Robert Ludlum - Bourne 2 - Bourne Supremecy

by The Bourne Supremacy [lit]

  'Why?'

  'I explained it to you! I wrote it down for you-'

  'Because you go to school and write somewhat better than I do does not make you boss-boss here.'

  'You cannot write at all! You were shit-shit afraid! You called for me when the man on the telephone said it was a police emergency. You illiterates always run from the police. That was the car, the green Mitsubishi I parked on Level Two! If you won't call the police, you must call the owner.'

  There are things they don't teach you in school, boy with small organ.'

  They teach us not to go against the police. It is bad joss.'

  'I will call the police - or better you may be their hero.'

  'Good!'

  'After the two women return and I have a short talk with the driver.'

  'What?'

  'She thought she was giving me - us - two dollars, but it was eleven. One of the bills was a ten-dollar note. She was very nervous, very upset. She is frightened. She did not watch her money.'

  'You said it was two dollars!'

  'And now I'm being honest. Would I be honest with you if I did not have both our interests in my heart?'

  'In what way?'

  'I will tell this rich, frightened American - she spoke American - that you and I have not called back the police on her behalf. She will reward us on the spot - very, very generously - for she will understand that she may not retrieve her car without doing so. You may watch me from inside the garage by the other telephone. After she pays I will send another boy for her car, which he will have great trouble finding for I will give him the wrong location, and you will call the police. The police will arrive, we will have done our heavenly duty, and had a night of money like few other nights in this miserable job.'

  The parking boy squinted, shaking his head. 'You're right,' he said. They don't teach such things in school. And I suppose I do not have a choice.'

  'Oh, but you do,' said the attendant, pulling a long knife from his belt. 'You can say no, and I will cut out your talk-talk tongue.'

  Catherine approached the concierge's desk in the Mandarin lobby, annoyed that she did not know either of the two clerks behind the counter. She needed a favour quickly, and in Hong Kong that meant dealing with a person one knew. Then to her relief she spotted the evening shift's Number 1 concierge. He was in the middle of the lobby trying to mollify an excited guest. She moved to the right and waited, hoping to catch Lee Teng's eye. She had cultivated Teng, sending numerous Canadians to him when problems of convenience had seemed insurmountable. He had always been paid handsomely.

  'Yes, may I be of help, Mrs?' said the young Chinese clerk moving in front of Staples.

  'I'll wait for Mr Teng, if you please.'

  'Mr Teng is very busy, Mrs. A very bad time for Mr Teng. You are a guest of the Mandarin, Mrs?'

  'I'm a resident of the territory and an old friend of Mr

  Teng. Where possible I bring my business here so the desk gets the credit.'

  'Ohh... The clerk responded to Catherine's non-tourist status. He leaned forward, speaking confidentially. 'Lee Teng has terrible joss tonight. The lady goes to the grand ball at Government House but her clothes go to Bangkok. She must think Mr Teng has wings under his jacket and jet engines in his armpits, yes?'

  'An interesting concept. The lady just flew in?'

  'Yes, Mrs. But she had many pieces of luggage. She did not miss the one she misses now. She blames first her husband and now Lee Teng.'

  'Where's her husband?'

  'In the bar. He offered to take the next plane to Bangkok but his kindness only made his wife angrier. He will not leave the bar, and he will not get to Government House in a way that will make him pleased with himself in the morning. Bad joss all around... Perhaps I can be of assistance to you while Mr Teng does his best to calm everybody.'

  'I want to rent a car and I need one as fast as you can get it for me.'

  'Aiya,'' said the clerk. 'It is seven o'clock at night and the rental offices do little leasing in the evening hours. Most are closed.'

  I'm sure there are exceptions.'

  'Perhaps a hotel car with a chauffeur?'

  'Only if there's nothing else available. As I mentioned, I'm not a guest here and, frankly, I'm not made of money.'

  '"Who among us"?' asked the clerk enigmatically. 'As the good Christian Book says - somewhere, I think.'

  'Sounds right,' agreed Staples. 'Please, get on the phone and do your best.'

  The young man reached beneath the counter and pulled out a plastic bound list of car rental agencies. He went to a telephone several feet to his right, picked it up and started dialling. Catherine looked over at Lee Teng; he had steered his irate lady to the wall by a miniature palm in an obvious attempt to keep her from alarming the other guests who sat around the ornate lobby greeting friends and ordering cocktails. He was speaking rapidly, softly, and, by God, thought Staples, he was actually getting her attention. Whatever her legitimate complaints, mused Catherine, the woman was an ass. She wore a chinchilla stole in just about the worst climate on earth for such delicate fur. Not that she, Foreign Service Officer Staples, ever had the problem of such a decision. She might have if she had chucked the FSO status and stuck with Owen Staples. The son of a bitch owned at least four banks in Toronto now. Not a bad sort, really, and to add to her sense of guilt, Owen had never remarried. Not fair, Owen! She had run across him three years ago, after her stint in Europe, while attending a British-organized conference in Toronto. They had had drinks at the Mayfair Club in the King Edward Hotel, not so unlike the Mandarin, actually.

