Death Doesn't Forget

by Ed Lin Narrated by Ewan Chung

Overview

Taipei is rocked by the back-to-back murders of a recent lottery winner and a police captain just as the city is preparing to host the big Austronesian Cultural Festival, which has brought in indigenous performers from all around the Pacific
Rim to the island nation of Taiwan. Jing-nan, the proprietor of Unknown Pleasures, a popular food stand at Taipei's largest night market, is thrown into the intrigue. Is he being set up to take the rap, or will he be the next victim? The
fallout could jeopardize Jing-nan's relationship with his girlfriend, Nancy, who is herself soon caught up in the drama, and is increasingly annoyed at Jing-nan's failure to propose to her.
Jing-nan also has to be careful not to alienate his trusty workers Dwayne and Frankie the Cat, who are facing their own personal trials. Dwayne struggles to reconnect with his roots as a person of aboriginal descent, while septuagenarian
Frankie helps a fellow veteran with dementia, intertwining stories that illuminate decades of Taiwanese history.
Jing-nan, meanwhile, has to untangle the mystery of the killings while keeping his food stall afloat against hip new competition. Both his life, and his Instagram follower count, hang in the balance.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

05/02/2022

In Lin’s intriguing fourth novel starring Taipei food stall operator Jing-nan (after 2018’s 99 Ways to Die), Siu-lien, the mother of Jing-nan’s girlfriend, buys some cigarettes for her boyfriend, Boxer, and the receipt’s number is drawn in the latest government lottery, winning her 200,000 New Taiwan dollars. (To track taxable income, every receipt in Taiwan is automatically entered in this lottery, incentivizing consumers to request one.) Boxer and Siu-lien agree to split the money evenly, but after he cashes in the receipt, he reneges on their agreement. Jing-nan, who has become a celebrity thanks to his previous misadventures, agrees to try to recoup Siu-lien’s share, but he gets only a small portion of it from Boxer. Soon afterward, Boxer is bludgeoned to death, and the police focus on Jing-nan, the last person known to have seen him alive, and with a motive, as the killer. Lin ups the ante on his lead with a second murder, and once again he brings to life the sights and smells of the night market where Jing-nan works. Fans of recognizably human amateur sleuths will be pleased. Agent: Kirby Kim, Janklow & Nesbit Assoc. (July)

From the Publisher

Praise for Death Doesn't Forget

A New York Times Book Review Editors’ Choice
A CrimeReads Most Anticipated Crime Book of Summer

“[An] inventively humanistic work, one with welcome instances of love, religious questioning (through a variety of faiths) and one terrifically effective episode of magical surrealism.”
—Tom Nolan, The Wall Street Journal

“There is a marvelously mordant quality to Ed Lin’s novels, which combine depictions of the darkest criminality with a sense of the absurd.”
—Sarah Weinman, The New York Times Book Review

“A master of Taipei noir [Ed Lin] proves every good crime novel is a social novel . . . What differentiates Death Doesn’t Forget is its sense not of despair but of equanimity. The future is unwritten, in other words; it must be lived to be revealed.”
—David L. Ulin, Los Angeles Times

“Instead of a picture postcard view that tourists might get of museums, memorial halls and tea houses of Taipei, Author Lin offers us a slice of the gritty street life there. As a bonus, he makes us aware of the social and political challenges faced by this island nation.”
—International Examiner

“As addictive as the marinated, savory skewers sold at protagonist Jing-nan’s food stand ‘Unknown Pleasures’ . . . Death Doesn’t Forget is serio-comic; more of rollicking picaresque caper novel than crime story, reminiscent of fiction by the versatile late Donald E. Westlake and Carl Hiaasen”
—BookTrib

“Ed Lin weaves a funny and biting picture of Taiwan’s political and social fabric, commenting on its disenfranchised — and most importantly, its food . . . Simply impressive.”
—Taipei Times

“For fans of amateur sleuths who want to armchair travel while armchair sleuthing.”
—Book Riot

“We’re treated to Lin’s always wonderful array of characters, bits of Taiwanese history, and explanations of the current political scene—all without feeling like we’re in school. Lin is definitely a satirist, but this novel is deeply poignant at the same time.”
—First Clue

“Lin's signature rollicking mixture of wink-wink noir and impossible fortuity is again on full display, balancing just enough chill with plenty of thrill. Murder is never funny, but at least a chuckle here and a guffaw there can't hurt the corpses.”
—Shelf Awareness

“With its great suspense and plot development, Death Doesn't Forget is good fun all-round.”
—BookPage

