by Ian Hamilton
“No,” Xu snapped. “As powerful as they are, there are lines that can’t be crossed.”
“The police?”
“Eventually, but the more immediate problems would be with my triad colleagues in Guangdong and Guangzhou. They’re in the business. I don’t agree with it, but they have their reasons. If I tell them that I’ve started making meth, they’ll think I’m trying to take over their markets. I mean, for the past few years all I’ve been talking about is how great it is to be out of that business. They’ll think I’m a hypocrite, or worse, a liar. The trust I’ve been building among the gangs will start to deteriorate. I’ll lose relationships and I’ll lose business. And I’m telling you, Ava, once the trust is breached, even a friend like Lam in Guangzhou will be impossible to win back, and my chances of being re-elected chairman could disappear.”
“What other risks are there?”
“The police and the military all have skin in the game. The Tsais think they can shield us from them, provide security, but I know thinking like that is careless. How do you think K and meth are getting into Jiangsu and being so broadly distributed? Deals have been cut all the way down the line, from importer to street dealer. The cops are part of the system, and no one, including them, is going to sit back and let the new boys just stroll in and take over the market. They’ll find out soon enough who we are, and then we’ll be in their crosshairs.”
“Wouldn’t the Tsais be implicated as well?”
“Not very likely. This so-called partnership wouldn’t be on paper; they’d just expect half the profits. And if the shit hit the fan, which I’m convinced it would eventually, they’d distance themselves as far from me as humanly possible. God, I can imagine them supplying the bullets to shoot me if it came down to it.”
“I can tell you’re frustrated, but I’m beginning to sense that you’re maybe resigned to it as well.”
He shrugged. “We have eight factories in Jiangsu that employ more than thirty thousand people. We could be China’s largest manufacturer of cellphones, tablets, and other devices and software that isn’t Apple, Samsung, or Microsoft. We make really good products. We have a great customer base. Profits are terrific. And the authorities leave us entirely alone. Life has never been better for my people.”
“Thanks to knock-offs,” Ava felt compelled to add.
“Yes, but we’ve still made huge investments and developed manufacturing expertise that is almost impossible for anyone else to acquire — especially quickly. So we have that market to ourselves for at least a while, and if we’re careful and manage it properly we’ll have it for years. It’s a virtual monopoly. Why, I asked Tsai Men, would I put it all at risk by moving into a business like synthetic drugs, where the competition is ferocious and my presence will only piss off my customer base for software and devices?”
“What did he say?”
“The profit margins justify it.”
“Do they?”
“Yes, if you don’t care about the long term and don’t give a shit about other consequences.”
“So it’s all about money in the here and now?”
“It’s always about money in the here and now,” Xu said, lifting the bottle. “You want another drink?”
“Sure. My head has suddenly cleared.”
He poured her a stiff shot and then looked at his plate. “Auntie Grace does make the best noodles in Shanghai, and right now I can’t taste a damn thing.”
“Can you just say no to the Tsais?” she asked.
“In so many words, I’ve done that already. It’s not an answer they’re prepared to accept.”
“What if you don’t build the plant?”
“It wouldn’t buy me any time, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Xu said. “Once the permit is issued they’ll expect to see results.”
“No, I mean what would you expect to happen if you didn’t build the plant? Surely they wouldn’t be so short-sighted as to hurt your business when it’s providing so much monthly cash to them.”
“Hurt our business?” Xu said. “Ava, if they chose, they could shut us down in no time. Permits and licences could be cancelled and our plants closed for any number of contrived reasons.”
“Including the non-contrived fact that you’re actually breaking the law?”
“That too,” he said with a tight smile. “But I’d be surprised if they wanted to call attention to that fact. It might raise questions they don’t want to answer, like how it was possible factories that size could operate without the government knowing what they were doing.”
“True enough.”
“And anyway, they’re too smart to do anything overly dramatic. I think they’d start by going after a couple of the smaller plants as their way of telling me they’re serious. They might not shut them down, but they’d make life difficult. I imagine the parts and supplies we need to make our products might be tied up. We wouldn’t get the clearances we need to export. They’d send in inspectors to comb through employment records and make us release some employees who aren’t properly documented. And so on. It would be a mess.”
“Is there anything you can do to deter them?”
“Aside from reasoning with them, nothing that I can think of. They’ve got the power and the means to use it. Uncle was always cautious, to the point of being paranoid, when it came to dealing with the politicians and bureaucrats in this country. He warned me more than once not to get too close. He said that no matter how much you pay them, you are always renting and never owning. He was right, but I got sucked in bit by bit.”
“But they’re taking money, right? They’re taking bribes. They’re corrupt as hell. What if that was known? Could you use that threat to make them back down?”
