by Graeme Hall
Susan took a small rubber wedge from her bag and used it to jam closed the door to the corridor. It wouldn’t be enough to stop it from opening, but on the off-chance someone wanted to come through it would at least give her a moment’s warning. Turning her attention to the fire escape, she was encouraged to find it was a standard design; a simple push-bar linked to a single vertical rod locked the door in place. Susan pressed on the bar to release the rod and then pushed the door open a few inches. Looking through the gap, she checked that, as she thought, the door opened onto the external staircase that led down to the rear garden. She allowed the door to close again while keeping the push-bar in the unlocked position. From a distance everything looked normal. If anybody looked closely they would see the door wasn’t locked, but Susan had to hope that nobody checked the fire escape that frequently. The cockroaches suggested that this was not an unreasonable hope. Anyway, it didn’t have to be for long. After retrieving her rubber wedge, she headed back to Kwok-wah.
‘You okay?’ he asked. ‘You’ve been a while.’
‘It always takes us girls longer, y’know. Just one of those mysteries that men will never understand. Come on, let’s get going.’
***
This time it was later when Susan left the dorm, and her room-mates were all sleeping. One of them was snoring, and together with the sound of heavy rain this helped mask any noise Susan made. With the rain it was darker than before and she took a moment to allow her eyes to adjust and to calm her nerves. She’d done this kind of thing countless times in training, but this was the first time for real, where the stakes were more than just a rap on the knuckles from her instructors. She could have done without the rain. It had started earlier in the evening when she was sharing an ice cream with Kwok-wah, but now it seemed like a bad omen and only increased her anxiety, even though the rational part of her knew the rain would be a help; for a start, it would reduce the chance of her encountering anyone else.
Susan retraced the route she took previously. This time there were no shadows to hide in, but there were no signs of any patrols either. She stopped to check on the guards at the computer science department. The same two. One of them was reading a magazine while the other had his head down on the table either asleep or drunk. Again Susan worked her way round to the rear, making a better job than before of finding her way through the vegetation. She took a moment to check that nobody was around. From the back of the building she could see a light in one of the rooms on the second floor. Susan watched for a while but there was no sign of anyone or any suggestion of movement in the room; the light must have been left on by accident, at least she hoped so, but as a precaution she made a mental note of where that room was.
She climbed the fire escape to the first floor and tried the fire door. This was the first critical moment. The first thing not under her control. If the door had been locked again then she was stuck with no alternative plan. The door opened. She slipped inside, stopping the door from swinging shut behind her and allowing it to close gently. Quietly. She stood on the stairwell landing where she had been only a few hours ago. It hadn’t been so frightening then. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark, to allow her breath to quieten and her heart to relax. She listened for human sounds. The sound of rain made it difficult to be certain, but there was nothing obvious. Standing still Susan felt the rainwater dripping off her onto the floor, and she realised her trainers were muddy from the wet ground. Damn, she thought, knowing she mustn’t leave an obvious trail of footprints, grateful at least that she’d noticed in time. That would have been a rookie mistake. She looked for somewhere to put her shoes where they wouldn’t be seen in the unlikely event that someone should come this way. Nowhere seemed suitable so she had no choice other than to open the fire escape door again and leave the shoes outside. Great, I’ll have soaking wet feet later.
She climbed the stairs to the next floor and stood by the door to the corridor and listened. Nothing. She opened the door a couple of inches and looked through the narrow gap. Nothing. She listened again. Still nothing. As confident as she could be that nobody was around, but not feeling confident at all, Susan opened the door fully and stepped out into the corridor, again taking care to stop the door from banging shut behind her. Light was spilling out from one office further down the corridor, the room she had seen from outside, but she realised that thankfully she didn’t have to go past the light. Instead she turned right and made her way towards Kwok-wah’s room in her stockinged feet. There was less light here and she laughed to herself as she wished she’d asked him to leave a light on for her. She did have a torch but decided against using it. Her previous visits to the department were paying dividends; she knew the layout of the floor as well as anyone and found Professor Ye’s office with no difficulty.