  'Come on, Owen. Your looks, your money - and you had the looks before your money - why not? There are a thousand beautiful girls within a five-block radius who'd grab you.'

  'Once was enough, Cathy. You taught me that.'

  'I don't know, but you make me feel - oh, I don't know -somehow so guilty. I left you, Owen, but not because I wasn't fond of you.'

  '"Fond" of me?'

  'You know what I mean.'

  'Yes, I think so.' Owen had laughed. 'You left me for all the right reasons, and I accepted your leaving without animus for likeminded reasons. If you had waited five minutes longer, I think I would have thrown you out. I'd paid the rent that month.'

  'You bastard!'

  'Not at all, neither of us. You had your ambitions and I had mine. They simply weren't compatible.'

  'But that doesn't explain why you never remarried.'

  'I just told you. You taught me, my dear.'

  Taught you what? That all ambitions were incompatible?'

  'Where they existed in our extremes, yes. You see, I learned that I wasn't interested on any permanent basis in anyone who didn't have what I suppose you'd call a passionate "drive", or an overriding ambition, but I couldn't live with such a person day in and day out. And those without ambition left something wanting in our relationships. No permanency there.'

  'But what about a family? Children?'

  'I have two children,' Owen had said quietly. 'Of whom I'm immensely fond. I love them very much, and their very ambitious mothers have been terribly kind. Even their subsequent respective husbands have been understanding. While they were growing up, I saw my children constantly. So, in a sense, I had three families. Quite civilized, if frequently confusing.'

  ' You! The paragon of the community, the banker's banker.' The man they said took a shower in a Dickens nightshirt! A deacon of the church!'

  'I gave that up when you left. At any rate, it was simply statecraft on my part. You practise it every day.'

  'Owen, you never told me.'

  'You never asked, Cathy. You had your ambitions and I had mine. But I will tell you my one regret, if you want to hear it.'

  'I do.'

  'I'm genuinely sorry that we never had a child together. Judging by the two I have, he or she would have been quite marvellous.'

  'You bastard, I'm going to cry.'

  'Please don't. Let's be honest, neither of u
s has any regrets.'

  Catherine's reverie was suddenly interrupted. The clerk lurched back from the telephone, his hands triumphantly on the counter. 'You have good joss, Mrs!' he cried. 'The dispatcher at the Apex agency on Bonham Strand East was still there and he has cars available but nobody to drive one here.'

  'I'll take a taxi. Write out the address.' Staples looked around for the hotel drug store. There were too many people in the lobby, too much confusion. 'Where can I buy some -skin lotion or Vaseline; sandals or thongs?' she asked, turning to the clerk.

  There is a newspaper stand down the hallway to the right, Mrs. They have many of the items you describe. But, may I please have money, as you must present a receipt to the dispatcher. It is one thousand dollars, Hong Kong, whatever remains to be returned or additional monies to be added-'

  'I don't have that much on me. I'll have to use a card.'

  'So much the better.'

  Catherine opened her purse and pulled out a credit card from an inside pocket. 'I'll be right back,' she said, placing it on the counter as she started for the hallway on the right. For no reason in particular, she glanced over at Lee Teng and his distraught lady. To her brief amusement, the overdressed woman in the foolish fur was nodding appreciatively as Teng pointed to the line of overpriced shops reached by climbing a staircase above the lobby. Lee Teng was a true diplomat. Without question, he had explained to the overwrought guest that she had an option that would both serve her needs and her nerves and hit her errant husband in his financial solar plexus. This was Hong Kong, and she could purchase the best and the most glittering, and for a price everything would be ready in time for the grand ball at Government House. Staples continued towards the hallway.

  Catherine? The name was so sharply spoken Staples froze. 'Please, Mrs Catherine?

  Rigid, Staples turned. It was Lee Teng, who had broken away from his outraged, now mollified, guest. 'What is it?' she asked, frightened as the middle-aged Teng approached, his face lined with concern, sweat evident on his balding skull.

  'I saw you only moments ago. I had a problem.'

  'I know all about it.'

  'So do you, Catherine.'

  'I beg your pardon?'

  Teng glanced at the counter, oddly enough not at the young man who had helped her but at the other clerk who was at the opposite end of the desk. The man was by himself, with no guests in front of him, but he was looking at his associate. 'Damn bad joss!' exclaimed Teng under his breath.

  'What are you talking about?' asked Staples.

  'Come over here,' said the Number 1 concierge of the night shift as he pulled Catherine to the side, away from the sight of the counter. He reached into his pocket and removed a perforated half page of paper on which there was a computer print-out. 'Four copies of this were sent down from upstairs. I managed to obtain three but the fourth is under the counter.'