“[Death Doesn't Forget] takes readers on a tour of everyday Taipei, balancing exposure of sobering gender inequalities, marginalized aboriginals, and cowboy policing with irreverent wit.”
—Booklist

“Jing-Nan, the coolest crime solver around, is back slinging food and solving crimes.”
—CrimeReads

“Death Doesn’t Forget is a mystery novel that balances growth and intrigue with an exploration of a busy city that sees everything.”
—Foreword Reviews

“More than action thrillers, Lin’s delightful ‘Taipei Night Market’ novels are stories of character and place . . . If readers haven’t tried Lin’s stylish mysteries, here’s a good place to start.”
—Library Journal

“This mystery has the same big pluses and small minus as the earlier ones by Ed Lin: The plot is lively, the characters unusual and well motivated, and the scenes are intriguing and unusual . . . For any shelf of Taiwan or international crime fiction, Ed Lin's books are a must. They hold up to re-reading, too.”
—Kingdom Books

“Death Doesn’t Forget may be your first Ed Lin novel, but it surely won’t be your last. Lin is a master of conveying a lot of fascinating information via a toe-tapping plot and characters who are realistic, flawed, pragmatic and deeply immersed in a society and culture that’s engagingly foreign to US readers.”
—The Agony Column

“What lingers in the memory, as always in the Taipei Night Market novels, is the flavorsome portrait of the city, this time with particular and highly effective attention to its Aboriginal Australian population.”
—Kirkus Reviews

“Intriguing . . . Fans of recognizably human amateur sleuths will be pleased.”
—Publishers Weekly

Praise for the Taipei Night Market Novels

“If you’re looking for a book that will both transport you to the streets of Taipei and have you laughing out loud, Ed Lin’s Taipei Night Market series is unmissable.”
—Amazon Book Review

“A stylish, smart thriller for the mind, heart, and gut. Sex, music, history, politics, food, humor, and just a touch of violence and death—you get it all. And when you're done, you’ll beg for more.”
—Viet Thanh Nguyen, Pulitzer Prize–winning author of The Sympathizer
 
“A unique blend of tension, charm, tragedy and optimism, with characters you’ll love, and a setting so real you’ll think you’ve been there.”
—Lee Child

“A sidewalk noodle shop in Taipei’s Shilin Night Market during summer’s Ghost Month is the vivid backdrop . . . The plot twists come fast and furious as the story reaches its climax. Come for the exotic food and fascinating setting; stay for the characters.”
—The Boston Globe
 
“Covers Taiwan’s complicated political identity and relationship with mainland China, all during one of the most remarkable times of the year: Ghost Month.”
—To the Best of Our Knowledge

“Pure and perfect suspense and a book that is almost impossible to put down.”
—Crimespree Magazine

BookRiot

For fans of amateur sleuths who want to armchair travel while armchair sleuthing.”

CrimeReads

Jing-Nan, the coolest crime solver around, is back slinging food and solving crimes.”

Shelf Awareness

Lin’s signature rollicking mixture of wink-wink noir and impossible fortuity is again on full display, balancing just enough chill with plenty of thrill. Murder is never funny, but at least a chuckle here and a guffaw there can’t hurt the corpses.”

BookPage

With its great suspense and plot development, Death Doesn’t Forget is good fun all-round.”

Library Journal

05/01/2022

More than action thrillers, Lin's delightful "Taipei Night Market" novels are stories of character and place. Jing-nan owns a popular food stall in Taipei. He's not the hero type, but trouble repeatedly finds him; he has to extricate himself from complications he didn't ask for and isn't prepared to address. In this case, it's murder—two of them. The lowlife boyfriend of the estranged mother of Jing-nan's girlfriend Nancy absconds with family money; Nancy asks Jing-nan to act as go-between in retrieving it. The boyfriend is found murdered after Jing-nan's visit, and a police captain who hates Jing-nan arrests him, ordering torture in an attempt to extort a confession. Jing-nan is eventually set free, but then the captain is murdered. Jing-nan, Nancy, Nancy's mother, and Jing-nan's trusty employees Frankie the Cat and Dwayne are drawn into the increasingly confusing hunt for the real killer. The resolution of Lin's series fourth (after 99 Ways To Die) pushes the bounds of believability but has a rousing finale. VERDICT Once again, it's hellzapoppin' time in Taipei. If readers haven't tried Lin's stylish mysteries, here's a good place to start.—David Keymer

Kirkus Reviews

2022-04-27
A big Taipei lottery prize spells disaster for the winner and everyone around him.