Susan tried the door just in case (You never know) but it was indeed locked, so she took out the copied stolen keys from her pocket. Most were obviously the wrong type at a glance, but there were still several candidates. I’m screwed if none of these work. The fourth key worked, the lock turned and she opened the door and went in, closing the door behind her. She didn’t dare turn on a light but this time she did use her torch. The window had a blind that she drew closed to be on the safe side, though she knew the guards couldn’t see the window from their room. She looked around. It was much as she had expected from Kwok-wah’s description. Shelves of textbooks, piles of papers on every spare surface. There was a computer, which she considered turning on, but doing so would make more noise than she was happy with and, anyway, surely Professor Ye of all people would have set a password. The computer would be her last resort.
The desk drawers turned out to be unlocked and Susan quickly went through them finding nothing of interest, except in one drawer where she found a pornographic magazine and a photograph of a familiar looking young woman; a woman who was not the one in the silver-framed wedding photograph that sat on the desk. Interesting. Something to come back to later perhaps. Finished with the desk, she turned to the two filing cabinets in the corner of the room, which seemed to be more likely prospects. They were both locked and none of her keys were the right type. Obviously Professor Ye didn’t trust his secretary with these cabinets, a fact that encouraged her, but they were only standard commercial filing cabinets; she learnt how to pick those in her first month of training and within five minutes they were both open.
Susan pulled out folders to examine. What am I looking for? She didn’t really know. Not exactly, anyway. She hoped it would be one of those things that jumped out at her when she saw it. The first files she looked at turned out to be research papers, some that had been published, others still in preparation, but there was nothing out of the ordinary in any of them. She knew more about Professor Ye’s work than Kwok-wah could have imagined, possibly even more than Kwok-wah himself. There were files on each of his students. She skimmed through most of them but looked more closely at the one on Kwok-wah. It didn’t tell Susan anything she didn’t already know, but she was interested to read Professor Ye’s comments that academically Kwok-wah was nothing special but that ‘a friend in Hong Kong may be useful one day’.
While Susan examined folder after folder, one part of her was still on alert and she stopped when she heard footsteps in the corridor outside the office. She turned off her torch and stood still. She hoped the sound of her heart beating was not as loud the other side of the door as it was in her ears. The footsteps came closer but then receded. Based on previous observations she knew she’d have at least an hour before the guard did another round. Plenty of time. Hopefully.
In the end, it took her another forty minutes to find what she was looking for. An unmarked folder of correspondence, technical proposals, procurement requests. She took out a small camera, turned on the desk lamp (No choice) and speed read the papers as she photographed them. She didn’t understand every detail, some of the technical language in Chinese was beyond her, but enough to get the gist. When she finished she
replaced the folder and decided she had time to return to the photograph in the desk drawer. Why was the face so familiar? It had been bothering her. Susan was sure she should know who it was. Looking at the picture again it still took a moment before recognition kicked in; the woman was a well-known news anchor on Shanghai TV, in her mid-twenties and a regular on the celebrity circuit. Very interesting. Also in the drawer was a black appointment diary that Susan had missed the first time. On an impulse, she decided to take it with her, figuring it would be thought lost rather than stolen.
Time to leave. Susan took a last look round the office in case she has missed anything, but nothing else seemed remarkable. It was time to make a move but the guard hadn’t yet been back on his round (He must be due soon surely?) so Susan decided to wait until she has heard him pass. A wise decision, as it was only a couple of minutes before there were footsteps. Once more they came closer before fading into the distance. When all was quiet again she looked around the office one last time, making sure everything was left as it was, and then left, remembering to lock the door behind her.
