A Killing Air

by Nigel Price

“I agree,” Harry said, adding, “Ryder,” to see if it would annoy the man. It didn’t appear to.

  Ignoring the poke, Chau continued. “You may not like the way we do things, but that is really none of your business. We are no longer the backward nation that the West successfully kept backward. This is our time now. Now it is our turn at the top of the tree. And you don’t like it. You should have reported the underpass mugging to the police, but you didn’t, thereby committing an offence. You then set upon some wild goose chase of your own, which resulted – as I understand it – in the death of the lawyer Mr Herbert Zhu.”

  “The murder of Herbert by the villagers,” Harry added. “Your villagers.”

  “They are not my villagers. Any more than they are my policemen. They are the rural poor of China, and you blundered into their village with all manner of wild assertions.” Ryder Chau stared hard at Harry. “I know of Mr Zhu. The man was a fool and a rabble-rouser.”

  “A fool who has investigated you in the past, I believe?”

  “A fool, Harry. Someone who was unable to see the need for control in a country the size of China. That said, his death is very unfortunate. And though they were provoked, the people responsible will be identified and brought to justice, once a full investigation has been carried out. Also, though you have no proof whatsoever, I will even see what I can do regarding the assault upon Mrs Yan.” His face was expressionless.

  Lisa cleared her throat, announcing her arrival in the debate. “Why do you call Herbert Zhu a fool, Mr Chau?”

  “Because while the government to which I have the honour to belong, is doing its best to modernise the country, people like him stand on the sidelines and complain.”

  Harry could see that the man was getting agitated. His fingers had found a pen and were turning it round and round on the shining desk top. One of them lifted for a moment and pointed at Lisa’s face. “People like you, like your organisation and its paper. If you had your way the country would fall apart. Nothing would get done.” He leaned forward, getting into his stride. All pretence of friendliness was gone. “Look at the Soviet Union. So long as it was held together by strong central government it flourished. The moment that control slackened …” he snapped his fingers, “… the whole thing fell apart. That could be China. And the foreign powers would love it.” He glared at Harry. “Nothing has changed in a hundred years. The western powers would love nothing more than to remove the growing competition of China again. And not just the western powers. Japan, Vietnam, the Philippines, Malaysia. All of them have claims in Chinese waters. Japan especially would love to see us removed as a regional competitor.”

  “And Mrs Yan? What happened to make her kill herself?” Lisa said.

  “Mrs Yan,” Chau repeated. He sat back in his chair and regarded her. Harry felt he detected a softening in him. “It was a tragic case, if I remember correctly. Anything concerning children is always a tragedy. Understandably it evokes strong emotions. We can all accept that.”

  “What happened?” Harry asked.

  Ryder Chau briefly looked to Miller as if for permission to continue. Miller shrugged, resigned to whatever was about to unfold.

  “Over the years I have done my utmost to help the poorest of China’s people. The rural poor. People like Mrs Yan and the farmers of her village.”

  Harry got the impression that he was listening to a political broadcast. It continued as Ryder Chau found his rhythm.

  “You have seen for yourself the level of their destitution. One way to relieve their poverty is to bring new industries to them. Modern jobs, so they no longer have to scratch around in the dirt for a living. Of course those who want to remain on the land and farm it can do so. But for those who want something better, something more modern, the best thing modern China can do for them is establish new businesses and new industries in their provinces. Places where they can leave the land and get good, well-paid jobs. Mrs Yan’s village is one where I did that.”

  “So nothing whatever to do with a contaminated water supply?” Harry said, trying to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

  Ryder Chau looked at Miller again. “You cannot blame Clive for trying to protect me, Harry. He is a loyal and faithful aide. He was just doing his job. No, it was nothing to do with the water supply. In all my ventures I have been very aware of the mistakes made in some places where industry or development has destroyed the environment. So I was very careful.”

  “Was that the complex near the village?” Lisa asked. “The site where huts had once stood?”

  Ryder Chau nodded. “So that’s where you went? I thought perhaps it might have been. Yes. That was one of several developments I had planned.”

