“I didn’t guess it either,” Ng-zhi said.
“She works for a shoe factory. I think she’s the company accountant.” Jiu slid a paper to Ng-zhi with the name and address of the company Shopei worked for. “I’ll get a list of employees,” he said. “Let’s find out who her friends are. Maybe she’s staying with one of them.”
“Do you want to talk to her?” Ng-zhi asked. He didn’t really care how this went down. He only needed to know Jiu’s wishes.
“Not really,” Jiu said. “Try to find out whether she talked to anyone. Then help her to disappear. It’s Chan we want. As an American he’s going to be harder to deal with. I’m thinking he probably smuggled some cocaine into the country. He looks like the type.”
“That should keep him out of our hair for awhile.” Ng-zhi smiled. “Nothing like a little prison time to teach a man to mind his own business.” He and Jiu had access to a ready supply of narcotics. Record keeping at the lockup was notoriously sloppy. If they could find Randy Chan, setting him up for arrest would be easy.
“Be gentle with him,” Jiu said. “I want him in one piece when we turn him over to Ho. And let’s find out who he’s communicating with overseas.”
“You have a phone number for me?”
“Yeah. I pulled it off Tan Dahui’s hard drive. It’s Chan’s cell number.”
“Great,” Ng-zhi said. “I’ll plug it into the system. As soon as it gets a hit we can track him down.”
Yi was irritated when the men returned to the office.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going for coffee?” he said.
Jiu Kaiyu ignored Yi, walking past him to his cubicle. As his senior, he did not feel obligated to explain his actions, regardless of the young man’s influential family connections.
“We looked for you,” Ng-zhi lied, not bothering to meet Yi’s eyes. “I needed some fresh air.”
“You won’t find it in Shanghai,” Yi said. Still peevish, he sat at his desk and resumed his critical task of researching the best on-line poker sites.
Jiu Kaiyu did not bother to glance at Ng-zhi across the room. Each man could read the other’s thoughts without the need for eye contact. After all, they had a secret they shared with no one. Jiu Kaiyu and Ng-zhi were brothers — half brothers, that is, who shared the same father and were raised together by Jiu’s mother. Ng-zhi’s mother had never married, a fact that made her life in Shanghai extremely difficult. After she died, Ng-zhi continued to use her family name out of respect. He spent a short time in the home of an aunt and uncle who beat him regularly, until one day Jiu’s father owned up to his responsibility and convinced his angry wife to give Ng-zhi a home.
To her credit, or perhaps to her discredit, Jiu’s mother did not discriminate against her husband’s bastard, treating him to the same hostile indifference she showed to her own son. Love was not in her to give to either Jiu or Ng-zhi, but she did provide them with the basic necessities — food, clothes and discipline. She made sure they were educated. When their father died she remarried quickly and seldom allowed herself to be inconvenienced by the presence of either boy.
Ng-zhi married a peasant woman who reminded him of his own mother, a large smiling woman who admired him greatly. Jiu Kaiyu never married, preferring the attention of prostitutes and finding even their company unbearable once the act was complete. In his view most men, his brother excepted, were worms who allowed their inner strength to be tapped by women. All women, he thought, were like his mother at the core, calculating and manipulative, and utterly incapable of affection.
Still, they were a necessary evil.
Jiu Kaiyu possessed an uncanny ability to read the desires and uncertainties of others coupled with a complete inability to care about them. He was intelligent enough to recognise in himself the makings of a sociopath. It was fortunate for Jiu that his position with the Ministry of Security gave him the opportunity to use his special skills in a legitimate manner. He did not enjoy killing, but he could kill or order the death of others without remorse.
His victims were ‘enemies of the state’, criminals and cultists, so his lack of empathy toward them could pass as an appropriate response.
