Rafferty thinks, Introductions over. Forcing his mind to focus only on what he needs to do in this instant, he goes back to the trunk and lifts the suitcase out, holding it flat. He turns it carefully so the hinges are against his chest and Chu will be able to open it and see the money. To Ping he says, “Let’s go.”
He follows the man into the rain.
The bars of light on the asphalt again, the now-familiar landscape of looming warehouse walls, black sky, falling rain. Slowly the form of Chu emerges, shapeless and dark at first, then slender and almost frail, with the wind and rain lashing at him. Chu watches them approach, perfectly still except for the bottom of his slicker blowing around his legs.
Rafferty stops three feet away, lifts the suitcase an inch or two, someone presenting an infant to a priest. “Noi,” he says.
Chu takes a step forward.
“Uh-uh,” Rafferty says. “I see her first.”
Chu raises two fingers to his lips, inserts them, and lets loose an earsplitting whistle. Two people come around the far corner of Warehouse One. Rafferty keeps his eyes glued to Chu’s until they are close enough to see clearly, and Chu raises a hand to stop them.
The thin cop, Sriyat, with Noi on his arm. She is bent in agony, one hand thrown up over her shoulder to hold her neck. Something kindles low in Rafferty’s stomach.
“Your turn,” Chu says.
Rafferty raises the top of the suitcase all the way, and Chu says, “Bring it.”
When Rafferty has covered the space between them, Chu reaches into the suitcase and shoves aside the top few inches of loose bills, pulling out the ones beneath. Rafferty tries to keep his exhalation silent. He anticipated this. The real money, some of it wrapped, but quite a bit of it loose, is buried beneath a stratum of the laundered counterfeit bills. Chu rummages through the loose bills and removes five or six stacks, weighing them in his hands and then flipping through them, making sure there’s nothing there except what should be there: no newsprint trimmed to size, no small bills slipped in among the big ones. He drops the packets and says, “More,” and reaches this time completely through the top layers of money to bring up the stuff on the bottom, all of which is counterfeit. To Rafferty it still seems breathtakingly false, the color, despite all his efforts, too uniform, the edges too clean and straight. He smells the back-of-the-throat sweetness of fabric softener, but the wind is blowing toward him. A bright hair scrunchie, the color of a tangerine, circles the top stack in Chu’s hand. Chu gives it a glance and a bemused snap, then drops it back into the suitcase.
Rafferty lowers the lid and puts the suitcase at Chu’s feet. “I’ll take her now.”
Chu says, “Certainly.” He waves Sriyat forward. They move slowly, Noi taking tiny steps as Rafferty’s heart pounds angry fists on the inside of his chest. Hoping Fon is in position, he turns to gesture her to them and sees her, arms crossed and shoulders hunched against the cold, halfway to the end of the building. As she nears them, Chu registers her. He looks at her analytically and then brings his eyes, ancient and unsurprisable, to Rafferty. “You must have more charm than you’ve shown me,” he says.
“Can the chat,” Rafferty says. “Noi’s got to lie down and get dry.”
Fon is at his arm by now, returning Chu’s interested appraisal with the kind of disdain that could freeze a bar customer at thirty feet. She is covered in goose bumps but not shivering, and Rafferty knows she is denying Chu any pleasure, however small, she can withhold. He wants to kiss her.
“Go with her, Noi,” Rafferty says. “It’s almost over.”
“Poke,” Noi says. Her voice is sandpaper on silk. “Is Arthit here?”
“Not yet,” Rafferty says, surprised by the sudden spark in Chu’s eyes, feeling that there’s something wrong about it. He pushes it aside, forcing himself to stay focused on this moment, this exchange, the need to get Noi around the corner of that building and into that car. “We brought you some painkillers,” he says.
“Arthit and I love you,” Noi says in the same frayed voice, all strain and tendons. “Miaow and Rose are fine.” Fon puts a sheltering arm around her and leads her slowly into the rain. Sriyat gives the suitcase a curious glance, puts one hand above his eyes to keep the rain out, and retreats, back the way he came.
