The Thought Cathedral

by Nathan Williams

  Pernetta Walker, who’d remained silent to this point, said, “Has anything come back yet from forensics from the first letter?”

  “Actually, yes. The internet address that was listed on the letter is essentially a digital drop box. Our technicians have traced it to a server located in Hong Kong. That’s as far as we’ve gotten on that. The paper that was used was made out of grass pulp, which is unusual and points toward a production location somewhere in China. Also, the ink used to write the letter is made of pine soot. This ink is particularly troublesome to manufacture and, I understand, is also typically found in China, where it’s used for Chinese calligraphy.”

  “Everything is pointing directly at the Chinese,” Cardenas said. “It’s like they’re broadcasting their involvement in this.”

  “That’s exactly right,” Rose said. “But our analysts both in the Bureau and elsewhere seem to believe that, generally speaking, the Chinese government wouldn’t be compelled to pull something like this at this time, even given the highly valuable and classified nature of the information they’re seeking. They have too much at stake economically with respect to their relationship with us. There has been, over the past few months, an unprecedented amount of cooperation between us. Most believe that this is not coming from the Chinese government. There is a minority, however, that believes the Chinese are audacious enough to try something like this. As for us, we’ll just continue to follow the evidence.”

  “I want to get an update from you on any other information we have related to this case,” Rose said. “Does anybody have anything else to add at this time?”

  “I have the sketch that was produced by the witness to the Rochelle Honeycutt abduction,” Walker said. “It’s not much. The witness doesn’t seem very confident in the end result, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Walker passed around a copy of the photo.

  “It’s a male of Chinese ethnicity. Roughly mid to late twenties. It’s a pretty generic photo. There must a million Asian males that look similar to this. I had it run through our recognition software, but there were no relevant matches that came up in the database. At least, none at a reasonably high probability. But it’s a start.”

  “Thank you, Pernetta. Anybody else?”

  The question was met with silence.

  “As I mentioned earlier, we have a few more agents we’re moving in to assist us with this case, so there’s help on the way. Meantime, we need a search of all vessels moored in the bay or anywhere else in the New York area. Check the DMV, Coast Guard, Office of Parks and Recreation, the usual suspects. Divide and conquer. Also, keep knocking on doors in the neighborhoods where the abductions occurred. We have all available resources on this. If you need something, let me know and it will be done. Be sure to stay in touch with one another.”

  Rose dismissed them and they each filed out of the room in silence.

  Chapter 12

  Beijing, China

  Friday, January 30, 10:17 p.m. China Standard Time

  Leonard slipped through an obfuscated entrance along Luogu Alley in central Beijing. It was an entrance because it was the informal beginning of a series of hutongs, an area of the city with an ancient history that was reflected in its unique layout and architecture. It was obfuscated because the blending in of the hutongs made it difficult to determine where the hutong itself began and the rest of Beijing ended.

  The hutongs were constructed in an intricate, interlaced series of lanes, streets, and passageways that became, in some places, narrow enough for only a single person to pass through at a time. Within these intricate passageways, were gardens, ancient ruins, courtyards, and many shanties that served as both private residences and small, privately owned shops. In recent times, these ancient elements had been overlaid with touristy antique and souvenir shops.

  The further Leonard progressed, the smaller the streets became. Thus the main thoroughfare, which was roughly twenty-five to thirty feet wide, eventually gave way to smaller lanes, which seemed more crowded. Leonard wasn’t sure if this was because there were actually more people or because there was less space for them to maneuver.

  A few blocks in, he spotted a sign that said BLACK DRAGON in red and black characters hovering over a pair of black heavily dented double entry doors. He pushed through the doors and was greeted by a throng of businessmen clustered in small groups, gossiping and smoking cigarettes.

  At the front of the lobby, Leonard proceeded to the check-in in at the front, where he paid his entry fee into the gaming area. He showed his ticket to a pair of civilian guards at the entry point into the parlor, and they waved him through.

