“Did you have a business plan?” I asked Bill.
“Not a chance. For a PI office? Listen, guys. We don’t know how big the risk actually is. The government men on both sides could still be freelancing. They might easily both just fade away if there were real trouble involved.”
“I question the ‘easily,’” Jack said. “And Mighty Casey Woo didn’t sound like he was going to fade away. And he has a gun.”
“Well,” I said, “if that’s the direction you want to go in…”
So we explored that direction, looking from many angles at a reasonable risk/return ratio. By the time the coffee and tea were gone and even the goliath Danish had disappeared, we’d come up with what we thought was one heck of a plan.
17
Our first step was to get all the good guys on the same page. We ran into trouble right away: We wouldn’t be able to talk to Dr. Yang until lunchtime. “He has a seminar,” Jack said, clicking off from a short conversation with the department secretary. “I made us an appointment. Meanwhile, at least we know where he is.”
“You mean, at least he’s not out trying to do Doug Haig grievous bodily harm? Because that thought crossed my mind, too.”
Next good guy, Anna. Jack put his phone on speaker. He didn’t tell her what we were planning, just to sit tight, not to answer the phone if Haig called, and to wait until she heard from us. She couldn’t believe we really had an idea, and if we did, that it was any good; except she wanted to so badly she was willing to do what we asked.
One of the things we asked was that she call Pete Tsang and tell him about the stolen paintings.
“Haig said not to tell anyone,” she protested. “Daddy did, too.”
“I know,” Jack said. “But if Pete talks to the wrong people he could screw this up. We’ll explain the whole thing later, when we have it all lined up. Just ask Pete to call me, okay? And don’t worry.”
It was a no-brainer that she was going to disobey that last instruction, but she said she’d follow the others. Our next call was to the good guy who’d need the most lead time: Linus. I got his voice mail and told it what we needed. “Another Web site. Call Jack Lee”—I gave him Jack’s number—“and he’ll tell you exactly what to say on it and where to get material. You don’t know him but you can trust him.” Jack delivered a thumbs-up when he heard that. “It can look a little primitive, in fact it probably should. But here’s the important part. I need it by four this afternoon. And Linus, it needs to be in Chinese.”
Bill gave me raised eyebrows as I clicked off. “Is his Chinese up to that? As I recall, it’s kind of primitive itself.”
“That’s okay,” said Jack. “No one who matters who’ll see this site can read Chinese, either.”
The action switched back to Jack’s phone. First, he called Chicago.
He’d objected when I’d first brought up Clarence Snyder. “That other expert,” I’d said. “The one you studied with. Are you on good enough terms to call him?”
“Not to ask him to lie, no.”
“Nothing like that. He’s just insurance.” I explained what I had in mind. Jack was skeptical, but my logic was irrefutably sound. He made the call, skirting the details but letting Dr. Snyder know he was working for the Yangs (which was sort of true) and that Doug Haig was trying to get over on them. In the end, since Jack promised to reveal all once the case was over and since Dr. Snyder wasn’t being asked to do anything except tell the literal truth, he agreed. “More than just agreed,” Jack said, hanging up. “He was impressively enthusiastic.”
“Well, you said he was a friend of Dr. Yang’s.”
“And also, he knows Doug Haig.”
The next event on Jack’s phone happened almost immediately. Pete Tsang called. Jack didn’t put him on speaker but the gist of the discussion wasn’t hard to follow.
“I know,” Jack said. “Well, you could do that. Or you could let Haig hang them out to dry.… Yes, we do.… Anna’s on board. She told you?… No, because she doesn’t know the details.… Pete. If you see Jon-Jon Jie, or Doug Haig … I said
“Reluctant?” I asked when Jack clicked off.
“Oh, he’s fine. I just had to talk him out of blowing Jon-Jon Jie’s brains out and stuffing what’s left down Doug Haig’s throat.”
“Creative solution.”
“He’s an artist.”
So our first three good guys were relatively easy pickings.
The fourth, we weren’t even sure was a good guy.
“If he is, it’ll be a lot simpler,” I said. “He lied and we don’t know what he’s up to, but if he’s on our side the whole thing will be easier.”
The guys agreed, so I called my client.
He answered on the second ring. “Ms. Chin! News?”
“A whole lot of it. Mr. Jerrold.”
Into the silence while he was thinking up how to respond, I said, “Don’t bother. But we have to talk. I’d like you to meet me at my office.”
A pause, then just, “When?”
“An hour from now.”
What could he say?
