The King of Shanghai (25 page)

( 35 )

The limo was a Mercedes-Benz S-Class, the same as Sonny’s and Xu’s, and the driver also wore a black suit with a white shirt and black tie. But unlike Sonny, he kept up a steady stream of chatter, and Ava finally had to ask him to stop so she could take time to think. She had to plan the pitch she wanted to make to Lam. She opened her notebook, turned to the back, and began to list options. She was still adding and subtracting ideas when the driver said, “There’s the Huangpu Bridge.”

The Mercedes passed over the Pearl River, continued to speed along a four-lane highway, and then exited sharply onto another. Ava lifted her head from time to time to note that development in Huangpu was as rapid as in the rest of China. The car slowed and began to make its way down Kaifa Avenue, which had a mix of low-rise shops, restaurants, and office buildings. The only tall building in sight loomed on the left, and that was where the driver took them.

The Pearl Dreams Hotel was twenty storeys of grey concrete, glass, and aluminum sheathing. The driveway was packed with late-model German and Japanese luxury cars, and the Mercedes was forced to stop well short of the entrance. Ava thought about getting out and walking the rest of the way, and then decided to wait. She didn’t want to appear too eager or look too rushed. So wait she did until the Mercedes was directly in front of the entrance.

“This has been charged to my room?” she said to the driver.

“Yes, miss.”

“Thanks, and this is for you,” she said, passing him an HK thousand-dollar note.

She walked through the revolving doors into the lobby. The concierge was on the right and a carpeted strip ran directly down the middle of the tiled floor towards the elevators. On the left was a sitting area with leather chairs and sofas and glass coffee tables. Towards the rear of this lounge, next to the elevators, Ava saw Sonny. He was sitting in a chair facing in her direction. Across from him she saw the backs of the ponytailed heads of two men.

Ava started to walk across the lobby towards Sonny, but she hadn’t gone more than ten steps before he saw her and leapt from the chair. He moved quickly towards her, his right arm extended. “Hey, we should go right upstairs. They gave me the room number when I said you were on your way,” he said.

As they walked past the sitting area, the two men on the sofa stood and moved in behind them. They made Ava uncomfortable, and she threw a questioning glance at Sonny.

“They’re my shadows, not yours. Don’t worry about them,” he said.

The four of them rode the elevator to the seventeenth floor and walked down the hallway to a corner suite. Sonny knocked. Ava heard voices from inside and the shuffling of furniture. When the door opened, its frame was filled by a man who was as broad as Sammy Wing and several inches taller. When he stepped aside, Ava saw Uncle Fong sitting at a round table set against the window. Across from him stood another man. She paused, expecting Fong to greet her, but he didn’t move. Ava took two steps inside the room and stopped. The negotiations had already begun.

She watched as Uncle Fong struggled to his feet, his hands pressing down on the table for support. At one time he had been close to six feet tall, but he was in his eighties now and the years had shrunk him. He looked so frail that Ava wondered how he walked without a cane. She clasped his hands with both of hers and then kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Thank you for all of this,” she whispered.

“For you, anything,” he said.

Fong was a contemporary of Uncle not only in age but also in the lives they’d led. Like Uncle, he had fled China as a young man and joined a Triad society to secure some kind of future. He didn’t start out working with or for Uncle, but by the time he was in his forties he had joined the Fanling society, which Uncle headed. Ava wasn’t certain when he had retired — he had been retired for as long as she had known him — but she did know that he was dependent on Uncle financially, a dependency that had been passed on to her. When she had asked Uncle how Fong came to be in that situation, he’d shrugged and said, “He was convinced there was a system that could beat the roulette tables in Macau. He spent most of his adult life proving himself wrong.”

“Will you introduce me to Mr. Lam?” she asked.

Fong turned and signalled with a flick of his finger for Lam to come over. Ava was startled by the apparently rude gesture, but Lam simply nodded and came towards them.

He was tall, thin, and wiry and had long hair. He was in his mid-forties to early fifties, she guessed, but when he moved she saw that he was supple, lithe even, and there was strength in that slender body. His long, narrow face was just starting to show age, in lines at the corners of his eyes and a slight sag along his jawline. His hair was white, combed back and tied in a ponytail. Some strands hung loose on the right side of his face, giving him an almost boyish look, a look that was accentuated by a pair of round blue-tinted wire-framed glasses. He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt, black jeans, and a pair of Ferragamo loafers. In his own way he was as unlikely a Triad as Xu, she thought.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Ava said before he had reached her.

“Do you remember me?” he asked, extending his hand.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“I was at Uncle’s funeral, so this is our second encounter.”

“I don’t remember much about that day.”

