The Cook, the Crook, and the Real Estate Tycoon
Page 24
After the physical abuse he’d suffered at the shed, he wasn’t thinking clearly, and the flight only confused him more; he actually ran down two lanes before realizing he was heading the wrong way. When he turned to double back, he saw shadowy figures in the next lane over and ducked into a neighboring lane to hide. He broke out in a cold sweat at the realization that he’d grown a tail when he left the shed. Earlier he’d congratulated himself on getting away, but was puzzled over how Cao would let him escape so easily by leaving only the worthless Fatty to guard him. He’d been in too much of a hurry to get away to give it much thought at the time; now it all made sense. It was a setup. Cao had meant for him to slip away, so they could follow him to the drive.
An idea crept into his head: he’d pretend not to notice the tail and continue running. If they knew that he knew that they were following him, they’d grab him and take him back to the shed, but he could still be on the lam if they thought he was unaware of them. He’d think of something on the way to get out of this jam. After leaving the lane, he made a sudden change of direction and, instead of heading for Manli’s place, ran onto a busy street heavy with late-night traffic. He went straight for a bus stop, where people waiting for the bus gave him a degree of protection. A bus arrived just as he got there; he jumped on and headed toward West Station.
He made it to the station without a hitch, not because he was alert enough to discover his tail or clever enough to pretend he hadn’t seen them. From the moment he jumped onto the bus to his arrival at the train station, he changed buses three times and each time ran the risk of being caught by Baldy Cui and his lackeys, who had wanted to seize him when they saw him getting on the bus. They did not know where he was going, but it seemed obvious that he was going to retrieve the drive, and more than once they had a chance to catch him when he changed buses. When he first sprinted out of the alley, the bus and he arrived at the stop at the same time, but the same timeliness did not prevail the next time, and he had to wait for the bus. He waited for half an hour the third time and there was still no bus, so he hailed a taxi, afraid that the longer he waited the more likely he’d be caught.
On their part, Baldy Cui and his lackeys could have grabbed him any time they wanted. They could have done it even on the bus; with a knife pressed against him, he wouldn’t dare make a sound, and the driver and ticket seller would keep their mouths shut as well. Liu made it safely to West Station, not because of his own cleverness but because of a man called Fang Junde.
Like Lao Xing, Fang was a PI from Nothing Amiss Investigative Agency, but unlike Xing, who focused on extramarital affairs and marriages on the rocks, Fang specialized in personal vendettas, breaking arms and legs. Xing’s agency was publically registered, while Fang’s was an underground operation. Like Cao, Xing and Fang had both been hired to find the drive, Xing by Yan Ge and Fang by Lao Lin. When they learned that a cook had the USB drive, and no one could find him, Lin was unhappy with Yan for hiring the wrong PI, so he got Han Shengli to look for Liu, while privately engaging Fang Junde to follow Han Shengli, bypassing Yan Ge to get to Liu Yuejin first. He did not want Liu and the drive falling into Han’s hands. It was a complicated scheme that involved even more people than before, but Lin would not be under anyone’s thumb if the double-cross succeeded. In a word, the upside outstripped the downside. It was like the Chinese story in which a mantis trying to catch a cicada is unaware of an oriole lying in wait.
By following Han Shengli, Fang Junde located Cao’s shed and had the place watched day and night. Eventually that paid off. Cao’s people nabbed Liu Yuejin with the help of Yang Zhi, but, not knowing much about Cao, Fang decided to stay hidden. He had a chance to go for Liu when he escaped, until he saw Baldy and his lackeys following Liu, which told him that Liu had been set up. He had to stop Baldy’s group before they could get to Liu. So, while Liu was busy changing buses and Baldy’s group was about to run out from under a bridge to pounce on him, Fang and his buddy blocked their way. It was apparent to Baldy that the two men did not mean well, but he mistook them as muggers who should have known better. Too preoccupied with catching Liu, Baldy did not bother talking to them before whipping out a knife, the sight of which brought out pistols from Fang and his buddy. Overwhelmed by superior firepower, Baldy froze. Knowing he’d met his match, he put the knife away and said:
“Tell us if it’s money you want. We have a job to do.”
