by Ian Hamilton
“Hey, what’s going on with you two?” Ava asked as she drew near.
May stepped back, looking a bit flustered. “I was just telling our silent partner how well the money he put into our business is doing,” she said quickly.
Ava was slightly taken aback by the comment, and she glanced around to see if anyone else might have heard it. Xu had put $150 million into Three Sisters. He had carefully assembled the money from his many enterprises, including factories that made knock-off electronic devices and designer bags and clothes. Then he had separated the money as far as possible from its triad roots before transferring it to them.
“I’m quite sure that comes as a surprise to him,” Ava said, relieved to see that no one was in earshot.
Xu smiled at Ava, but in a way that she thought looked a bit tentative. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face looked gaunt. She wondered if he was having lingering health issues from the knife wounds he’d received in Shenzhen five months before, when his main competitor for chairmanship of the triad societies had tried to take him out of the running.
“Mei mei, it’s good to see you,” he said.
Ava stepped into his arms. “And you.”
“May said you were meeting with a very influential woman from Lane Crawford. I hope I didn’t drag you away from her.”
“Our business was done.”
“How did it go?” May asked.
“Well enough, I think.”
“How do you know her?” Xu asked.
“Uncle and I did a job for her family.”
“It was successful?”
“Yes.”
“And she feels indebted?”
“Enough that she came here. For the rest of it, she has to see and like Clark’s designs. I told her that’s the way it should be.”
“Getting her here was a feat in itself,” May said. “Ava is always teasing me about my guanxi, but now she’s demonstrating her own.”
“Don’t exaggerate,” Ava said, and then turned back to Xu. “There’s champagne and other drinks and food on the terrace if you want some.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t stay.”
“Suen told me you have visitors from Nanjing.”
“I do, and I have to take them to dinner.”
“You’re coming to the launch tomorrow?” May asked.
“That is still the plan, and I’ll be bringing the manager of our main clothing factory with me. His name is Wu.”
Ava couldn’t help but notice how intently May was staring at Xu. For his part, Xu seemed detached, and his face, as well as being gaunt, looked weary. “May, I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to leave soon, and I would like a word alone with Ava, if you don’t mind.” Xu spoke so softly that Ava wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly.
“No, of course not,” May said.
Xu looped his arm through Ava’s and gently led her away from the door.
“What’s this about?” she asked.
“When the reception is over, could you possibly join me at the restaurant where I’m taking my guests?” he said.
Her surprise at his question must have showed.
“I’m sorry for dropping this on you so suddenly.”
“Is it a business dinner? I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”
“It isn’t supposed to be about business, and even if it is, you are never in the way.”
“They won’t find it strange that you invited a woman?”
“That’s one of the reasons I would like you to come. I was told a few minutes ago that Pang Fai is going to be there.”
“The actress?”
“Yes.”
“I love her work,” Ava said. “I must have seen ten of her films, and I don’t think there’s anyone better at drama. But she’s so famous. What’s she doing at your dinner in Shanghai?” She saw his brow crease ever so slightly. “Oh, Xu, I hope that didn’t sound rude. You must know what I mean. It is Pang Fai, after all.”
He smiled. “She’s the girlfriend — or at least a friend — of one of the most prominent men in Nanjing.”
“He must be wealthy.”
“He is, and powerful.”
“Would I know him?”
“His name is Tsai Men. His father is the governor of Jiangsu.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“There’s no reason why you should have.”
Ava hesitated. The idea of arriving late at a dinner party held little appeal, but she was intrigued by the prospect of meeting one of China’s biggest movie stars. “I have no idea when this reception will be over, and I can’t leave early.”
“Come whenever you can. I’ve made a reservation at Capo. It is next door, on the fifth floor of the Yifeng Galleria. You can walk.”
“Capo? That doesn’t sound Chinese.”
“It’s Italian. That’s where he always wants to go, even though he never orders anything Italian. He says they have the best fresh oysters and steak in Shanghai.”
Ava shook her head. “Xu, I’m not sure —”
He squeezed her arm gently. “I don’t care when you arrive. Knowing Tsai, it will be a long night anyway.”
“And look at the way I’m dressed.”
“You look stunning. I’ve spent time with Pang Fai before, and believe me, she does not dress down. You’ll fit right in.”
“Okay, I’ll be there,” she said, giving in to his persistence.
“Thank you.”
“But arriving in the middle of dinner is going to look odd. How will you explain it?”
“I’ll tell them you were at a reception.”
“And how are you going to introduce me?”
“As my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Don’t be alarmed. It is the simplest explanation. If I told Tsai Men the truth it would only lead to a whole bunch of questions that I don’t want to answer.”
( 2 )
It was almost eight thirty by the time Ava walked out of the Peninsula Hotel. The reception was still going on, but about half the people had left, and Ava felt she’d fulfilled her obligations. Besides, the energy in the suite had turned her initial reluctance to go to Capo into something that bordered on enthusiasm. She was looking forward to meeting Pang Fai. It wasn’t every day you got to sit with a genuine movie star, and in China there weren’t many bigger than her.