“Uncle was a great man, and Fong here was as good a Straw Sandal as ever I’ve met — something he’s just proved again today.”

“I owe him my gratitude.”

“Maybe we both will by the time the day is over,” Lam said, his face solemn. “Why don’t we sit by the window.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Ava said.

“And I’d like everyone else to leave,” Lam said to the other men, who were still standing near the door. As they started to back out of the room, Uncle Fong hesitated. Lam touched him lightly on the arm. “That means you too, I’m afraid. You’ve done your job. Now Ms. Lee and I need to talk alone.”

“I’ll wait for you downstairs with Sonny,” Fong said to Ava.

“Please. And don’t leave without me.”

Lam motioned to Ava, and she took the seat that Uncle Fong had vacated.

“Tea or water?” Lam said. “Or I can order whatever you want from room service.”

“Water is fine.”

He poured her a glass and then one for himself. “I have to say that I was surprised when Fong called and asked to meet with me.”

“I understand.”

“He was quite vague about the reasons, although he did drop some interesting hints. I didn’t put much stock in those hints, I must say.”

“So why did you agree to meet with him?”

“Out of respect mainly. When Uncle was still running Fanling, we did some joint ventures together and Fong was the go-between. He is an honourable man, and I couldn’t imagine he would want a meeting for frivolous reasons. I just didn’t think it really had anything to do with the war between Wing and Xu, which is what he was implying.”

“And why did you think that?”

“Because what could that possibly have to do with us?”

Ava ran her finger down the side of the glass, her eyes moving between the water and Lam’s face. She looked for telltale signs of tension, for any clue that he was lying. He didn’t know that she knew about Ko. “If that’s the case, why did you agree to meet with me?”

“I could say that I was simply curious, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. I mean, I can’t deny there are issues between Guangzhou and Shanghai, and Fong made it clear that’s what you want to discuss.”

“Issues like Xu controlling the supply of software and various devices?”

“Yes.”

“And the fact that Li and Xu are both contesting the chairmanship?”

“Yes.”

“Then of course you know that Xu was wounded in an attack that was designed to kill him. You must have some interest in his condition, in his ability to defend his turf.”

Lam’s right hand reached for the strand of hair that hung loose. He stroked it, and for a second he reminded Ava of Clark Po. “From what I’ve heard, Sammy Wing has paid dearly for his rashness,” he said. “I can also assure you that there was no doubt about Xu’s strength either before or after the attack. He has a formidable force.”

“Wing must have known that as well, so why did he try to kill Xu?”

“You would have to ask Sammy that question.”

“Maybe he thought if he lopped off the head, the body would obey.”

“Ask Sammy.”

“I did. He said the attack on Xu was for the benefit of Li.”

Lam smiled, but his eyes narrowed. “Ms. Lee —”

“Call me Ava.”

He nodded. “And I’m Ban. Ava, I don’t believe Wing said anything of the sort.”

“And if he did it was a lie?”

“If you wish to insist that he said it was for Li, well then, yes, it was a lie.”

“So how do you explain Ko?” she said.

His immediate response was to speak, but he caught his words before they were fully formed. Slowly he sat back in the chair, his eyes not leaving her face.

“He tried to kill me in London, more than a year ago now. I recognized him, of course, when I saw him at the restaurant in Shenzhen,” she said. “You never quite forget the face of a man who’s tried to kill you. Sammy Wing told me Ko was freelancing, but when I pushed him, he admitted that Ko was still working for Li, and so was at least one of the other men who tried to kill Xu and me. So, you know, that’s twice your boss has tried to kill me. I have no idea what I’ve done to offend him.”

Lam poured himself another glass of water. As he drank, his eyes wandered to the Pearl River below. “I know you don’t remember me, but do you remember meeting Li at Uncle’s funeral?”

“No.”

“He was quite taken with you. He told me that in London you fended off Ko and another one of our men even though you were unarmed. He was convinced that Uncle was sleeping with you. He thought he might take a run at you himself if the opportunity came.”

“Instead he tried to kill me.”

He smiled. “Tell me, if you and Xu have assumed that Li was somehow involved in the attack in Shenzhen, why did you only go after Sammy Wing?”

“It’s early days.”

“Bullshit,” he said. “And speaking of bullshit, it’s just occurred to me that I’m sitting here talking to you based on the assumption that you speak for Xu. The only backing for that claim is Uncle Fong.”

“Do you know Suen?” Ava said.

“Of course.”

“And Lop?”

“No, though I’ve heard of him.”

“Do you have a phone number for either of them?”

“Suen.”

“I’ll leave the room and you can call him. When I come back, I want an apology.”