“We don’t want money; we want him,” Fang said, pointing at Liu, who was waiting at a bus stop.
It was another group after Liu but, of course, Baldy had no idea on whose order.
“We’re all in this together, so can’t we work something out?”
“No way.” Fang shook his head and pointed the pistol at them. “Now get lost.”
Baldy Cui had been around long enough to know that Fang was no soft touch, even though the man did not raise his voice or show any emotion; he was clearly someone who meant what he said. So Cui and his buddies left with their tails between their legs.
32
Lao Xing
Liu Yuejin walked into the West Station waiting room, where all the seats—even the floor—were taken up by sleeping travelers. He knew he was safe when he saw a policeman on night patrol yawning grandly as he paced the place. Like a startled rabbit returning to its warren, Liu finally managed to calm down. But the policeman noticed Liu’s panicky, bloody face and grew suspicious. He ordered him to stop from across the way. Threading his way through the sleeping crowd, he strode over and sized Liu up.
“What happened to you?”
For Liu at that moment, police meant a safe haven, but he didn’t dare breathe a word about his situation. He’d lost a pack and found a purse with a USB drive in it, for which he’d been chased, beaten up, nearly killed. But he’d also taken part in an extortion scheme, which added more complications to an already convoluted story, one he couldn’t possibly explain coherently. Besides, he had business to take care of, and had to keep avoiding the men stalking him. Talking to the cop would only create further delay. Yet he had to account for his injured face; he had a brainstorm.
“My wife ran away and I’ve been looking for her for two weeks. Last night I found the two of them at Wangfujing, but damned if the guy didn’t beat me up. I can’t let that be the end of it.”
He wasn’t lying, technically, except for the time and place; everything he said had happened to him, and talking about it now brought back the sad memories. Compounded by what had happened over the past few days, it no longer felt like lying.
“Help me get them,” he said, grabbing the cop’s hand. “I want revenge.”
The cop was unprepared for Liu’s story, but with his misery-laden face, he didn’t look like a thief or worse.
“Let go of me.” He tried to shake off Liu’s hands. “It’s a domestic affair, not serious enough to get the police involved.”
He yawned again and waddled off.
Liu bought a phone card to make a hurried call to Manli, not to talk about the USB drive, but about a canvas bag he’d left at her place the day he fled the construction site. It contained his belongings, including a Western suit with a business card in the pocket. Lao Xing had left Liu his card the day he came with Ren Baoliang and Liu denied finding a purse. Liu remembered Xing and the card when he was at West Station waiting for an early morning train back to Henan. Manli had advised against staying in Beijing or returning to Henan. Liu did not heed her first suggestion and was nearly caught by Cao’s people, yet he ignored the second half and chose to go back to Henan. He planned what he’d do back home, which was why Xing came to mind. It was still about his lost pack.
In Liu’s reasoning, Lao Xing had seen the thieves who took Liu’s pack, first Yang Zhi and then the Gansu gang. Now that it was gone, along with the IOU, Liu was afraid that Li Gengsheng would deny ever writing a promissory note. Xing seemed to be the ideal person to bear witness for him, so Liu hoped to get Xing to return to Henan with him; he’d tell him about
the computer drive once he got his sixty thousand yuan. Since he did not have the thing on him, using it to lure Xing back to Henan with him would amount to trickery, a deception. But not entirely, at least in Liu’s mind, since the purse had been taken back to Henan by his son and Mai Dangna.
