“I guess.”
“For these people, Beijing is the center of the universe. What the Americans think or don’t think is as important as the shape of the craters on the back side of the moon.”
“Okay.”
“The only reason the PLA would want the tape is because there’s something on it that threatens them. If they knew about the revolutionaries, they wouldn’t need the tape. Do you agree?”
“I’m listening.”
“That leaves someone else Chan dealt with. Not me, because it’s too late for you or anyone else to stop the train. The danger to the revolution is past.”
“I accept that for now,” Grafton said. “If the shit hits the fan tomorrow. If it doesn’t …”
“The tape would be of value only to someone who doesn’t know the timetable, someone who thinks that he can sell the information that’s on it or use it for blackmail. He’s assuming that the world he knows is still going to be there, otherwise the tape has no value.”
Jake took the tape from his pocket and placed it on Cole’s desk. “Do you have anybody who could translate this for me?”
“Yes. Kerry Kent.”
“Is she in the building?”
“Yes.” He pushed the button on the intercom and said his secretary’s name. “Is Mr. Carmellini waiting out there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please have him go to the CIA office and ask Ms. Kent to come see me.”
When he released the intercom button, Cole told Grafton, “She’s a British SIS agent on a foreign assignment. She works here.”
“Do you want the Brits to hear this?”
“I don’t think she’ll pass it along to London.”
“Think or know?”
“She’s Wu Tai Kwong’s girlfriend.”
“I’m not going to sit here for six hours while she listens to the tape. Gimme your best guess. Who snatched Callie?”
“The first possibility that pops into my head is a local gangster named Sonny Wong. I have reason to believe that people in this building are feeding him information, maybe even selling him passports.”
“Do you know who these people are?”
“Suspicion only.”
“What else is Wong into?”
“His primary occupation is smuggling: refugees, dope, diamonds, guns, whatever will earn a buck.”
“Where do I find this star of the social register?”
“You need to see a man named Rip Buckingham. He’s a friend of mine. I’ll give you his address. We won’t call because the telephones might be tapped, but I’ll write a note for you to take with you. Go over to his house.”
“Does he know about the plan for revolution?”
“Yes.”
“He’s one of the inner circle?”
“Yes.”
“What does he know?”
“As few of the specifics of my business as possible. Like all good conspirators, we compartmentalize all we can, just in case. Obviously he knows details that I don’t. He’s as familiar with the big picture as I am, of course.”
Jake Grafton could sit still no longer. He walked to the window and back, rubbing his hands. “I need a weapon, a pistol. Got one you could loan me?”
Cole hiked a foot up on his lower desk drawer, pulled up a trouser leg, and pulled down his sock. He was wearing an ankle holster. “It’s a five-shot Smith and Wesson thirty-eight with a two-inch barrel,” he said as he unstrapped the holster. “The police will get real pissy if they catch you toting it around. About all it’s good for is shooting yourself.”
“Would you have done that if they arrested you?” Jake murmured.
“Hell no. I’ve got diplomatic immunity,” Cole said.
“Is immunity bulletproof?”
“Nope. Which is why I carried the pistol.”
Cole was writing down Rip Buckingham’s address on a Post-it when the intercom buzzed. The secretary’s voice came through the box. “Sir, Mr. Carmellini is back with Ms. Kent. And there is a call from a Mr. Wong. He says he has something that might be of interest to you.”
Cole looked up and met the unblinking gray eyes of Jake Grafton.
“Send Carmellini and Kent in,” he told the box, “and I’ll take the call.” When Carmellini and Kent were seated beside Jake Grafton, Cole pushed the speaker button on the telephone.
“Cole.”
“Mr. Cole, my name is Sonny Wong. I don’t think we have ever formally met, but you may have heard someone mention my name.” Wong spoke decent English, but the accent was unmistakable.
“I have indeed heard your name.”
“I have come into the possession of several items you may wish to redeem, Mr. Cole. One is an American lady named Grafton.”
CHAPTER NINE
The color drained from Jake Grafton’s face as Tiger Cole said, “I’m listening.”
“You may remember our mutual friend, China Bob Chan? It seems that a tape recording was made in his library the evening he died.”
Wong paused. Cole said nothing. Kerry Kent looked at Tommy Carmellini, who kept his gaze fixed on the telephone.
“Still there, Mr. Cole?”
“Yes.”
“This lady has listened to the tape. I don’t have the tape, mind you, just the woman. She heard you shoot China Bob, Mr. Cole.”
“So?”
“You have diplomatic immunity in China, but the American State Department might take a dim view of murder. Conceivably, the American government could waive your immunity and turn you over to the Chinese for trial. A federal indictment in the United States is more probable. This woman could put you in prison for the rest of your life.”
“I’m still listening.”
“The other item I have is even more marketable. Amazingly, with the entire resources of the Chinese government devoted to the search for public enemy Wu Tai Kwong, I have managed to apprehend the criminal.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“I think the authorities would be very interested in both of my prizes, Mr. Cole. As you know, they have offered a very tempting reward for Wu. I propose to sell both these people to you or to the Chinese government. Think it over.”