The reception had been wonderful. Elsa Ngan from Hong Kong Vogue had arrived early, attached herself to Amanda, and was openly supportive. Ava met with Suki Chan, their partner in the Shanghai warehouse and distribution business, and for twenty minutes she listened to Suki’s plan to expand operations. Suki was in her late fifties or early sixties and had a penchant for grey Mao jackets and black slacks. Despite her minimalist attire, she had incredible energy and imagination.
At just past seven, Clark Po’s arrival brought all conversation to a halt. He and Chi-Tze arrived together. She entered the suite first, a shy smile across her face and her cheeks flushed, while he waited near the door until he was noticed. The women from the factory immediately rushed to him. Clark hung back as the crowd gathered, and then strode into the room with a smile and his right hand waving in the air.
He was tall, thin, and slightly awkward, and he wore his long hair swept to one side, where it fell past his shoulder and was tied with a red ribbon. His skin was clear and pale, almost a translucent white. His lips were stained with a heavy layer of rouge, and his eyes were lined with kohl. He was dressed entirely in white: a long-sleeved shirt decorated with a train of brightly coloured buttons and loose, wide-leg slacks.
The factory women began to chant his name.
He lowered his head towards them.
Ava saw Carrie Song smiling and clapping at the edge of the crowd. Ava caught her eye.
&nbs
p; How wonderful, Carrie mouthed.
Ava spent the next hour mingling and getting caught up in the excitement. By the time she left for the Yifeng Galleria her appetite had grown and she was ready to eat just about anything.
She could see the complex from the hotel entrance and started towards it. She hadn’t gone more than five steps before she felt a presence. She stopped and saw the man named Suen closing in on her. He was immense, at least six feet six inches in height and half as broad. He was one of Xu’s most trusted deputies and sometimes also functioned as a bodyguard and enforcer. Ava had met him for the first time in Borneo, where he saved her life.
“The boss asked me to walk over with you,” he said. “The restaurant is a bit hard to find once you get inside the galleria.”
“That isn’t necessary,” she said.
“He asked me to do it, so let me,” he said. “I don’t need him getting angry.”
“Okay,” Ava said.
“And just so you know, I’ll be hanging around outside after we get there and I’ll be walking you back to the hotel.”
The Yifeng Galleria was in a century-old office building on Beijing East Road, opposite the Peninsula Hotel. The building had been gutted and turned into a mall full of high-end designer boutiques, restaurants, and clubs. Ava and Suen entered the marble lobby and went up the elevator to the fifth floor, where she found herself in front of the Muse nightclub. There was no sign of a restaurant.
“Follow me,” Suen said, leading her down a corridor that took them almost directly behind the club.
When they came to a halt, Ava found herself looking at a wall with a massive reproduction of The Last Supper. On the table in front of Jesus was a runner with the name Capo on it. To the left was a host stand.
“I’ll see you later,” Suen said.
“I’m here to join the Xu dinner party,” Ava said to the woman at the stand.
“Are you Ms. Lee?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Then follow me, please. They’re in the VIP room.”
The restaurant’s decor was fashionably austere, with floors that alternated between oak and grey tile, exposed brick walls interlaced with arches that provided a view of the open kitchen, and small windows that looked out onto the Shanghai skyline.
The dining area was laid out with corridors that created the impression of discrete spaces, and Ava had no idea they’d reached the VIP room until she saw Xu. He sat at the head of a long, narrow table lit up by a metal fixture that looked like an industrial mobile. Behind him was another enormous rendering of an old Italian painting. Aside from the painting, the room was stark.
There were six seats at the table. To Xu’s right were two grey-haired men dressed in cheap-looking suits. On his left was Pang Fai, and next to her was a man who looked to be about the same age as Xu. He was cutting into one of two enormous steaks that sat in the middle of the table. She assumed that was Tsai Men.
“Ava,” Xu said. All eyes turned in her direction.
“I’m sorry to be late,” she said.
“You can move now,” Xu said to the man sitting next to him.
The man pushed his chair back and moved to the other end of the table. Ava walked around and took his place.
“This is my friend Ava Lee,” Xu said, standing and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “And Ava, this is Pang Fai and Tsai Men. The other two are Feng and Ling. Feng works for me.”
She smiled at Pang Fai. The actress looked at her with a blank expression and then turned her attention to Tsai, who was still busily cutting the steak. The other two men stared down at the table, either in disinterest or because they knew their place.
“Some wine?” Xu asked.
“Please,” Ava said, sitting down.
“Red or white? We have both.”
“Red, please.”
Xu filled her glass. “Do you want to eat?”
“I do,” she said.
“This is an Australian Mayura full-blood wagyu that’s been grain fed for almost two years,” Tsai said. “I like this cut. It’s called the tomahawk because of the bone and the shape.”
“One of those steaks looks large enough to feed a family,” Ava said.
