Conspiracy of Fire

by Tony Bulmer

  so they could make a move the next time the lights went down.

  But the lights in the room burned ever brighter, glowing silver and gold for Deng Tao, the billion-­‐dollar god of the new money economy. Karyn struggled to picture his face, her mind flipping back to newsstand copies of Time magazine and late-­‐night cable news shows. As her mind turned over the puzzle, she came up with the face of a slick, nondescript Asian guy, possibly Chinese or Korean, who looked more “Wall Street” than the New York Stock Exchange. But as the pumping music subsided, and a diminutive figure walked out onto the golden stage, Karyn was surprised.

  This was Deng Tao?

  How could it be so?

  For a start, he was dressed in smart casual

  khakis and a button-­‐down shirt, in a washed out prison blue, like he didn’t give a damn about social convention, or the thousand plus paying guests decked out in full-­‐blown black-­‐tie eveningwear. Not only that, he was wearing boating loafers—without socks, and he had a pastel colored designer golfing sweater thrown across his shoulders, like he had just walked off the 18th fairway and didn’t give a damn who knew about it. But more surprising than all of this, was Deng Tao’s face—he was young— much younger than Karyn had pictured—early twenties at the most and short with it. The guy looked like an overgrown college kid, fresh of Harvard or some other Ivy League den of haut monde elitism.

  A thunderous ovation sounded out. Everyone on their feet now, applauding the

  triumphant arrival of Deng Tao. As the rapturous applause continued, Karyn looked beyond the circle of security guards, pressing in around her, and marveled at the passion and enthusiasm of this welcome. It was as though this young and diminutive figure was going to ennoble each member of the audience individually, with gifts of unlimited wealth and power. The wild enthusiasm spread, until it seemed that the whole world was rising up. Deng Tao moved center stage, gave a smile and an almost humble nod to acknowledge the rapturous greeting, then he raised his hands in silent benediction; that he might launch into his speech.

  As the applause finally subsided, Deng Tao, spoke for the first time, “Friends, I thank you for coming this evening,”—wow, even his voice was quiet and unassuming thought Karyn and he had an accent, although very slight, that betrayed an impediment of speech, like he was straining to lisp, but couldn’t quite make it—either through a gargantuan level of self control—or more likely, a long association with the best speech therapists and language experts that money, could buy. Jeez, this guy was something. Not only did he look like a Silicon Valley super nerd, he sounded like one too.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for a new business model.”

  Whoops and cheers—a burst of excited applause. Karyn rolled her eyes. Deng Tao tilted his head, raised his hands slightly, as though he were trying to hold back a surge of uncontrolled ecstasy.

  “For too long, world government has enslaved us, held us back in a cycle of

  depravation—held us prisoner to their demands— strip-­‐mined our precious resources—”

  Karyn looked up at the stage, through narrow eyes. It was hard to tell where this cut-­‐off little kook was going with this slice of all

  encompassing wisdom, but dollars to donuts there would be some kind of cash-­‐pledge pay off at the end of this little soliloquy.

  Deng Tao paused, gave a blissful smile, as though he were party to a great secret that would change the world forever. “Those of you are here this evening, are believers, investors and

  facilitators of the new future, and I am here to tell you that you are all at the very forefront of the monumental and historic changes we are about to witness in world events.”

  Karyn frowned. She never much cared for politicians of any description; their snake-­‐oil promises and self-­‐serving policies always fell short of changing anything, anywhere. It seemed like the world turned around, no matter what the folks in government did. And here was a private sector politico, promising the very same things others had been promising since the dawn of organized government. Such promises just didn’t make sense. This Deng Tao guy was obviously a dead-­‐beat huckster, making ready to work a long-­‐con on his adoring public.

  “The Tao Corporation is world leader in cutting edge technologies—computing, aerospace, automotive. We are also experts in mining and advanced logistical solutions. Our biotechnology division has of course been responsible for many of the latest innovations and patents in the fields of medical research and food-­‐based innovation. But, it

  is our world changing discoveries, in the field of power generation that I would like to focus on this evening, because thanks to the Tao Corporation, we are about to herald in a new era of unlimited free power.”

  Once again, the audience were on their feet, cheering on their messiah with almost boundless enthusiasm.

  Karyn folded her arms and sucked back her skepticism. Free power? What kind of planet was this guy from? He had to be nuts if he thought that the big-­‐money boys behind oil, gas and nuclear were just going to step aside and take a hit from eco-­‐weenie energy. There was just no way that little scenario was going to come to pass—unless…

  Karyn became suddenly aware of a slim figure, pulling close along side her.