“You son of a bitch! Who are you trying to bullshit? Sun will throw you in the same hole he’s got waiting for Wu. If Wu won’t talk, I will.”
Sonny chuckled. “You underestimate the gratitude that will overflow Sun’s hard little heart if I produce Wu Tai Kwong. Waving Wu’s head in Beijing will make Sun’s fortune—the bastard may wind up as our next premier.”
“You’re the biggest liar west of Little Rock.”
“Everybody has a price.”
“What’s yours?”
“Fifty million American dollars.”
“I think you’re trying to hijack the revolution.”
“Hijack it? I’m trying desperately to profit from it.”
“Without Wu, there won’t be a revolution.”
“Crap,” shot back Sonny Wong. “No one can stop it now. You’ll lead it yourself. Or I will.”
“I’d be a fool to pay.”
“You’d be a fool not to. Your choice.”
“Fifty million?”
“Yep. Transferred by you into a Swiss bank account. You have three days to make the transfer or I make a delivery to the People’s Liberation Army.”
Cole took a deep breath. “What account?”
“One of my colleagues will call you with the information, a Mr. Daniel. Should you decide to redeem one person and not the other, discuss that with Mr. Daniel.”
“I’ll want to talk with both parties right now to make sure they are alive and well cared for.”
“Discuss the details with Mr. Daniel.”
“If anything happens to them I—” Cole began but he was talking to a dead telephone.
He pushed the button to cut the connection.
They all sat staring at the telephone.
After a moment, Grafton said, “Callie said
the tape is inconclusive. She said anyone listening to it couldn’t determine who fired the shot that killed Chan.” He picked up the tape from the desk, fingered the reels, then laid it down again.
“It’s money Wong’s after,” Cole muttered. “If he doesn’t get money, he’ll probably “kill her.”
“But he wants the tape,” Jake objected. “Wants to know what’s on it.”
“Yeah. He and China Bob did a lot of business together. God only knows what the two of them talked about. He wants the tape, too.”
“Wu Tai Kwong?”
“The political criminal.”
“Why would you care about him?” Tommy Carmellini asked.
“Who do you think is leading the revolution?”
“I guess I hadn’t put two and two together.”
“Wu isn’t his real name. As fate would have it, he’s Rip Buckingham’s brother-in-law. If we can overthrow the Communists and Wu lives long enough, he’s going to be the first elected president of the new Republic of China.”
“And Wong wants you to pay a ransom for him?”
“If I don’t pay for Wu, Sonny Wong will indeed turn Wu over to the People’s Liberation Army, which will pay Sonny the posted reward and execute Wu.”
“Fifty million dollars is a lot of kale,” Tommy Carmellini remarked, rubbing his chin.
“Callie and I have been pretty diligent savers and investors,” Jake said, “and we have about one-fifth of one percent of that amount.”
Cole waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll pay it,” he said.
“They may kill them anyway.”
“We’ll set up a trade. They produce Wu and Callie, I make the call authorizing a wire transfer of the money. When the money is in his bank, we leave.”
Jake Grafton shook his head slowly. “He’ll have to kill you and Wu after you make the call. Wong can’t afford to let Wu live to send an army to hunt him down. Hell, he’ll have to kill us all so nothing leaks out.”
Cole’s face wore a blank expression. His mind was obviously going at a mile a minute.
“How come this Wong knows so much about the revolution?”
“He’s involved, obviously.”
“Obviously. How is he involved? What’s his role in all this?”
“Not now,” Tiger Cole said, frowning. “I can’t tell you now.”
“Goddamn you!” Jake Grafton roared. “That asshole kidnapped my wife!”
“I’m sorry, Jake,” Tiger Cole said.
The admiral struggled to get himself under control. He played with the pistol, checked it, then pulled up his trouser leg. When he spoke again it was in a normal tone. “If you had nothing to do with Callie’s kidnapping, you have nothing to apologize for,” he said as he strapped the ankle holster to his right leg. “If you did, I’ll kill you, Cole. It’s that goddamn simple.”
“How did Sonny Wong capture Wu Tai Kwong?” Carmellini asked.
“Everyone in Hong Kong knows Wu is somewhere in the city,” the consul general replied. “The revolutionary movement has more leaks than the Titanic”
“So why hasn’t Wu been arrested before?”
“Because we’ve paid off the police.” Cole shrugged. “Everyone in the Chinese government is corrupt, all of them. This is the third world!”
“Can we get help from the police to get Callie back? Wu?”
“Beijing has posted a huge reward for Wu. The cops are corrupt, but you are fooling yourself if you think no one will call the PLA to turn him in. They will!”
“Okay,” said Jake Grafton. “Let’s talk about Callie. Only a few people knew she was going to listen to that tape. Carmellini, you’re one of them. Who’d you tell?”
“No one, Admiral.”
“Somebody figured it out.”
“Kerry Kent,” Tommy said bitterly.
“You ass,” she hissed and went for him with her fingernails.
Carmellini grabbed her wrists. He was far too strong for her. “Don’t play the injured lover with me,” he sneered with all the contempt of a man who had never been in love. “I’ve heard that song before. You’re the number-one suspect on my list.”
