He heard Dulwich’s labored breathing. That comment had gotten his adrenaline pumping. “I can have Primer ask Marquardt about any Mongolians, any blackmail or extortion that predated the kidnapping, but I’ve got to think he would have volunteered that. We’re working for him, after all.”
Knox said, “The Mongolians beat the shit out of the delivery guy who left the ransom.”
“You do work quickly.”
“Their whole focus appears to be finding Lu. I don’t see them behind this. More like ‘way behind,’ like we are.”
“If they’re proxies for the Chinese, you’re fucked. Those boys will take you behind the shed and put one between your eyes.”
“Thanks for that.”
“I need you to make a second copy of Danny’s hard drive,” Dulwich said. “I need my tech guys here to get a look at that.”
“Maybe the GPS and Danny’s voice notes get us around needing Lu Hao’s records.”
“You have names? Amounts?”
Knox didn’t answer.
Dulwich said, “Stay focused, Knox. Those books remain the brass ring.”
“I thought getting them out alive was the brass ring.”
“I’m just saying.”
“And I’m not liking what you’re saying.” The Berthold Group being more concerned with creating a cover-up than winning extraction made corporate sense. “Am I supposed to read between the lines, Sarge?”
“There are no lines. The priority is human life,” Dulwich confirmed. “That hasn’t changed.”
“If it does, I’m out. I’m solo.”
“No argument from me.”
“I wouldn’t suggest overnighting the hard drive.”
“No.”
“Or sending it electronically.”
“No. We’ll put a courier in place.”
“I thought you couldn’t put people in place over here.”
No immediate response. Then, “We need that drive today,” Dulwich said. “We need to move the ransom’s USD in-country. Marquardt doesn’t have access to that kind of U.S. cash. You take care of your shit, I’ll handle mine.”
“If I’m giving this drive to someone, make it someone I know by sight. Send me a picture or something.”
“Don’t go all Pierce Brosnan on me.”
“Daniel Craig. You gotta keep up.”
“Fuck you.” The line went dead.
Knox rode the scooter out onto Changle Lu and took as many precautions against tails as possible.
Twenty minutes later, he’d made the five-minute ride.
As he eased the guesthouse’s back door closed, he heard the steady murmur of voices, the fill of background music and the clinking of glasses and tableware. He decided to bring a beer to his room. He would dress, and drive the GPS’s bookmarked route as an intelligence gathering before doing so with Grace in a few hours.
He passed into the tiny dining and bar area. An off-the-shoulder raw silk blouse caught his attention. Amy Xue nursed a kir, her back to him. He approached and paused behind her.
“Join me,” she said, patting the stool beside her. They met eyes in the bar mirror.
Knox slid onto the stool and ordered a beer.
“You have words with accountant?” she said in Mandarin.
“A slight misunderstanding,” he said, also in Mandarin. So the ruse had fooled even Amy, he thought.
She switched to English. “I worry for you, John Knox. You snooping around.”
“Who said I’m snooping?”
“You have money problems, you should say something.”
“No money problems.”
“If you need extension of credit, why did you not ask your friend?”
“Am I missing something?” he said. “Why would I need an extension of credit?”
“I ask myself same thing.”
The Chinese could never face a request or a favor head-on. It always went around the block before arriving at the destination, or a middleman was used to save face for both sides.
“This has to do with my payment?”
“Yes, of course. I do not charge my friend interest,” she said, “no matter that it is within my rights.”
Interest? “Why would I owe you interest?” Knox asked, taking the more American route.
“You have spoken to your brother?” she asked.
What did Tommy have to do with this? Do not involve Tommy! “About?”
“John,” she said, “last payment not received. I do not charge interest for valued customer.”
It took Knox a moment. “Our last payment?”
“If you need more time, this can be negotiated.”
“That was months ago.”
“Two months, sixteen days,” she said.
“You didn’t get the wire? You should have said something.”
“I am saying something. Did not receive wire transfer of funds. Did not receive any funds.”
“You should have said something sooner. We issued payment, Amy. A wire transfer to your bank in Hong Kong, same as always. My brother…” Evelyn, their bookkeeper, never made such mistakes. Tommy, maybe. It wasn’t impossible, given his condition, but it wasn’t likely. “I’ll look into it immediately.”
“You are a good customer, John Knox. Favored customer.” Amy considered every customer her best customer, but there was something more that she wasn’t bringing up. Still, it hung between them. “You miss a payment, not a problem. But when you did not mention it tonight…well, this is not like you. Not like a most valued customer.”
“We paid,” he said.
“And the wire cleared?” she asked.
“I’ll talk to my brother and my bookkeeper. Please forgive this failure, Amy. This dishonors me greatly.” Contrition was an important part of business relationships with the Chinese.
“You can make it up to me,” she said, coyly. “Show me interest, not pay it.”
“No shortage of interest.”
Knox wrote GRAND CATHAY in block letters on the bar napkin-the name of his room. He pinched it beneath the base of her Champagne glass. Amy kissed him and slipped off the bar, taking precautions in a city where the rumor mill spun faster than a turbine.
Having left the guesthouse by the front door, she circled around to the back door and joined him in the guestroom. Joined him without a word spoken between them. Joined him in a sweaty, athletic indulgence that ended with her straddling him, their eyes locked, their shared rhythm near perfect, their needs fulfilled.
“Sometimes I wish I still smoked,” she said, lying on her back.
“Oh, you smoke,” Knox said. And she hit him.
Knox rose up onto an elbow to enjoy the look of her. He could see her heart beating quickly at the V of her ribcage.
“If a body could be put into words,” he said, “yours would be poetry.”
Her smile widened. “Silver tongue, cold heart.”
He took her hand and placed it on his chest. “Does it feel cold to you?”
She shook her head, still smiling, and staring at the ceiling fan. “It is an expression is all.” She hesitated. “I am worried for you.”
He turned on the television and cranked the volume. He trusted Fay not to bug his room, but believed in taking precautions. “No worries,” he said softly.
The iPhone rang. He scrambled to get to it and then considered not answering it. But he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah?”
“Who do you think you are?” Grace’s shrill voice caused Knox to distance the phone from his ear. He moved away from the bed and made a face to indicate his surprise. “I will tell you: a common thief. A liar. A cheat. Worse than alclass="underline" a man whose word cannot be trusted.”
“Listen to me a minute,” Knox pleaded.
“The GPS is the key to our success. We are partners. And yet you steal it from me. Steal it! A common thief! You delay our efforts. You cost me panic and fear when I cannot find it. How dare you treat me with such disrespect!”
“If you would just…listen.”
The line went dead.
“What have you gotten yourself into?” Amy asked.
“An unhappy customer,” he said, returning to her.
“You see? You have problem with customer, too.”
“It’s true.” He’d known Amy long enough to believe he could trust her, though trust was more of a concept here than a practice. Together they’d bent enough export laws to hold weight over the other.