The door to Allan Marquardt’s corner office was flanked by two mahogany desks occupied by efficient-looking twenty-something women with rigid spines and beautiful faces. Though most employees were gone for the weekend, not all had departed. Marquardt was not taking any days off, given the current crisis. Neither were his secretaries.
Grace checked in with an executive assistant named Selena Ming, who approved her visit and rose to open the office doors for her. Grace squared her shoulders and brushed her hands over her gray suit, double-checked that her collar was peaked properly, and fingered her modest string of pearls. Selena Ming trailed behind her with a steno pad in hand.
As the door closed behind them, Marquardt rose to greet her.
Grace wished he hadn’t.
“Ms. Chu,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you!”
Better, she thought.
The office was paneled in walnut, with hand-knotted rugs overlaying the parquet flooring. Crowded bookshelves gave it the feel of a private library. In the corner, a gleaming black lacquer tray held cut-glass bottles of colorful liquors and upside-down glasses. She felt as if she’d stepped back into Shanghai at the turn of the twentieth century.
“What a breathtaking view,” she said, crossing the spacious room and shaking hands with him.
Marquardt indicated an armchair. It was covered in red raw silk embroidered with hummingbirds. The smell of sandalwood incense hung in the air. Selena Ming delivered green tea and there was five minutes of small talk.
Finally, Marquardt said, “You have filed a grievance with Human Resources.”
His executive assistant took shorthand.
“A minor misunderstanding is all, I assume,” Grace said.
“You are displeased with your accommodations?”
“I believe it is nothing. I was informed my residence would include lobby security and workout facilities.”
“Yes?”
“In fact, my present accommodations do not.”
“I am deeply sorry if there has been a misunderstanding,” he said.
“No misunderstanding. It is in writing.”
“We will resolve this immediately, Ms. Chu. With your permission, we will have your belongings transferred to a new residence”-he checked a note on his desk-“to the Kingland Riverside Luxury Residence serviced apartments in Pudong by the close of business today.” He passed Grace a brochure. Selena Ming looked up from her steno pad, clearly intrigued, then lowered her head. “The keys will be on your desk before you leave for the day. I trust that will be satisfactory.” His tone and demeanor were pitch-perfect.
“That would be lovely. Thank you.”
“Now,” he waved away Selena, “please allow me to show you the view.”
Selena left, and Marquardt led Grace out onto a narrow balcony, closing the elegant French doors behind them.
She spoke softly. “I mentioned before that I need access to the end-of-year records-more than just the GA. I would appreciate the passwords required for access.”
“You’ll have them,” he said.
Fifty floors below, the traffic crawled ant-like through intersections. The smog-encrusted skyline was broken by towering cranes, the air alive with the percussive sounds of construction and the steady drone of traffic.
He pointed. “To the right of the Jin Mao Tower, just past the World Financial Center. You see the building with the yellow crane on the very top?”
“Yes.”
“That’s ours-the Xuan Tower.”
“Yes,” she said.
Marquardt nodded proudly. “It’s a beautiful building. And so far we’ve been tolerated by your government, though clearly our participation is unwelcome.” He turned and looked at her. “We are Beijing’s token foreign construction project, authorized only to show the rest of the world they don’t favor their own. We’ve pissed off a lot of Chinese, Grace. I know we have. But just how far, I had no idea.”
“It appears nearly finished,” she said, noting the building’s upper twenty stories were wrapped in a green fabric, strung over elaborate scaffolding, noting that he thought the kidnapping directly related to the construction of the tower.
“There’s much yet to be done. Is it coincidence that as we near completion, Lu Hao is abducted and therefore the incentives stop, and we encounter problems? We’re only a couple days into this and we’re already experiencing costly slowdowns-materials, labor. Our vendors and suppliers aren’t getting their payments.” Marquardt paused to make full eye contact with Grace. “Our problem is, only Mr. Lu knew their identities. This is critical work you’re doing, Ms. Chu.”
“It benefits your Chinese competitors.”
“If you go down that road, start with Yang Cheng. Yang’s a devilish prick who has taken every opportunity for nearly a decade to remind me foreign builders don’t belong here. He’s never accepted our being awarded the Xuan.”
“I will start with Lu Hao’s apartment,” Grace said. “The sooner I have the end-of-year accounts, the better. I can help keep auditors from realizing the exact nature of Lu Hao’s work for you. Important should we fail in his recovery.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, though didn’t sound at all certain.
Her BlackBerry vibrated.
“Take it, if you want,” he said.
“I’m fine,” she said, noting that the call was from her mother. She flushed slightly as she returned the device to its holster.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“Was there anyone within your company who served as a primary contact with Lu Hao?”
“Preston Song.”
“I would like a meeting with Mr. Song. Not here. Not in the company building. Perhaps something social. But soon.”
“I’ll arrange it.”
Before he opened the doors to the office, Marquardt said, “Please be careful, Ms. Chu. Yes?”
Grace nodded.
Back inside the office, Marquardt raised his voice slightly to make sure his assistants heard. “I trust you will find your new residence acceptable. If you have any more problems, feel free to bypass HR and bring them directly to me.” He paused. “We are pleased to have you working with us, Ms. Chu.”
Grace rode one of the elevators to the lobby and stepped outside for privacy. She returned the call to her mother, speaking Mandarin.
“Mother?”
“You come to Shanghai and do not tell me? What kind of daughter are you?”
Her mother continued berating her, but Grace was stuck on the fact that her mother knew she was in Shanghai.
“How can you possibly-? I only arrived this morning.”
“Third cousin by marriage, Teardrop Chang, was on a flight from Hong Kong. You do not call your own mother? Your mother who carried you for nine months? Your mother who suffered your birth?”
“Of course I was going to call,” she lied.
“If you have returned for the sake of little brother Lu, please do not tell your father. He will most certainly have heart failure.”
“Why would I return for the sake of Lu Hao?” Grace tried to sound naive, her heart pounding now. Her mother could not possibly know of the voice mail she’d received from Lu Hao ahead of his kidnapping-a voice mail she’d ignored.
“Little brother Lu has not called his mother. Does not answer his mobile phone. Has not been seen. Do you
