Cradle and All

by Rebecca York

  He's in his late forties, I'd guess, from the length of time he's been

  prominent in the world arms market.

  But he looks younger.

  No gray in his hair.

  Probably he dyes it.

  "He's vain," Abby said.

  , 'I guess I didn't think about it that way.

  But you're right.

  For the next several hours, Abby quizzed Steve, and he did his best to

  supply her with information.

  Then, as they approached the city, he needed to concentrate on the

  route to the airport.

  Abby had arrived in India on a commercial airliner.

  Steve had flown the Learjet Jason's contact had provided.

  He'd already called ahead to the terminal, so making arrangements to

  take off took a relatively short time.

  Abby had never gone in for the jet-setting life-style of some of her

  parents' friends, but this was one time when she could appreciate the

  concept of flitting around the world at will.

  Still, even with a fast plane, it was a seven-hour trip from New Delhi

  to Hong Kong, with a stop in Bangkok for refueling.

  THEY AMIVED in the early evening.

  On the taxi ride from the airport, Steve leaned back wearily against

  the seat.

  "I know you must be beat," Abby sympathized.

  "It's been a long day."

  She'd been able to nap during part of the flight.

  Steve had driven the car and then piloted the plane.

  "I'll be okay."

  "As soon as we settle into our room, you can get some sleep."

  "We'll see.

  Instead of pressing him, Abby looked out the window at the unfamiliar

  Hong Kong landscape glowing richly in the red rays of the setting

  Sun.

  New Delhi was a crowded, bustling city, but it was, spread, out over

  mile after mile of cheap land.

  Hong'Kong was confined to a small island off the coast of mainland

  China.

  There was nowhere to build but up, so h_pge, modern, office and

  apartment buildings crowded in, upon each other with hardly a break in

  the skyline.

  Abby could picture the island sinking under their weight.

  Their hotel overlooked the harbor.

  Steve flopped onto the bed of their spacious suite and glanced at her

  apologetically.

  "You're sure you don't mind if I get a little sleep?"

  "I wish you would."

  "What about you?"

  "I'm too keyed up."

  She gestured toward the thick folder they'd picked up at the desk.

  "I'll look over the materials on Wu and mark anything that I think is

  interesting."

  'Okay.

  ' "Why don't you take a shower first? You'll be more comfortable."

  'Yeah.

  ' And you haven't eaten, either, she thought as he disappeared behind

  the closed door.

  When he emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later wearing a

  snow-white, terry-cloth robe provided by the hotel, Abby had ordered

  tea and sandwiches from room service.

  "Thanks," he said, picking up a triangle from the plate on the table.

  He finished it in a few bites and then ate the second.

  She saw his eyes go from the cup of tea in her hand to her breasts, and

  the pressure she'd been trying to ignore turned into pain.

  "You've, uh, switched from milk to tea," he said, his voice husky.

  "Raj and I were talking in the morning. Did he tell you it might not

  be a good idea to nurse Shannon?"

  "I'd already decided."

  "Abby, I'm sorry. I know how much you wanted to.) I She fought the

  tears gathering behind her eyes. The last tie to her daughter. Cut.

  Steve's hand covered her, and she turned her face into his shoulder.

  Neither one of them went back to the meal a,.

  Finally she reached for the confidential dossier on Wu.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to help you go through the material?"

  Steve asked.

  Abby looked at the deeply etched circles under his eyes, afraid he

  might insist on staying up.

  "No. You'll do a better job after you've gotten some rest."

  As he headed back to the bedroom, Abby settled down on the sofa to

  learn everything she could about Tang Wu.

  Someone in the US.

  intelligence service must have been collecting information on him for

  years, because Abby found an exhaustive account of his life-complete

  with details that could only have come from close observation.

  The written material was accompanied by a set of photographs that

  chronicled the man through the years.

  Tang Wu's father had been an associate of Nationalist Chinese leader

  Chiang Kai-shek as far back as his exile in Szechwan during the

  Japanese invasion in 1937.

  The family spent World War II in Chungking, where Tang was born in

  1948.

  But with the Communist takeover of the country in 1949, -the Wu family

  fled with other Nationalists to Taiwan.

