The Chairman's Toys

by Graham Reed

  Wendy and Barb said nothing. I waited patiently, hoping they would come up with a way to refute my bleak assessment of our chances.

  The silence stretched on until I broke it myself. “The only way this is going to work is if I get the documents and make copies of them. I’ll leave those with you as an insurance policy against any lingering homicidal intentions Mickey Wu may have.”

  “Good thinking.” Barb gave me two thumbs up. “Which brings us back to the question of how you’re going to get them.”

  I marinated my tongue with a sip of liquid courage before telling them my idea. “I know a guy who makes fake IDs.”

  Wendy exchanged a look with Barb and grabbed my phone from the coffee table. “You really think the bank is going to believe your name is…” She squinted at the screen. “Zhang Tao?”

  “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy.”

  “I’d settle for something within the realm of possibility,” Wendy muttered.

  Barb tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe Jake’s onto something here.”

  Wendy and I looked over at her in surprise.

  “I am?” I asked cautiously.

  Barb nodded. “Obviously, the idea is half-baked, but that’s to be expected, coming from you.”

  It might’ve been because she was the only one of us not drinking tequila, but I somehow found her derision more comforting than her support. I listened attentively.

  “It could work,” Barb continued. “If the fake ID really is a good one?” She gave me a searching look.

  I waved it off. “The best.”

  Barb’s look searched a little longer before she nodded. “In that case, all we need is a Chinese man.”

  It was nice to see Barb get a helping of Wendy’s withering incredulity for a change. “Do you have one handy?” she asked.

  “Well…no,” Barb replied.

  “Who we can convince, coerce, or manipulate into committing fraud for us?” Wendy added.

  Barb’s cheeks reddened. “I’m only trying help.”

  I was loath to derail their exchange, since it had all the signs of a tiff in the making, but Barb’s rather obvious point had broadened my own view of the situation. Too long a pawn in all of this, I had failed to look at the whole board when trying to devise a strategy for getting our queens back.

  “I do.”

  Wendy glanced over at me irritably. “You do what?”

  “I have a Chinese man handy. Two, actually.” Secret Agents Wang and Chung had much to recommend them, so I did. “These guys are perfect for the job. They share the same profession, tailor, and inclination to operate outside of the law as the dearly departed. If anyone can pass for him, it’s one of them.”

  Barb smiled and extended her hand toward me, palm up, as if she was introducing the keynote speaker at a maritime law conference. “There you go.”

  Wendy ignored her. “Who are these guys?”

  “Agents from the Chinese Ministry of Public Security. Just like the dead guy.”

  Barb withdrew here hand. “And you know them how?” She asked in a way that suggested she was preparing to endure the lame punchline to an ill-timed joke.

  “Had ’em over for coffee the other day,” I replied, nonchalantly.

  Wendy grinned and shook her head. “You move in strange circles, Constable.”

  “Hold on a minute. Not everyone suffers from your utter lack of moral fibre.” Barb’s voice was taut with misplaced collegial outrage. “What makes you think you can convince government representatives to commit a criminal act?”

  I shrugged. “Because they already tried to convince me to commit one.”

  Barb spluttered with indignation but Wendy listened attentively while I explained how Li Wei and the gang had tried to coerce me into letting them into Mickey Wu’s house.

  “So you could offer them a quid pro quo,” she summarized when I was finished.

  “Exactly. If they help us get what’s in the safety deposit box, I’ll help them get into Mickey Wu’s house.”

  Wendy frowned. “But they’re colleagues of the dead guy.”

  “Yup. But these guys want to arrest Mickey Wu, not blackmail him.”

  She waved away this distinction. “Aren’t they going to take a keen professional interest in the contents of the safety deposit box when they find out it belonged to Zhang Tao? If he was using those documents to blackmail Mickey Wu, that must mean that the Ministry of Public Security wants them.”