The preliminary squabbles between Boxer, a grifting bartender and bouncer in the BaBa Bar, and his live-in girlfriend, BaBa barmaid Siu-lien, about whom the promised NT$200,000 really belongs to, signal further troubles to come. Of course Boxer will claim the money without Siu-lien; of course he’ll throw around much of it before he has to see her again; of course he’ll go back to the pigsty he was living in before they moved in together while he still has some cash on hand. When Siu-lien asks her daughter Nancy’s boyfriend, Chen Jing-nan, to face Boxer down and demand Siu-lien’s share, he succeeds in extracting only NT$21,500 from him, which he describes as good news and bad news. But no one would have predicted that Boxer would be slashed to death shortly afterward, or that Jing-nan, spotted by security cameras leaving Boxer’s building around the time of his death, would be arrested by Capt. Huang, carried off from Unknown Pleasures, the food stand he runs in the Shilin Night Market, and tortured in hope of extracting a confession. And certainly no one would ever have predicted that the next victim would be Capt. Huang himself. After these twists, the identification of the killer comes as less of a surprise; what lingers in the memory, as always in the Taipei Night Market novels, is the flavorsome portrait of the city, this time with particular and highly effective attention to its Aboriginal Australian population.

Maybe not better than a trip to Taipei but more likely in these troubled times.

Product Details

BN ID:	2940178689158
Publisher:	Recorded Books, LLC
Publication date:	07/19/2022
Series:	Taipei Night Market , #4
Edition description:	Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1
 
On the morning of the last full day of his life, Boxer pulled the corners of the 7-Eleven sales receipt flat onto the desk with his thumbs and index fingers. He was afraid the slip of paper would lift up its edges and fly away. Reluctantly, Boxer lifted his right hand and gingerly picked up his phone.
     The display read 8:03 a.m., a few hours before he usually woke up. He pressed the home button and tapped the Ministry of Finance app, the one that automatically reads QR codes. He muted the phone, focused the camera on the receipt, and tried to hold his hands still.
     Maybe it had all been a dream. Maybe Boxer was in for yet another rude awakening.
     The phone buzzed and a pop-up message indicated that the receipt was indeed a winner in the latest drawing—200,000 New Taiwan dollars in cash! That was as much as he made in half a year.
     He thought about his old friends, guys he had known since they shoplifted candy together. Boxer and his friends had learned a lesson early on: leave the tourists alone. One time, when Boxer was eight years old, he asked a white couple by Longshan Temple for change. He wasn’t even trying to pickpocket them, but a policeman had dragged him into an alley, and beat and kicked him until he passed out.
     He touched his right eyebrow at the memory of the thrashing. As a grown man, he understood now what had set off the policeman. What would happen if the visitors went to the local precinct and complained about the beggar boys? The cop would have been demoted or fired because it had happened on his beat. Moreover, if Taiwan’s reputation wasn’t good, no one would visit and spend like they were handing out play money. Whenever they paid for things, tourists always chuckled to themselves.
     The trick to avoiding harassment was to rip off other Taiwanese. Boxer did so for a long time. He and his friends stole scooters and bicycles for years. The gang only broke up as its members moved on to bigger things.
     Tiger, who had deep pockmarks like black dots on a big cat’s face, started hanging out in clubs and selling drugs for a syndicate. He had died in jail.
     Ah Quan had moved into computer fraud early, with fake magnetic strips to withdraw money from ATMs. One day he disappeared. Boxer had heard that Ah Quan changed his name, moved south, and became a legitimate programmer.
     Jessy was a rich kid who just wanted to steal. He was sloppy and his dad got him out of trouble so many times. Finally, enough was enough and his father shipped him off to Canada.
     I’m the only one of my generation striving in the streets of Taipei, thought Boxer, but my day has finally come. Now that he was sitting pretty, he could call up his co-workers at the bar and show them how much they had underestimated him.
      “Boxer is really a generous guy!” he could hear them say. He would ply them with food, drink, and maybe more, depending on how appreciative they were.
     He just had to get the money first.
     Most receipts could be redeemed at convenience store chains like 7-Eleven and FamilyMart. But his prize was far above the NT$1,000 limit. He had to go to a bank to collect. If he wanted to get to the closest Chang Hwa Bank branch when it opened at nine, he had to leave soon.
     The thought of leaving the apartment gave him a panic attack. Boxer clamped his entire left hand flat over the receipt in case it started yelling.
     He had to make sure not to wake up Siu-lien!
     Boxer cautiously turned his head, expecting to find her still asleep beneath the threadbare sheets. Instead, Siu-lien was sitting up in bed, her arms hugging her folded knees.
     “I heard your phone buzz,” she said, her words and eyes tired and angry. “The sound of that receipt checker woke me up.”
     Boxer cleared his throat.
     “Good morning, honey,” he said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
     You mean you didn’t want to wake me because you wanted to get the money for yourself,” she threw back at him. “That’s my winning receipt you have over there, right?”
      “Our receipt,” Boxer said too loudly and too quickly. “You paid for the cigarettes, but if I didn’t ask you to buy them for me, we wouldn’t have won.”
 
