to,” added Margaret.
“Those were hypothetical situations. I didn’t think we’d actually have to use one.”
“Too bad about that.” She laughed. “You should probably sit near the window in case you have to throw up.”
Ten minutes later Marcus, Kayla, Margaret, and I boarded Marine One, the president’s helicopter. Joining us were Malena Sanchez, a member of the president’s staff who had a “sudden emergency” to tend to in Crisfield, Maryland, and a last-second addition who demanded to come along, Lucy Mays.
We lifted off from the White House lawn and I sat in the middle seat, as far from the windows as I could get, and did my best not to look down. As we flew over the dark waters of Chesapeake Bay, Marcus and Kayla worked their phones trying to call in favors to get a possible address for the cottage.
“There are no Chiangs listed on the property records of Somerset County,” Marcus said, frustrated, after he got off a call.
“And it doesn’t appear that the Chinese embassy owns any homes along the Eastern Shore,” said Kayla. “If we try to look any deeper we’ll set off too many red flags.”
“We’ll have to figure it out on the ground,” he replied.
“I don’t get the Chiangs’ plan,” said Margaret. “Eventually they’ll have to let Yin go, and when they do, he can say it was them.”
“You’re assuming he’ll tell the truth,” said Marcus. “I expect that right now they’re trying to convince him it’s in his best interest to tell an alternate story.”
“Convince him how?” I asked.
“There are two ways,” said Kayla. “Promise him something he wants, like a chance to visit home more often.”
“Or threaten him with something he’s scared of,” said Marcus. “Like punishing his parents for his actions.”
“They’d do that?” asked Margaret.
“Yes, they would,” he said. “You’ll know it’s happened if the first thing out of their mouths is some variation of ‘there’s been a big misunderstanding.’ ”
Malena leaned over and asked, “How does Henry Lu work into this? At some point it will be obvious that he didn’t kidnap anyone.”
“Maybe,” said Marcus. “But for now all the Chiangs need is a distraction. As long as the FBI’s focused on him, they can keep working out their new story with Yin.”
Throughout the conversation, Lucy never said a single word. She either looked out the window lost in thought or gave me the death stare. I felt terrible about everything but realized there was nothing I could do.
We landed at Crisfield Municipal Airport, three miles out of town, and were met by a driver with a large SUV big enough for us all.
“Where do we go first?” asked Kayla.
I had a sudden inspiration.
“Doughnuts,” I said to the driver. “Is there a really good doughnut shop in town?”
“Are you serious?” said Lucy, finally breaking her silence. “You really think this is the right time for an apple fritter or a cruller? What about Yin?”
“Not a chain,” I said, ignoring her. “We need a mom-and-pop doughnut shop.”
“There’s Donut King on Bay Street,” he said.
“Is it good?” I asked.
“Delicious,” he said. “But I think it’s closed.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I told him. “Take us there.”
Everyone gave me an incredulous look and Margaret asked, “Florian, what are you doing?”
“Finding the house,” I answered. “Yin said it was near a great doughnut shop. I figured we’d start there and work our way out.”
“I totally forgot about the doughnuts.”
“I like this plan,” said Marcus. He turned to the driver. “Feel free to exceed the speed limit as much as you’d like. I’ll deal with the authorities.”
“My pleasure.”
Since it was a Monday night, there wasn’t much traffic. And although the lights of an amusement park flashed along the waterfront, it didn’t look like there were many tourists along the main strip. We passed some seafood restaurants and an ice cream shop before reaching the Donut King. It was closed but a neon sign in front flashed: IT DON’T MEAN A THING IF IT AIN’T FROM THE KING.
Marcus pointed down the nearest street and told the driver to go slowly so we could look for the Chiangs’ cottage.
“This still feels kind of impossible,” Margaret said as we went down the block.
“Just keep your eyes open,” I said. “And think about TOAST.”
“First it’s doughnuts, then it’s toast,” she joked. “This case is making me hungry.”
We’d gone up and down three streets before I noticed the car.
“Look,” I said, pointing. “A diplomatic license plate. The kind they give embassy employees.”
Marcus gave me a proud slap on the back and told the driver, “Make a U-turn at the next intersection and park over there.” He pointed at a spot two houses down and across the street. “Nice going, Florian.”
