The Black Stiletto: Stars & Stripes by Raymond Benson Read Free Book Online Page B

He’s a dreamboat and a half! I’d follow him anywhere. All he’d have to do is blink those blue eyes at me. But he’s married to Joanne Woodward, so I guess that’s not gonna happen any time soon. The movie is on a double bill with
Suddenly, Last Summer
, which I’ve already seen, so I doubt we’ll stay for that. I didn’t like it very much, anyway.
    Ugh, the radio just started playing that awful “Running Bear” song. I can’t believe it’s number 1. When, oh, when is my Elvis going to put out another record? He’s supposed to come home from the army this year, and I think it’s soon!
    My bruises are finally starting to fade. My lip is healed, but scabbed a little, and my eye is back to normal. I was afraid I’d lose some vision; that blurriness lasted three days. I had resolved to go see an eye doctor if it didn’t show improvement by the fourth day, and thankfully it did. I’m still a little sore, but I’m much better. Needless to say, the Stiletto took some time off since that night in Chinatown.
    However, today at noon while Jimmy filled in for me, I went back to Elizabeth Street with the intention of having lunch at a Chinese restaurant, but I also wanted to see where the shootings had taken place. The streets in Chinatown were full of people, despite the cold weather. Mostly Chinese, but I did see a few Caucasians, probably there for lunch like me. The Lee Noodle Restaurant wasn’t open. A sign on the door was covered with Chinese writing, and the single English word, “Closed.” I picked a place across the street and sat at a table by the window. From there I could see Lee Noodle. I watched the building while I ate—had some delicious hot and sour soup, mu shu chicken, and hot tea—but I saw no signs of life.
    Then, just as I left my money on the table and got up to leave, I noticed lights on in the restaurant. I hadn’t seen them come on, but I was certain they were off a few minutes earlier. I left the restaurant and crossed the street. There’s a door next to the restaurant that leads to the apartments on the upper floors of the building. Apparently the family lived—hopefully they still did—in one of the apartments, because the name Lee was on a mailbox inside the door. As nonchalantly as I could, I put my face and hands to the restaurant’s glass door and peered inside. From there I couldn’t see the full restaurant, just the archway to the right that led to the dining room. I could make out half of the cash register counter, so I took a chance and knocked on the door. After a moment, the woman I’d seen that night appeared. She held up a finger and waved it back and forth. “Closed! Closed!” she said loudly behind the door. I didn’t know what I expected, but I simply smiled, nodded, and moved on. I guess I was hoping to see the boy, but then I realized it was a weekday and that he was probably at school. I don’t know what the Chinese traditions are concerning mourning, but I suppose it made sense that he’d be back to a normal schedule by now. Although nothing would ever be normal for him again. He had witnessed the murder of his father and uncle and participated in the defense of his mother and himself. I wondered if he talked to his friends about the Black Stiletto and how he had fought alongside her.
    A little voice in my head said I should forget about what happened that night and go on with my life. But my instincts, that gut feeling that has driven everything I’ve done since
I
was a teenager, told me that Chinatown hadn’t heard the last of the Black Stiletto.

6
Judy’s Diary
1960
    F EBRUARY 4, 1960
    I haven’t written because I haven’t had anything to say until tonight. For the past couple of weeks it’s been business as usual—running the gym, going to see Freddie, and getting my body back to normal. Freddie’s doing better.