“Ava, that’s dangerous even to think about, let alone say. First, they’ve got their asses at least partially covered by all those supposedly independent companies that are issuing invoices for services rendered. There’s no proof that they’re taking bribes. Next, where are you going to take a half-baked accusation? There’s no newspaper or media outlet in China that would touch it. The Tsais control the entire legal process in the province, and many of the people working in that system are on the take as well.”
“What if you went outside the province? What if you went to Beijing?”
“That would be even riskier, and probably suicidal,” Xu said. “Tsai Lian isn’t just the governor of Jiangsu. He sits on the party’s Politburo, and that gives him the same rank as a central government minister. He’s one of the twenty-five most powerful people in the country. His fellow politicians will support him even if we have a strong case, because everyone has something to hide and one day they might need his support. No one is going to rock the boat. If we tried to make an issue of this, the entire political system from the top down would be focused on two things: protecting Tsai and killing the messenger.”
Ava shook her head in frustration. “I can’t believe there’s nothing that can be done.”
“I do have a short-term plan,” Xu said.
“Yes?”
“It’s not much of one, but it’s all I have.”
“I’m anxious to hear it.”
“I’m going to build the plant.”
“You’re serious?”
“I am.”
“Even though you think it will lead to disaster?”
“It will buy me the time you talked about earlier,” he said. “I’ll go to Guangdong and Guangzhou and tell Lam and Ming what’s going on. I’ll get one of them to help me put up the plant. We’ll create enough problems that it will take a lot longer to finish than planned. So instead of three months, maybe I can get five or six.”
“And then?”
“I either figure out a way to get around the Tsais or I’m back in drug production and will have to face the fallout.”
( 8 )
It was somewhere between two and three when Ava left the house in the French Concession and was driven back down the alleyway past the fruit cart vendor. Suen sat next to the driver in the front seat of the Mercedes. Xu was in the back seat with Ava, his left hand gripping her right.
“You should stay the night,” Auntie Grace had said to Ava. “We have a spare room.”
“No, I like my own bed, even when it’s in a hotel.”
The older woman burrowed her head into Ava’s shoulder. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him this troubled,” she whispered. “Help him.”
“I don’t know what I can do.”
“Figure something out,” she said, kissing Ava on the cheek.
As soon as Ava got into her hotel room she threw off her clothes and ran to the bed. At ten to nine, she woke with the sun boring into her eyes. She closed the drapes and retreated to bed. It was just after eleven when she woke again, this time feeling alert.
She retrieved the newspapers from the door, made a coffee, and sat in the easy chair by the window. The international New York Times was crammed with stories about leaders under attack and governments under siege, in Thailand, Italy, Iraq, Syria, France, and Ukraine. The Shanghai Daily News didn’t mention any of it. It was as if it didn’t want to give its readers any ideas. Instead, the paper was full of economic data, including several charts showing how the twenty-two provinces were performing. Jiangsu was indeed among the leading provinces in the country in GDP per capita and GNP, and given that its population at eighty million was one of the largest, its economic performance was even more impressive. Among other things, it was China’s number one exporter of textiles and electronics. Ava wondered if Xu’s products were included in the data. Whether they were or not, Tsai Lian had clearly been an effective governor. She thought about Xu’s dilemma and shivered. He obviously hadn’t exaggerated Tsai’s power and influence. If anything, he might have understated it.
Ava made another coffee and then turned to her electronic devices. There were no phone messages, but her mother had texted her twice. The first text, at five in the afternoon, Toronto time, said Jennie Lee had taken a break from the baccarat tables and was in Rama’s Chinese restaurant. She was up $5,000. The next, at eight Toronto time, said her hot streak had continued and she was moving to the high-stakes room. That was three hours ago, Ava calculated — more than enough time for her mother to burn through any winnings she’d made. She texted back, Glad to hear you’re doing well.
She turned on her computer and saw that both Amanda and May Ling had sent her emails. May Ling’s had arrived at three thirty and Amanda’s at four. Ava couldn’t believe they’d been up that late. Both of them were already tipsy when she’d left Pudong.
Wanted you to know that we’ve given everyone the day off tomorrow so there’s no rush to do anything, Amanda wrote. And wanted you to know how lucky I feel to have you as my sister and my partner. I love you, and the Pos love you, and Chi-Tze loves you. Your little sister, Amanda.
Good grief, Ava thought, she must have been really drunk when she wrote that.
May Ling wrote, We gave the factory workers the day off tomorrow, and I need it more than anyone. Can’t remember the last time I drank like this. Suki wants to meet, but I’ve put her off until dinner. Did you get a chance to talk to Xu? Call me when you’re up. You shouldn’t have bailed on me so early. Love, May Ling.
She phoned May Ling’s room.
“Wei,” May groaned.
“It’s me.”
“What time is it?”
“Close to noon.”
“God, I feel awful.”
