John Burdett - The Last Six Million Seconds

He nodded. “I know. That’s why I asked one of my partners to come here today to meet you. He should be here now. Open the door. He said he’d wait till I called him.”

Moira crossed the floor to open the door to the corridor. The Chinese man on the bench stood up and stretched out his hand.

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Coletti.” It was a New York accent. If she closed her eyes, he could have been an Italian American or a New York Jew.

She shook his hand without enthusiasm. He was shorter than she was, no more than five-four, in an electric blue silk suit with Italian cut. He was almost as round as he was tall with a jutting chin. At that height the air of unassailable authority was borderline absurd, except for the eyes. There was nothing phony there; they were genuine reptile. He gestured for her to return to the hospital room.

“Moira, meet Danny Chow, the real capo di tutti capi. ”

Chow half closed his eyes. “Please.”

“One of the most powerful men in the Western world. Head of the 14K Triad Society worldwide. But don’t tell anyone.”

Chow raised a hand. “I said please. ”

“He’s agreed to come here today out of respect for you as Clare’s mother. Right, Danny?”

“I have the greatest admiration for your daughter, Mrs. Coletti. She is a visionary. I think you’ll agree that we’ve gone to exceptional lengths to ensure her safety. We’re a caring organization, Mrs. Coletti. We look after our people.”

“That’s good,” Moira said.

“Tell her, Danny. Tell it all.”

Chow gestured for Moira to sit down by the side of the bed while he stood.

“Communists, Mrs. Coletti.” He raised a finger. “Excuse me, but fucking Communists. They have a criminal mentality, ma’am; their whole outlook is based on lies and deception. Other organizations have embraced the late twentieth century with intelligence and enthusiasm; we have grown. We are businessmen now; we abhor violence and use it only when strictly necessary. If the average man has difficulty in fully comprehending the nature of international commerce in our time, such that certain quaint regulations outlaw some of our activities, then that’s a cross the businessman has to bear. We understand: The most advanced in any society have always to suffer the consequences of being out in front.

“But Communists, ma’am-Neanderthals, primitives, cavemen, power freaks, criminals , pure and simple. It was a business deal like any other. A certain figure prominent in the People’s Liberation Army required a certain commodity for his purposes. Not having immediate access to that commodity myself, I contacted my good friend and business associate Mario Coletti. He in turn worked his contacts until that commodity could be located, its price verified according to the market, freight, forwarding and profit margin added, a certain sum for risk included, and a deal was struck. A deal, ma’am, is sacred. When we cease to honor deals, civilization will fail; we’ll be back to bows and arrows. Now the nature of this particular commodity is such that we would not trust it to our usual couriers.

“Three of our best people were chosen, two from my firm, one from Mr. Coletti’s: your daughter, Clare, courageous, beautiful, a trailblazer in her own right. All is going well. The commodity, together with certain sample items that we feel may be of interest to the purchaser, arrives safely at its destination. Handover is days away, days away. Then what happens? Tell Clare’s mother, Mario. I’m ashamed of the primitive side of my own race and pray for the day when they shall be raised from out of their ignorance.”

Moira closed her eyes while the two men shared the pleasure of explaining their scam in detail, down to the miniature camera used to photograph the victims’ mouths and the sample bites in gum that the local mob dentist had insisted on. The dentist was an artist, they said. They were talking about lives, heroin, weapons-grade uranium, but the minds behind the words were adolescent; My ex-husband has about five days left on earth, and dear God, he still hasn’t grown up.

When they had finished, Moira forced a smile. “That’s brilliant. Thank you for telling me. The general, he doesn’t know you diced up his own men?”

“Of course not, ma’am. He may suspect, and he may better understand that international commercial organizations such as ours are not to be trifled with, but of course he will never be sure. The possibility will be there, goading him like a thorn-and perhaps leading him eventually to the light. I’m pretty confident he will see the error of his ways, if he hasn’t done so already. It may seem cruel to you, Mrs. Coletti, but in our business credibility- face , as we Chinese say-is everything.” Chow looked at Mario with an indulgent smile. “I think it’s safe to say we increased our credibility in the international community quite a bit. It was David and Goliath, and David won again.”

“Unless Clare and the others are found,” Moira said. “I guess the general will want to close the credibility gap if that happens.”

Chow smiled benevolently. “We are a powerful, rich and well-connected organization, Mrs. Coletti. You have my word, that will never happen. We know he watches the airport, which is why we are keeping them safely for the time being in Hong Kong. They are being given plastic surgery. At an appropriate moment they will be brought back to this country and given new identities.”

Moira nodded, stared at the floor for a moment, then put a hand on Mario’s arm. “You did well, honey. You came up trumps.”

The face on the pillow smiled gratefully.

D ear Charlie,

It’s not the way you think. Read this fax. You can be wrong too, you know.

These are strange times. I wept real tears that day in your apartment because I didn’t know anything except I was supposed to save Clare’s life by delivering phony dental records to you. I still don’t know how you guessed I was part of the scam, you really are one smart cop. But I knew next to nothing. All they told me was that she had to get a new identity real fast and those records were the only way to do it. I wept because she was the one caused suffering to three others, and because even if she lived, I knew that I’d lost her.

Take a moment to hear me out, Charlie. All that stuff you say about China raping its people-you think it doesn’t apply to Americans too? Our system rapes; it just uses different concepts to do it. I spent my life patrolling the streets of this city, and it took everything I had, my husband, my daughter and even my good character. When I met you, she was all I had in the world. Nothing to be proud of, God knows, but she called me Mom. What would you have done for your flesh and blood? I think you would have held the world ransom if you’d had to.

I don’t know. Bad as she was, she was more flake than sadist. Heroin, you know, makes monsters.

There I go, blowing the punch line and leaving out the details. I got it all written down. Mario and some Chinese triad boss told me everything. Soon as I got home I typed out all I could remember, which is most of it. It goes like this:

That stuff he told you about Clare convincing the mob to develop the relationship with China was mostly BS. Ever since the Sicilians multiplied their operation by opening up the Russia market, the New York boys have been looking for a way into China. It’s a policy that comes from high up. They got lucky when the 14K asked them to look for best-quality uranium to supply to Xian. Apparently Xian’s been trading with the 14K for a while, mostly supplying heroin. The Mob and the 14K sent a party over with the uranium and some stuff they thought might interest him-free gifts, samples, treasures to the Great Khan, whatever…