Ng-zhi alone was Jiu’s equal — his shipmate on the stormy sea of life. Ng-zhi never argued with his brother, a fact that Jiu took to be evidence of his intelligence. From the time they were small boys, Ng-zhi had always held Jiu Kaiyu in the highest regard. This fact made it easy for him to defer to Jiu’s professional leadership. He had grown up indebted to Jiu and his father for saving him from the unbearable oppression of his aunt and uncle. As children, Jiu Kaiyu was the wizard and Ng-zhi was the enforcer. This relationship never changed with the passing years.
Both men despised Ho Lon-shi’s useless nephew, Yi.
Still sulking, Yi pounded his keyboard in protest. Before long, though, he was once again engrossed in one of his favourite gambling sites. This left Ng-zhi free to run a discreet search on Randy Chan’s cell phone number. He plugged in the data and left the search to run, minimising the window to avoid discovery. While it ran, he pretended to busy himself with filing some case documents.
There was nothing to do but wait. Jiu spent the time digging up everything he could on Tan Shopei, where she went to school and who she worked with at the shoe factory. The general population would be shocked to learn how much information was available to the authorities regarding the private lives of individuals.
When the message finally flashed on Ng-zhi’s screen saying Randy Chan’s cell phone had been successfully located, it was already late in the afternoon. In fact, the process of pinging the number would have only taken minutes, but the request had to be made through bureaucratic channels. To speed things up Ng-zhi could have requested a rush trace, but that would have drawn unwanted attention to the query.
Ng-zhi nonchalantly set aside the documents he had been filing and sat back down in front of his computer. He calmly scrutinised the polished nails on his massive hands before opening the report on his screen. He did not want to print the report and risk attracting Yi’s notice. Instead he wrote down the particulars: the nearest cell phone relay disc and the probable location of the phone to within a two-block radius.
He stuck the info into his pocket. Making sure Yi was not paying attention, he nodded at Jiu Kaiyu.
Jiu stretched and yawned, making a show of looking at his watch. As team leader, he was authorised to send his staff home early occasionally
“I’m exhausted,” he said. “Yi, has anything come in from the Ministry of Transportation?”
“No. If Randy Chan left Shanghai by train or plane, he must have used another name. My guess is that he’s still here in the city.”
“OK, then tomorrow we’ll start talking to known associates of the Tan family. Maybe someone can shed light on his whereabouts. Meanwhile, I suggest we call it a day.”
True to form, Yi was the first to sign off his computer and say goodnight. As he disappeared through the office door, Ng-zhi smiled at Jiu.
“Come on,” Jiu said to his brother, “we’ve got work to do.”
THIRTY-ONE
Caroline and Harold Kitchener led their daughters into the elevator. The girls wore matching summer dresses, their curls held in place with pink hair bands. As usual they were the last to arrive in the lobby, finding it difficult to get out the door with the kids intact.
The bus was waiting. The other couples had claimed the seats they would likely keep for the duration of their stay in Nanning. Caroline scanned the bus, but all of the good spots were taken. Harold scooted the girls into the remaining seats at the front of the bus, right behind the driver.
“Sorry we’re late,” Caroline said, waving at the group.
“You’re not late,” Eloise said, “we’re all early.”
“We’re just excited,” Yvanna Brahn said.
What a strange group, Caroline thought. Yvanna and Chris Brahn were nice people, always cheerful, but even they were odd, somehow removed fr
om the others. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was that made them different, but it was almost as if they were from another country. Other than speaking the same language, they didn’t have anything culturally in common with the group.
Eloise and Joseph Golluck were as close to being normal as anyone. They were bright, funny, intelligent —being more mature, they had a handle on life and knew how to behave in different situations. They were gracious and inclusive, and excited to be receiving their first child so late in life.
Ting-lo and Adrian Harlan looked as though they hadn’t slept. They were distant, which was strange, because early on in the trip they had seemed to be the most enthusiastic pair. Caroline heard Ting-lo complain of a headache, so maybe that was it, but if so, a couple of pills would take care of it. Maybe she should suggest to Harold that he find out whether she needed some medication. It was a shame to let a little pain spoil such an incredible journey.
