Chinatown Beat

Captain Mario said to Jack, "What do you think?"

Jack looked off into the distance. "The woman who took a pot shot at me in San Francisco? She's definitely involved. This guy, Joh

His eyes focused, came back into the room and settled on the captain. "I'm willing to bet that the old men on Pell Street are paying for Littman because they're sniffing at something in the wind. They need Joh

There was a brief silence. Then Jack said, "If Joh

"What makes you think they can find out what you can't?" the captain asked.

"Chinatown doesn't end at Delancey Street, Captain. It stretches to Hong Kong, and Taiwan, and China. It reaches out to Chinese settlements everywhere. Sooner or later, there won't be enough space in the yellow world for a pretty Chinese woman to hide."

Marino frowned.

"At any rate," Jack finished, "Wong's arrest takes the pressure off us. And headquarters, too."

"Keep me posted," Marino said.

Jack went down the creaky stairs to the street. Night rain began to fall. He was off duty now and thirsty. He headed toward the Golden Star bar.

He'd talked a good game, but he was uneasy. He didn't see Joh

Finally, he reached the bar. The sounds of jukebox music spilled out of the door as he came through it, out of the cold rainy night.

Yellow Badge

At One Police Plaza the auditorium was packed with cop families, police cadets and veterans creating a proud field of deep NYPD blue. The Emerald Pipers band wailed, then applause punctuated the presentation of awards.

Jack stood on the stage in his neatly pressed blue uniform, before the mayor, the commissioner and an array of department brass, all applauding as the deputy chief pi

When he looked out over the auditorium, Jack felt exhilarated yet sad. There was no family in the audience waiting for him.

He thought of Pa, and how proud he might have been. Maybe.

Black Widow

By Thanksgiving, Widow Tam ceased to wear all black when she appeared in public, but kept the mask of grief on her face. At home, alone in the dark living room overlooking Chinatown, she wore her red embroidered nightgown every night to bed, her head nestling into downy pillows, wrapped in the blood color of new luck.

She felt thankful.

Her happiness had been completed when the police arrested Jun Yee Wong for her husband's murder and she received the Full Benefit, US $200,000, from Universal Life. Opening the windows, she felt the bite of frost tumbling out of the north, and began to think of su

Bak Baan

Jack celebrated alone, chasing a line of boilermakers at the Golden Star. When he'd had enough, he returned to the park. He'd finally tracked down Ali Por to the free clinic at the Old Age Center. She was strapped to a gurney and co

Jack reached out from his alcoholic haze and placed the bak baan, mahjong tile, in her veiny clutch.

Ali Por rolled her eyes at him, called him jai, son, and passed the tile from palm to palm. She said what sounded to Jack like panda sun, diamond sky, wind of salt water, and began to tremble.

The nurse took the tile, returned it to Jack, and told him to leave as Ali Por lapsed into unconsciousness.

In the street, Jack repeated Ah Por's phrases but could not squeeze any clarity from them. He wandered down Mott Street, spi

Pa

Sleep came in snatches of blinking REMs, fitful tiny periods of rest in a night of tossing and disco

When Jack awoke, he found himself on the floor in the daylight of Pa's apartment.

The sun was high and bright, unusual for a day in late October. Sunlight streamed into the apartment, throwing thick slatshadows across the floor, along the walls.

Family, he thought, this is how it ends.

He saw the He

Sanitation had come for the mattress and the broken wooden chairs. The bed frame and boxspring were still good, and he had given them to the Old Age Center, along with the wok and the table lamp. The leftover clothes he'd taken to the Goodwill guys down on Houston near the Bowery. He'd given the rest of the books and magazines to the Chinatown History Project.

He took a deep drink, felt the heat as it went down. The super had taken out the garbage thatJack had piled into one corner. And that was that. The new family was moving in next week and they needed to get the place painted. Jack took the last hit from the gourd, surprised by its bittersweet taste, the sudden sticky ooze around the opening against his lips. He held the gourd upside down, watching as dark tarlike mud dripped out. He rubbed some of the sediment between his fingers, took a sniff. Opium, he realized instantly. No wonder he had had troubled memories, flashbacks with the photographs, been tormented by fragmented pieces of living left behind. Was it Pa's opium? Or had it been left on purpose for hinl? He'd never know, but wasn't sure that it mattered.

He set the gourd down.

Only the He