Vera Wong's Unsolicited Advice for Murderers

tugs at Julia’s heartstrings,

now it hits her.

loaded to the brim.

They all laugh until their sides hurt,

“Oh, you are up early,” Vera says. “No judgment, of course, but usually you let the whole morning pass by before you wake up.”

“You do realize saying ‘no judgment’ before saying something very judgy doesn’t make it less judgy?”

“This is—it’s good. Very good.”

Tilly whistles. “Coming from her, I think it’s akin to a standing ovation.”

She shoots him a glare, and he grins and hugs her. “Come on, Ma. Just admit it. Sana’s artwork blew your mind.”

Vera releases her breath in a long sigh. “Okay, Sana’s artwork is more good than anything I see before.”

“Dang, that’s quite the compliment,” Julia says, nudging Sana, who’s red in the face and grinning.

“You like it?” Sana says. “Really?”

“Yes, better than when I give birth to Tilly.”

“Ooof,” Tilly says. Oliver pats his shoulder.

“Nothing personal, Tilly,” Vera says, “is just that you a very ugly baby.”

“Yep, nothing personal about that, Ma.”

Tilly tells Vera that he’s asked his colleague to represent her in case the cops come after her for tampering with evidence, but
Vera brushes him away, saying she would love to see them try. She shoots Gladys a glare as she says this, but the other woman has wisely decided to pretend to be asleep.

Sana usually brings with her something unhealthy but exciting, like samosas, at which Gladys squawks, “Do you know what those things do to your cholesterol?” Vera urges Sana to bring cocaine, not to snort, of course, just to see what Gladys will say, but thus far has been refused. Young people nowadays are so dreadfully boring.

The door opens again, and an Asian guy in his twenties walks in. He stops when he sees the crowd, and checks the number on the door. “Uh, is this where Vera Wong is?”

“Yeah,” Oliver says.

The guy stares at them. “Who are you?”

“We’re her family,” Julia says. “Who’re you?”

“Uh . . . I’m her son?”

Sana narrows her eyes. “The famous Tilly. We’ve got a lot to talk to you about how you treat your mother, young man.” It strikes Sana that Tilly is probably older than she is, but she chooses to ignore that fact for now.

Tilly’s mouth drops open. “It’s Tilbert, actually.”

“Hmm,” Julia says in a way that reminds Sana very much of Vera. “We’ll see about that, Tilly.”

“I don’t understand. So who killed Marshall? Vera, you said you’d figured it out! Who was it? Who killed him? Who broke into your shop?”

“I don’t know who kill Marshall,” Vera says quietly, “but I know who break into my shop.”

“What?” they all say as one.

“I break into my shop,” Vera says.

“What?” they all say again.

Vera sighs. “I come down one morning and I see that things have been move around. Some jars go missing.”

“Which jars?” Riki asks. “I mean, are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure. I know how I arrange my shop, don’t be silly. But I think to myself, would the police take me seriously? They don’t take Marshall’s death seriously, why would they take me seriously when I tell them that someone steal into my shop? They will ask, how much did the thief take? Well, no money is missing. What was taken? I don’t know, I just know that my jars are moved. And I am sure it’s the killer come back to look for the flash drive. So I decide, okay, I will take control of situation. The killer is too cunning to make it obvious, so I will make it obvious. Make it clear that someone break in, keep all of us working on a common goal: solving Marshall murder. So I do that.”

“You smashed up your own shop to make it look more obvious that someone broke in?” Sana says, her eyes as round as dinner plates. “All those jars—”

“It hurt me to break them all like that,” Vera says, “but I am willing to do anything to find killer.”