  “Good point. It’s a safe bet that they’ll be disinclined to part with them once they get their hands on them. Which would put us back at square one, with no leverage and nothing to trade for Richard and Dante.” I slumped back into my seat to ruminate on this.

  “Maybe you can get the documents away from them before they know what they’ve got,” Barb suggested, her mind apparently back in the game despite the evident disapproval that continued to sour her expression.

  “But they’ll know they’ve got something important as soon as they find out the documents belonged to Zhang Tao,” Wendy said.

  “So don’t tell them. A field agent should only be given the minimum necessary information required to complete the mission at hand.” Barb’s shrug conveyed a casual but compelling authority. “Basic operational parameters for any chain-of-command organization.”

  “Whoever I get to do this is going to have to know whose name he was signing eventually, but I could probably delay telling them until we arrived at the bank.” I was dismayed to find myself looking to Barb for approval.

  She nodded. “If you can accomplish that, you might be able to get the documents away from them before they have a chance to look at them. If these guys are well-trained and disciplined, they will exit the operational theatre before attempting information-analysis.”

  “You mean they’ll get the hell out of the bank before looking at the documents?” I asked.

  “Affirmative.”

  As our eyes met, Barb and I shared a brief but unmistakable moment of mutual respect. I resisted a sudden urge to salute her by reaching for my drink instead. “That’s a pretty small window of opportunity. Provided there’s only one of them, and I went into the safety deposit box room with him, I suppose I might be able to grab the documents. But Agents Wang and Chung are going to want to see them at some point.”

  “Maybe you could swap in something else in place of the real documents,” Wendy suggested.

  I grinned. “This is great. I’ve always wanted to pull off a heist. If it works out, maybe for our next caper we can steal a priceless statuette with an ancient curse on it.”

  Wendy and Barb exchanged a look, which was better than an outright “no.”

  “The fakes would have to be something pretty compelling, if they’re going to believe that their colleague was blackmailing Mickey Wu with them.”

  I raised a finger. “Now that you mention it, they aren’t currently aware that he was blackmailing Mickey Wu. I’m pretty sure that all they know at this point is that Zhang Tao is MIA.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Barb. “Once you mention their colleague, all that is going to have to come out. Maybe not while you’re at the bank. But you can bet they’re going to want answers the minute you’re out of there.”

  I very much wanted to disagree with Barb, if only as a matter of policy. But there was no way around the fact that she was right. “Okay, then, what can I possibly swap in to throw Agents Wang and Chung off the scent?”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  “Pornography.”

  Barb looked over at me disapprovingly.

  “What? She said it, not me,” I protested, pointing at Wendy.

  “Yes, but you don’t have to look so happy about it,” Barb retorted.

  “I’m just pleased that she’s offering up some ideas. All you seem to do is criticize.”<
br />
  “Quit sniping, both of you,” Wendy cut in. “Can we please focus on my idea, since it’s the only one on the table.”

  “Pornography,” I prompted helpfully.

  Barb looked over at me disapprovingly.

  “Exactly. It’s perfect,” said Wendy.

  “I totally agree.”

  “Oh, really? And why is that?” Barb snapped, still staring at me.

  Wendy looked at me inquiringly.

  “I don’t want to steal your thunder,” I said graciously. “Go ahead and explain it to Barb.”

  “It’s simple, really. Can you imagine anything more awkward and embarrassing than looking at porn with your banker? Or with Jake, for that matter?”

  I chose to ignore Barb’s unladylike guffaw.

  “So if Agent Wang does decide to take a peek at the documents,” Wendy continued, “one look at a nice, glossy 8x10 beaver shot should put an end to his inquisitive inclinations in a hurry. All Jake needs is a manila envelope full of nudie pics. The more amateurish the better.”

  “Check his pockets.” Barb yawned and checked her watch. “I am totally beat, and unlike you two I have a real job to get up for in the morning, so I’m going to bed.”

