“The Chinese are going to fight, all right,” Cole shot back. “They’re going to do their share of bleeding.”
“Okay,” Jake Grafton said.
When Cole calmed down, he asked, “Did Callie listen to the tape that Carmellini brought her?”
“Yes.”
“All of it.”
“She said she did.”
“Who knew about the tape?”
“Carmellini, and whoever he told. He brought us a special player and earphones to listen to the thing. I presume he got them out of the closet here at the consulate.”
Tiger Cole took a deep breath. “Let’s make some assumptions, see where they take us. Let’s assume that whoever grabbed Callie is interested in the contents of that tape.”
Jake Grafton nodded.
“We know China Bob was taking money from the PLA to give to American politicians,” Cole continued. “And we know he wasn’t passing all of it along. The PLA has figured this out, too, but I fail to see why they would care what was on that tape. If a PLA officer killed China Bob, he wouldn’t care if the American government knew it. The Chinese government doesn’t care. Oh, Beijing might be embarrassed about the congressional revelations, but the government really doesn’t care. Do you understand me?”
“I guess.”
“For these people, Beijing is the center of the universe. What the Americans think or don’t think is as important as the shape of the craters on the back side of the moon.”
“Okay.”
“The only reason the PLA would want the tape is because there’s something on it that threatens them. If they knew about the revolutionaries, they wouldn’t need the tape. Do you agree?”
“I’m listening.”
“That leaves someone else Chan dealt with. Not me, because it’s too late for you or anyone else to stop the train. The danger to the revolution is past.”
“I accept that for now,” Grafton said. “If the shit hits the fan tomorrow. If it doesn’t…”
“The tape would be of value only to someone who doesn’t know the timetable, someone who thinks that he can sell the information that’s on it or use it for blackmail. He’s assuming that the world he knows is still going to be there, otherwise the tape has no value.”
Jake took the tape from his pocket and placed it on Cole’s desk. “Do you have anybody who could translate this for me?”
“Yes. Kerry Kent.”
“Is she in the building?”
“Yes.” He pushed the button on the intercom and said his secretary’s name. “Is Mr. Carmellini waiting out there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please have him go to the CIA office and ask Ms. Kent to come see me.”
When he released the intercom button, Cole told Grafton, “She’s a British SIS agent on a foreign assignment. She works here.”
“Do you want the Brits to hear this?”
“I don’t think she’ll pass it along to London.”
“Think or know?”
“She’s Wu Tai Kwong’s girlfriend.”
“I’m not going to sit here for six hours while she listens to the tape. Gimme your best guess. Who snatched Callie?”
“The first possibility that pops into my head is a local gangster named Sonny Wong. I have reason to believe that people in this building are feeding him information, maybe even selling him passports.”
“Do you know who these people are?”
“Suspicion only.”
“What else is Wong into?”
“His primary occupation is smuggling: refugees, dope, diamonds, guns, whatever will earn a buck.”
“Where do I find this star of the social register?”
“You need to see a man named Rip Buckingham. He’s a friend of mine. I’ll give you his address. We won’t call because the telephones might be tapped, but I’ll write a note for you to take with you. Go over to his house.”
“Does he know about the plan for revolution?”
“Yes.”
“He’s one of the inner circle?”
“Yes.”
“What does he know?”
“As few of the specifics of my business as possible. Like all good conspirators, we compartmentalize all we can, just in case. Obviously he knows details that I don’t. He’s as familiar with the big picture as I am, of course.”
Jake Grafton could sit still no longer. He walked to the window and back, rubbing his hands. “I need a weapon, a pistol. Got one you could loan me?”
Cole hiked a foot up on his lower desk drawer, pulled up a trouser leg, and pulled down his sock. He was wearing an ankle holster. “It’s a five-shot Smith and Wesson thirty-eight with a two-inch barrel,” he said as he unstrapped the holster. “The police will get real pissy if they catch you toting it around. About all it’s good for is shooting yourself.”
“Would you have done that if they arrested you?” Jake murmured.
“Hell no. I’ve got diplomatic immunity,” Cole said.
“Is immunity bulletproof?”
“Nope. Which is why I carried the pistol.”
Cole was writing down Rip Buckingham’s address on a Post-it when the intercom buzzed. The secretary’s voice came through the box. “Sir, Mr. Carmellini is back with Ms. Kent. And there is a call from a Mr. Wong. He says he has something that might be of interest to you.”
Cole looked up and met the unblinking gray eyes of Jake Grafton.
“Send Carmellini and Kent in,” he told the box, “and I’ll take the call.” When Carmellini and Kent were seated beside Jake Grafton, Cole pushed the speaker button on the telephone.
“Cole.”
“Mr. Cole, my name is Sonny Wong. I don’t think we have ever formally met, but you may have heard someone mention my name.” Wong spoke decent English, but the accent was unmistakable.
“I have indeed heard your name.”
“I have come into the possession of several items you may wish to redeem, Mr. Cole. One is an American lady named Grafton.”
CHAPTER NINE
The color drained from Jake Grafton’s face as Tiger Cole said, “I’m listening.”
“You may remember our mutual friend, China Bob Chan? It seems that a tape recording was made in his library the evening he died.”
Wong paused. Cole said nothing. Kerry Kent looked at Tommy Carmellini, who kept his gaze fixed on the telephone.
“Still there, Mr. Cole?”
“Yes.”
“This lady has listened to the tape. I don’t have the tape, mind you, just the woman. She heard you shoot China Bob, Mr. Cole.”
“So?”
“You have diplomatic immunity in China, but the American State Department might take a dim view of murder. Conceivably, the American government could waive your immunity and turn you over to the Chinese for trial. A federal indictment in the United States is more probable. This woman could put you in prison for the rest of your life.”
“I’m still listening.”
“The other item I have is even more marketable. Amazingly, with the entire resources of the Chinese government devoted to the search for public enemy Wu Tai Kwong, I have managed to apprehend the criminal.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“I think the authorities would be very interested in both of my prizes, Mr. Cole. As you know, they have offered a very tempting reward for Wu. I propose to sell both these people to you or to the Chinese government. Think it over.”
“You son of a bitch! Who are you trying to bullshit? Sun will throw you in the same hole he’s got waiting for Wu. If Wu won’t talk, I will.”
Sonny chuckled. “You underestimate the gratitude that will overflow Sun’s hard little heart if I produce Wu Tai Kwong. Waving Wu’s head in Beijing will make Sun’s fortune — the bastard may wind up as our next premier.”