  Due to the amounts of money changing hands at some of the tables, gaming in the Black Dragon was not a casual affair. Leonard had discovered that mahjong was a game played by aligning tiles with numbers and symbols on them, similar to dominoes, but with strategic concepts more similar to certain card games. A constant rattling sound filled the room, the sound of the tiles clicking together. Occasionally, one of the tables would erupt into quick, intense bantering between competitors after a game had concluded.

  Leonard slipped quietly through another group of men dressed in business suits toward a handful of tables scattered throughout the room. A thin, ubiquitous fog of cigarette smoke hung in the air. One lone seat remained vacant at his table and, since all four seats were required to be occupied in order to begin a new game, he took a moment to study the room and its occupants. Leonard nodded a greeting to a young man sitting at his table opposite him. The man, who Leonard had played with previously, was one of the few in the room dressed semi-casually. He wore the same thing he’d always worn in previous games: a brown and blue striped button-down under a brown V-neck cotton sweater, a pair of brown twill slacks, brown leather shoes, and a brown cloth herringbone cap. The man was a proficient player and, Leonard knew, had won a lot of money in parlors throughout Beijing.

  The player to his left, an older man with disheveled gray hair, was dressed in formal black slacks and a white button-down. He’d removed his tie, unbuttoned the neck of his shirt, and slid the tie into the inner pocket of his coat. The old man extended his right hand toward Leonard, a faint smile playing across his face.

  “Hello, young man. My name’s Zhang Yimou,” the man said, in Mandarin.

  Leonard nodded. “Mr. Zhang.”

  “Are you a regular here?” the man asked. “I think I’ve seen you here before.”

  “Semi-regular.”

  The old man nodded, crossed his left leg over his right, and leaned into his chair, seemingly content to wait for the unknown fourth member. A few moments later, he reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a large, circular gold chain-linked watch, and studied it intently.

  The man turned to Leonard again, a smile playing across his face. “I hope we get our fourth player before long or I’m going to have to try one of the other rooms.”

  The Black Dragon was a large complex, but it was spread out in a cluster of fifteen or so smaller buildings situated somewhat randomly, but still relatively close to each other geographically within the larger hutong. Leonard had played in several of the rooms, and it was always a challenge, due to the intricacies of the hutong, navigating from one building to the next.

  “It usually doesn’t take long this time of day for the tables to fill,” Leonard offered.

  They waited in silence for a while longer. The young man in the herringbone cap remained silent, surfing the web on his smart phone.

  “So, Mr. Zhang, what brings you to the Black Dragon tonight?” Leonard asked. Leonard was always quick to invite conversation here, and he’d always been surprised how open the Dragon’s patrons were to his invitations. He suspected it had something to do with the fact that he was clearly a Westerner. People were as curious about him as Leonard was interested in them as potential agent recruits.

  “I just enjoy playing the game,” Zhang said. “It’s very conversational, don’t you think?”

  “I c
ouldn’t agree more,” Leonard said. Mahjong was a game where banter came easily. It’s why Leonard chose to come there so often, though his motivations were unique.

  “You’re a mahjong purist,” Leonard continued. “I thought you might be just another one of the drones in their business suits looking to take advantage of a working-class guy like myself.”

  Zhang smiled and seemed to glance down at himself, examining his suit. “Well, you’d be correct in your assumption that I’m a businessman. But I’m not here to hoodwink you, just beat you fair and square.” Zhang smiled a big smile. “I promise.”

  Leonard was thinking of his response when Xiăo suddenly appeared through the wooden doors of the little parlor room. He was dressed in his work attire: black pants, white dress shirt, black bow tie, and black dress socks and shoes. His pants were far too big and he, as always, had them rolled up at the ankles to avoid tripping over them. He had a wooden container hanging from his torso, attached to a carrier, with a pair of straps slung across his back.

