by Sewell, Ron
A slow smile materialised on Maria’s face. “Be careful.”
At that moment Charlie entered the room with Alysa holding the loose skin around his neck.
“Well, Dog’s taking Alysa for a walk.”
“Those two are inseparable," said Maria.
“Ok, I’m off for a shower and then I’ll make my way into town.”
“Will Bear be watching?”
Petros grinned. “Doesn’t he always?”
“I’m glad he does.”
* * *
Petros threaded his way through the crowds listening at Speakers’ Corner and walked at an easy pace towards the rose garden. To his right Bear mixed with the shuffling throng and disappeared.
He stopped under a beech tree, its leaves rustling in the wind. From behind the gnarled trunk he studied a man busy examining a yellow rose. The man’s expensive but unbuttoned camel overcoat covered a dark blue suit, tailored to mask a rotund middle.
George inhaled the scent, raised his head, turned and faced him. “Petros Kyriades. As a Cypriot your blond hair is unusual.”
Petros did not hold out his hand. “Mr Yee-Ming.”
“Please call me George.”
“George is not Chinese.”
George’s face lit up as he laughed. “My mother was a Hong Kong whore and my father Sailor George. What’s a name? A method of identification.”
The distraction, meant to reassure, did nothing but make Petros cautious. “George, I don’t want trouble, but can I trust a man who has my boat destroyed?”
George grinned. “You have heard of Confucius. I live my life by his teachings. He tells us when we make a mistake never hesitate to correct the error. I believe I have done that in your case, though the fault was not mine.”
A strange sensation jarred Petros. “Where is that employee now?” he said in a tone that caused George’s facial expression to waver.
“I liquidated his contract.”
“You mean you killed him.”
Indignation filled his voice. “I assure you, I did not kill him! We should talk but not here. It’s a pleasant enough day. Let’s stroll through the park.”
Petros hesitated.
“Come.”
The two men wandered in silence out of the rose garden and meandered in the direction of the Serpentine Lake.
George turned towards Petros. “You’ve studied Chinese history?”
“No.”
“I’m sure you are aware of the Rubik Cube …”
They strolled and Petros gazed at a man who possessed the power of life and death over others. Where was this conversation leading? “The old cube? Played with it for hours until completed and then tossed in the bin. What’s the connection?”
“For your information, the Chinese invented, or more correctly, made puzzles long before the world traded as it does today. History tells us emperors paid large sums of money for puzzles to confuse visiting dignitaries. A Manchurian emperor once placed a block of gold inside a puzzle and challenged his courtiers to remove the gold and win their freedom, but to fail meant death.” He studied Petros’ facial expression. “I need you to find a puzzle.”
They crossed the bridge over the lake and wandered toward Queen Victoria’s statue.
George stopped, stared at the image of Victoria, gave a court bow and strolled onward.
Petros contemplated George’s words. “What’s so special as regards this puzzle? Surely you are on intimate terms with people who would and could obtain this at a fraction of my costs?”
George shook his head. “You live in a world full of rules. China is different. In the past emperors dominated and believed they were gods. To gaze into the eyes of a god meant death. The British addicted the Chinese to opium and won the first drugs war.” He carried on, not waiting for a response. “The treaty of Nan king demanded obedience and gave the people nothing but hardship, unless you were God. Gunboat diplomacy by the British and others did nothing for China. Shall we sit for a few moments? My feet ache.”
They found an empty bench and sat. Petros glanced at the man sweating beside him. “Today, when I woke up, I never expected a lecture on Chinese history.”
“Why are the young so impatient? I do not waste my breath. For you to understand you must listen. The Empress Dowager Cixi, mother of child Emperor Tongzhi, controlled her son from behind the curtain. Cixi established her own power base by diverting funds from their intended sources. To continue the strength of the dynasty, imperial treasures found their way to secret locations throughout the Empire. At the start of the twentieth century, Empress Dowager Cixi conspired with the Lady Yehenara, her niece. Following the murder of the Imperial Consort Zhen, Lady Yehenara removed jewels, gold and silver ingots from the Forbidden City. The location of this concealed fortune remained with the Empress Dowager Yehenara and her girl slave.
“At the age of forty-four, Yehenara died. Powerful as she was, she made her slave swear never to tell her secret except to the next Emperor of China. To guarantee her silence she had the girl’s tongue cut out.”
“The perfect way to win friends.”
“Please let me continue,” said George, his eyes devoid of any warmth. “Yehenara arranged for engraved wooden beads to show the location of the horde. These in the form of a necklace she gave to her slave. No one except Yehenara understood the meaning of the beads and she took this secret to her grave.
“With the Qing dynasty abolished, Ling Mi, the slave girl, discovered freedom. Unable to speak, she found work as a farm labourer, married, and produced one girl child. Ling Mi, later in her life, gave her daughter Tao her wooden puzzle indicating to her that, as an item from the Forbidden City, it was priceless.
“Tao, through the misfortune of her mother, existed as a bonded servant to a farmer. She treasured her mother’s gift and intended to pass it to Lin, her daughter conceived when her master raped her. Tao died during the birth of another child. This creature uses Lin for sex in the barn where she sleeps with her son and animals.