The call went through and threw Manli into a panic, since it was so late at night. Before Liu had a chance to mention his suit and the card, Manli asked about the drive, telling him she’d packed up all her valuables, ready to flee if the whereabouts of the drive was discovered. She even told him she was sticking to her original plan of never returning to her hometown. Liu’s possession of the drive was known now, because several groups of people were looking for him, but he thought they were safe as long as it didn’t fall into any of their hands. In order to calm her down, he lied, saying he was still in Beijing because the affair was winding down. He told her he’d seen the Gansu gang the night before, but they’d slipped away; he needed help finding them again from Lao Xing, who knew what they looked like. Manli dug up the card and read Xing’s number to him.
Xing was surprised to receive a call from Liu Yuejin. After Liu had lied to him about the drive, Xing had turned to looking for Yang Zhi, which had cost him two days before he realized that the cook did have the drive and that he’d disappeared with it. Xing wanted the drive for reasons different from everyone else. For one thing, he’d lied to everyone about his profession; he was, in fact, a police officer impersonating a private eye. Like everyone else, he wanted to find Liu because of the USB drive, but he was looking for something more, something pivotal, and yet he did not know what was on the drive or whether locating it would prove to be more consequential than finding something else. He deceived Yan Ge, but the real targets of his investigation were Lin and Director Jia; in a way, Yan was a point of entry, which he hoped would lead him to his targets, someone even higher than Lin and Jia. In a word, you could almost say that Xing’s target was a watermelon, while Liu Yuejin and the USB drive were nothing but a sesame seed on Xing’s chessboard, though a ready-made opening to a larger case he could not afford to ignore.
Which was why he impersonated a private eye and also why he was not as anxious as the others in looking for Liu and the drive. He was patient and methodical to begin with, and there was another reason he took his time. Over the past decade or so since joining the police force, his main task had been searching for people, a job description much like a private eye. But unlike a private eye, who rooted out third parties in extramarital affairs, he ferreted out murderers and the like, who were never in short supply, yet he slowly tired of that and became less motivated.
Another reason had to do with a career path that seemed bumpier than that of his peers; some who’d been at the police academy with him were now section heads or bureau chiefs while he was still a sergeant. It had nothing to do with his competence; in fact, he’d made more arrests than anyone else in the bureau.
But success at arrests was useless in promotion, which required personal influence. Those who were good at making connections bribed their superiors with money and were soon promoted as section heads or bureau chiefs—in a word, Xing’s bosses. By the time he realized that promotion had nothing to do with hard work, it was too late for him, as all those positions were filled. After the promotions, the section heads and bureau chiefs were now in a position to receive bribes.
In contrast, Xing was still on the street, a mere homicide detective, and the disparity in wealth and status grew ever greater, which naturally made him indignant. He was trying to arrest all the criminals out there, while in fact they were all around him. It depressed him not being able to apprehend the criminals he knew. Why was he always arresting total strangers? Why couldn’t he get some of those in power?
But when he looked around he saw the same thing happening everywhere; it had taken more than a couple of people and a few days for society to get to this state. There were plenty of criminals out there. In fact, the world was filled with them. All crows, as the saying goes, are the same color. He began to have doubts about his job of catching one group of crows for another group. He could not comprehend the logic of how this vast world worked. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t.
He’d gotten help from the head of the Worried Wise Men Inquiry Agency, a former colleague who had quit his job over similar doubts. Using his talent and experience, the former colleague had opened the agency, specializing in extramarital affairs. When Xing next saw the man, he’d put on weight, spent money lavishly, had moved into a villa, and drove a Mercedes. Xing felt a different kind of indignation; his friend made a living by undertaking investigations for clients while Xing did the same thing, but for the crows. It made sense to do it for money and no sense to work for the crows.
For the past two weeks, since beginning his impersonation, he’d been tempted to quit and take up the same line of work as his friend. When he first met Yan, he’d told Yan that he’d become a PI after failing in business, which was a lie, but a genuine expression of his sentiment. In his conflicted state, he lost his zeal and his judgment suffered, which was one reason the search for the USB drive had been such a convoluted process, though no one else knew that. He was not fully aware of the importance of the drive until Liu vanished and Yan turned panicky.