Chu says, “One down.” He is watching Fon’s rear end. “If only I were younger.”
“That would be nice,” Rafferty says. “Maybe someone could kill you before you get to this point.”
“There is no reason for this business to be any more unpleasant than necessary. We both want the same thing.”
“Rose, now,” Rafferty says.
Chu says, “Rubies.”
Rafferty doesn’t even look back this time, just raises a hand and brings it down again. Chu leans forward and says, “This one is prettier.”
“If you want to see her up close, get Rose out here.”
“Rose,” Chu says. “Unusual name for a Thai girl.”
Rafferty raises his hand again, the sign for Lek to stop. “Colonel Chu. As you say, I have to do business with you, but I don’t have to make small talk with you.”
“You’re mistaken, laowai. If I want to chat with you, you’ll chat with me. If I want you to hop up and down on one leg and do birdcalls, you’ll do that, too.” He leans forward, close enough for Rafferty to smell the cigarettes on his breath. “You can walk away when we’re done. Until then you do as I say.”
Rafferty can’t look at him, can’t let the man see his eyes. “Speech over?”
“If I choose it to be.”
“And do you choose it to be?”
“For the moment.” He whistles again. Rafferty is powerless to keep his head down. He strains to see past Colonel Chu, to see through the rain. To catch a glimpse of Rose.
“She’s coming,” Chu says. “It’s interesting. You have no feeling at all for one family, but you’ll put your life on the line for the other one.”
“What do you want, Chu? Do you want me to agree that it’s interesting? Okay, it’s interesting. It’s fucking fascinating. A lot more fascinating than this conversation. Can we get on with it?”
“Occasionally,” Chu says, “I think it’s too interesting.”
“I chose one family,” Rafferty says. “I was stuck with the other one.”
“Mmmm,” Chu says. “Here she is.”
Sriyat has both hands around Rose’s upper arm, but she pulls it away and gives him a look that, Rafferty thinks, should dissolve him where he stands. Rafferty signals for Lek to come the rest of the way. “Your goddamn rubies,” he says.
“Not all of them,” Chu says. “Some of them will be yours soon.” He watches Lek come. When she starts to hand Rafferty the box, he snaps his fingers, and she looks up, confused. “To me,” Chu says.
“When Rose is here,” Rafferty says.
Lek steps back, the box clutched to her bare stomach. Unlike Fon, she is shivering. And then Rose says, “Hello, Poke,” as though she’s just come back from an hour at the library, and a band around Rafferty’s chest breaks, and he throws his arms around her.
They hold each other for the space of a dozen heartbeats, and then Rose disengages herself and says, “Miaow.” She kisses Rafferty on the cheek and looks beyond him and says, “Hi, Lek.” Lek smiles like a lighthouse in the rain, gives Rafferty the box without a glance at Chu’s outstretched arms, and holds out a hand to Rose.
“Let’s get you dry,” Lek says. “In fact, let’s get both of us dry.” The two women turn and move off, toward the car at the far end.
Rafferty hands Chu the open box, and Chu reaches straight to the bottom and pulls out the envelope. He opens it and thumbs through the papers, then slips it into the pocket of his slicker. His eyes come up to Rafferty’s. Rafferty is trying to look surprised at the envelope.
“A detail,” Chu says. “Nothing important.” He is running his fingers through the rubies. Cupping the box against his body with his left arm, he reaches inside the slicker with his right, and Rafferty puts a hand on his hip, as close to the gun as he can get it without giving it away, but Chu comes out with a jeweler’s loupe and a small flashlight. He screws the loupe into his right eye, flicks on the light, and examines half a dozen stones, taking his time. Then he removes the loupe, drops it into the box, and says, “I’ll do you the honor of not counting them.” He puts his left hand back under the box.