and stood beside it.
I smiled at the man who stood between us and the view: an older, sharp-nosed Asian gent who looked exactly like his Web site photo. He wore short graying hair and a fine navy suit my mother would have admired.
“Mr. Lau? Thank you for seeing us. I’m Lydia Chin. This is Vladimir Oblomov.”
Bill came forward and enthusiastically shook Lionel Lau’s hand. “Meester Lau! A real pleasure, dis is.”
Lionel Lau, face impassive, returned the handshake in a more restrained manner and gestured us to large leather chairs. As we sat, he asked in accent-free English, “May I offer you tea?” He might be shady, Mr. Lau, but he was Chinese.
Before I could answer, Bill said, “Yah, tenks, but you got
The younger man darkened, and internally I questioned the wisdom of throwing around the word “punch,” but Lionel Lau just said, “Mr. Zu, will you see to it, please?” Young Mr. Zu stuck his head out the door and spoke briefly to the Ming princess.
Bill cheerfully shifted his chair so he could see both Lau and Zu. “Dis iss big honor, Mr. Lau. Vassily Imports got great respect for Tiger Holdinks. My boss tell me, ‘Oblomov, you verk hard, you lucky, someday you be like Lionel Lau.’”
“I appreciate the compliment,” Lionel Lau said, sitting behind his ornate desk. “In that case, however, I wonder why you—or your boss…” He waited, but Bill did nothing but grin, so Lau continued, “… would want to interfere with one of my business ventures.”
“You mean, det gellery. Vere Fetso has de Chaus.”
“I do.”
A knock sounded, and Zu opened the door to a young woman who brought a tea tray to the sideboard, bowed, and backed out. Zu lifted from it a smaller tray with a glass of tea in a silver-handled holder and a bowl of sugar cubes, and brought it to the coffee table near Bill. From the larger tray he poured green tea into tiny cups, brought one to Lau and one to me. There was no cup for Zu; he must not drink on duty.
I gave the tea my full attention, out of courtesy to our host. It was sharp, sweet, and uncomplicated. “Lovely,” I said. Bill was busy positioning a sugar cube between his teeth and noisily sucking his tea across it, so after a second sip, I spoke. “Mr. Lau, we appreciate your situation and we don’t mean to cause trouble for you.”
“No, sir!” Bill stored the sugar cube temporarily in his cheek. “Vassily Imports vant to be friends vit Tiger Holdinks. But problem vass, my boss, he vanted Chaus, too.” He shrugged. What can a working stiff do? He went back to his tea.
“The problem runs deeper than you might think,” I told Lau. “We came here to warn you that there’s about to be unavoidable trouble at Baxter/Haig.”
“Warn me? Are you making threats?”
“No, I’m sorry, that was a bad choice of words. Perhaps ‘alert you’ would have been better. This trouble, you see, is unavoidable because the forces involved are some with whom Vassily Imports will go some distance to remain in good standing.”
“Da,” Bill agreed. “Big shots, you know?” He winked at Lau.
“If keeping these relationships untroubled involves Vassily Imports stepping aside in certain situations, I’m sure you can see that that’s an investment well worth making,” I went on. “And worth urging others to make.”
“Ms. Chin—”
“Vat she sayink, Meester Lau—she beat across da bush all da time, I know—she sayink, vat’s about to go down at Baxter/Haig, pleeze, you and Meester Voo chust stay out uff it, okay?”
“Vlad, please,” I said. “Mr. Lau, we’re in a position to help some friends with an operation that matters a great deal to them, and we’d like to do it. To this end Mr. Oblomov’s employer has already abandoned his pursuit of the paintings. We do understand, however, that Tiger Holdings has a significant and legitimate investment in Baxter/Haig.”
“All my investments are legitimate,” Lau said. When Bill and I glanced at each other, Lau added, “If Mr. Woo’s eagerness to complete his assignment had led you to think otherwise, I apologize. As, I’m sure, would he, if he’d understood that he’d upset you.”
“His willingness to shoot me was a trifle upsetting, yes,” I said. “In view of his self-restraint an hour ago in Mr. Haig’s office, though, it’s possible he and I just got off on the wrong foot. I’m willing to let bygones be bygones.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Rest assured I’ll be speaking to him about his approach. However, that’s really neither here nor there concerning my investment in Baxter/Haig. I’m sure you understand, I must protect my business interests.”
Bill said, “By heving Voo, or some udder jeckess, henging around dere all da time?”
“If that’s required.”
Shooting Bill a dark look, I said, “In that case I think you’ll understand the value of the arrangement we came here to discuss.”
“And what would that be?” Lau placed his teacup on his desk and tapped his fingertips together, the very picture of a reasonable executive willing to consider a deal.
“As I understand it, if Mr. Haig can’t repay your loan, you’ll own the gallery.”
“That’s correct.”
“Vell, dere you go,” said Bill. “All de paintinks, dey gotta be worth lots uff money. You don’t need Fetso to sell de Chaus.”
