Last Violent Call (Secret Shanghai, #3.5)(12)

“They arrive in a blank envelope each time,” Yulun answered. “I have half a mind to believe that Mr. Pyotr is dropping them off himself.”

Which was… frightening. Juliette glanced over with her brow furrowed. Roma returned her feeling of disconcertment.

“That was four days ago,” Mila said, gesturing to the warning. “The very same afternoon”—she took a deep, stuttering breath—“I saw news of Valentina and Viktoria reported in the papers. Murdered, one day after the other.” She paused. Squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again, her voice steadying. “The papers didn’t give names, but I know it was them. They worked as showgirls at different dance halls.”

Roma put the slip of paper down on the table.

“The other two are dead too, aren’t they?” he asked.

“Dasha and Lilya lived next door to each other in a township right outside Suzhou’s borders, an hour’s drive from here,” Mila answered quietly. “Yulun went to go warn them this morning.”

Yulun pinched the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted. “Dasha wasn’t there,” he supplied. “Though there was a bloody trail going into the alley. Lilya… Lilya was already cold. There was blood everywhere around her neck. I took one look and bolted.”

Chances were, someone would find Dasha’s body in the next few days. It would be foolish to hope otherwise.

“And that was when you called us,” Roma concluded.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Yulun’s expression crumpled. “I really thought that staying in these rural areas would make it harder to find Mila. I thought it would keep her safe.”

The living room fell into a hush. The scent of despair hung heavy, and when Juliette stood up abruptly, she waved her arms around as if she were trying to clear the smell out.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” she said. “I’m going to give you some knives, and then you and Mila are going to learn to defend yourselves in case another threat comes soon. Let’s just hope we can get to the bottom of this before anything more arrives.”

Juliette strode across the living room, her fists clenched and her shoulders tight. All of a sudden, Yulun stood as well, calling, “Wait!”

Juliette paused, one foot already in the hallway.

“I… I was right, no?” he said. “You’re Juliette Cai.”

“I’m not Juliette Cai.”

Yulun furrowed his brow in sheer disbelief. “You cannot possibly still say that when—”

“It’s Juliette Montagova.” She lifted her hand and waved her fingers, flashing her gold wedding ring while she continued onward and exited the living room. “I’m a married woman. Roma, come help me get the knives, would you?”

In that moment, as Roma pushed off the wall and followed her obediently, he fell in love all over again.





5


Mrs. Gu, who owned the tailoring business that hosted the communal phone line in Zhouzhuang, came to bring Juliette an already peeled zòngzi, its sticky rice glistening in the orange sunset. Juliette mouthed her thank-you and mimed blowing Mrs. Gu a dozen kisses, making the woman chuckle as she returned to the shop counter.

Juliette took a big bite of the zòngzi. The telephone continued ringing in her ear for another half minute before a gruff voice finally picked up.

“Who is it?”

“Ah Tou, is that any way to greet me?”

On the other end of the line, Ah Tou changed his tone immediately. “Mai tàitài. What can I do for you?”

It was late evening, the sky falling darker across the township. When Juliette adjusted her shoulder so she could clamp the receiver tighter against her ear, a herd of children ran past in their haste to return for dinnertime, almost jostling her into dropping the phone. Thankfully, she had good balance.

“Relax, you’re not being summoned.” Ah Tou was one of their best men, happy to work at their beck and call. He was fully trusted and well connected, albeit with a very shady past that definitely had included some involvement in Suzhou’s gangs. Which was great for Juliette, really, because if there was any group she knew how to talk to, it was gangsters. “I had a quick matter of interest that I figured you might know something about.”

“Ask away, dàsǎo.”

Juliette peered into the shop. Mrs. Gu was distracted while measuring a length of fabric.

“I killed a man earlier with an angel tattoo at the side of his neck. Chinese. Any idea if he belongs to a group of some sort?”

Ah Tou took a moment to think. “He was Chinese and he had a tattoo of an angel? Not a jīnglíng?”

“Definitely a Western angel. With the wings and the halo and the cherubic chubby cheeks—the whole shebang.”

“Strange.” Ah Tou made a noise, followed by the crunch of something being eaten. Juliette had probably interrupted his dinner, if his initial gruffness was any indication. “I can ask around. You need this soon?”

“As soon as possible. The last thing I need is for it to turn out to be a gang symbol and have ten of his angel-tattoo buddies coming after me for revenge.”

Ah Tou huffed. “I will protect you from revenge plots, Mai tàitài.”

Juliette smiled into her zòngzi. Who said criminals didn’t have large hearts?