Double-Crossing Delancey Page 4
Jeff Yang’s frown became fiercer and his hands curled into fists. I could feel Charlie next to me watching him, tensing.
Joe sighed. “We’re all so very, very disappointed.”
“No, you’re not, Joe. You’re impressed.”
“Well,” Joe conceded, “perhaps I am. But now, my unequalled Asian mistress of mystery, the game is over. Yes, you have won, and I will proclaim that truth to all who ask. Now is the time to return your cleverly-gotten gains so that we can go our separate ways, with no hard feelings.”
Charlie’s face fell at this prospect.
“You have to be kidding, Joe,” I said. “When was the last time you gave back money you’d conned somebody out of fair and square?”
“Ah,” Joe said, “but I would not — especially in my amateur days, which status I fear you have not yet left behind — have worked a con on such a one as Mr. Yang.” He indicated Jeff Yang, whose fists were clenched, angry frown fixed in place. To emphasize the danger, Joe stepped away a little, Rajesh Shah with him, leaving Charlie and me marooned with Jeff Yang in the center of the pathway. “I fear I will not be able to restrain the good Mr. Yang from putting into play his threatened destruction of your professional reputation, unless we are all satisfied. Not to mention what look like fairly dire designs on your person.”
This was, finally, too much for Jeff Yang. The frown exploded into a great bellowing laugh.
Whatever else you want to say about Jeff Yang, his laugh has always been infectious. I cracked up too.
So did Charlie.
Jeff, wheezing from laughter, turned to Joe. “I do have designs on Lydia’s person, but not that kind. I’ve spent my whole life trying to make up for the teddy bear kidnapping incident. I’ll do anything she asks. I’m putty in her hands. I’ll even pretend to be a big-time Chinatown gangster if Lydia wants me to.” He pulled a fan of bills from his pocket and waved them in the air. “I charged ten per cent,” he said to me. “If I buy you dinner, will you finally forgive me?”
“I’ll never forgive you,” I said. “But you might as well buy me dinner.” I slipped my arm into his. Just before Jeff, Charlie, and I walked off in the golden evening I spoke once more to Joe, who stood open-mouthed on the path.
“Oh, and thanks for the lychees, Joe. They were China’s finest. From that place on Delancey, right? And do keep in touch with your friend Mr. Shah. When they start growing lychees in India, if they ever do, I’m sure he’ll let you know.”
Mr. Shah blushed and frowned. But Joe, with a wide smile breaking over his face like sun through clouds, swept forward into a low, graceful bow. He came up with a flourish and a grin. I bowed my head to acknowledge the compliment. The ruby in Joe’s tooth flashed in a final ray of light as, with Jeff and Charlie, I turned and walked away.
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