  When my glass was finally empty, I stood up and placed it on the coffee table. Wendy was stretched out on the sofa, eyes shut. I paused to admire the elegant curve of her hip visible in the gap between her t-shirt and her jeans before reaching down to gently take her glass and place it beside my own. Unable to find any blankets, I brushed the pizza crumbs off the cloth from the dining room table and spread it over her.

  I was halfway out the door when she spoke. “We have to get them back, Jake.”

  “We will.” I tried my best to make hope sound like confidence.

  Wendy nodded without opening her eyes. “Good night.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  The minute I turned my phone on the next morning, it began convulsing from a barrage of messages from the second recipient of my pre-yachting text. There was little variation in the repetitive imperative that had forced me to turn it off the night before so I could get some sleep.

  call me

  call me asap

  call me!!

  call me dammit

  call me call me call me

  In my weakened, pre-coffee state, I caved and dialed.

  “Hey, Nina,” I croaked. My throat felt like I had downed an entire cactus the night before, rather than just a half bottle of tequila.

  “You asshole!”

  “I’ll survive, thanks for asking. How are you?”

  “Didn’t you get my texts?”

  “Yup, I got, let’s see...” I took the phone away from my ear just as Nina served up another helping of profanity. “Nine of them.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you call me last night?”

  “Didn’t you get my text? I went out to Mickey Wu’s boat. I didn’t get home until really late.”

  “Oh, is that right? Because Mickey Wu got home at ten-thirty p.m.”

  I sat up in bed. “Is he still there?”

  “No. According to Agent Chung, he left almost immediately in some kind of monster truck driven by some kind of monster. So you could have let my uncle’s agents into the house last night after all.”

  I had little doubt that the “monster” was The Norwegian. They must have taken the Zodiac back to Mickey Wu’s waterfront mansion. But if they didn’t stay, it was a solid bet that Dante and Richard weren’t there, either. I wondered where they might have gone. And whether Mickey Wu had enjoyed Dimmu Borgir. My guess was that symphonic black metal probably wasn’t his thing, but people can sometimes surprise you.

  “My uncle is furious with you.”

  “Furious enough to make you call the cops?”

  Silence. Followed by the right answer. “No.”

  I yawned expansively. “Good. In that case, you can tell him I’m ready to help him out now. I’ll come by your office in an hour to discuss the details.”

  “That’s great, Jake. Thank you. This really is important to my uncle. And to me.” The enthusiasm in her voice bothered me. Maybe because she had a very different tone, and attitude, when discussing my criminal tendencies in the past. “So we’ll…”

  “And I didn’t find Richard and Dante. In case you were wondering.”

  I hung up without finding out if she had been.

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  I was beginning to miss Li Wei’s scowl. At the moment he was smiling at me. Or a bit constipated. Possibly both. His upper lip remained stiff as Tupperware but the lower one sagged like a hammock to reveal a row of dental stalactites eroded far beyond the restorative powers of Colgate. At least his onyx eyes hadn’t lost their sparkle. The man did have nice eyes. But I suspected that nothing that mouth did was ever going to make me happy.

  “I will help you,” it said.

  Instead of gratitude, I only felt hungover. Or maybe it was the company I was keeping, rather than the noble agave plant, that was to blame for my nauseous state.

  I averted my eyes from Li Wei’s rictus of pleasure to take in the far more attractive features of his niece. Nina was also busily avoiding eye contact with her uncle. She did so by staring at her desk, where he was sitting. It was an oval expanse of red-tinted glass set atop chrome legs in the form of Xs. Li Wei drummed his manicured nails on its surface.

  Tick, tick, tick, tick… Tick, tick, tick, tick… Tick, tick, tick, tick…

  I tried to stop myself from going squirrelly by focusing on the office art, but it was office-art bland. I stared out the expansive windows, but the view of the expansive parking lot made the art look good. I considered dropping down to do a few push-ups on the wall-matching seafoam green carpet, but its off-gassing was worse than Li Wei’s.