  Calista Johnston looked at her, with hollow-­‐ eyed intensity, devoid of her all encompassing sunglasses, her face looked almost skeletal. “Impressive isn’t he? I am glad you could come my dear, I was hoping that you would find time in your schedule, so that you might bear witness to the cause.”

  “And what cause is that exactly?”

  Calista Johnston smiled, but it was a smile without humor. “The need for a new and more human future, of course. Something very many of us—the people who matter—subscribe to all ready.” A thin boney arm coiled around Karyn’s waist, “Come with me my dear. We can watch from an altogether more comfortable vantage point, and afterwards, when the speech is over, I will introduce you to Mr. Tao.”

  “And if I choose not to?”

  Calista Johnston laughed, there was humor there now, but it was cruel ironic humor, that drew back the covers on a deeply and unpleasant subtext. “Don’t be silly my dear. Everybody wants to meet Mr. Tao. And besides, you have no choice in the matter.”

  Karyn raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Tao insists that he meet you my dear, a most uncommon privilege.“

  “I am flattered.”

  The dark skeletal eyes stared into her, for a long moment, then Calista Johnston said, “You should be flattered my dear,” the thin arm wrapped tighter around Karyn’s waist. “Come this way.” Calista Johnston’s voice was hard and final, leaving no room for misunderstanding.

  As they walked, Congo and his monkey-­‐ suited goons closed about them—so close now you could smell the ’roid-­‐rage oozing, out of every muscle-­‐bound pore.

  21

  It was a hard, ugly room, full of hard ugly people, not even the high-­‐e
nd designer furnishings could hide that fact. Karyn walked in. Took a look around, noted the angular deco floor lamps, the heavy oversized office desk, and the triple glazed patio windows looking out to the ocean. “You are really going to have to work on your back of house experience when your people take over the world Calista.”

  Calista Johnston pulled her silver cigarette case from her handbag and said smoothly, “Our people all ready rule the world Karyn. Our purpose is merely to liberate them from the shackles of Big Government. You of all people should understand that. She extracted a cigarette, thoughtfully, from the case and fired it up with a hot burst of butane.

  “She’s packing a weapon, you know that don’t you?” blurted Congo his face burning with barely concealed loathing. “Probably wearing a wire too.”

  Calista Johnston took a pull on her cigarette. “Please, Ted. Ms. Kane here works for the United States Government, of course she carries a weapon, although I cannot imagine why, when she is surrounded by friends.”

  Congo opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. He paused, then said, “I should go through her bag at the very least, she…”

  “Really, Ted. I strongly urge you to mind your manners. Ms. Kane—Karyn, is our guest. Still, I suppose a tenacious nature is a prerequisite of your profession, is it not?

  Congo took a step back, his eyes popping with anger.

  The distant sounds of Deng Tao’s voice, booming over the public address system, filtered into the room, mixing seamlessly with the heady atmosphere

  of nicotine and testosterone. Congo eased back reluctantly, positioning himself by the door, whilst his thuggish cronies monopolized a set of grey plastic-­‐ stacko chairs. The goons looked uncomfortable, like they would rather be home watching the big game, or drowning down suds at the local strip-­‐joint, rather than baby-­‐sitting some rich old lady and her schmantzy government pal. Karyn took a look at each of them in turn, making sure she could pick them out in a parade, if she ever got the chance. If being the operative word, because she was now working this gig as above the line as it was possible to be, without her cover being blown wide open.

  Watching Calista Johnston pace the window, Karyn knew the old-­‐girl was rattled, she had to be, with the bullet-­‐riddled remains of the Honolulu police department’s most personable detective splashed all over her private parking garage.

  Karyn leaned on the edge of the oversized office desk, hearing the muffled applause of the distant crowd, as they soaked up Deng Tao’s Power and Freedom routine. Frankly, thought Karyn, she had heard enough. It was like the midget millionaire, or billionaire, or whatever the hell he was, had figured himself as the new god of some hokum hybrid of politics and religion. All that bull about empowerment and freedom would never cut it in the real world. There had to be an angle to this guy, a dirty little secret that went beyond the happy-­‐ clappy horseshit.

  The room went silent.

  Silent for a long time.

  Every one waited, then waited some more. The

  security guards were exchanging glances now, like they had somewhere else better to go. Congo meanwhile, loomed by the door, his arms folded in a furious knot. He was a hard guy to like by the look of him, but Karyn figured he must have some redeeming features tucked away underneath that ugly exterior. Maybe he had a mom, or a dog, or a penchant for community outreach?

