the whole space, and it was set alone in a rounded V pattern at the center of the floor and illuminated with three Tiffany table lamps. The rest of the room was kept in relative darkness. Two of the high-backed chairs were set on either side of the V, and the third was set imperiously at the head—the result being that no one person faced another directly, and one had to turn slightly to address the other guests.
Robert’s father was not present when they entered, but the gentleman in the white silk suit and gloves escorted the young men to their seats, whereupon two similarly clad waiters appeared out of nowhere to stand behind their chairs. Luke carefully placed the folio next to his leg where he could feel it.
They hadn’t been seated fifteen seconds when Mr. Wu senior also appeared as if out of the dark void. Both Robert and Luke stood up for their host. Robert greeted his father in Chinese and bowed slightly from the waist. His father caught sight of the queue, smiled, and mistimed his response, which seemed to amuse Robert. He winked at Luke.
Mr. Wu then turned to Luke and bowed slightly. “I’m so happy you were able to make this journey, Mr. Lucas. I will attempt to make your time with us as profitable as I can.”
Luke smiled and looked around. “With all due respect, I’d say you’ve already outdone anything I was expecting. You’ve been most generous, sir.”
Robert’s father smiled and nodded. “I think it’s always best to let history make those judgments, Mr. Lucas. Please, take your seats.”
The three table waiters helped with the chairs in one motion and immediately turned and came around to the front of the table to deliver small silver platters, centered with steaming silver finger bowls scented with jasmine and roses. Soft napkins were uniformly rolled at one side, and a small green sea turtle, deftly carved from lime peel, floated on the water.
Luke looked across at Robert and copied whatever he did. Mr. Wu turned to Luke again. “Mr. Lucas, I really do appreciate your feelings about security, which, by the way, is the principal reason we are meeting here tonight, but I’d be a poor host to allow you to sit there all evening with that package chafing up against your leg . . . If you’ll look to your right, you’ll find that a low table has been placed there for your convenience. You can safely rest your burden there within reach. I assure you no one will touch it without your permission.”
Luke did as suggested. “Thank you, sir. But this portfolio is more of an emotional burden than anything else. Thankfully, by Monday it shall be back under tight security once more.”
Mr. Wu interjected. “That was one of the things I wished to discuss with you, Mr. Lucas, but that can all wait until after we’ve enjoyed our dinner. I hope you don’t mind, gentlemen, but I’ve taken the liberty of choosing the menu and wine in advance. Do you like French food, Mr. Lucas? I know my son does.”
Luke smiled. “Yes, sir, I do indeed. My dear mother tried her best to raise me well, and she was a genuine ‘Four F’: frenzied French-food fanatic. However, she always claimed I had an untutored palate, by which she meant I ate too much garbage in the student union, I suppose.”
The elder Wu laughed with insight and turned to Robert. “I had the same problem with my esteemed son, but I unknowingly nurtured a future addict. He even wangled a stint at the Sorbonne in Paris to study ancient Chinese texts collected by French Jesuits on the island of Ceylon. However, his credit card bills indicate that he spent six hours of every eight eating a wide swath all over Paris, and all of southern France, I might add.” Mr. Wu bowed his head toward his son. “It’s in my son’s honor that I have chosen our menu.”
Robert looked pleased. “That’s most kind of you, Father.”
The meal was excellent and consisted of numerous small dishes, each calculated to make the portion that followed taste even better. Robert said it was like a French dim sum, and he inhaled every morsel.
When the last course was cleared away and coffee served, the waitstaff disappeared completely. Mr. RI and Mr. Wu’s chauffeur appeared out of the shadows. The secretary supervised the placement of a covered table nearby, and two more lamps were brought in to illuminate the surface. Mr. RI then produced a wrapped package, approximately two feet square, and carefully placed it at the center of the table, and then he and the chauffeur disappeared back into the gloom, but Luke was quite sure they had not left the room. He imagined that they were in the dark somewhere close by watching their master’s every move for a hint of distress.
When he’d finished his coffee, Mr. Wu turned to his guest. “With your indulgence, Mr. Lucas, perhaps you will allow that it’s about time we discussed the purpose of our gathering.”
“As you wish, sir. As long as it’s within reason, and within the bounds of propriety, I’m at your service.”
Robert’s father nodded. “As you say, within the bounds of propriety, to be sure. Now it occurs to me, Mr. Lucas, that I know a great deal about you, whereas you know very little about me, aside from what my son has most likely told you.”
Luke politely interrupted. “I hope you’ll forgive me, sir, but Robert has told me nothing that an observant person could not deduce for himself.” Luke turned to his friend. “In fact, I might add without fear of contradiction that at present he’s probably more mystified about what’s happening here than I am. And in that light, perhaps our business would advance somewhat if I were to tell you what I do know, and you can correct me if I’m wrong in my details.”
The elder Wu’s eyes almost twinkled with an air of confidence that spoke of amused defiance.
Luke smiled confidently. His “freaks” had hit pay dirt. He looked at Robert and smiled again. Having no knowledge of what his friend was up to, Robert appeared somewhat pensive. Luke carefully folded his napkin, set it to one side, and turned to face his host. “To begin with, your son has told me little or nothing of importance beyond your exceptional scholastic credentials, and those are public knowledge. However, this is what I’ve discovered on my own. Your real name is not Lawrence H. Wu, it is in fact Dr. Lao-Hong Wu, and your grandfather was Dr. Lao- Hong. From my calculations he was a contemporary of Dr. Gilbert’s. Next, your family’s association with a company now calling itself APITC, or the Asian Pacific International Trading Company, goes back almost eight generations. It was then called the Three Celestial Corporations. I can only assume that modesty later inspired the elders to shorten the name to the Three Corporations. In effect you are CEO and president of the oldest credentialed Asian trading house in the United States. Your company’s reported net profits for last year alone amounted to $3,900,758,000. On a personal note, you were born on the second of August, 1944, in Nanjing, China, and came to this country under the sponsorship of American relatives when you were five years old. Your academic career was exemplary, if somewhat narrow in focus, and you have been employed by APITC since your graduation from Harvard Law School. You have only one son, the eminent linguist Dr. Robert Wu.” Luke grinned at Robert. “And I can only assume, from what I know of Chinese practices, that you have tried on numerous occasions to bring him into the family business, so far unsuccessfully.”
The elder Wu and his son suddenly appeared almost dumbstruck. They looked at each other with raised brows, and then looked back to Luke.