  Emergency. Government control. A Canadian woman by the name of Mrs Catherine Staples may attempt to lease an automobile for personal use. She is fifty-seven years of age, with partially grey hair, of medium height and a slender figure. Delay all proceedings and contact Police Central Four.

  Wenzu had drawn a conclusion based on an observation, thought Catherine, along with the knowledge that anyone who willingly drove a car in Hong Kong was either crazy or had a peculiar reason for doing so. He was covering his bases quickly and completely. The young man just got me a car over in Bonham Strand East. He obviously hasn't read this.'

  'He found you a rental at this hour?'

  'He's writing up the credit charge now. Do you think he'll see this?'

  'It is not him that I worry about. He is in training and I can tell him anything and he will accept what I say. The other one not so; he wants my job badly. Wait here. Stay out of sight.'

  Teng walked to the counter as the clerk was anxiously looking around, the layered credit card slips in his hand. Lee Teng took the charges and put them in his pocket. That won't be necessary,' he said. 'Our customer has changed her mind. She found a friend in the lobby who will drive her.'

  'Oh? Then I should tell our associate not to bother. As the amount is over the limit, he is clearing it for me. I am still somewhat unsure and he offered-'

  Teng waved him shut as he crossed to the second clerk on the telephone at the other end of the counter. 'You may give me the card and forget the call. There are too many distressed ladies tonight for me! This one has found other means of transportation.'

  'Certainly, Mr Teng,' said the second clerk obsequiously. He handed over the credit card, apologized quickly to the operator on the line and hung up the telephone.

  'A bad night.' Teng shrugged, turning, and heading back into the crowded lobby-lounge. He approached Catherine, pulling out his billfold as he did so. 'If you are short of money, I will cover it. Don't use this.'

  'I'm not short at home or at the bank, but I don't carry so much with me. It's one of the unwritten rules.'

  'One of the better ones,' said Teng, nodding.

  Staples took the bills in Teng's hand and looked up at the Chinese. 'Do you want an explanation? she asked.

  'It's not required, Catherine. Whatever Central Four says, I know you are a good person, and if you are not and you run away and I never see my money again, I am still many thousands, Hong Kong, to the better.'

  'I shan't run anywhere, Teng.'

  'You will not walk, either. One of the chauffeurs owes me a good turn, and he's in the garage now. He will drive you to your car in Bonham Strand. Come, I'll take you down there.'

  'There's someone else with me. I'm taking her out of Hong Kong. She's in the ladies' room.'

  'I'll wait in the hallway. Do hurry.'

  'Sometimes I think the time passes more quickly when we are flooded with problems,' said the second, somewhat older clerk to his younger associate-in-training as he removed the half-page computer print-out from beneath the counter and unobtrusively shoved it into his pocket.

  'If you are right, Mr Teng has barely experienced fifteen minutes since we came on duty two hours ago. He's very good, isn't he?'

  'His lack of head hair helps him. People look upon him as having wisdom even when he has no wise words to offer.'

  'Still, he has a way with people. I wish to be very much like him one day.'

  'Lose some hair,' said the "second clerk. 'In the meantime, since there is no one bothering us, I have to go to the toilet. By the way, just in case I ever need to know a rental agency open at this hour, it was the Apex on Bonham Strand East, wasn't it?

  'Oh, yes.'

  That was very diligent of you.'

  'I simply went by the list. It was near the end.'

  'Some of us would have stopped before then. You are to be commended.'

  'You are too kind to an unworthy trainee.'

  'I want only the best for you,' said the older clerk. 'Always remember that.'

  The older man left the counter. He cautiously went past the potted palms until he saw Lee Teng. The night concierge was standing at the foot of the hallway to the right; it was enough. He was waiting for the woman. The clerk turned quickly and walked up the staircase to the line of shops with less dignity than was proper. He was in a- hurry and entered the first boutique at the top of the steps.

  'Hotel business,' he said to the bored saleswoman as he grabbed the phone off the wall behind a glass counter of glistening precious stones. He dialled.

  'Police Central Four.'

  'Your directive, sir, regarding the Canadian woman, Mrs Staples-'

  'Do you have information?'

  'I believe so, sir, but it is somewhat embarrassing for me to relay it.'

  'Why is that? This is an emergency, a government matter!'

  'Please understand, Officer, I am only a minor employee, and it is quite possible the night concierge did not recall your directive. He is a very busy man.'

  'What are you trying to say?'

  'Well, Officer - sir - the woman I overheard asking for the concierge bore a str
iking resemblance to the description in the government directive. But it would be most embarrassing for me if it was learned that I called you.'

  'You will be protected. You may remain anonymous. What is the information?'

  'Well, sir, I overheard...' With cautious, ambivalent words the 1st assistant clerk did his best for himself and consequently the worst for his superior, Lee Teng. His final statements, however, were concise and without equivocation. 'It is the Apex Car Rental Agency in Bonham Strand East. I suggest you hurry as she is on her way there now.'