  “Beverage, anyone?” Xiăo asked as he approached Leonard’s table. Xiăo caught Leonard’s gaze and gave him a knowing nod—Xiăo would be on the lookout for anyone at the parlor who might be performing surveillance on Leonard.

  The man in the herringbone hat waved Xiăo off, so the little guy strode around to Zhang, who accepted without hesitation. Xiăo retrieved a bottle of Chinese beer out of his case and a cigar from a compartment in his carrier and sat them on the table in front of Zhang. Leonard nodded again at Xiăo as Zhang handed over the money. Xiăo left the table but, Leonard knew, the boy would find his way to him periodically throughout the evening as he moved about from room to room.

  “May I ask which company you work for, Mr. Zhang?”

  “Certainly, Mr. Leonard. I’m an executive for the Beijing branch of Shanghai Digital Incorporated. We’re best known for our watches. Maybe you’ve heard of us?”

  “Oh yes, of course,” Leonard said. “High-end watches. I actually bought one of your multi-weather models for my bicycle excursions into the mountains. It’s a very nice watch. Very durable.”

  This was a lie, but it never hurt to flatter an executive. As Leonard finished this statement, a middle-aged man slid into the vacant seat. The game would begin, at last.

  Leonard kept a running conversation with Mr. Zhang throughout the game. He couldn’t think of any information an executive from a watch manufacturer might be able to share that would be useful to Leonard or his CIA bosses. However, as Leonard had learned, it never hurt to develop connections. In China, you never knew who might be in someone’s guanxi network.

  After a while, Leonard bid Mr. Zhang farewell and moved to another room. He did this repeatedly throughout the night, starting conversations with the intent of building relationships. At a quarter to one in the morning, the parlor was still busy. Wealthy patrons streamed in and out, moving, as he was, from game to game. Leonard had worked his way to a different part of the hutong when Xiăo entered silently into the room. Xiăo scratched at his neck near his bowtie, the cue for Leonard that Xiăo needed to speak with him.

  Xiăo swiftly left the room, but Leonard knew where to find him. Leonard excused himself temporarily from the game and left the parlor. He worked his way to the back of the parlor where the restrooms were located, but slipped out the back door. Under the light of a three-quarter moon, Leonard found Xiăo in a small alley, a thin sheath of sweat on his face from having to carry the beverages around all evening. A man dressed in a tuxedo and a woman in a black dress were standing in the same alley, but a block down. Leonard was unable to hear their conversation, and they appeared unaware of their presence.

  Leonard grinned. “You holding up okay having to haul that Tsingtao around everywhere?” Leonard asked. Leonard had seen him at work enough times to know that this was a task that Xiăo was not normally responsible for.

  Xiăo rolled his eyes. “This night is terrible. The beer is very heavy, but boss says there’s no one else to do it. Marko Chao didn’t make it to work today.”

  “Sorry about that,” Leonard said. “I’d help if I could.”

  “You could double my rate, just for tonight!” Xiăo said. “It wouldn’t be so hard if I didn’t have to follow you around all night!”

  Xiăo could be a hell of a negotiator when he wanted to be. “That may depend on what you can tell me,” Leonard said.

  The boy had finally had enough of carrying the beer. He lifted the case out of the carrier and placed it onto the ground. He sighed deeply. “That’s better.”

  “I see three people tonight.”

  “Let me guess,” Leonard said. “The middle-aged man with the blue sweater.”

  “Yes, definitely him.”

  “Who else?”

  “Have you seen the man in the business suit with the black briefcase?”

  Leonard shrugged. “They all have business suits on and briefcases.”

  “He’s the one who smokes the amber pipe. He’s got a white hand cloth folded in the front pocket of his suit coat.”

  Leonard thought back to earlier in the evening, but he couldn’t think of anyone matching that description. “No, don’t remember him.”

  “He’s been in and out of your rooms all through the night,” Xiăo said. “Always in and out really quickly.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Yes. There’s a third one.”