  Karyn puzzled over the possibilities Staring at him all the while. He didn’t like being looked over. He glared back at her, a hard scowl cutting his brow, his nostrils flaring with barely concealed hate. At length, Karyn pointed at him and said, “I know what it is—You got yourself a female supervisor—don’t you, Congo? What is the matter with you, she treat you like the office bitch or something?”

  Congo took a sudden step forward.

  But Karyn was ready. “You need to watch that attitude you are carrying buster. A hair-­‐trigger temper like that could lead to injury—serious injury.” Still leaning against the edge of the desk Karyn gave Congo a cool look, like she could bust him in half any time she wanted.

  “You want to keep your big government mouth to yourself Kane, we don’t like your kind out here.”

  “That so,” said Karyn, her voice flat and deadly.

  There was the sound of prolonged applause from the ballroom now, and a building wave of ecstatic cheers. The final encore had been made. Deng Tao was on his way. Next, a backstage meet and greet and limos to the after-­‐show. Karyn sniffed. The whole scene was getting a little too dramatic for her taste. She smiled quietly to herself. Maybe this moneybags mastermind would be able to throw some insights her way regarding the Tex Johnston murders?

  —Footfalls approaching along the corridor.

  —A crowd of excited voices.

  —The sound of cameras rattling on auto-­‐wind.

  The door opened and there he was—Deng Tao.

  He stood in the doorway for a moment, blinking in the scene, then gave a bland enigmatic smile that oozed duplicity.

  “Ms. Kane, how wonderful to meet you at last,” oblivious to anyone, but Karyn, he reached out to shake her hand.

  Karyn let the hand hang for a three-­‐count. It was tiny and manicured, almost womanish. Finally, she

  reached out and the hand enveloped hers. Deng Tao’s hand was soft and moist, but the grip was firm, reinforced quickly by a second grasping little hand, closing in around the first, boxing her hand, in a show of assertiveness. She stared into his eyes. An endless darkness yawned back at her, cold and unfathomable. Here was a man with the pathological need to control. Grasping her hand, she felt as though Deng Tao were snatching at her soul so that he might turn it over in his tight, moist little hands, to consume at his will.

  “I have heard much about you,” said Karyn. “I understand you work for the government?” said Deng Tao, his light reedy voice, clipped and businesslike.

  “I work for the people of the United States of America.”

  “Deng Tao nodded, “And it is in that key respect that we differ Ms. Kane, for I am a servant of the whole of mankind.”

  “So I hear,” said Karyn. “That is a pretty wide constituency.”

  “On the contrary Ms. Kane, mankind is already united. It is the narrow worlds of politics and religion that draw division.”

  Karyn nodded. “That is a cute sentiment, but I am here to oversee a murder investigation.”

  “A murder investigation Ms. Kane? I don’t know whether to be shocked or excited,” said Tao, a ripple of amusement ran out amongst his followers.

  Karyn gave Tao a flat look, “Murder is no laughing matter Mr. Tao. The deaths at Senator Johnston’s apartment were highly suspicious.”

  Tao pantomimed concern, “You are quite right Ms. Kane, a most terrible affair. I understand from the television news that the poor senator was involved in a quite unsavory liaison and took his own life as a result.”

  “You own a television network, don’t you
Mr. Tao.”

  “I own a number of networks, and many other

  things too. Perhaps I can be of service to you in your

  investigations?”

  “Such matters take time, as I am sure you will

  understand Mr. Tao, but I will be sure to call on you,

  should I find it necessary.”

  Tao looked into her soul, his black eyes greedy

  and inscrutable, “So, you have not yet found the true

  reason behind Senator Johnston’s most regrettable

  decision to end his life?”

  “He didn’t end his life Mr. Tao. Senator Johnston

  was murdered.”

  Tao raised his eyebrows, “Murdered you say, a

  fascinating hypothesis, Ms. Kane. But tell me, what

  interest does the United States Justice Department have,

  in these most unfortunate events? I would have thought

  such maters fell under the jurisdiction of the Honolulu

  Police Department?”

  “As I am sure you know Mr. Tao, Senator

  Johnston, was chairman of the Congressional House

  Committee on Oversight and Government Reform; a key

  figure in the passing of the new energy bill. ”You are in

  the energy business aren’t you Mr. Tao?”

  Tao tilted his head at an angle that might