“What’s the plan?” Kayla asked.
“You go around back in case anybody makes a run for it,” he said. “And I knock on the front door and hope someone answers.”
“What about us?” I asked.
“Everyone else stays in the car,” he said.
“No way. I didn’t ride in a helicopter just so I could sit and watch,” I argued.
“Besides,” said Margaret. “If Yin’s in there, he’ll be less nervous if he sees us.”
Marcus thought about this for a moment and begrudgingly said, “Okay. But you stay behind me.”
We got out of the car and quietly moved toward the cottage, Marcus leading the way. We stopped at the carport and he put his hand on the hood of the car.
“Still a little warm,” he whispered. “They haven’t been here long.”
Kayla slipped around the back while we followed Marcus to the front door. We could hear a man talking inside but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I wasn’t sure if it was because it was muffled or if he was speaking a foreign language.
“I wish I knew for sure that it was him in there,” said Marcus. “Because if it’s not, this could turn out badly for us.”
“Wait a second,” said Margaret with a grin. She dug her phone out of her pocket. “I have Mr. Chiang’s cell number. He had me text him my picture of Henry Lu.”
Marcus smiled. “Why don’t you give him a call?”
She dialed and seconds later we heard his phone ringing from inside the house.
“Nice,” I said to her. “Very nice.”
Marcus took a breath and went straight into action. “Open up!” he commanded, pounding on the door. “FBI!”
We heard some scrambling inside.
Marcus pounded again. “Jian Chiang, we know you’re in there. We know Yin Yae’s in there too. Open the door!”
Things were quiet for a moment until we heard a bolt unlocking. The door opened halfway and Mr. Chiang looked out at us, doing his best to block the view inside.
“Are you Jian Chang?” asked Marcus.
“Yes,” he said coolly. “What seems to be the problem?”
“May we enter the premises?” asked Marcus.
Chiang thought for a moment and asked, “Do you have a warrant?”
“No,” admitted Marcus.
“Then you can leave now,” he said.
Chiang started to close the door, but I stuck my foot in the way and blocked it.
“Ooof,” I grunted as it got squeezed in the process.
“Yin, are you in there?” Margaret called. “It’s Margaret and Florian.”
“Are you there, Yin?” I asked.
Suddenly Yin appeared f
rom a back room, nervous and weary, but also curious. No doubt stunned to hear our voices. “What are you doing here?”
“We were worried about you,” she said.
“We came to help,” I added.
“Yin doesn’t need any help,” said Chiang. “Now move your foot.”
He pressed against it harder with the door and I writhed in pain.
“Is he telling the truth, Yin?” Marcus asked. “Do you need any help?”
By this point Kayla had come around to the front door and was standing with us. Yin looked at our faces, thought about it for a moment, and shook his head. “No,” he said sadly. “There was just a big misunderstanding.” He looked at Chiang and then at us. “I got confused but Mr. Chiang has helped me figure everything out.”
Margaret and I slumped. It was just like Marcus said it would be. They’d convinced him to tell a fake story.
“Now, if you don’t mind,” Chiang growled, “move your foot out of my door.”
I wasn’t sure what I should do and was just about to pull it back when Yin said, “Wait! What are you doing here?”
I turned to see that he was talking to Lucy, who’d come up from behind us with Malena.
“I got your message,” she said. “But when I got to the garden you weren’t there.” Then from behind her back she pulled out his Orioles cap. “You left this.”
Yin looked at her and was clearly touched by the show of friendship. He reflexively moved toward the door to take the hat, but Chiang blocked his way.
“Yin,” said Marcus. “Would you like to go with us?”
He hesitated as he weighed his options and then Margaret said the magic words: “Trust the river, Yin. Just let the current take you and trust the river.”
Tears streamed down his face.
“Yes, please,” he said softly to Marcus. “I would like to go with you.”
34.
Without a Clue
“LISTEN TO THIS,” MARGARET SAID, reading the story on the Washington Post’s website. “ ‘First daughter Lucy Mays saved the day as a last-second replacement when music prodigy Yin Yae got sick during intermission of a performance at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.’ ”
She looked up at me astonished. “No defecting. No running away or kidnapping. Just a few quotes about how great the concert was and how well Lucy filled in.”