This might be a more critical opening than he’d realized, he told himself, and he regretted being sloppy. But it was too late to go back and search for Liu. This was not the first time he’d missed an opportunity, and he’d just have to accept the reality. In the end, he was not as anxious as Yan and the other searchers; one day he’d quit and open his own investigative agency. He had no trouble sleeping at night.
Liu’s call came at five in the morning, reigniting the fire of passion in Xing, particularly after hearing what Liu had to say. He talked fast and in a Henan dialect, so Xing only got half the story; but that was enough for him to learn what had happened and why Liu needed to go to Henan. Liu told him he wanted to get rid of the purse as soon as possible, otherwise he wouldn’t have called. Xing had to go with him to Henan in case someone tried to grab him again along the way. Xing fell for the half-truth in Liu’s story. He even felt energized, though not because the vanished clue had appeared on his doorstep; his curiosity was piqued—he would really like to have a look at the contents of the drive. He agreed to make the trip.
“How do I find you?” Liu asked. “I don’t want to run into those people again.”
Xing was tempted to tell Liu to go to the train station precinct, but he sensed that he might make Liu suspicious of a private investigator telling him to go to the police, and would likely vanish again. He couldn’t tell Liu to wait at the train station either, not with people following him. What if someone grabbed him before he could get to him? While his mind went through various options and their respective permutations, Xing began to laugh. Who’d have thought a cook at a construction site could be so important to so many people? Liu Yuejin might turn out to be quite an interesting character, Xing mused.
In the end, he told Liu to buy a ticket to Shijiazhuang and call him with the schedule. Xing would ask a friend to pick him up there while he would drive up to meet him, and from there they would go to Henan together.
33
Liu Yuejin
After boarding the train, Liu Yuejin looked around to make sure he wasn’t being followed and finally felt somewhat at ease. Even had there been people tailing him, they would not have been able to take him off a moving train with crowds of passengers and transit police patrolling the aisles. And if they tried, he’d simply cry for help. Leaving Beijing was fleeing from danger; still, he wistfully gazed out the window at the receding scenery. Six years earlier, he’d left Henan for Beijing to make his fortune and, more importantly, get away from the reminders of sadness in his hometown. He’d known no one in the city, but after six years it had become a home away from home. At night he dreamed more about Beijing than about Henan, though he always thought he’d leave one day, wh
ether he had a successful life there or not. But he never imagined he’d be escaping from the city, now that it had become unhealthy to stay there.
On second thought, the possible fatal ending to his Beijing sojourn had nothing to do with his life over those six years; it was all a result of what had happened over the past two weeks. After losing a pack and finding a purse, one thing had led to another, and then to something else altogether. Changes like that were not unprecedented in his life, but mostly they had been trivial matters turning into something major or vice versa. No matter how they changed, they were still the same matter; or, in Liu’s down-home analogy, an ant turned into a different ant or, at most, a fly.
But now an ant had suddenly transformed itself into a tiger that pounced on him, a first in his forty-odd years. He could not comprehend how a lost pack could threaten his very existence. No one had cared when he lost it, but disaster had struck after he picked up the purse. People—lots of them—were after him.
Lucky for him, one of them was Lao Xing, whom Liu hoped would serve as a witness. He did not trust Li Gengsheng, a man who would not hesitate to sleep with another man’s wife. If he failed to get his sixty thousand, Liu would lose on every front—his wife, the money, and maybe even his son. But what if Li refused to pay up without the IOU, even with Xing present? What could Xing, a private investigator away from his territory, do for him? What then? With no feasible solution, Liu decided he’d just have to wait and see.
Then his thoughts turned positive: if Xing managed to convince Li, then Liu would get his sixty thousand yuan and everything would change. He’d be able to carry out his grand plan. After the clamor over the purse died down, he’d return to Beijing and open a diner. In the past he’d thought of doing that, but had neither the money nor the connections; now after six years, he knew quite a bit about the business.