  Tang had used his natural skills as a linguist to get a job with the

  foreign ministry, where he made contact .

  9

  with government and military leaders from around the world.

  While still working for the government, he began arranging arms deals,

  first with surplus World War II materials.

  But as the demand for more sophisticated weapons increased, he found

  new sources of supply-often among U.

  S.

  manufacturers.

  By the late seventies, when he resigned from the Nationalist Chinese

  foreign ministry, he was well established in Hong Kong as one of the

  world's chief arms brokers.

  For three hours, Abby read steadily through the dossier, feeling less

  and less optimistic the more she learned about the man's security

  arrangements.

  Steve was right.

  Wu's estate on the outskirts of town was guarded by what amounted to a

  private army.

  Doggedly, she went on to the more personal material, searching for

  signs that a man like Wu would respond to a heartfelt plea from a

  mother who wanted her daughter back.

  The more she read, however, the more she doubted that an appeal for

  compassion would work.

  Wu's relationship with his wife had been cold.

  In fact, he seemed to harbor the traditional Chinese attitude toward

  women.

  He would see an infant daughter as of little value-except as a future

  pawn in a marriage alliance.

  When she got to the last section of the report, she wondered who had

  provided the information, since the text was replete with all sorts of

  personal data that would only be known to one of Wu's intimates-or a

  servant.

  bby found out which brand of tooth gel the man used, which cigars he

  liked, his favorite foods, and the fact that he considered the diamond

  ring he'd inherited from his grandfather a special good luck charm.

  There was also information on his sexual proclivities.

  The latter material reminded her of case studies she'd run across in

  abnormal psychology books.

  As she read, she unconsciously wrinkled her nose as if an unpleasant

  odor were slowly seeping under the door.

  A suggestion of movement from across the room made her eyes flick away<
br />
  from the page.

  Steve was studying her from the bedroom doorway.

  She studied him back.

  The hotel robe was the same, but now he looked rested.

  "That's quite an expression on your face," he commented.

  135

  She pursed her lips.

  "I'm afraid I don't like Mr. Wu very much."

  "I gather."

  Abby rolled her shoulders, regretting that she'd been sitting in the

  same position for hours.

  "Have you been working all this time?"

  'Yes.

  ' He came over, sat down beside her and closed the folder that lay open

  in her lap.

  "Why don't we trade places. You sleep, and I'll catch up on the

  reading."

  As soon as Steve made the suggestion, Abby realized bow weary she

  was.

  At the same time, she was bursting to share her new insights.

  "I have an idea about how to get to Wu," she ventured.

  Steve picked up the folder and laid it on the coffee table.

  "I-et me read the material first. Then I'll be able to comment."

  Abby dragged in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  She knew he was right.

  What she was going to propose would sound too outrageous' if Steve

  hadn't read the dossier.

  Chapter Nine

  "Did you finish the dossier?"

  Abby asked as they sat eating breakfast the next morning.

  "Yeah."

  "Then I guess we'd better talk about Tang Wu-" :,I've been speculating

  on what you're going to say.

  'Oh?

  "You think you know when Wu is most vulnerableAnd you have some scheme

  for getting close to- him."

  Abby's teacup clattered against the saucer.

  "He's most vulnerable when he's visiting the fancy bordellos that cater

  to his sexual tastes. He's relaxed. He's had a few drinks. And he

  leaves his guards outside. He's not expecting trouble."

  Steve nodded.

  "The place is owned by a woman who calls herself Madame Pearl. I know

  her."

  "You do?"

  Abby leaned forward, suddenly curious.

  "How well do you know her?"

  ,She was a client of mine a few years ago, not the other way around.

  "What did you do for her?"

  "Brought in cases of alcoholic beverages and fancy gourmet items that

  are expensive to buy here. Pearl likes to be known for her lavish

  hospitality as much as her sexual services."

  "How often did you help her out?" Steve shrugged." I had a standing

  Order, and I filled it whenever I flew into Hong Kong.

  But, of course, I haven't seen her since I came back to Baltimore.

  "You parted on good terms?", " Yes.

  I guess she even owes me a couple of favors.