Finally there were the Kaders. Guy spent all of his energy keeping an eye on his wife. Paula was a loose cannon, charming and funny one moment, sour and distant the next. As the only woman in the group who already had children, Caroline couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a mother Paula Kader would make.
As Harold always said, ‘Judge not’. They never knew who might at that moment be judging them. The judgement of others was never in short supply.
Caroline smiled at Fa-ling. She wondered why the young woman was spending her time with a lot of old married couples when she could be busy with people her own age.
“This is it,” Fa-ling said. “Are you guys ready for the big moment?”
“Absolutely,” Caroline said. “We’ve been ready for four years, ever since Becky was born.” Becky was their youngest.
“The girls look great. They must be thrilled to be getting a little sister.”
Caroline nodded assent, but before she could continue the conversation, Cynthia, the guide, stood beside the driver and began to speak.
“Everyone,” she said, “this is our driver, Steve.”
Steve turned and waved at the group. He did not speak English, but he had been through this routine before. It was unlikely Steve was his real name, but it would serve the purpose as one the couples could remember.
“He will be our driver for this week while we are in Nanning. Each day he will take us to a different location. At the end of the trip, I will ask each of you to contribute a set amount so we can present Steve with an appropriate tip.”
The group murmured in agreement. Fa-ling was glad her parents had warned her about the unexpected costs. They had been generous in making sure she had enough travel money.
“We are in a hurry,” Cynthia said as the bus darted out of the hotel lot. “Everyone please stay seated for safety’s sake. We must get to the Ministry office before we are late for the ‘baby ceremony’. While we are still near the hotel, I will ask everyone to be sure they have their US dollars with them for the orphanage donation. That is critical. If anyone has forgotten, please let me know immediately and we will turn back.”
Five couples fumbled with their money pouches, before confirming they were in safe possession of their cash ‘gifts’.
“Good,” Cynthia said. “Now I will ask who your group leader is.” Before leaving Toronto the couples had met several times to go over the itinerary for the trip. They had elected Eloise Golluck to be their group leader.
Eloise raised her hand.
“OK, good, then Eloise, please confirm for me you are carrying all of the necessary travel and adoption documents for the group.”
“Yup, I’ve got everything,” Eloise said.
“Now, here’s what will happen at the Ministry office. First, I will take you all to the waiting room. The babies may already be there. They are expected to arrive today by bus, but it is a long trip from the orphanage northwest of Qingyuan. If they are not there, we will have to wait. There is no cafeteria, and we will not be free to wander around the building, so the wait might be difficult, but we have no choice.
“Once the babies arrive with their nannies, we will be told to go to the ceremony room. Please be sure you all have your home study approvals and travel visas ready at that time. The nannies will carry the babies into the room, and one by one the babies will be presented to their parents. Are there any questions?”
“Will we be able to visit the orphanage this week?” Eloise asked.
“No. Most orphanages do not permit visits from parents. This orphanage is strict in its policy. Besides,” Cynthia said, “it is a six hour drive to the location on bad roads. It would not be a good way to spend a day.”
The couples nodded, though it was doubtful that any of them agreed. Their agent in Toronto had warned them the adoption infrastructure in China was shrouded in secrecy, like so many of the country’s inner workings. ‘Foreigners’, even the top International adoption agents, were rarely if ever allowed a glimpse into the administrative process.
The bus sped through the streets of Nanning, barely stopping for lights. Fa-ling tried to see the city by daylight, but the storefronts and buildings were a bouncing blur. She did notice several buses loaded with labourers. They were low-rise double-decker vehicles in brown or bottle green, the passengers doubled over on both levels, crammed into the spaces in an inhuman manner. She made a mental note under the header ‘the old China’.