“More than three pounds each, but we’ll share. I insist you join us.”
“Gladly,” Ava said.
Tsai smiled, his eyes flitting up and down between Ava’s face and her chest. In the cozier environment of the suite she hadn’t realized the dress was cut quite so low. Now she began to wish she hadn’t worn it to dinner.
“Your friend is lovely,” Tsai said to Xu.
“I know,” Xu said. “I doubt there’s a table anywhere in Shanghai — no, make that anywhere in China — with two more beautiful women.”
“To our beautiful women,” Tsai said, raising his glass.
The others joined in the toast and Ava saw Pang looking coolly at her.
“I’ll serve now,” Tsai said.
“I adore your work,” Ava said to Pang as Tsai apportioned the meat.
Pang nodded as if nothing else could be expected, but then Ava saw her shoulders relax. Ava knew Pang was in her early thirties and had been a star since she was nineteen. She’d probably been in close to twenty films, ranging from gangster movies to melodramas to period pieces, from costume dramas to martial art pictures. She had been married, briefly, to the director who discovered her, but as soon as stardom beckoned she moved on to better directors and wealthier patrons. She had never remarried, but the Chinese tabloids and gossip magazines detailed a list of boyfriends who always had money or power or both. Ava couldn’t remember ever seeing Tsai’s name associated with Pang’s.
She was a beauty, with fine features and large, round eyes. There were rumours that she had laowai blood, but she always denied it. What couldn’t be denied was her talent. She was a magnificent actress, given to subtle, refined performances, and was able — as Jennie Lee said — to draw tears from a stone.
“Are you doing a film now?” Ava asked.
“I’ve just finished one here in Shanghai,” Pang said, her voice soft and husky and incredibly sexy.
“Let’s eat,” Tsai interrupted. It was an order more than a request.
Pang shot him a look that was far from pleasant.
The steak was tender enough to cut with a fork and as good as Tsai had promised. Ava emptied her plate and might have had more if there had been any left. Tsai had taken a huge portion and was still eating when Ava finished. She examined him. She noted that he used the knife and fork properly and with some dexterity, he chewed with his mouth closed, and he used his napkin to wipe the bloody juice from his mouth. His good manners were matched by a tasteful appearance. He was clean-shaven, and his short hair was parted on the right, with every hair in place. His face was slightly round, and he had a long, thin nose and a strong chin, though Ava noticed that his eyelids drooped slightly. He was wearing a grey suit with a white shirt and Hermès tie. The suit looked as though it had been tailor-made, fitting perfectly across his broad chest and shoulders and his thickening waist.
“I’m going to the washroom. Would you come with me?” Pang Fai said.
Ava blinked, knowing the question had to be directed at her, but she was still caught off guard. “Of course,” she finally said.
When Pang Fai stood up, she towered over the table. She was wearing a sleeveless blue silk dress cut with a deep slit that exposed one of her famously long legs.
Ava pushed herself to her feet and trailed the actress across the restaurant. The blue dress moved over Pang’s body as if it was fluttering in the wind. Ava heard people murmuring as the movie star floated past them.
There were two women standing at the sinks in the washroom. When they saw Pang, their mouths flew open. Pang stood back until they left. Then she walked to a sink and Ava joined her. They sto
od side by side as they washed their hands. Ava couldn’t help but watch Pang as she examined herself in the mirror and reached into her small handbag for lipstick. Ava did the same.
“Where are you from?” Pang said. “Your Putonghua has a distinct accent.”
“I’m Canadian, and there we most often refer to it as Mandarin.”
“Yes, I’ve heard that,” Pang said. “Are you from Vancouver?”
“No, Toronto.”
“I didn’t mean your dialect is poor. It’s just different. In fact, I kind of like it.”
“Thank you.”
“What do you do?” Pang asked.
“I’m in business,” Ava said.
“I thought so. How much are you charging him?”
“Charging who?”
“Xu.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I didn’t mean to insult you. We’re all working girls. No shame in that.”
“I’m Xu’s friend and I’m here on business, but not that kind of business.”
“And I’m an actress who’s here to make a movie, and now I’m making more money for last night and tonight than I made for three months on set,” Pang said. “I’ve always found the bigger the pig, the more he’s willing to pay. And Tsai is one large pig.”
“I wouldn’t know — about him or your theory,” Ava said, trying to hide her dismay.
Pang laughed. “You’re a lot like Xu.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tight-lipped.”
“Maybe I am.”
“That part of Xu makes Tsai crazy. Not as much as the fact that I have a little thing for Xu, but crazy enough.”
“How often have you met Xu?”
“I’ve been seeing Tsai for the past year. Every time we meet in Shanghai, there’s a dinner or lunch with Xu. How long have you and Xu been friends?”
“About the same length of time.”
“Then why have we never met?”
“He and I are great friends, but we have a different kind of relationship.”
“What does that mean? A quick fuck or a blow job at the hotel and then nothing to eat? That’s cheap of him.”
“No fuck. No blow job.”