He shook his head and smiled again. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to help me avoid a war.”

“What makes you think there’s going to be one?”

“As things stand, it’s inevitable.”

“Why?”

“Li has tried to kill Xu at least once, and I think more than once. In any event, once is enough, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would if you could prove it.”

“Let’s not do that dance again.”

“Okay, we’ll leave it alone.”

“Then we have the fact that Wing was fighting to get Li the chairmanship and was willing to participate in the killing of Xu to make it happen. Even between friends, that’s a bit excessive. So our view is that Wing and Li are partners, not just friends.”

“I’m told that Sammy has paid a price for what he did.”

“Do you know to what extent?”

“No.”

“About a third of his men were killed and Xu has taken control of Wanchai. Sammy is alive, but he’ll do what he’s told. So now Li finds his enemy parked on his doorstep, less than two hours away by car from Guangzhou. How long will it be before Xu decides to seek his revenge here?”

“It would be suicidal if he tried.”

“I couldn’t agree more. But as things stand, he will try, if for no other reason than to prevent Li from trying to kill him again.”

“That will never happen.”

“Explain that to Xu,” Ava said. She leaned forward. “Or better still, explain it to Suen and Lop.”

“This isn’t Wanchai.”

“I know. From everything I’ve heard, you’re probably as strong as Shanghai. It would be an even match, which in this game means everyone would lose something, and they would keep losing until there was a winner. And what would the winner have when it was over? Not much of anything, I suspect.”

“So why do it when the outcome is so uncertain?”

“Because right now there isn’t any other choice on the table.”

“And you’re going to put one there?”

“Yes, because in addition to everything else, I’m also rather tired of Li trying to kill me.”

Lam stared hard at her. “You obviously have something in mind.”

“I do, something that I think is reasonable.”

“It sounds like you want to deal.”

“Why else would I be here?”

“You have my undivided attention,” Lam said.

( 36 )

It was close to nine o’clock when they reached the outskirts of Kowloon. Ava sat in the back of the car alone. Uncle Fong slept next to Sonny in the front, his head collapsed against the window. There hadn’t been much conversation since they’d left the Pearl Dreams. Ava was exhausted from her meeting with Lam — not as physically tired as Fong but drained mentally and in no mood to talk.

Both Sonny and Uncle Fong had waited in the lobby. When she came down, they almost ran towards her as she exited the elevator.

“It went well enough. At least it’s a start,” she said before they could ask. “Lam and I agreed we’ll keep this between the two of us until we get a chance to talk to Xu and Li. So please, let’s leave it at that.”

When she got into the car, she turned on the reading light. In her notebook she recorded the train of her conversation with Lam. It hadn’t run in a straight line, which was predictable, given the nature of what they were discussing, but it was even more complicated than she had anticipated. Lam was subtle and incredibly intelligent, and he preferred asking questions to providing answers. Since Ava shared that last quality, finding common ground proved to be a tortuous exercise. But she hadn’t lost her patience. She’d prodded him and fended off his probes with increasing confidence as she began to realize that, despite being abstruse, they were of the same mind on most matters.

“Do you want me to take you directly to the Mandarin?” Sonny asked.

The question caught her by surprise. Ava had lost track of time as she worked on her notes and shuffled scenarios. “Where are we?”

“In Kowloon.”

“Let me make one phone call and I’ll tell you,” she said, taking her cell from her bag. She called the clinic. “This is Ava Lee. Can I speak to Doctor Lui?”

“He’s gone,” a female voice said.

“How about Mr. Xu?”

“He’s sleeping.”

“Mr. Xu’s friend, Mr. Suen?”

“Just a minute.”

“Yeah, who is this?” Suen snapped.

“Ava.”

“Oh. Sorry if I sounded rude.”

“How is Xu?”

“Better. He ate something tonight and walked around for about five minutes.”

“Do you think he might be up for a meeting outside the clinic sometime tomorrow?”

“I’m no doctor but I’d be surprised if he could handle that.”

“I see. But just in case, does he have a change of clothes?”

“No.”

“Then tomorrow I want you to buy him a new jacket, white shirt, and tie. Take his old jacket with you so you get the size right.”

“Okay.”

“And when he wakes up, tell him I called and that I’ll be at the clinic by midmorning,” she said. “How are things going in Wanchai? Are Wing and Tan under control?”

“Lop has them.”

“I guess that says it all.”

“I’ll tell the boss that you called and you’ll be by tomorrow,” Suen said. “I already told him how the meeting with Wing went. He couldn’t have been happier. He’ll be pleased to see you.”

I wonder how pleased he’ll be after I tell him about Guangzhou,
she thought.