Last Violent Call (Secret Shanghai, #3.5)(8)

She took the opportunity to stop.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, “but do you usually deliver around here?”

“I absolutely do,” the postman replied. A tag on his uniform gave his surname as Liao. Under his cap, his hair was entirely white. He seemed to give Juliette and Roma a closer appraisal before asking: “The two of you come in from the city?”

“No,” Roma answered immediately. “Only from Zhouzhuang. We’re visiting family.”

“We think they might have gone elsewhere for the week, because no one was home when we knocked,” Juliette added.

“It’s as empty as the new year, isn’t it?” Mr. Liao agreed.

Terribly so. Juliette might have been inclined to believe a holiday had turned the whole place hush, if only it weren’t months away from the new year. Besides, that would usually clear out the cities and larger towns where civilians immigrated to work, not the smaller townships. The new year made these parts louder and livelier than ever, if anything, because everyone in the city came home to their rural origins.

“Rather strange,” Juliette commented. “What’s the cause?”

Mr. Liao immediately looked over his shoulder. He scanned their premises thoroughly before turning back.

“I don’t live here, so I wasn’t certain either until I heard from Mrs. Chang on Tianneng Street. Lots of foreign men lurking around the area. They claim to be searching for someone and want to make no trouble, but anyone who runs into them is questioned aggressively.” The postman sifted through his envelopes as he spoke, trying to find what he was delivering next. “Mrs. Chang was followed all the way home. Said they banged on her door for half an hour when she couldn’t give an answer.”

Juliette grimaced. At her side, Roma looked uneasy as well. Yulun had mentioned his fiancée being threatened. He also said she had fled from Vladivostok, which was on the easternmost coast of the Soviet Union. This could be the threat Yulun was talking about.

“When you say foreign men…,” Juliette clarified anyway. “Western foreign or Russian foreign?”

Mr. Liao shrugged. “Could be Russian. Apparently they speak běndì huà fine, so that’s my guess.”

“I suppose we ought to clear out soon too.” Roma nudged her with his elbow. Juliette nudged him back. “Thank you.”

With another tip of his hat, the postman turned back to his giant bag of letters.

“What do you think?” Juliette whispered when they were some distance away. “Is this enough to get Yulun that worked up on the phone?”

Roma shook his head. “Something worse must have happened.”

A few men causing trouble was nothing to scoff at, but it certainly wasn’t overly dire, either. The residents in this township seemed to have decided to keep their heads down and wait out the days until the men got fed up with making trouble. This whole country had been under warlord rule for years before the current government took over. People were used to closing their doors tightly when men were strong-arming their way through the streets.

As they approached number 280, Juliette pressed on the sheath at her leg to make sure her weapons were secure. It wasn’t that she expected to find danger, but it would always do well to be prepared.

“Number 280,” Roma said aloud. They stopped, observing the house.

It looked like every other building down the pathway, two stories high and painted modestly in brown. Though Juliette had intended to knock on the front door as soon as she stepped close, she had scarcely lifted her hand before there was a loud thud from inside.

She and Roma veered back.

“Yulun?” Roma called. He slapped his palm flat against the door, making sure his knock carried loudly. “Are you in there?”

Yulun didn’t answer. There was only more strange rustling.

“I don’t want to be overly alarmist,” Juliette said, her pulse picking up, “but it sounds like there’s a struggle going on inside.”

She tried the front handle. It wouldn’t budge. The door looked too sturdy to kick down. While Roma kept knocking, Juliette hurried over to the window, cupping her hands to the glass so she could peer inside. As was the case with most rural residences, the house had low ceilings, so despite the two floors, it still hovered at a modest height before the roof tiles started to curve up. Its structure was narrow, though. The first floor was a living space, so the second floor had to be a bedroom. There was little room for anything else.

“Roma,” she said. With a wince of effort, Juliette pushed the heavy window glass up. “Give me a boost, would you?”

At times like these, she really missed her American dresses. She might have been able to pull herself through if her qipao fabric didn’t press so tightly around her hips. Fortunately, Roma was quick to grab her waist and lift her to the ledge, letting her swivel on the window and pull her legs in before hopping into the house.

The back door was wide open. Juliette scanned the living room, then immediately shot her gaze up the stairs, where she heard the barest grunt of movement.

Roma climbed in through the small window frame too, landing on the wooden floorboards firmly.

“Cover me.”

Roma shifted instantly, surveying the back door while Juliette charged up the stairs. “Be careful.”