THE KING OF MACAU (The Jack Shepherd International Crime Novels)
Page 17
“I looked. I didn’t see anything that looked like a security detail.”
“Was he under surveillance?”
“I don’t think so.”
“If he wasn’t under surveillance, where did the two shooters come from?”
It was a good question and I didn’t have a good answer, so I said nothing.
“How did you come to the conclusion he wasn’t under surveillance? I’ll bet you sat somewhere looking around for a few minutes like we’re doing now and then you walked right up to him, didn’t you?”
Archie knew me too well.
He stood up and brushed off the seat of his trousers with one hand. “We’ll try to do a little better than that this time.”
THIRTY MINUTES LATER WE had walked all four sides of the building without seeing anything unusual. We went into the hotel through the main entrance that faced a circular driveway off Avenida da Amizade and Archie led me across the quiet lobby and up the stairs to the mezzanine where we took seats in an uncrowded bar with a view straight down to the entrance of the hotel. Archie dumped the envelope with the security photos into the seat of an empty chair and ordered a double Johnny Walker on the rocks. I ordered a Coke. Archie shook his head in disgust.
“What now?” I asked after the drinks had come and the waiter had disappeared again.
“We watch the lobby,” Archie said and slumped back into his chair with his whiskey glass balanced on his stomach.
“For what?”
“We’ll know if we see it.”
We watched for nearly an hour and I didn’t see anything that looked unusual to me. Occasionally people wandered in and out of the lobby, but mostly it was pretty quiet. There were several couples who were checking in with their luggage and a few who were checking in without it, a group of four women headed out for a night on the town, a lone male who looked like he had much the same thing in mind, and a couple of hookers who were obviously on duty. None of them looked to me like part of a North Korean hit team.
After a while Archie ordered a second double Johnny Walker, but I passed on a second Coke. You can only drink so much before it affects your judgment.
When the waiter left, I looked at Archie’s drink as pointedly as I could. “If we have to shoot somebody, I guess it’s going to be up to me to handle that now.”
“Nope,” Archie shook his head. “I’ve got the gun, and I’m keeping it.”
“You’re carrying a gun?”
“I’ve always got a gun, mate. Never know when something unhappy might come up.”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, ARCHIE finished his whiskey, tapped the empty glass smartly against the table, and pushed himself to his feet.
“Time to rock and roll, Jacko.”
“What are we going to do?”
“I don’t see any signs of either surveillance or security, so we’ll go with your original plan.”
“My original plan? I never had a plan.”
“Sure you did. You were just going to take an elevator upstairs and knock on his door.”
That wasn’t exactly what I’d said, but I didn’t bother arguing with Archie. I only reminded him of what he had told me before. “I thought you were afraid he’d shoot me if I did that.”
“I am,” Archie grinned, “but as long as he doesn’t shoot me I figure we’ll be okay.”
He winked at me, scooped up the envelope with the security photos in it, and walked out of the bar. I dropped some money on the table and, not having any better idea what to do, followed.
TWENTY SEVEN
FREDDY WAS EXPECTING SOMEONE to pick up his dinner trolley so he opened the door without bothering to look through the viewer. He was surprised to find a middle-aged western male standing there rather than a room service waiter. The man was big, well over six feet tall and stoutly built, and he was wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. Freddy’s first impulse was to slam the door and double lock it, but he would have felt so stupid doing that so he didn’t.
“You have the wrong room.”
“No, man, this is where I’m supposed to be.”
The fellow had a half smile on his face and spoke softly in what sounded like an American accent. He seemed friendly enough and Freddy began to relax even if he still couldn’t understand what the man was doing here. Perhaps it had something to do with whoever had been in the suite before he checked in.
“Can I come in?” the man asked.
Before Freddy could say anything, the man stepped forward, gently moved Freddy aside with one hand, and walked into the suite.
Now Freddy was more pissed off than scared. His voice rose. “I said you have the wrong room.”
The man seated himself on a green and white upholstered chair, crossed his legs, and pointed to the matching couch. “Sit down, Freddy. You did tell Shepherd to call you Freddy, didn’t you?”
Freddy’s mouth dropped open as surprise turned to shock.
“Come on, sit down,” the man repeated. His voice was still soft and pleasant and he pointed toward the couch again. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
Freddy was so stunned he couldn’t think, so he walked over to the couch and sat down exactly as he had been told to. The man was sitting there in that chair, leaning back, legs crossed, smiling at Freddy like an old friend who had unexpectedly dropped in for a cup of tea.
Freddy’s mind raced. He was desperately trying to remember if he knew this man from somewhere, but he was drawing a complete blank. The man had long reddish-blond hair, a pale Nordic complexion, grey eyes, and a prominent nose. There was a boyish quality about his face, but he was at least in his mid-forties, maybe older. Freddy was sure he had never met him before. Pretty sure, at least.
