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“I know this one!” she called out to Knox as she continued to deliver a volley of blows to the man’s abdomen, reducing him to the fetal position. As the man sank, she searched his pockets and came up with a wallet.

“Overconfident fools,” she said.

“Know him, how?” Knox asked.

“Yang Cheng’s cocktail party.”

Knox got a closer look. She was right: the bodyguard type never far from the party host.

“Damn,” he said, impressed.

He got the scooter going and aimed for the street. Grace threw a leg over the seat and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and they were off.

WEDNESDAY

September 29
2 days until the ransom

12

6:20 A.M.

ZHABEI AND PUDONG DISTRICTS

SHANGHAI

The first pass amounted to a surveillance run. Knox drove with Grace directing him from behind while holding the GPS. He replayed Danner’s voice notes in his head and relayed them to Grace. Afterward, they killed an hour in Jing An Park awaiting the sunrise.

“I want you to keep this,” he said, passing her his copy of Danner’s hard drive. “Insurance. Also, we’re going to need a laptop. We need to study the contents of that drive A-SAP.”

She looked somewhat confused.

“As soon as possible,” he said.

“Is not a problem. Laptops are for sale on every block in Shanghai. And cheap.”

Knox laughed, and she followed, covering her mouth as if ashamed. Knox wanted to tell her to show her smile; he said nothing.

“Do you love her?” she asked.

He considered the question thoughtfully, and how to answer. “Do you know particle physics? You accelerate a proton or neutron and smash it and it gives off energy and breaks into smaller particles, which you then capture? That’s how I see love. I’ve experienced the breaking up thing, the energy. I’m still waiting for the capture.” He added, “Back at my place…it wasn’t what you think,” he said.

“You do not know what I think,” she said.

“We don’t control these things,” he said. “Do you understand? Some things control us.”

“I understand perfectly well.”

“What controls you?” he asked.

She snorted.

“The connection to Lu Hao’s family,” he speculated, having tried before.

She flashed him a penetrating look. “Lu Hao’s older brother is called Lu Jian.”

He waited her out.

“I was responsible for Lu Hao’s placement with Berthold.”

“You feel responsible. Tell me about Lu Jian.”

It was more than that. His comment drove her to silence. “I do not think so.”

“A romance.”

She didn’t deny it.

“Current or past?”

No answer.

“Or both,” he said. “That’s part of this for you.”

“There are family obligations.”

“Face.”

“What would you know of face?”

“My brother. I told you about him. Perception and reality are two very different things. Maybe I know more about face than you might expect.”

“I doubt it.”

“You’re hoping for a second chance,” he speculated. “You save the little brother, maybe you save the romance.”

She shot him a vicious look. But she didn’t deny it.

Not long after, the sky lightened and they returned to the scooter. Street traffic was sparse, though the corner bao shops teemed. The smell of charcoal and grilled pork filled the air.

The routes and destinations were more familiar to them now. Knox slowed the scooter as they neared the first location. Danner’s voice told him it was a childless couple in their forties. He pulled the scooter to the curb.

Grace jumped off the back and threw her helmet to him.

“You need to stay here!” she said in Mandarin, for the sake of the people passing on the sidewalk.

Knox did not want to make a scene. He knew any waiguoren-any American accent, no matter how good-would stand out. But he had no intention of standing by and leaving Grace alone.

He slipped off his helmet, pulled on a ball cap and hurried across the street chasing her.

“Foolish!” she said, refusing to look at him.

“The way we talked about,” he said. “The way I laid it out.”

Together, they hurried up the darkened exterior staircase to a second-floor balcony and around the corner to the second door from the street side of the apartment building. Knox put his back to the wall, out of sight of the door.

She knocked and a moment later the door came partially open.

“Wei?” a woman’s voice speaking Mandarin. Yes?

“I have the delivery you’ve been expecting,” Grace said.

The door swung open farther as the woman called out, “Laogong!” Husband.

The sound of shuffling slippers announced the husband’s arrival.

Grace threw open the door. Knox stepped through, shoving the unsuspecting man back. Grace shut the door. Knox drove the husband onto a stool that overturned as he fell, and Knox followed him to the floor on one knee. The room was sparsely decorated but well kept, with a tile floor and a low coffee table surrounded by wooden stools.

Knox spoke an angry, unforgiving Shanghainese. “I will tear your sack off your body, my friend, and give it to your wife as a souvenir.”

A plastic ID and lanyard landed on the floor next to Knox. Grace had tossed it to him, from a hook by the door.

“Steel inspector,” she said.

“The man who paid you-” Knox said.

His victim shook his head frantically shouting, “No good! No good!”

“We have come for him.”

“Bu xing!” The man backpedaled, trying to get Knox’s hand off his throat. Then: “I do not know!” Repeatedly. His face had gone the color of an old bruise; his eyes occupied a third of his face and were growing.

“You tell me now,” Knox said, reaching between the man’s legs, “or you piss blood for a week.”

The color in his face deepened.

“He paid you, my friend,” Knox said. “Do not lie to me!”

“I take the money! It is true. Each week, I take the money. For this I give favorable quality standard reports. May Buddha forgive me. I know nothing more than payment did not come this week. Nothing more, I tell you!”

“Enough!” Grace called out.

Knox released him and shot her a look that warned her not to interfere.

“And this week?” Knox asked the man. “Did you still give favorable report?”

The man flinched and recoiled as Knox lifted his hand toward him.

“I did not think so,” Knox said. He scooped up the man’s ID and pocketed it. “If you ever take so much as another fen for such a favor, your family will pay for generations.” Knox knew a threat to a man’s lineage was the most serious of all.

“I told you!” cried the wife. “I warned you nothing good came of such greed.” She, with both a new refrigerator and a dishwasher in her kitchen. Not even expats had dishwashers.

“Your phones,” Knox said to the man.

He glared back, puzzled.

“Both of your phones,” he said to the couple.

They produced them. Knox collected the SIM cards and crushed what remained.

He grabbed Grace by the arm and they backed out, pulling the door closed behind them.

“Walk calmly,” Knox said.

Grace was unfazed. Knox’s right hand was shaking.

“We might have handled that differently,” she said, accusingly.

“That’s how it’s going to be,” Knox said. “Exactly like that until we’re convinced the person’s telling the truth.”

“And if they know each other? If he should call ahead to warn the others?”

“That’s partly why I took the phones,” he said.

“I think you took the phones to look at who he calls, who he knows.”