Road workers leaned on archaic tools, seeming in no hurry to finish their current project and get onto the next. Most were dressed in baggy coveralls despite the heat. Their heads were protected by traditional bamboo ‘lampshade’ hats. Grey dust rose from gaping craters in the pavement, covering the labourers until they appeared to have risen from the earth itself.
Out of ‘old China’, something new and exciting was bursting. It was evident in the construction projects that appeared at every turn. Workers toiled, and on every street outdated buildings had been recently demolished to make way for modern monoliths that were still girded by bamboo frames.
This, Fa-ling thought, is the ‘new China rising’.
At last the bus turned without slowing into the Ministry parking lot of the China Centre of Adoption Affairs, almost tipping over in its haste. Steve put it in park and turned, grinning at the group.
“Steve will wait for us here,” Cynthia said. “We have to hurry.”
As quickly as possible, the five couples, two children and Fa-ling followed Cynthia off the bus. Cynthia raced past the elevator to the stairs. They climbed to the third floor, and were led to a tiny room with four couches and several chairs arranged around a large square coffee table. A coffee urn sat in the corner.
“Please stay here,” Cynthia said. She left, closing the door behind her.
“This must be the part,” Joseph said, “where we all wait till we bounce off the walls. There’s probably a hidden camera up there, and after a couple of hours, someone will come in and say ‘You just got punked!’”
They all laughed, but it was nervous laughter.
“Who wants coffee?” Joseph said.
“I’ll have one of those,” Eloise said, joining her husband at the coffee urn. “Anyone else?”
“No, thanks, I’m tense enough,” Caroline said.
Fa-ling took a Styrofoam cup from Joseph, shaking her head at the offer of sugar or cream. She took a sip, then changed her mind and added two packets of sugar, still rejecting the cream. The coffee was awful. It had probably been brewed the previous day.
She sat back, watching the couples deal with their jitters. Fa-ling wondered what each person really felt, if one were to strip away the masks of convention. It was difficult to get a read from the couples. Each individual seemed to be lost in his or her own set of needs and self-doubts. Most of the faces were lit up with anticipation, but a few were more guarded.
Were they all happy to be here, thrilled to be opening their homes and hearts to an exotic little bundle?
Did they truly feel as though they were becoming real mothers and fathers
today? Or was the sense more one of becoming caretakers and guardians?
THIRTY-TWO
“Turn left here,” Jiu Kaiyu said. “The relay disc is on top of that building.”
Jiu looked up at the blue-faced skyscraper. The uppermost tip of the glass curtain-wall flamed in the late afternoon sunlight. The lower portion of the building rested in cool downtown shadows.
“We’ll start here,” Jiu said.
Ng-zhi nodded. There was no easy way to do this. Randy Chan might already be long gone, but the only lead they had was the location of this relay disc, where his cell phone had been picked up less than an hour earlier. He and Kaiyu would have to resort to basic ‘search’ procedure, driving up and down every street in a widening spiral, hoping to catch a glimpse of Chan and the girl.
Ng-zhi drove past the Lucky Monkey restaurant, to where the street gave itself over to a row of luxury embassy buildings.
“Damn!” Kaiyu said. “That’s the American Consulate.”
“We should have known he’d go straight there.”
“I’ll call Lau.”
Lau was an old schoolmate of Jiu Kaiyu’s who worked as a security guard at the Consulate.
“What do you want?” Lau said once the usual verbal backslapping was out of the way.
“I’m here with Ng-zhi. We’re right outside your door. We’re looking for an American.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” Lau said.
“Always the funny man. The guy we’re looking for is Asian, tall, early twenties. He wears wire-rimmed glasses and has long hair, not quite shoulder-length.”
“He sounds pretty.”
“Yeah, he’s a gem. Last time we saw him he was with a girl, same age, native of Shanghai. Bilingual. Hair down to the mid-back.”
“Any distinguishing features?”
“Yeah. She’s got tits like a white girl.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open.”
The First Excellence: Fa-Ling's Map Page 14