And even if he had met him somewhere, what difference did it make? Not remembering the man wasn’t the problem at the moment. The problem was that he somehow knew Freddy had talked to Shepherd. Nobody knew Freddy had talked to Shepherd. Nobody except Raymond, and Shepherd himself, of course. Could Shepherd have sent this guy? Or Raymond? No, that didn’t make any sense…
Freddy remembered the two guys with guns who had interrupted his meeting with Shepherd at the Ah-Ma temple and finally admitted to himself that somebody other than Raymond and Shepherd did know. And that was when he began to smell the fear coming off his body in waves. If his brother had somehow found out that he was trying to get political asylum in the United States…well, he wasn’t certain exactly what his brother would do, but it wouldn’t be pretty. Would his brother go so far as to issue orders to have him killed? Surely not. They were brothers, for God’s sake. Assuming that mattered anymore…
And obviously this man hadn’t been sent by his brother to kill him. If he had, why was he sitting there smiling like an old friend? That didn’t make any sense.
But there was something else that made even less sense. How had this man known where to find Freddy? Freddy himself hadn’t known he was going to the Grand Lapa until a few hours ago, and he had only been in this particular room for a couple of hours. Did that mean his brother had had him under surveillance? Oh God, Freddy thought to himself, if he had been under surveillance for very long, they knew absolutely everything.
FREDDY KEPT WATCHING THE man, waiting for him to say something that might give him some clue how he knew about Shepherd and why he was here now, but the man said nothing. The silence stretched out to the point it made Freddy want to scream.
“Who are you?” he finally asked, mostly to break the goddamned silence. He wasn’t all that sure he actually wanted to know who this man was.
“My name is Harry Pine. Well, it isn’t really, but your name isn’t Freddy either, is it?”
His brother had sent this man. He had no doubt now. He didn’t know for sure how his brother had found out what he was doing, but what difference did that make now? His brother knew. That was what mattered. And he was never going to let Freddy go to the United States. Something like that would be far too embarrassing for him. It was that simple.
F
reddy eyed the door to the hallway. Maybe he should make a break for it right now. Pine wouldn’t pull out a gun and shoot him here on the top floor of the Grand Lapa Hotel, would he?
Freddy was a little afraid he was being too obvious about checking out a route to the door, but Pine didn’t appear to notice. Could he get off the couch and out the door before Pine caught up with him? And if he could, how far was it to a stairwell? He sure as hell wasn’t going to press the elevator button and stand around waiting for an elevator to show up. Pine looked athletic, and Freddy really didn’t fancy his chances of outrunning him, but what else was he going to do? Even if he only had one chance in ten to make it, he had to try. Sitting here on this couch he had exactly no chances in ten.
“You look jumpy, Freddy. You shouldn’t be. Everything is going to be fine.”
Freddy nodded, but he said nothing. He was too busy imagining himself vaulting over the end of the couch, sprinting half a dozen steps to the door, and plunging out into the hallway. Maybe he should start screaming the moment he opened the door. What could it hurt? Perhaps he would even attract enough attention to get the guy to run.
“I only want to talk to you, Freddy.”
Freddy nodded again and tried to steady his breathing. Over the arm of the couch, six quick steps to the door, outside, and down the hall. How hard could that be?
“You do know who I really am and why I’m here, don’t you, Freddy?”
Another nod. A deep breath.
“Your brother asked me to talk to you.”
Another deep breath.
“He’s not happy about you meeting with Shepherd.”
Fuck it, Freddy thought. Go!
The vault over the arm of the couch was harder than he expected. His thigh caught on something and he fell into a table. A lamp and an ashtray thumped onto the carpet. At least he fell in the direction of the door.
Righting himself, he pumped his legs as fast as he could, but out of the corner of his eye he was dimly aware that Harry Pine hadn’t moved from his chair. He hadn’t even uncrossed his legs. Freddy didn’t understand that. It didn’t make much sense that Pine wouldn’t even bother chasing him, but he wasn’t going to stick around a while and ask him why he wasn’t.
Freddy’s hand hit the handle and he jerked the door open. He plunged through it and out into the hallway.
That was when he found out why Pine hadn’t bothered to get out of his chair.
THE TWO MEN WAITING outside dragged Freddy back into the suite and dumped him on the couch more or less exactly where he had been sitting before.
“You’re being an asshole, Freddy.” Pine shook his head. “Don’t be an asshole.”
Freddy nodded. That was exactly what he felt like. A complete asshole. “You sent those two guys to the Ah-Ma temple. You tried to kill me when I met Shepherd there.”
“They were only supposed to scare you. Or at least scare Shepherd. Who they scared didn’t really matter. The point was to stop your meetings and put an end to this silly idea you have of seeking asylum in the United States.” Pine sighed heavily, uncrossed his legs, and crossed them back the other way. “If I had wanted you dead, Freddy, you’d be dead. My guys don’t miss, except on purpose.”
Freddy was slowly settling into a state of resignation. He had made his bed and now he was lying in it. His dream of going to America was over and he was in the hands of his brother. All that mattered now was what his brother intended to do with him. Nothing he could say would make any difference.
“Why do you want to go over to the Americans, Freddy?”
“You should know. You’re an American, aren’t you?”
“Oh man, I really hate people thinking I’m an American. It’s the damned accent, isn’t it?” Pine grinned. “I’m Canadian. At least I think I am. I’ve been so many things that I have a little trouble now remembering what I was when I started out. Hell, maybe I am an American. Who knows?”