Susan made her way back to the stairwell and saw that the room where the light had been was now in darkness. Did the guard turn it off or had someone been there? She hurried down the one flight of stairs to the fire escape only to find that the door was closed with the bolt in place. Shit. That wasn’t supposed to have happened. Not part of the plan at all. Adrenalin took over and her heart began to race. She stopped for a moment, knowing this was when she needed to be in control of her emotions. Calm down, Susan. There’s no sign of anybody around. She pushed the bar down to unlock the door again and slowly, very carefully, she pushed the door open while saying a silent prayer as she did so. To her relief there was nobody on the other side and her shoes were where she left them. What are the odds of someone, just now – in the middle of the night – noticing that the fire escape wasn’t closed properly? The answer didn’t really matter, she was where she was and there was nothing she could do about it now.
It was still raining. She put on her shoes and in her fear didn’t notice how wet they were.
Chapter 15
‘Can I come round tonight?’ Emma had rung Sam the Sunday morning after getting back from Sydney. ‘We need to talk. At least, I need to talk. Somewhere private.’
Sam had been surprised when she called him; he was far from sure she would. Following that night at the Fringe Club he had lost himself in work, spending most of his time in the office. Kate had taken him for lunch the Saturday immediately after, but she had a date of her own that night. His emotions were all over the place and they included more than a little anger. He wasn’t proud of that but the Fringe Club had been, or at least should have been, a special night, and it had been ruined. Above all, though, his dominant feeling was one of complete confusion. He went over all the conversations he’d had with Emma, trying to remember anything he might have said to upset her. Or for that matter anything he hadn’t said but should have. Nothing stood out. Nothing at all.
I’m just so alone. Sam could still hear those words and the desperate tone they’d been said in, but he was no closer to making any sense of them. Emma seemed to have plenty of friends. He knew she had split with her fiancé before coming to Hong Kong, but that was two and a bit years ago. Was she really still thinking of him? Sam and Emma may only have been dating for a few weeks, but the way Emma had kissed him after that Italian in SoHo surely meant something?
They agreed she would come round that evening for dinner. Sam spent the morning tidying the flat to make it presentable, wishing for once that he had a maid. In the afternoon he went shopping to get the ingredients for lasagne; one of the few things he could cook really well – his signature dish. He found the preparation therapeutic and listened to Coltrane while he worked; making the roux and the béchamel took his mind off worrying about what Emma wanted to talk about. He couldn’t imagine it was going to be anything good. He remembered being dumped in London. As the evening approached he lit some candles, and then the doorbell rang.
Emma looked tired. He’d even go as far as to say weary, more than simply the effects of the flight. He would be the first to admit he wasn’t the most empathetic of people, but even to him it was as if she had the troubles of the world on her shoulders. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and Sam could see she was using her hearing aid, something he knew she only did when necessary, and then usually only in private, rarely in public. Seeing her like that Sam felt his anger evaporating. Tonight she was a combination of highly desirable and vulnerable at the same time.
‘Hi Sam. Are you going to invite me in?’
Sam realised he had been standing silently like an idiot, momentarily lost for words. ‘Of course, sorry, come in.’
‘Something smells good.’
‘Lasagne. I hope that’s okay?’
‘Of course. A man who can cook, I’m impressed.’ Emma looked around. ‘And a man who can clean.’
Emma shook off her shoes before making herself comfortable on the couch, while Sam poured a couple of glasses of wine.
‘How was Sydney?’ he asked.
Emma ignored his question. ‘How long until dinner is ready?’
‘Thirty minutes or so. Are you hungry?’
‘No, it’s not that, I’d like to talk to you before we eat. Explain things. Apologise. We’ll enjoy the evening more when I get this off my chest.’
‘It’s only lasagne, it can keep warm if necessary.’ Sam sat down next to her. He was still confused but her words were promising. Perhaps things were going to be okay after all. Emma had some of her wine and then put the glass down and turned to face Sam.
‘First of all I have to apologise for the Fringe Club. You were terrific, I let you down.’
‘I’m sure …’ Sam started to say before Emma stopped him.