  “And why were the huts torn down?” Harry asked. “What happened there?”

  “Torn down?” Ryder Chau laughed. “You’ve got it the wrong way round. The huts were never erected in the first place. You will perhaps have seen the office block. Why would we demolish a whole industrial site but leave one building standing? No, we only got as far as erecting the site office. It was furnished and staffed and used while the rest of the site was being prepared. But unfortunately we never got further than laying the foundations for the other buildings that would have followed. It was to have been the first of several such industrial estates. It would have given jobs to the whole village and others around the area. It would have transformed their lives.”

  He shook his head sadly.

  “So what happened?” Lisa prompted.

  “The project provided work for more people than the village could provide. Some had to remain in the village and work the fields. So with every spare man and woman employed, there was no one left to look after the children. So I provided a crèche.”

  An image of the line of graves stood starkly before Harry. The row of little stones in the desolate woodland below the village.

  “And?”

  “And one day, while all the villagers were at work at the building site, there was a fire. There were many deaths.”

  “The village children perished?”

  Chau nodded. “Yes.” He shrugged. “It was a terrible tragedy. It was no one’s fault. I believe a cooking stove was knocked over. Something caught fire from that, and before anyone could react, the whole building was ablaze. I can’t be sure, but I suspect Mrs Yan’s mind was unhinged by that. I think she lost her grandson in the fire.” He looked at Miller. “It was the grandson, wasn’t it, Clive?”

  Miller nodded. “Yes sir.”

  There was a stony silence in the room while Harry and Lisa digested the information. Neither looked at the other. Outside, the noises of the city were muted by the thick glass of the vast windows. The traffic sounds penetrated regardless, reminding them of a world that would always continue oblivious to the suffering and grief of any one individual. Mrs Yan unhinged by grief. It made a tragic kind of sense. Of course it did nothing to explain how she had fallen foul of the two murderous police thugs.

  “Forgive me for asking, Ryder,” Harry said, “but I suppose the fire was not exactly widely reported?”

  “Nothing especial was done to keep it quiet,” he answered. “There were reports in some of the local papers, but you must understand that in a country the size of China, these incidents are not as prominent as they would be in a country such as yours, Harry. These sorts of thing are very unfortunate. But in the push to modernise a country the size of China, and in the short space of time available, things like this are going to happen. Tragic, but …”

  “Unavoidable?” Harry offered.

  “I wish they were avoidable, but we live in the real world. I am sure you would agree that such a thing as a fire can happen anywhere. And when it does, it destroys not just lives, but the minds of those left behind. People like Mrs Yan.”

  “Indeed,” Harry said. He thought it was time to take things up a notch. “And what was the nature of the site you were building close to the village?” Harry asked.

  Ryder Chau noted the arrogance of
the question but was prepared to run with it for the moment. “I have a lot of businesses, Harry. Frankly I can’t recall the details of all of them.” He looked to Miller for help. “Clive?”

  “It was to have been a packaging plant. Preparing white goods for export. That was all,” Miller answered. “The goods themselves would have been the usual household items, and they are manufactured elsewhere. Some by companies belonging to Ryder, others by companies with wholly different ownership. That’s all the site was. We already have several others but when this one was activated, the plan was to close down the others. Consolidate them all on this one, larger site.”

  Harry looked at Ryder Chau who was a nodding dog, agreeing with everything his faithful aide had said. “Preparing goods for export?” Harry confirmed.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “To Japan?”

  Ryder Chau’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t answer.

  “On the Hideyoshi-maru?

  “My, my. You have been busy,” Chau remarked. “And nosey. I’m not sure what you are getting at?”

  Harry noticed the glance fired at Miller. It was invested with a wonderfully suppressed rage. “You’re a man who advocates a robust foreign policy towards the Japanese,” Harry answered.

  “And?”

  “And at the same time you trade with them?”

  Chau sniggered. “Hardly a crime. China has considerable trade with Japan. It doesn’t mean we don’t have disagreements with their government. Over lots of things. Their refusal to acknowledge war crimes from the 1930s and ’40s. Their spurious claims to various disputed islands. Lots of things.”