“The girl Lin exists and I want you to bring her to England with the necklace.”
Petros’ eyes narrowed. “You expect me to believe that after a hundred or so years this girl will have the puzzle?”
George’s face remained impassive. “A good card player always holds the best hand. One soldier, a drunk who assisted in transporting the treasure, escaped and survived. He searched for and found Ling Mi and attempted to steal the puzzle, but failed and ended his life in prison. Mad, he told the story a thousand times and one of his guards put the tale in writing. He told his children the words of a crazy man. One of them kept his father’s storybook. I will show you the book if you insist but you would not be able to comprehend.”
A smile formed on Petros’ lips. “You expect me to believe such a wild story?”
George nodded. “I do and I’m willing to pay a high price for the girl and the puzzle.”
“You believe this fairy tale. What’s to stop me finding the girl and keeping what I find?”
George stared at him. “Many things. You do not speak or read Chinese. The girl is illiterate and has no idea as to its worth. For me to decipher the clues may take years.”
“What do you want from me?”
George took a white envelope from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to Petros. “Please, one cheque for half a million pounds. Information on where the girl lives. I will pay for her and the necklace but do not need to be aware of the details.”
“What’s this puzzle similar to?”
“A Rubik Cube but in twenty-seven pieces which have been fashioned into a necklace,” said George as he wiped a film of dust from his shoes. “You must complete the cube to get the information. Unfortunately, it will be well-worn with no colours to guide you.”
Petros stared at George. “What happens to the girl?”
Surprised by the question, George paused before answering. “She will be well cared for.”
“What does that m
ean, as a unpaid whore in a brothel?”
“No,” said George. “To begin with, she will live in my house and learn how to speak English. Given enough time, one of my colleagues might make use of her in the catering profession. From that point, her destiny will be up to her.” George ran his hand across his bald head. “I want an answer in two days.”
He stood abruptly. “I’ll leave you to give it due consideration. From what my informants tell me, you’re the best in the business. You’d be surprised what I know about you and your partner, Mr Morris. More importantly, I believe you will enjoy the challenge.”
Petros laughed softly knowing George was not far off the mark.
“Goodbye, George. I might just call you tomorrow, or maybe not.”
Chapter Eleven
Bear leant back into the soft leather of his favourite armchair. Opposite sat his partner. “You want this job, don’t you?”
Petros gave a look of misgiving. “I do, but what in your opinion are our chances of success?”
“Slim to none. Getting the woman out of the country won’t be easy.”
“As we discussed earlier, use the Red River. The other way is over the mountains and into Vietnam.”
Bear wrinkled his nose. “UK customs will be a no-no.”
Petros rose from the chair and crossed to the window, peeked out and turned. “I reckon we can do it.”
“And what if I say no?”
“You know the answer. The reality is I need you as back-up.”
“Jesus Christ, you love to fall in the shit and come out smelling of roses.” He gave a thin smile. “Someone has to guard your back, so I’ll come with you to China on one condition: when the proverbial starts flying we lift and shift. Chinese jails tend to put you on the endangered species list. The thing is always have a Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B?”
“Fucked if I know but you can tell George, yes.”
“Great,” Petros muttered. “What’s next?”
“Book a two month holiday in China.”
* * *
Maria raised herself on one elbow and stroked her husband’s chest. His eyes remained closed and he smiled. The light from the moon shone through their bedroom window, illuminating the bed. “You’re planning another collection, aren’t you?”
“How can you tell?”
“More often than not, when we make love I climax. Tonight you made it happen more than once.”
He touched her cheek. “Goes to show how good I am.”
A pillow hit his head. “I might have something to do with it.”
Petros burst out laughing as he slid his arm under her waist, feeling the warmth of her body and pulled her towards him. “You need more practice.”
Chapter Twelve
Petros relaxed in the comfort of first class seats. Bear fell asleep the moment the 747 became airborne. Despite his weariness, Petros stared out of the window and pondered this collection. Leaving China might be difficult but not impossible, providing the correct bribes found the right pockets. Judas Iscariot and thirty pieces of silver appeared a suitable comparison, he mused.
After a few hours in the transit lounge in Beijing International Airport, the two men departed on a China Airways flight to Kunming. The airliner landed on the stroke of midnight, local time. The formalities completed, a uniformed airport official directed them to the waiting red taxis. Prepared, Petros produced a sheet with the name of the hotel in Chinese. The driver gave a cheerful but toothless grin and nodded. Petros waved an American ten-dollar note in front of the driver’s eyes. With much head shaking and nodding they agreed on a price. Petros held the money while they scrambled into the shabby rear seat. Before they were seated, the car charged into the busy traffic.
“Are we going the right way?” asked Bear.
“I don’t bloody know. I gave him the address, so I guess we are.”
Fifteen minutes later the vehicle stopped outside the Green Lake Hotel. Petros handed the man the ten-dollar note and one-dollar tip. Without a nod or thank you, he dragged their cases from the boot, dropped them, jumped into his taxi and raced away.
“You never were the world’s biggest tipper,” said Bear, picking up his case.