“Drink some coffee, have a shower, and meet me downstairs in half an hour.”
“It takes me longer than that to get my face on.”
“Then forty-five minutes.”
“An hour.”
“Okay. Do you want to eat here or do you want to go out?”
“Who said anything about eating?”
“I’ll meet you in Yi Long Court on the second floor,” Ava said. “I’ll try to eat before you get there.”
“Good idea.”
Ava went into the bathroom, looked at the shower, and then went to the sink. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, brushed her hair, and then returned to the bedroom. Five minutes later she was in the elevator, wearing a black Giordano T-shirt and her Adidas training pants. It was going to be that kind of day, she decided.
The hostess at Yi Long didn’t give her a second glance before directing her to a table. She wasn’t near a window, but the view of the Art Deco objets d’art scattered around the restaurant was pleasant enough. Ava glanced at the menu, and when the server arrived she was ready to order.
“Jasmine tea, hot and sour soup with shredded abalone, pan-fried bean curd with mushrooms, Shanghai fried rice, and the pan-fried sliced cod in soy,” Ava said. “Bring whatever’s ready first.”
Half an hour later she was still working on the rice, but everything else had been consumed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so ravenous. There was something about wine and dancing that set off her appetite.
She heard May Ling before she saw her. Actually, she heard May Ling being fussed over by the staff before she saw her.
“I didn’t realize you were such a celebrity,” Ava said as May sat down.
“We just spent about half a million dollars here. If they hadn’t known who I was, I would have been angry,” May said.
“I’ve never seen you in sunglasses before.”
“And I’m not taking them off. My eyes make me look like a fish.”
“It was a great day and a great night,” Ava said.
“I’m still on a bit of a high from the show, but I can’t handle the nights like I used to.”
Ava looked down at the table. “I have some rice left if you want it.”
“Just tea.”
Ava poured. “What time are you meeting Suki?”
“Five.”
“Where?”
“I’m going to her office and then we’re going out to dinner from there. Even though we don’t have the money on hand, I think we need to get a final cost on what she wants to do and find out if there’s any flexibility when it comes to timing. I just don’t want to say no to her.”
“Me neither.”
“Will you join us?”
“I’d like to.”
May downed her tea and then held out the cup for more. “You haven’t mentioned Xu. I was hoping you had the chance to talk to him about the additional money.”
“There was no opportunity at the reception. I saw him last night but it wasn’t appropriate to bring it up.”
“You saw him last night?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you see him? You left Pudong rather late.”
“I went to his house for a few hours.”
“Oh.”
Ava wasn’t sure what emotion she had heard in May’s voice. “May, do you mind if I ask you something very personal?”
“I don’t think so, but then I haven’t heard the question,” she said carefully.
“It’s about your business in Wuhan, in Hubei.”
“Ask away.”
“Well, I remember you talking more than once about how you handle provincial officials from a remuneration standpoint.”
“You mean how we don’t handle them?”
“Yes.”
“It was Changxing who figured it out. He realized early on that giving them money or direct favours made both sides vulnerable. So he came up with the idea of providing jobs for their relatives. At first it was pretty basic work, but he made sure they were qualified and that they really worked. Then we started adding scholarships for their children — again making sure the kids were smart enough to earn them — and reserving entry-level positions for them
when they graduated.”
“So you never gave money directly to anyone?”
“Never, and if they asked for it, we didn’t do business with them again.”
“That’s what I remember you telling me. I just wanted to make sure.”
“Does this have something to do with Xu?” May asked.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t like hearing that.”
“And I understand why. It isn’t a good situation.”
“Has he been paying someone?”
“His business has.”
“Well, I may not think it’s the wisest policy, but it can be effective. It all depends, of course, on who he’s paying and how much he’s paying and what he’s paying them to do.”
“Have you heard of the Tsai family?”
“It’s a common enough name.”
“This particular Tsai family runs Jiangsu.”
May caught her breath. She adjusted her sunglasses and took a sip of tea. “I have trouble believing he’s paying them.”
“Why?”
“Maybe because I don’t want to believe it.”
“You think that highly of them?”
“Not especially, although they’re a prominent family. We were taught about Tsai Da-Xia in school. He was on the Long March and served with Mao and Zhou Enlai in the government. His son has been governor of Jiangsu forever, it seems.”
“I know about the history, and none of it excludes the possibility that they’re corrupt.”
“You should be cautious about how you use words like that,” May said with a slight shake of her head. “People in government, especially those in high positions, have to do business with all kinds of people. Maybe they’ve dealt with Xu with the very best intentions.”
“According to Xu, they’ve been taking money for years and it’s now into the millions every year.”
“Who’s been taking it?”
“The family.”
“Ava, you need to be specific. The governor’s name is Tsai Lian, as I recall. Is the money going to him?”
“Not directly.”
“What does that mean?”