  “But for a man such as yourself, aiming for the highest office in a few days’ time, I can’t imagine it would look very good if it became common knowledge that you yourself, through your personal business enterprises, were benefiting from trade with Japan. I mean, how could people believe you had the tenacity to tackle such sensitive issues with one hand, while bartering goods and raking in profits with the other?”

  “I hope you’re not trying to blackmail me, Harry. It would be very foolish if you were. Apart from which, I can’t imagine you could prove what you are alleging.”

  “As I said at the beginning of our meeting, Ryder, I am just trying to get at the truth.”

  Ryder Chau studied Harry with bemused intensity. “And you know, I still don’t really get why.”

  Lisa said, “It’s me who wants the truth, Mr Chau. Harry has been helping me. It is my employer who wants the truth. It is my paper. It is the people of China who want the truth. And I think we deserve to know the truth about someone intending to lead our country.”

  Ryder Chau stared at her. “The people of China? How very presumptuous of you, Ms Tang. So you think you speak for the people of China? The people of China want to earn a good living. Without wishing to be crude, they want money. Sufficient freedom to go about amassing as much of it as they can. They don’t care about the things you seem to care about. Only a handful of western lackeys care about that. People like you, your boss, and the late Herbert Zhu. Maybe even, from time to time, an old peasant woman like Mrs Yan, for whatever mad personal reason might have motivated her.”

  He turned to Harry. “I suppose before she died, Mrs Yan spun some ridiculous story to you? Gave you some evidence of all this nonsense?”

  Harry smiled. “So that’s why your yobs ransacked our rooms at The Golden Lotus.”

  “More wild accusations, Harry. Any moment now I will have had enough of them. My patience is not inexhaustible.” He was about to say more but stopped himself. He looked across to Miller. “Clive, have they arrived yet?”

  “I’ll go and check.” Miller pulled himself off the dresser and left the room. Harry noticed that Chau’s minders stepped closer, eyes intent upon him. Ryder Chau spun his chair through ninety degrees and gazed out of the window.

  Harry went to stand. Instantly he felt a hand on his shoulder, pressing him into his seat. “I think Lisa and I have taken up enough of your time, Ryder. So we will be on our way now.”

  Without turning back to him, Ryder Chau answered, “Please stay where you are, Harry. I like my office. I don’t want it sullied by a scuffle.”

  The door opened and Miller reappeared. “They’re waiting downstairs, sir.”

  “Now you can get up and go,” Ryder Chau said, dismissing his guests.

  Harry caught Lisa’s quizzical glance. “Go where?”

  “Home, of course. To England. I do not wish to detain either of you any further. Of course as a security risk like her boss, Ms Tang will be under house arrest until after the National Congress. And you, Harry, are to be taken straight to the airport for a flight that has been booked for you. Your luggage from the conference hotel has been collected on your behalf. It will be given to you when you check in. The police will escort you onto the plane. In future you will find it impossible to get a visa to return to China. Ever. You only have yourself to blame for that. I am sorry if that impacts on your work but what did you expect?”

  “And in the meantime you get away with murder?”

  Ryder Chau was on his feet in a flash. “Be careful what you accuse me of, Harry Brown. You are not out of the country yet. Even in China there are libel laws. Unless you want to end up in a Chinese prison, you would do well to shut up.”

  The minders moved in, took a firm grip of both Harry and Lisa and marched them from the room. Down in the lobby, Harry saw new arrivals. A group of men in ill-fitting suits. More thugs, but ministry ones.

  Miller chortled off to a flank. “Bye-bye, Harry. I can’t say it’s been a pleasure. Have a smooth drive to Beijing Airport and a pleasant flight. I’m afraid it’s in cattle class, but you should consider yourself lucky you’re getting out at all.”

  He barked something at the Chengde policemen who had accompanied them in the mini-bus earlier. They lounged to one side, enjoying the show. Thug Pair stepped forward. They moved to flank Lisa.