  "So would she tell you when Wu is expected? Better yet, would she

  contact him and tell him she has a new girl she knows he'll like?"

  Steve looked thoughtful.

  "She might. But what happens afterward? When Wu figures out she set

  him up? What keeps him from going after her?"

  Abby was prepared for the question.

  "He's vain, remember? And the Asian concept of saving face is deeply

  ingrained in his makeup. Not only that, if he wants to stay in a

  business where he's selling his contacts as much as anything else, he

  has to rotect his p reputation.

  He won't tell anyone he walked into a trap.

  And you can make it clear that if he takes any kind of revenge on

  Madame Pearl, @ you'll let clients know why every one of his Steve set

  down his fork.

  "Okay. I'll concede those Points. But I'm not going to let bait.

  That's what you have in mid you use Yourself as d, isn't it?

  Abby flushed.

  "You think I'm going to let you go upstairs alone in a brothel with a

  man like Tang Wu?"

  " You'll follow us.

  You'll come in befoe anything happens.

  She saw him swallow and went on quickly before he could fix the Picture

  of her and Wu alone in a bedroom firmly in his mind.

  "I know you,re thinking that we could use a woman who already works

  there to act as lure. But it would have to be somebody newsomeone he

  hadn@t seen . And more than that, it would have to be a woman who

  won't give anything away by her facial expression. You can't count on

  a prostitute to maintain the deception that everything is perfectly

  normal. You can count on me."

  "Oh, yeah, right. Normal for whom?"

  "You know what I mean. I'm a trained psychologist. I don't give my

  private thoughts away to my patients. And that's what he'll be like to

  me. Only I'm not going to give him the kind of treatment he's

  anticipating."

  "You gave your thoughts away to me when you were reading about him,"

  Steve shot back.

  "Because I wasn't trying to guard them. I didn't realize you were

  standing in the bedroom doorway looking at me."

  Abby sighed.

  "Steve, stop arguing with me.

  You know we're going to end up doing it this way, because we don't have

  any choice.

  His sigh matched hers.

  "Call Madame Pearl and tell her you're back in town-and that you want

  to bring someone over to meet her."

  "What about Amarjit's warning to keep our dealings secret?"

  "I don't think the Lion of Punjab and the Tart Queen of Hong Kong move

  in the same circles."

  Steve laughed.

  "I'll bet you've been waiting for hours to deliver that line."

  'Yeah.

  ' He shook his head and reached for the telephone.

  "You still remember Madame Pearl's number?"

  Abby asked.

  "No. But I have a contact in town who will know it."

  "IT'S GooD To SEE You again, Steve, " Madame Pearl said as she swept

  into the tastefully furnished living room of her establishment.

  She was tall, thin, well-dressed and elegantlooking-probably of

  Eurasian heritage, Abby decided as they eyed each other cautiously.

  "Yes. And I'd like you to meet my wife."

  "Ah. It's seldom that I meet a man's wife."

  "We have a rather complicated problem," Steve began.

  "Don't be shy about confiding in me. There's nothing I haven't heard

  before, and almost nothing that we can't arrange here."

  Madame Pearl smiled encouragingly as she took a seat opposite them.

  Abby glanced at Steve's flushed face and saw that he wasn't sure how to

  respond, so she jumped into the conversation.

  "I know that you've seen and heard almost everything, but maybe there

  are still some things that shock you. Would you be shocked to hear

  that our baby was stolen from the'hbspital six days ago and is being

  held by East Indian rebels? Or that we have less than six days left in

  Which to.pay the ransom? After that, they're going to kill -'our

  daughter-our only child-unless we give them what they want."

  Abby saw the stunned look in Madame Pearl's eyes an went on quickly.

  "The rebels aren't holding us up for money. It would be easy if they

  were, because we'd pay anything they asked to get Shannon back."

  Abby's voice cracked, and she had to pause for several seconds.

  "What they want is a weapon Steve's former partner, Oliver Gibbs, was

  supposed to deliver to them.<
br />
  They couldn't threaten Oliver because he's dead.

  Which also means he can't give us any advice.

  So there's only one place we can turn for information-to the man who

  arranged the sale, Tang Wu.