  Defeated, I scowled at his claws with annoyance. They were of a distinctly feminine length, which explained the noise, and as worn and cracked as his chompers. The desktop, on the other hand, was crack-free.

  I frowned at Nina. “Did you get a new desk?”

  Her cheeks coloured as she met my gaze. “Yes.”

  She flashed me a hot-chilly smile. “I couldn’t keep the old one, Jake. It wasn’t safe.”

  I stared at her until she looked away. The crack in her old desk had been a meaningful faultline in our seismically active past. It had occurred during, or possibly slightly before, Nina’s orgasm the last time I was in her office, several eons ago.

  Li Wei yanked me back to the present, and further away from his niece. “When is your appointment at the bank?”

  It took me a second to recall why he cared—Agent Wang would be coming with me. After which, I would accompany him to Mickey Wu’s house, in the vicinity of which Agent Chung apparently continued to lurk. I would let them in, using Mickey Wu’s door and alarm codes so they could do whatever it was they were planning—search it, trash it, even throw another party, for all I cared.

  “Haven’t made one yet,” I replied, my mind back on who wanted to screw me now. “I need to get a fake ID first.”

  Agent Wang steepled his hands, tapping the tips of his fingers together rapidly. “Mickey Wu hasn’t yet returned home yet, but he could at anytime. Mr. Constable may not be ready to proceed, but we are. I suggest we search Wu’s house first, and deal with Mr. Constable’s problem afterwards.”

  He was looking at Li Wei as he spoke, but I was damn sure going to have the final word on this. I knew there was zero chance of Agent Wang risking his ass if they didn’t need me anymore. “No way. I’m not helping you until you’ve helped me.”

  Li Wei and Agent Wang proceeded to have a rapid exchange in Mandarin, after which Li Wei nodded. Agent Wang looked over at me. “Would one of your provincial driver’s licences suffice as identification?”

  Agent Wang had finally dropped the ingra
tiating smile, which made me suspect he was serious. I shrugged. “Yup, should.”

  The smile reappeared. “It can be ready in an hour. What name should be on it?”

  Until that moment things had been coming together so nicely. When I had first mentioned the safety deposit box, Li Wei and Agent Wang had surprised me by not even asking whose it was. All that seemed to matter to them was that I would get them into Mickey Wu’s house. Our mutual lack of interest in each other’s nefarious doings had suited all parties perfectly. But now this.

  Agent Wang was leaning over Nina’s desk, pen poised over paper. Nina and Li Wei were staring at me expectantly, one might even say impatiently.

  “Zhang Tao,” I mumbled at last. There was no backing out now. My mind was racing to come up with a possible explanation for why I wanted to break into a safety deposit box belonging to a missing agent from the Chinese Ministry of Public Security.

  Could I convince them that I was a deep cover Chinese sleeper agent auditing the Ministry’s operational efficiencies? Unlikely. Maybe I could say I was doing an end run around them to liberate my friends while simultaneously luring Mickey Wu into the open to entangle him in a well-documented web of illegal activities so Agents Wang and Chung could swoop in and heroically bring him to justice and salvage the Ministry’s reputation in the wake of a blackmail scandal involving one of its agents. It sounded a bit farfetched, but seemed like my best chance at bringing this thing home.

  “Z... H... A... N... G... T... A... O. Is that correct, Mr. Constable?” Agent Wang asked without looking up.

  Li Wei and Nina were conversing quietly in Mandarin, ignoring us both.

  Dumbfounded, I scanned and verified their disinterest. “Uh...yeah. Yes, that’s correct.”

  Agent Wang nodded. “I’ll need to see a copy of the signature.”

  “Hold on.” I pulled up the photo of Zhang Tao’s ID on my phone, slowly putting a few more pieces together as I did. Zhang Tao’s licence had to be as fake as the one Agent Wang was about to produce. As fake as the name Zhang Tao.