  “Who?”

  “The young woman in the purple dress. She’s been with Mr. Theo Bai, another one of your wealthy business-suit owners, all night long. At least, when she’s not dropping in on you.”

  Leonard thought he remembered this young woman. “Thin woman? Really pretty?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Very sure, Mr. Leonard.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll double your fee tonight, Xiăo. You can buy yourself a new carrier with it, maybe one with more padding for your shoulders. I can’t pay it out now, though. You’ll have to wait until our usual meet-up.”

  Xiăo nodded. “I understand, Mr. Leonard. Anything else I can do tonight?”

  “Go home and get some rest.”

  The boy shrugged his shoulders and dashed back into the hutong from which they’d come.

  Leonard waited a few moments before re-entering, and Xiăo was gone by the time he re-joined his game.

  Twenty minutes later the game ended and Leonard cashed out his meager winnings with an attendant who was manning a secured desk. He exited the parlor and slowly traced a path from his current position through a handful of other game rooms of varying sizes to the northernmost parlor room within the Black Dragon complex. He slipped out the back door and began a circuitous route through a series of tiny alleyways that led him further north into the hutong. He moved slowly and nonchalantly, as the purpose was to invite any of Shi Sun’s surveillance operatives to follow him.

  By the time he reached the end of the passages, he was sliding through a passageway so winding and narrow that it was accessible to only a single person at a time. After two or three minutes of sliding through sideways while shuffling his feet, he finally cleared out into a little courtyard. He dashed to the front entrance of a dual-level shanty situated adjacent to the courtyard on the opposite end to where he’d exited the passageway, and knocked on the door. An elderly man dressed comfortably in a pajama top, a pair of cotton slacks, and slippers appeared in the doorway.

  Leonard said, “Hello, Mr. Guo.”

  The man, as Leonard had predicted, was startled to see him there. It took a few moments for him to recognize Leonard and, when he did, he did not bother with a greeting. Leonard pulled out the equivalent of ten dollars in yuan notes and stepped forward. There were no further words between the two men as Guo took the money, and no further words were needed.

  Guo slipped the money into his pocket and led Leonard into the tiny home. It reminded him of the Lius’ home in north Beijing, as it was nearly identical in size and shape. G
uo’s wife and two young children were in the living area, sitting on a makeshift bed, and staring cautiously at Leonard as he passed by. Leonard followed Guo up to the second level via a wooden ladder, and Guo then watched him as he ascended a second ladder and slipped through a trapdoor onto the roof.

  On the roof, Leonard slid into a position lying on his stomach, retrieved a digital camera from his coat pocket, and trained it on the space where the passageway spilled into the courtyard. It was very dark outside, but the space on the roof was illuminated by a pair of lanterns.

  A couple of minutes later, his efforts were rewarded. A man in a black business suit entered into the courtyard, followed by the young woman in a long brown coat. The coat was too long to allow Leonard a view of her dress, but he was certain by examining her face and build that it was the same woman. He focused the camera on her feet and saw that she was wearing purple heels.

  Leonard assumed the unremarkable-looking man accompanying the woman was Theo Bai—a name he had never heard before— but he wondered how Xiăo had learned his name. The woman was saying something in a derogatory tone, her voice echoing throughout the courtyard. She seemed to be complaining about her feet after having to shuffle through the narrow passageway in her heels.

  The couple seemed to catch themselves, realizing that Leonard might be observing them. They lowered their voices and began walking casually through the courtyard, arm in arm, but not before Leonard had snapped a series of photos.

  Who was the woman in purple? Her presence was concerning to Leonard. Sun’s private surveillance operatives had always been men who, Leonard has assumed, were either current or ex-members of the People’s Liberation Army or one of the Beijing police units. The presence of a female operative suggested something more professional from an intelligence standpoint. Specifically, it suggested that Chinese state intelligence was involved. He’d need to get ID on the three as soon as possible, especially the young woman.