Freddy started to say something about loyalty to the land of one’s birth, but it occurred to him that was a pretty silly thing to be coming out of his mouth so he said nothing.
“So have you figured out who I really am now, Freddy?”
Freddy shrugged.
“Come on, man. Pay attention. I told you I was a Canadian. I work for the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard—”
“You’re the guy they call the Canadian?” Freddy interrupted.
“You thought the Canadian was like the boogeyman, didn’t you? Just a made-up story used to frighten the children.”
Pine grinned and shook his head.
“Nope, I’m real. And, unfortunately for you, right now I’m sitting here in this hotel suite where you thought nobody knew you were.”
There had been stories around for years that the DPRK had extensive operations in Macau, that Macau was effectively the center of all of the DPRK’s international undertakings. And the sexiest of those rumors was that the DPRK’s operations in Macau were actually run by a foreigner everybody called the Canadian.
Freddy believed the first part of the story since he did know some of the things the DPRK was doing in Macau, even if he had nothing to do with them, but he thought the part about some mysterious figure called the Canadian running everything was only a fairy tale the DPRK put around to make them seem more organized and international than they actually were. Could it really be true?
“I do a lot of things for your motherland here in Macau, Freddy. I run some commercial enterprises, I handle banking operations, I sell a few bombs and rockets here and there. I even supervise preparation of the men and women the DPRK sends here to be prepared for insertion into the US and Europe as active intelligence agents. But right now you shouldn’t be thinking about any of that. One of the other things I do is keep an eye on you, friend. That’s what you really should be thinking about.”
“You’ve been following me?”
“Don’t be silly. I don’t do shit like that. At least not personally.” Pine gestured at the two goons who had dragged Freddy back into the suite when he made his absurd break for freedom. “That’s why I’ve got guys like this working for me.”
Now that Freddy looked at the men more carefully, he realized they did look a bit Korean, only not that much. They looked somehow generically Asian, like the gunmen who had come after him at the Ah-Ma temple. That did seem weird, now that he thought about it.
“We’ve got a doctor here who touches our people up a little,” Pine explained, since he could easily see what Freddy was thinking. “A nip here and a tuck there, and in the US or Europe they can pass for anything from a Chinese to a Thai. No point in going around letting their faces advertise who they really are, is there?”
Freddy wished he had thought of that, he really did. If he had, he might be on some beach in Hawaii right now.
PINE LOOKED AROUND THE hotel suite for a moment like a man contemplating the possibility of buying it, but eventually he shifted his attention back to Freddy.
“What did you offer the Americans in return for that house in Hawaii?”
Freddy looked at the floor.
“You don’t really have anything to give them, do you? You could probably tell them about a couple of our Macau front companies, but that’s about it, isn’t it? Of course, they don’t know that. You were running a little con on the Yanks, weren’t you, Freddy? I got to admit I admire you for having the balls to do that. I really do.”
Freddy kept his face empty and stayed silent.
“But of course you understand it would still be a problem for your brother if you really did go over to the Americans. Jesus, can you imagine how silly that would make him look?”
“Get to the point. What happens now?”
“Ah well, that’s the real question, isn’t it?”
Pine got to his feet and Freddy lifted his hands and flinched away from him.
“Jesus, Freddy, relax, would you? You’re going to turn me into a nervous wreck.”
“Here’s my problem, Freddy. I got orders today to kill you.”
Turning away from the window, Pine saw that Freddy’s face had gone slack and he had sunk back into the couch. He looked like a blow up doll after somebody had let the air out.
“Take it easy, man. I’m not going to do that. At least not right now.”
Freddy looked up. His expression said that he expected a trick of some kind. He was dealing with the DPRK. Everything was some kind of a trick, even if they had sometimes forgotten how the trick worked.
“The order came through channels and I can’t be absolutely sure where it originated. If somebody high up is figuring I have too much influence and wants to cut my throat, they could have sent me an order to kill the brother of the big guy without the big guy knowing about it. Then, when he finds out…well, you could imagine what would happen to me. On the other hand, if the order to kill you did come from the big guy and I don’t kill you, that would go even worse for me. You do see my problem here, don’t you?”
Pine looked at Freddy and raised his eyebrows as if he actually expected Freddy to voice his opinion on the dilemma he was facing. Freddy tried to remain still, but his head, almost as if it were operating independently of Freddy’s conscious thoughts, nodded anyway.
“Yeah,” Pine nodded back, “that’s what I thought. So here’s what I’ve decided to do…”
Pine returned to the chair where he had been sitting and resumed his previous posture. Leaning back, legs crossed, slight smile.
“You’re going to go with these two gentlemen to a place we’ve prepared for you. We’re going to keep you there until I can confirm who wants you killed and who doesn’t. If the Little Leader gives you a thumbs down, I promise we’ll get it over with as painlessly as we can. If he gives you a thumbs up, we’ll turn you loose and you’re on your own. Sound fair?”
Freddy nodded again. He hated himself for doing it, but he did it anyway.