“I trust her,” Cole said, in a tone that ended the argument.
Carmellini pushed Kent away. If looks could kill, he would have received a fatal wound just then.
“The postmortem can wait,” Jake Grafton said. “We’ve got other fish to fry.” He picked up the tape from Cole’s desk and put it in his pocket.
The maid brought Rip the cell phone. He was sitting on his roof under a dripping umbrella. The air was now a fine sea mist; occasionally a whisper of breeze tossed a handful of droplets on his face, almost like a kiss.
The maid didn’t look at him, merely handed him the phone and left.
Rip pushed the button and answered.
“Rip, this is Sonny Wong.”
“Hey, Sonny.”
“Got some bad news for you, Rip. Hate having to deliver it like this, but the world is pressing in, if you know what I mean.”
“Like what?”
“Like I have your brother-in-law as an unwilling guest.”
“My brother-in-law?”
“Yeah. Wu. Remember him? Drives for the Double Happy Fortune Cookie Company? Is wanted by the government for political crimes? The million Hong Kong dollars reward? That brother-in-law.”
“Jesus, Sonny, I thought we were friends.”
“We are, Rip, but this is business. Hong Kong is about to blow up in our faces, no thanks to your brother-in-law, who has done everything within his power to light the fuse. It’s been a grand party, but it’s over. A guy has to look out for number one. You and I are not friends ten million American dollars’ worth. That’s what it will cost you to see Wu in one piece again.”
“I don’t have that kind of money, Sonny. You know that.”
“Ah, but your father does. Call him! Tell Richard Buckingham that if I don’t get the money, your brother-in-law Wu Tai Kwong will be turned over to General Tang Tso of the PLA, who will probably shoot him before he writes the reward check. Or strangle him. For some reason, those guys still like to strangle people. So old-fashioned and messy. Uncivilized too, but probably very satisfying on some level. Almost orgasmic.”
“You’re a perfect bastard, Sonny.”
“Not quite perfect but I’m working on it. If I were Richard Buckingham’s heir, like a certain person I know, I wouldn’t have to be. You know what I’m saying? It’s an accident of birth, really, that I was born in a sewer, poor as a flea on a starving rat, and I’ve been digging and scratching every minute since then to get out of it.”
“Let me talk to Wu.”
“You’re going to have to take my word on this, Rip. Wu is sleeping right now; I don’t want to wake him.”
“How do I know you’ve got him?”
“If you’re really worried about that point, I’ll have someone drop by with a finger. What the hell, he’s got ten. He’ll never miss a few.”
“Okay, okay.”
“You talk to Richard. I’ll call you back in a few hours, give you the particulars on a Swiss bank account that I’m trying to fatten up. You can plan on transferring the money there.”
With that Sonny hung up.
Rip went inside looking for Sue Lin. He found her in the kitchen. “Where’s the maid?”
“The new one?”
Rip nodded.
“After she gave you the phone, she went downstairs, got her umbrella, and left. Didn’t say a word to me. I happened to look out the window and saw her walking toward the tram.”
“Wu’s been kidnapped.”
“What?”
“Sonny Wong has him. He wants ten million American dollars or he’ll turn him over to the government and collect the reward.”
She sat and put her face in her hands. Rip put his arms around her shoulders and found she was shaking.
“Hey.” He knelt in front of her, opened her hands. Tears streamed along her cheeks. “Hey.�
��
“I’ve seen this Sonny Wong,” she whispered. “He is evil.”
“Sue Lin, I’ve known him for years. Yeah, he’s a crook, but he’s always been straight with me. He’s just wants money. Unfortunately we looked like an easy mark.”
“He’ll kill Wu.”
“We’ll pay the money. I’ll bet he’ll let him go.”
“With the city full of people who worship Wu?” she protested, shaking her head. “Sonny Wong will kill him and take the first plane out before anyone finds out the truth.”
The sound of a man groaning woke Callie Grafton. She opened her eyes and looked around. It took several seconds before she realized what she was looking at. She was in a small stateroom, perhaps on a ship, lying on a narrow bed, a lower bunk. Across the aisle, almost within reach, lay a man with his back to her. He was the one groaning.
Blood stained his shirt and the sheet on which he lay.
She extended her arm … and felt a sharp pain roar through her skull. Slowly she put her hands to her head and pressed. She had the mother of all headaches.
Her head throbbed with every heartbeat. Gradually the pain seemed to ease somewhat, and once again she extended her hand to the groaning man.
His back was warm.
Callie moved, painfully, until she could touch the man.
She swung her feet over the edge of the bunk and sat up, which almost split her head with pain. In a minute or so the pain lessened and she could see and function.
Ever so slowly, she stood, turned the man over, and examined him.
His left hand was bloody. She looked. His little finger was missing, leaving only an oozing, partially scabbed wound.
She tore at the sheet, finally got a strip off it, and wrapped the strip around the man’s hand as a crude bandage.
He had stopped groaning. When she finished she realized his eyes were open and he was looking at her with intelligent brown eyes. He was Chinese, in his mid-thirties perhaps.
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