  “These gentlemen will escort Ms Tang.” He grinned at Harry. “You needn’t worry. To ensure she is completely out of the way for the National Congress, Ryder wants her kept at his villa. She will be very comfortable. Your old underpass friends will see to that.”

  Lisa looked terrified. Harry made a move towards her. The odds were hopeless. The suits from Immigration jumped on him while Thug Pair dragged Lisa out of the reception area and down the steps to the old minibus. Harry’s last sight of her was through the rear window as it pulled away, her face staring back at him. The next moment he himself was being rushed down the steps to another vehicle. Bundled inside, the suits pressed in around him, ready for the slightest sign of resistance. Turning out into the light traffic, the vehicle shot off towards the highway at the start of its long drive to Beijing Airport and Harry’s expulsion from China.

  Thirty Five

  Harry had always flinched away from photographs of battery bear farms where Asiatic Black Bears were confined in crush cages, their bile harvested by grinning monsters for Chinese medicine. It was a practice that defied description by anyone rational and with the tiniest modicum of emotional intelligence. The people who did this were part of another species, certainly not homo sapiens. The vital pieces of heart and soul were absent.

  Now he felt a little like such a bear.

  The spectacle of Lisa being taken away in the custody of the same two thugs who had repeatedly punched an old woman, maddened him. Miller had gone to his own car and driven off as Harry was being taken away by the immigration officials. He had leered triumphantly and, with a nod at Lisa’s departing vehicle, had called out something crude. He had a fair inkling of the effect such a taunt would have on Harry and he was right.

  Harry knew that in China, people like Ryder Chau and their henchmen could get away with whatever they pleased. Those who crossed them disappeared. The thought of that happening to Lisa was the knife and the syringe digging through his underbelly stabbing towards his internal organs, while he remained pinioned and helpless. Mad
dened with confinement. At least he was not being tortured by an alien species. But Lisa?

  His instinct was to let rip. He took the measure of the men around him. It would be tough, but he reckoned it just might be doable. He’d have to make the blows count. Nasty ones. Killers. But he reckoned he might just be able to manage it and break out.

  Then what? He’d be somewhere along a highway. Hunted. The odds were stacked massively against him. In all likelihood he’d be caught and killed. At best imprisoned. How would any of that help Lisa?

  So he sat immobile in his seat, hemmed in by his minders and a frustration that threatened to overpower him or drive him mad. He drew on every shred of self-control to hold himself in check. He shrank in his seat, glued to it, eyes facing straight ahead, sullen and subdued. His escorts mistook it for submission. They relaxed. Which piled yet more pressure on Harry. He felt them drift off guard, which made it all the harder to keep his fists to himself. They lay in his lap like unused power tools. He looked at them. Wondered to what use he might put them. What he could construct or demolish with them. For now, nothing.

  The miles rolled by. The closer they got to Beijing, the greyer the sky, the more confined the visibility. He wondered how long the current bout of smog would stick around. Surely everyone would have been gassed to death by the time a storm blew in and sluiced it away? He looked at the surrounding countryside. The very term ‘countryside’ was a misnomer. It was flat and open and empty. Like being on a billiard table, but one strewn with the detritus of a lost civilisation. Squat concrete blockhouses masqueraded as homes, each covered with thick brown dust. Earth was parched, for the moment any rain ceased, the soil would suck it dry. And overhead and on all sides, the air stiff with lung-clogging filth. All manner of gases, fumes and particles.

  One of Harry’s guards lit a cigarette. Thoughtfully he opened a window. A short while later he closed it, his own smoke being the lesser evil when compared to the air outside.

  Harry hung his head and closed his eyes, leafing through the myriad thoughts that tumbled through his brain. Options, plans, intentions. Of one thing he was certain. The moment he was on that plane and lifting off the runway, it would all be over. Unable to return to China, there was every chance he would lose his job. Far more important than that was Lisa. Their adventure had given him a renewed sense of purpose. After floundering for so long, with her he had found something. Some strange, hidden treasure and he still didn’t fully understand what it was. What he did know was that he mustn’t get on the plane. Somehow he had to stay in China and finish what he and Lisa had started. The question was: how?