Ghost Hero

He stopped. “I am what?”

“In a position to sell them. Well, let me qualify that. You have them. But it’s true you can’t sell them yet. And without my help I don’t believe you’ll be able to.”

Woo sat forward. “You have Chaus? This true, what she say?”

“Why is he here?” I asked Haig.

Still without a glance at Woo, Haig said, “Certainly not at my invitation.”

“And yet, here he is. You, who threatened to have Vladimir Oblomov thrown out yesterday, you who bullied a terrified young woman into leaving just because you could, you’re putting up with this coffee-swilling klutz in your pristine inner sanctum. It’s killing you, I can see that. But there’s nothing you can do. He’s here because his boss is getting impatient. You owe Tiger Holdings a lot of money and they’ve heard about the Chaus.”

Woo, who’d let “coffee-swilling klutz” whizz right by him, jumped again on “Chaus.” “You have Chaus? You have, don’t tell Mr. Lau? That don’t make him happy.”

Haig’s tongue darted out and licked his lips. He didn’t seem to like the thought of Mr. Lau being unhappy.

“Why, Mr. Haig,” I marveled. “They’re afraid you’ll cheat them. Mr. Woo’s here because Mr. Lau—that’s the boss, right?—isn’t going to let you make a move anymore without him knowing about it. They suspect you of being the lying, cheating worm you are. I bet Woo’s even supposed to follow you home. At least he buys his own coffee. Mr. Woo, please sit down.” Haig whipped his head around. Woo, out of his chair, stopped uncertainly. “Mr. Woo, you won’t get what you want by physical intimidation. Not because Mr. Haig is a brave man by any means, but because you can’t squeeze blood from a turnip. Do you know that expression in English? Well, it doesn’t matter. Please sit down. I’m here to help you both.”

After a moment, Woo sat, scowling. Haig, who’d paled at the word “blood,” slowly turned back to me, showing great self-control by not rearranging his chair to bring Woo into his line of sight. Maybe he was braver than I gave him credit for.

“As I say,” I told Haig, “you’ll need my help to sell the Chaus. Without me,” I spoke to Woo, “he can’t sell them and Mr. Lau can’t get his money back.” I gave him a significant look. I wasn’t sure what it signified but he seemed to be. When I turned back to Haig, Woo stayed silent.

“Your help?” Haig said, starting to recover. “I cannot think of a situation in which I’d need your help. Oblomov’s not the only interested party, you know.”

“I do know that. But finding a buyer’s not the problem, is it?”

“Ms. Chin. If I did have the Chaus,” he flicked an involuntary glance in Woo’s direction, “why couldn’t I sell them? And if you think I can’t sell them, why are you here?”

“You do have them,” I repeated. “You knew all about them, even where they were, when Vladimir and I were first here, but you didn’t have them yet. Now you do. But you can’t sell them because you can’t get them authenticated. And I’m here because I can help.” I crossed my legs, letting my skirt ride up a tiny bit. Oh, Lydia, sometimes you’re just so cheesy.

Haig zeroed in on my leg-crossing operation. When it was over he switched his attention back to my face. “I can’t imagine how.”

I fingered the jade on its gold chain around my neck and smiled again. “Then I’ll explain. You can’t get the Chaus authenticated because they’re not authentic.” Movement in the corner caused me to turn my head. “Mr. Woo, sit down!” He scowled, but after a moment, he sat. “Thank you. You didn’t know they were fakes? Don’t worry, we can still make Mr. Lau happy.” I turned back. “But you, Mr. Haig, you knew all along. Anna Yang painted them, Bernard Yang’s daughter. Please, Mr. Haig, don’t insult me by looking affronted. Or surprised. Thank you. Or by asking me how I know this or anything else I’m about to say, because of course I’m not going to tell you. You’ve asked Dr. Yang to authenticate them, but he won’t. But maybe I should be more precise. You didn’t ask him to determine whether they’re authentic. You asked him to say that they are. To put his stamp of approval on them, so you can sell them for the fortune they’d be worth if they weren’t fakes. Your threat, if he didn’t, was that you’d claim Anna Yang already rooked you, sold them to you as real, using his name to pull the wool over your eyes. You’d look like a fool and be stuck with worthless junk paintings—which by the way you stole, she didn’t sell to you, but that’s another issue entirely and in fact I commend you on your resourcefulness.”

Haig made a strangled sound.

“Please, Mr. Haig, this really will go better if you just let me finish.” I bounced my high-heeled foot impatiently.

“Again, thank you. You’d be stuck, but Anna Yang’s reputation would be ruined and her career would be over. You thought that would be a persuasive argument, forcing Dr. Yang into this bit of chicanery. But it wasn’t. His own reputation means more to him, it seems, than you were banking on. More than his daughter’s, and more than her career. In any case, there’s a rift between them since her wedding in Beijing. Apparently, when she married that dissident poet, Liu Mai-ke, it was without her father’s permission.”

Haig’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t know that?” I asked. “You were at the wedding banquet. I’ve seen the footage on YouTube. It didn’t strike you as odd that Dr. Yang wasn’t there?”

“I understood he couldn’t get a visa. May I speak now? Well, thank you. That wedding was a ridiculous public spectacle. I went because I had to go. A lot of my artists were there. It would have been unseemly for me to refuse. I assume she did it for the notoriety and he did it for the green card, and I really don’t care. Unless you’re accusing me of some crime in connection with that, too? I should have you thrown out of here on your compact little ass for the slander you’re slinging around.”

“Who would do that? Nicky Greenbank? Call him, why don’t you? Or maybe you’ll ask Mr. Woo for a favor? He’d probably enjoy it. But no, why would you? I’m right. Whatever hole you were in with Tiger Holdings that got you so hot and bothered you had those paintings stolen, you’re still in it if you can’t get them authenticated. You’re desperate and you’re wondering what I’m here to offer you. Not, I assure you, my compact little ass.”

We stared at each other: he calculating, though pale; me smug, though I was getting tired of my heart racing.

“What, then?”