 
Every paper receipt in Taiwan is a lottery ticket for cash prizes from the government. It’s the Ministry of Finance’s way of ensuring that people ask for receipts for their purchases. When the QR codes are scanned for lottery winnings, they create electronic trails of taxable income that can be checked against businesses that try to cheat. The tax money that came in far outweighed the monthly prizes, which topped out at NT$10 million—about 340,000 American dollars. If you hit that, you could move to America.
     Boxer and Siu-lien hadn’t been good about keeping receipts. The agency only held drawings every two months, and the government counted on people like them to discard potential big winners or put them through the wash. The latest drawing had been held a few weeks ago, but Boxer and Siu-lien only managed to retrieve receipts from their pockets and wastebaskets last night to check them. The first seven were all duds. The very last one caused Boxer’s phone to exclaim “You’ve won!” in a chipper cybergirl voice.
     They were amused at first. “Free bag of chips,” Boxer said. Then they read what the app said.
 
 
“We’re lucky that I smoke,” Boxer declared, smiling as if to offer his yellow and purple teeth for proof of his habit. “And you’ve been trying to get me to quit for years.”
      “We’re lucky that I managed to hold on to that receipt!” Siu-lien said.
     Boxer picked at the mole on the side of his chin. “We said we’d split the money evenly.”
     Finally, Siu-lien wavered. “We did,” she said.
     He stood up triumphantly with as much dignity as a lanky, shirtless functioning alcoholic could muster. “I’m going to the bank now to get our money.”
     Siu-lien slid across the mattress and put her feet on the floor. “Hold on, Boxer. I’m coming, too!”
     Boxer shoved the receipt to the bottom of his left pants pocket and wagged a finger at her with his right hand. “You don’t trust me, huh?” He snatched a work shirt from the back of the chair and punched his arms through the short sleeves. “You never think I’m good enough for you, Siu-lien. Is that it? Are you trying to make me leave you?”
     She sat on the side of the bed and put one foot on top of the other. “Of course I trust you, Boxer. I just think we should both be there in person. Don’t you think it’s something we should do together?”
     His shirt was now on, and he was finishing the fifth and last intact button. “Don’t get sentimental on me,” said Boxer. “It’s just money.”
     He scratched his right ear and tried to stand straight. Siulien reminded him of a judge who had considered his fate back when he was a juvenile. She had known, just as Siulien surely did now, that Boxer was likely to deviate from The Good, but if called out on his bad intentions, he would deny them, and later do something even worse to make up for being humiliated.
      “Okay,” said Siu-lien. “I’ll see you at work, then, Boxer.” She knew well enough not to expect him to come straight home with the money without meeting up with his friends and treating them. That lot wouldn’t crawl out of bed before noon to search for a legitimate job, but they would throw something on and wash their faces for free treats. The best outcome was for him to show up at the bar with her half of the money intact.
     Siu-lien and Boxer both worked at a dive called BaBa Bar near Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall Station. He was a combination bartender-bouncer for the rougher and younger crowd at the basement level. She poured drinks on the ground floor for the older men who still called her young lady.
     Boxer shoved his right foot into a sandal and regarded Siu-lien in the sticky orange sunlight. She was still pretty, especially when you first saw her, like a colorful beach stone still wet from the tide. After you got it home and it was dry, you’d see that it was whitening in places and had a number of surface imperfections. You’d still keep the rock, though.
     Siu-lien examined Boxer as he crouched to gingerly put on his left sandal. The strap was coming apart and the puckering leather was rubbing the skin between his toes raw. Boxer looked much older than 45, and Siu-lien noted that as he straightened up, popping sounds came from his bones. He sighed when finally erect.
     “I’ll see you tonight,” he said. “I’ll definitely leave your share of the money untouched,” he added, gathering his hands together in a promise to her and a prayer that he could keep his word.
     Siu-lien gave a grim smile and smoothed the sheet around her.

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