‘Please, Sam, let me say my bit. Hopefully you’ll understand then. You asked me once about my family, I think it was that time in Tai Mei Tuk after we’d been hiking. You asked about brothers or sisters and I said that I didn’t have any. That was true but not the whole story. I did have a brother, an older brother, but he was killed.’ Sam started to speak but again Emma stopped him. ‘Please. This is difficult for me to talk about. He – Peter – was killed in a hit-and-run in Wan Chai back in 1992.’ Emma paused and took another sip of wine.
‘Was anybody caught?’
‘Yes, and jailed, and I thought that was the end of it, and until recently it was.’ Emma told Sam the full story: her suspicions, what she had learnt and why she had gone to Sydney.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Sam when Emma had finished. ‘What are you going to do now?’
‘I have no idea. I seem to be at a dead end. It may be there’s nothing more I can do. I need to think about that some more, but I needed to tell you this. It was time I told you. Well if I’m honest with myself, I guess I should have told you before. I’m sorry now I didn’t. Really sorry.’
‘You and Peter must have been very close?’
‘Very. I don’t think I could explain just how close. The thing is, Peter also played the saxophone, and it sounds stupid but hearing you play at the Fringe just brought everything flooding back.’
‘I wish you’d told me this before.’
‘I know. Like I said, I should have, I’m really sorry, but it’s not something I find easy to talk about. Most of my friends don’t know. I can’t explain why, I don’t really understand it myself, but it’s something I prefer to keep quiet about. Perhaps I don’t want to be pitied or felt sorry for. I don’t know.’
‘So when you said you were lonely and you missed him, you were talking about Peter? Not your fiancé?’
‘Mike?!’ Emma laughed in surprise. ‘Certainly not. You didn’t think I meant him, did you?’
‘Well …’
‘But do you understand now? It still doesn’t excuse my behaviour, nothing does, but does it sort of explain it? You must have hated me.’
�
�Hate, no. Upset, yes, and confused. I couldn’t work it out. I thought there must have been something I’d said or done, or not done. Now I’m not sure quite what to think. I’m relieved it wasn’t me – well, more than just relieved, but I can’t be too happy knowing what you’ve been through and … I’m perhaps also a little upset that you didn’t think you could tell me this?’
‘If I could turn the clock back, I would. I can’t explain it.’
‘Come here.’
Emma moved closer and Sam took her in his arms. They kissed, uncertainly at first and not quite in sync as they rediscovered each other, and then with increasing abandon as Emma lay back and Sam plucked up the courage to let a hand find its way under her dress.
‘You’re not quite as shy as I thought you were,’ said Emma. ‘Does this mean I’m forgiven?’
‘Nothing to forgive.’ They kissed again until Sam realised the curtains weren’t drawn and they were putting on a performance for the world to see. ‘I should close the curtains,’ he said.
***
Emma stood over the road from the Xinhua building in Wan Chai. There was a nominative irony that the de facto communist embassy was located on Queen’s Road East opposite the Queen Elizabeth Stadium. The weather was cool for March and she held a small umbrella to shield her from the light drizzle that had started to fall. The building itself was completely unremarkable and there was nothing to distinguish it from any other office building other than the discreet nameplate by the door. It would be easy to imagine that it was the head office of a small trading company. Perhaps a business that imported cheap household goods from China before sending them round the world.
Emma wasn’t completely sure what she was doing there. She didn’t know what she hoped to achieve, but talking it over with Sam the night before it was the only thing they could think of. The trail led to Xinhua so she had to follow it, but now she was there, standing across the road on a damp Monday morning, second thoughts and doubts were not just creeping in; they were shouting at her to turn round and go home. Forget this obsession; concentrate on enjoying the here and now, her future with Sam. And what if Brian Lo was right? Would she be in danger if she pursued this any further? Sam had offered to come with her but Emma felt a single woman was less suspicious. She was glad she had explained everything to him last night, that she had someone she could trust and confide in, relieved he hadn’t sounded sceptical or doubtful. She didn’t understand why she hadn’t told him before; why she insisted on keeping everything to herself. She certainly wasn’t doing herself any favours that way. Perhaps it was something she could work on changing.