Ridley Pearson - The Risk Agent

“So Mr. Dulwich owes you.”

“It doesn’t work like that. Americans don’t think like that.”

“Everyone thinks like that.”

“Tell me about the Mongolians,” he said.

She seemed tempted not to change the subject, but relented. “Five, all living in the lane.”

“And Lu Hao paid a visit to one of them.”

“So it would seem,” she said.

“For a large payoff, according to Danny.”

“No way around needing Lu Hao’s books,” she said. “We must not lose focus.”

“It’s a work in progress. Danny’s hard drive may help us there. But the Mongolians mean something. Are they just after their share? Could it be that simple?”

“Why not?”

“Or are they working for the police? Or State Security? Someone who could obtain the proper documents for them.”

“Freelance? It is possible. In that case, for what you’ve done to them…”

“It would explain their watching Lu’s apartment,” Knox said. “They’re keeping tabs on you and me because we showed up there. Maybe they think you’re the next Lu Hao and they want to make sure you know they’re due their share.”

“It would be easier to speak with me. No need to follow.”

“Yeah, I know,” Knox said. He didn’t like it either.

She’d already told him about the green motorcycle.

“So they beat the crap out of the Sherpa.”

“Hoping to find Lu Hao.”

“But like us, it’s just an empty warehouse. So they keep an eye on the Sherpa and we come along. By now they know an American has taken out two of them. That makes us persons of interest to them.”

“Or targets.”

Knox moved only slightly and winced with the pain.

“The incentive budget would have increased to account for the Mongolian payment. Your Mr. Danner said it was a recent addition. That money must be accounted for. The Berthold EOY records should account for it.”

“There’s always just asking Marquardt about it.”

“He would not know such details. He is insulated from the particulars. Preston Song, perhaps.”

“Can you talk to Song?”

“I would prefer to see the company financials first. The more I know, the more hard information I have, the more leverage.”

He heard the frustration in her voice.

“Lu’s books,” Knox said.

“Yes. His accounting of the incentives should answer many of our questions. His accounting is currency. Whoever has that information, whoever controls it, has the real power.”

“So, if nothing else, we get it for that reason: to protect it.”

“To keep it from others,” Grace said.

“Works for me.”

“Mr. Marquardt has yet to provide me the end-of-year accounting. I do not know if this is intentional or simply neglect. Perhaps it is significant. Perhaps not.”

“Above my pay grade,” he said, feeling his wound. He wanted sleep. “If I had to bet, Danny got himself a copy of Lu’s payouts within the first week of his covering Lu. It’s how he rolls.”

“So it makes sense for me to do a thorough study of the hard drive’s contents,” Grace said. “I am an expert with such data. But, unfortunately, I’m not finding the data on the hard drive in the first place.”

“We can find somebody to help.”

“Your friend,” she said, disgustedly.

Knox remained motionless to allow the Super Glue to set.

“Did you get beer?”

She returned with two open beers. They drank together.

“I must attempt to engage Preston Song. Also, Mr. Marquardt, if possible.”

“You must take every precaution,” he said.

“Yes. Of course. Off site, if I can manage.”

“We have three known groups we’re dealing with: the Mongolians; Yang’s boys; and this government cop, Shen. That’s a lot of possible eyeballs on you.”

“Understood.”

He liked the way her throat moved as she drank.

He said, “And only one of me watching your entrance and exit. Our best and only real shot at identifying your surveillants.”

“I will arrange off site,” she repeated. “Away from the office. I arrive early, leave late.”

He was going to point out that her earlier mistake had led to the attack in the alley, but she didn’t strike him as a person who wanted or needed such reminders. Still, as he pieced it together, he couldn’t help himself.

“Yang’s men must have overheard your ranting about me taking the GPS from you,” he said.

She looked struck. “I had not considered.”

“Nor I. But that’s why they hit us with force: they knew we had Danny’s GPS.”

“My apartment,” she said.

“There’s something I haven’t mentioned,” he said. “A guy thing. The way Yang Cheng and his bodyguard looked at you at the cocktail party. It wasn’t casual. It was…all-knowing.”

She stared at him. “I do not understand.”

“There’s checking out a woman, and then there’s the X-ray vision thing. The full body scan. The snicker. Boys in the treehouse. These two had seen you.”

“Of course. They were looking at me.”

“Had seen you in…private. Your apartment, I’m thinking.”

She pursed her lips.

“Listen. They were ogling you.”

He saw her shiver.

“We might be able to use that,” Knox said.

Her eyes pleaded for him to stop.

“I need to call Sarge and let him know we’re blown,” Knox said.

“And injured.”

“He can inform Marquardt.”

“I will take care of that when I see him and Preston Song. John, I am sorry for this. It is my fault.”

He didn’t disagree with her. “The assault. After the hurt we put on Yang Cheng’s guys…even though they won’t report it to the police, there’s a good chance the police will hear about it. Way too many eyes in this city. So we can add the police to the list of people to avoid.”

He chugged down half his beer. “Face recognition.” He burped. “Sarge warned me. We need to take care.”

She sipped from the bottle. “When he hears of your injury, Mr. Dulwich will order you back to Hong Kong.”

“So he won’t hear. Besides, I don’t answer to Sarge.”

“We both answer to Mr. Dulwich,” she corrected. “He is our immediate superior.”

“It’s a cultural thing,” he said.

“I believe we will be recalled.”

He scoffed. “Let me ask you this: if they ‘recall’ us, are you going to leave Lu Hao behind?”

She nursed the beer, eyes probing over the curve of the bottle.

“Me neither,” Knox said.

12:10 P.M.

TOMORROW SQUARE

SHANGHAI

The White Lotus, located on the twenty-seventh floor of the Marriott Tower in Tomorrow Square, had a dozen private rooms off its central dining room. Each private room had an expansive view of the city. A private waitstaff came and went; only the headwaiter remained in the room, arms behind his back, standing rigidly in the corner.

Allan Marquardt dismissed him. The round table could accommodate ten. Three was somewhat awkward. Preston Song sat slightly closer to Marquardt than to Grace, isolating her from the center of power. A soft forty-something with piggish eyes, Song wore a glorious blue suit, a gold tie pin and a leering look of displeasure.

Grace updated them on the Sherpa’s connection and her possessing Danner’s GPS locations all in an effort to gain the elusive end-of-year accounting.

“From what you’ve told us, you’ve clearly made progress,” Marquardt said. “We’re encouraged by that.”

“I understand you have done well with negotiations,” she said.

“Yes.”

Preston Song studied her distrustfully.

Grace collected her thoughts and sought a professional and confident tone. “In our pursuit of Lu Hao’s accounts, and location, my associate and I have questioned those people on Lu Hao’s route-those receiving incentives. I am afraid none is a candidate for Lu Hao’s kidnapper. During this process, we were made aware of a recent payment added to Lu Hao’s route.” She watched for reaction. Marquardt smirked. Preston Song revealed nothing.