Ghost Month by Ed Lin Page A

to Taiwan.
    I saw I had received a news text on my phone. The member of the Black Sea gang who had made allegations about the CIA and drugs was recanting his story, saying he was completely wrong. What an asshole.
    I searched online for Lee Xiaopei—Peggy’s business name.
    Surprise. She had decided to play it close to home. Peggy was a senior vice president of Lee & Associates, her family’s hedge fund. Of course it was headquartered in the most expensive office space in the country—the eightieth floor of the gigantic Taipei 101 building.
    The phone number was right there, but I took a breath and hesitated.
    I’ll admit Peggy had striking looks. Even if Peggy’s family wasn’t rich, she’d still have attracted a lot of attention. She had a sharp nose, a sharp chin and a sharp tongue. A lot of boys liked her. They left things on her school desk—candy, flowers and notes in fancy envelopes. But the only guy she was into back in high school was already in a committed relationship—me. You always want what you can’t have, and there was very little Peggy couldn’t have.
    I looked at my phone again. I had to call her. Peggy might know something about Julia’s return to Taiwan. That information might provide some comfort to Julia’s parents. If not, I wouldn’t tell them.
    I was reluctant as hell to open that door again, but still I’d rather call Peggy before trying to get in touch with Ming-kuo.
    I hit the number and waited. An automated voice menu answered. I wasn’t a current client, so I guessed I was a prospective one. Why else would anyone call? I pressed 2.
    Soothing light jazz began to play. Was I scheduling a dental appointment? Oh, I should probably schedule a dental appointment.
    As if reading my thoughts, a man wearing cheap sunglasses and a grey linen sports jacket approached me slowly. He was a big man, almost two meters in height, and he had a crew cut. I thought he was Japanese, but he gave himself away when he smiled. Straight, white, American teeth. I looked at him, but he kept a respectful distance while I was on the phone. An operator took my call.
    “Hello, thank you for calling Lee & Associates,” a man said. “You seem to be calling from a mobile phone.”
    “Hello, I am calling from my cell. I’m actually trying to get in touch with Ms. Lee Xiaopei, please.”
    “I’m sorry, if you’re not already a client, we don’t accept calls from mobile phones. You have to come in person or call from an office.”
    “That’s ridiculous.”
    “Have a good day, sir.” The son of a bitch hung up.
    I crossed my arms as the man approached me. “Are you done with your call?” he asked. His Mandarin had an American accent.
    “I’m done. What do you want?” I’m usually not this curt with strangers, but I was still annoyed by the phone call, and this guy wasn’t a customer of mine. He lifted his sunglasses and regarded me. The man seemed too young to have those bags under his eyes.
    “I just want to see how you are. No big deal.”
    “I’m doing fine,” I said.
    The sunglasses dropped back down and he headed into the Huangs’ building. Man, some strange people lived there. “Take care, man,” he said in English over his shoulder.
    Now, did he say “man” or “Jing-nan”?
    I had about an hour before I had to be at Unknown Pleasures. That wasn’t enough time to go to Peggy’s office. That would have to wait until tomorrow.
    I was frustrated and annoyed, and buying new music was my usual coping mechanism.
    The music stores around National Taiwan University, known as Taida for short, were the best. No one bought mainstream, conventional CDs anymore, so the stores survived by stocking limited editions from indie labels, imports and bootlegs of live shows.
    I rode east into the Da’an District. The big government buildings and wide sidewalks of the Zhongzheng District gave way to the residential buildings, churches and MRT stations of Da’an. The smell of incense grew heavier. A