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Authors: S. J. Rozan
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Pacific seaman’s equivalent of the Brooklyn Bridge. If you were particularly clueless, some guy would always offer to sell you the Shanghai Moon.”
“A brooch,” Mr. Friedman agreed. “And lost. Listen to Scott and Huber. ‘One of the more recent pieces in this volume, the Shanghai Moon is also the most mysterious. Its story is unverified, but there is general agreement on the basic facts: In Shanghai in 1941, a young couple brought a jade disc and a diamond necklace to a jeweler whoseidentity has been lost. The couple were a Jewish refugee from Salzburg, Rosalie Gilder—’ ”
“
Rosalie?
”
Mr. Friedman stopped, peering over the glasses.
“I’m sorry!” I said. “Go on. That gem is
Rosalie’s
? Who was the man?”
The jeweler went back to the page. “ ‘Rosalie Gilder, and a Shanghainese named Chen Kai-rong. Secretly—’ ”
“Kai-rong! Oh! Oh, good! No, I’m sorry, go on.”
He lowered the book. “Ms. Chin? You don’t know the Shanghai Moon, but you know these people?”
“I’ve read some letters. Her letters. From when she met him. That’s all. Please go on.”
“Letters?”
“At the Jewish Museum. In the Holocaust archives.”
“Ah.” He nodded slowly and resumed. “ ‘Secretly betrothed, the pair asked the jeweler to combine the jade, an heirloom of the Chen family, with the stones from the necklace, which had been Rosalie Gilder’s mother’s. The resulting brooch was known as the Shanghai Moon. Worn by the young woman at their wedding the following year, the Shanghai Moon was seen only rarely after that. It was variously reported sold, stolen, or destroyed; the most fanciful rumor had it in the possession of a German officer’s widow in a Japanese internment camp. None of these stories was ever proved true. It remains most likely that Rosalie Gilder Chen, or in any event the Chen family, retained possession of the brooch throughout the war.’
“ ‘Jewish refugees leaving Shanghai after the war took with them rumors of the Shanghai Moon’s splendor, asdid repatriated European and Japanese nationals. How many of these people had actually seen the brooch is unknown, but its legend grew.’ ”
Here Stanley Friedman looked over his glasses, then went back to reading. “ ‘For four years following the Second World War, civil war raged in China. Occasional accounts of sightings of the Shanghai Moon reached the West, none verifiable. In 1949, as the Bamboo Curtain fell across the early days of the People’s Republic, the brooch was said to be in Kobe, Japan; in Bangkok; and in Singapore. Over the years stories have put the Shanghai Moon in such places as Taipei, Hong Kong, and San Francisco, and collectors have followed; but to date every search has been fruitless.’ ”
Finished, Friedman took off his glasses and passed the book to us. The glossy white page opposite the entry was conspicuously empty except for these words:
THE SHANGHAI MOON
VALUE: UNKNOWN
(NO ILLUSTRATION)
I looked up at Stanley Friedman. “This is what should have been with Rosalie’s jewelry? The Shanghai Moon?”
“Should, who can say? But this story, I heard it when I was young. Even then, I was a practical man. I paid no attention. It was a legend, you see, this gem.” He folded his glasses and slipped them into his pocket. “So for sixty years, no one sees these pieces that were Rosalie Gilder’s. Everyone starts to think like Stanley Friedman: They’re amyth, the Shanghai Moon’s a myth, it’s all a romantic story from bad times. But now? Suddenly, here they are, these pieces, and suddenly, your partner’s killed. These, they don’t look to me like something worth killing over. Especially, they’re not worth killing someone who hasn’t found them.”
“But the Shanghai Moon is?”
“Would I kill for it, or would you?” Stanley Friedman shrugged. “But if your partner had caught its scent—Ms. Chin, there are people who’ve been looking for the Shanghai Moon for a very
“A brooch,” Mr. Friedman agreed. “And lost. Listen to Scott and Huber. ‘One of the more recent pieces in this volume, the Shanghai Moon is also the most mysterious. Its story is unverified, but there is general agreement on the basic facts: In Shanghai in 1941, a young couple brought a jade disc and a diamond necklace to a jeweler whoseidentity has been lost. The couple were a Jewish refugee from Salzburg, Rosalie Gilder—’ ”
“
Rosalie?
”
Mr. Friedman stopped, peering over the glasses.
“I’m sorry!” I said. “Go on. That gem is
Rosalie’s
? Who was the man?”
The jeweler went back to the page. “ ‘Rosalie Gilder, and a Shanghainese named Chen Kai-rong. Secretly—’ ”
“Kai-rong! Oh! Oh, good! No, I’m sorry, go on.”
He lowered the book. “Ms. Chin? You don’t know the Shanghai Moon, but you know these people?”
“I’ve read some letters. Her letters. From when she met him. That’s all. Please go on.”
“Letters?”
“At the Jewish Museum. In the Holocaust archives.”
“Ah.” He nodded slowly and resumed. “ ‘Secretly betrothed, the pair asked the jeweler to combine the jade, an heirloom of the Chen family, with the stones from the necklace, which had been Rosalie Gilder’s mother’s. The resulting brooch was known as the Shanghai Moon. Worn by the young woman at their wedding the following year, the Shanghai Moon was seen only rarely after that. It was variously reported sold, stolen, or destroyed; the most fanciful rumor had it in the possession of a German officer’s widow in a Japanese internment camp. None of these stories was ever proved true. It remains most likely that Rosalie Gilder Chen, or in any event the Chen family, retained possession of the brooch throughout the war.’
“ ‘Jewish refugees leaving Shanghai after the war took with them rumors of the Shanghai Moon’s splendor, asdid repatriated European and Japanese nationals. How many of these people had actually seen the brooch is unknown, but its legend grew.’ ”
Here Stanley Friedman looked over his glasses, then went back to reading. “ ‘For four years following the Second World War, civil war raged in China. Occasional accounts of sightings of the Shanghai Moon reached the West, none verifiable. In 1949, as the Bamboo Curtain fell across the early days of the People’s Republic, the brooch was said to be in Kobe, Japan; in Bangkok; and in Singapore. Over the years stories have put the Shanghai Moon in such places as Taipei, Hong Kong, and San Francisco, and collectors have followed; but to date every search has been fruitless.’ ”
Finished, Friedman took off his glasses and passed the book to us. The glossy white page opposite the entry was conspicuously empty except for these words:
THE SHANGHAI MOON
VALUE: UNKNOWN
(NO ILLUSTRATION)
I looked up at Stanley Friedman. “This is what should have been with Rosalie’s jewelry? The Shanghai Moon?”
“Should, who can say? But this story, I heard it when I was young. Even then, I was a practical man. I paid no attention. It was a legend, you see, this gem.” He folded his glasses and slipped them into his pocket. “So for sixty years, no one sees these pieces that were Rosalie Gilder’s. Everyone starts to think like Stanley Friedman: They’re amyth, the Shanghai Moon’s a myth, it’s all a romantic story from bad times. But now? Suddenly, here they are, these pieces, and suddenly, your partner’s killed. These, they don’t look to me like something worth killing over. Especially, they’re not worth killing someone who hasn’t found them.”
“But the Shanghai Moon is?”
“Would I kill for it, or would you?” Stanley Friedman shrugged. “But if your partner had caught its scent—Ms. Chin, there are people who’ve been looking for the Shanghai Moon for a very
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