Petros shrugged, and with bag in hand followed Bear. “From Chinese junk to five star luxury.”
The receptionist smiled pleasantly, and in reasonable English said, “Mr Kyredes and Mr Morris, welcome. These forms you complete. Give passports, please. Executive suite with two bedrooms ready. The dining room not open. You want food, me arrange.”
Petros signed the visitors’ book and examined the foyer before answering. “Any chance of a dozen roast beef sandwiches with English mustard and a couple of beers in our suite?”
“Me tell chef.”
The night porter pointed to the lift and picked up their cases.
Once inside their suite Bear slumped into an armchair. “It’s been a long couple of days and the sooner I eat and find my bed the better.”
“I agree.”
They ploughed through the plateful of sandwiches, drank their beers and relaxed in the sumptuous armchairs, letting the stress of the day evaporate.
“First thing tomorrow I must hire a car,” said Petros. “Now I’m off for a relaxing bath, after which I’m going to slide my body under those crisp white sheets and sleep. Don’t bother to wake me. I’ll get up when I’m good and ready.”
“Stuff the wash,” said Bear as he opened the mini-bar. “One large brandy and bed.”
Both men strolled to their separate bedrooms.
Petros woke and checked his watch: six o’clock. He added eight hours and reset the time. The shower invigorated his long, lean body when he switched it from hot to cold repeatedly. Dressed in blue jeans, a casual white cotton shirt and ready to meet the day, he rang reception.
The young woman asked, “Mr Kyredes, now afternoon. Why you want breakfast?”
“I know it’s the wrong time but my body clock demands food. Breakfast for two? One comprising four slices brown toast, marmalade, and fresh orange juice, the other three-times English breakfast. Oh, add several extra slices of bread and a large pot of fresh coffee.”
“Your breakfast, ten minutes, please.”
Petros sat eating toast and marmalade and sipping coffee while Bear, in his boxer shorts, stuffed egg and bacon sandwiches into his mouth.
“Fills a hole,” said Bear. “What time’s lunch?”
Petros shook his head. “Okay, you big lummox. Get showered and dressed. Can’t have the locals believing a wild beast’s on the loose. They’ll be reporting sightings of a Yeti.”
He feigned a blow at Petros’ head. “Cheeky brat.”
“I’m going to hire an SUV. Back soon.”
With the receptionist’s help, the hiring of a car became straightforward until Petros asked if she had a detailed road map of the region.
“Why you want map? Plenty visitor drawing. You no need,” said the striking but questioning woman.
He attempted to explain, he wanted to visit the real China. Her poor understanding of the English language created problems. After fifteen minutes he hired a four-by-four.
“Outside,” she pointed. “Visa or Diner’s?”
Petros handed over his Visa while she continued, “Big car, big deposit. You damage, must pay. Give me England driving card.”
Petros passed his license across the desk.
The woman studied the picture. “This you?” she pointed.
“Yes.”
“Poor picture, you younger in fresh. Here, take.”
By the time Petros had completed the paperwork, a man appeared at the reception desk. “Mr Kyredes.”
Petros faced a small, well-dressed man who bowed. “This is best car. Good car, not many kilometres on meter. You come, good car.”
He tugged at Petros’ shirt and guided him to the car park reserved for guests. “Me show how to drive.”
Petros saw no point in arguing and let him get
on with it.
The man ran around pointing to wing mirrors, windows, tyres, and with each detail grinned.
Petros nodded convincingly. On starting, the engine stuttered as it missed a beat.
“Engine cold,” said the little man. “Better when hot.”
He removed the ignition key but the engine continued running for a few uneven throbs.
“Good,” said the man.
Fifteen minutes later Petros returned to their suite. “We must get a proper map. These tourist guides are a waste of time. Nan Ping is in the middle of bloody nowhere and we need to find it.”
A local bookshop proved to be an Aladdin’s cave. Despite Petros being unable to speak Mandarin, and the shop owner no English, they found an excellent map of Yunnan Province. Amazed, he noted this edition itemised bus routes, hotels and a multitude of useful information in English. The shop owner pressed another package into Petros’ hand. On opening, he discovered a magnifying glass. He frowned.
The man opened the map, grabbed the glass from Petros, and held it not far from the paper. The translations into English were in minute letters.
Petros bowed and thanked him.
Somewhere in Nan Ping lived a woman they must find.
Chapter Thirteen
The following morning, after a restful night’s sleep and a cooked breakfast, they dressed for the inclement weather. Petros drove as they went in search of the Red River. Bear, with the aid of the glass, read the map and navigated through the maze of unfamiliar streets. Their vehicle did not have the luxury of a European four-wheel drive but did the job. The suspension made the ride hard when the front wheels found potholes. More than once the steering wheel turned in the opposite direction, jarring Petros’ arms. The day wore on and they took turns to drive. The roads became narrow and winding the higher they climbed into the mountains. Without warning, the road plummeted into lush-green terraced valleys. With Yuxi far behind, they motored toward Gejio in the south of the province. A watery sun dropped beneath the horizon and twilight began. Within an hour, darkness covered the region.