Pradya, I kind of like him-and he takes charge of Frank. He’s got a cell phone. He’ll call you when we pick Frank up. You can even talk to Frank, if you want to make sure he’s with us. I arrive with the money. You have someone bring out Noi. We swap, right there. Cash for Noi. The rubies and Frank-and Ming Li, I guess-are out of sight until they’re needed. You can’t shoot me or you lose everything else. I can’t shoot you because you’ve still got Rose and Miaow, and your guy, Pradya, could pop Frank. With me?”
“So far.”
“Then one of your people brings out Rose, and one of my people brings out the rubies.”
“Who? Who are your people?”
“Only one of them has skills. The people who bring out your items will be girls from Rose’s agency. Former go-go dancers.” He can feel
the women look up at him.
Chu laughs. “Go-go dancers? In costume?”
“They’ll be in their underwear.” Fon’s mouth drops open. “Nowhere to put a weapon. Just wet girls.”
“In my youth,” Chu says, “I was partial to wet girls.”
“I’ve looked at a few myself.”
“What then?”
“Then it’s Frank for Miaow and Ming Li for my share of the rubies.”
“Very tidy. And when we’ve finished our exchanges?”
“My people will be out of sight, out of range. Sitting in a car with the engine running. You’ll have everything, including Frank. You can have half a dozen guns on me, since shooting me won’t get you anything back. We say good-bye, and you leave.”
“Leaving is always the sticky part.”
“So I’ve heard.” He crosses his fingers. “What do you suggest?”
“I choose the place,” Chu says instantly, and Rafferty relaxes. “I’ll give you a general direction and call back a few minutes before you’re due, to tell you exactly where you’re going. Pradya will tell me where you are and who’s with you when I call. I’ll have people watching you arrive, just to make sure there aren’t a dozen cops behind you. If I see anything I don’t like, I kill the hostages, and you’ll never lay eyes on me.”
“
“Of course.”
“We could be walking into a setup.”
“Why would I set you up? This is business. I’m not going to kill all these people if I don’t have to. Bodies everywhere? That could come back to sting me. We Chinese come from villages, we live with hornets. We know better than to punch holes in the nest. I get what I want, you get what you want, and we shake hands. The hornets stay home.”
“I’m not happy about you choosing the place.”
“Think of it as an opportunity for greater understanding. Learning that you don’t actually run the world can be a valuable lesson. Perhaps we should both consider this interaction a step toward enlightenment.”
“Gee,” Rafferty says. “How can I say no to that?”
“You can’t,” Chu says. He hangs up.
Rafferty folds the phone and says, “Let’s pack the money.”
An hour later Lek says, “It’s going to be cold.”
“It was colder in the bar,” Fon replies. “Didn’t you bathe in the rain in your village when you were a kid? I remember waiting with my shampoo every time it got cloudy.” She has sacrificed the rubber bands in her hair to wrap money, so she roots through Mrs. Pongsiri’s box of scrunchies for a color she likes, a heavy twist of hair wrapped around her free hand. “Anyway, it’s for Rose.”
“Done,” Kosit says, carrying the suitcase into the room. Judging from the slump in his right shoulder, it’s heavy. “I only fastened one clasp because you’re going to need a hand free. Just remember to put it down flat. Keep the handle toward Chu.” He sets it carefully on the couch. “And if you pop the lever, don’t look down at it.”
“Is it going to work?”
“Fifty-fifty.”
“Jesus. Couldn’t you lie to me?”
“It’s foolproof,” Kosit says.
His cell phone rings.
“Kosit,” he says, and he looks up at Rafferty, and then his eyes bounce away. “Yeah, yeah. What’s he say?” He closes his eyes as though he is praying. “Fine,” he says at last. “Thanks for the call.”
Rafferty’s forehead is suddenly wet. “What?”
“He’s stable. They’re still worried about shock and infection, but if he makes it through the night, he’s got a chance.” He wipes the back of his hand roughly over his mouth. “I’d kill for a beer.”
“You don’t have to exert yourself. Got some in the refrigerator.”
“No. I’d pass out. I feel like I’ve been awake for a week.”
“We’ll have one later. Together. When this is over.”
“With Arthit,” Kosit says. “We’ll all go-” he says, but he’s cut off by his phone, which is ringing again. He pats his pockets frantically before realizing it’s still in his hand. “Kosit,” he says. He listens for a second and then says, “Fine.” He folds it, looks at it like it just materialized, and puts it in his shirt pocket, tapping it once so he’ll remember where he put it. “Car’s downstairs,” he says. “White Toyota, pulled out of the impound lot. No antennas, no fancy paint job. No super-duper ultra-
beam halogen headlights. Looks like every other car in Bangkok.”
Rafferty nods. “Ladies?”
For a moment he doesn’t think they heard him. The women sit absolutely still as the silence stretches out. Then Fon reaches into the front of her T-shirt. When her hand comes out, it has her Buddhist amulet in it. She puts it between her palms, presses her hands together in a praying position, and raises them to her face. She bows her head. One by one the other women repeat her movements. Last of all, Mrs. Pongsiri fishes inside her silk blouse and brings out a golden amulet on a heavy chain. She brings her hands around it and lowers her head. They sit there, five women whose lives have been almost impossibly difficult, and offer their prayers for Rose, Miaow, and Noi.
Rafferty puts his hand on his own amulet, the one Rose gave him, and then he bolts from the room. He closes the bathroom door behind him and lets the sobs rise up and escape. It feels like they’ve been battering at the door for days. When he can control his breathing again, he throws cold water on his face, scrubs himself dry, and goes back into the living room. Fon, Lek, and Kosit are waiting at the front door, Kosit holding the suitcase. Leung stands behind Pradya, a cautionary hand on his shoulder.
Rafferty picks up the box of rubies and says, “Time for the swap meet.”
42
The chalkboard nailed to the wall says speciasl of the weke. Below the misspellings, which are hand-lettered in what looks like indelible paint, the board is blank.
“I hope that’s not my week,” Frank says.
Rafferty says, “We’ll try to see that it isn’t.”
Ming Li sips a watery iced coffee and says, “How do you find these restaurants?” She puts the glass down, and the sound when it hits the table makes Pradya, seated across the restaurant with Leung, jump. Pradya is on the phone with Chu, letting him know they have Frank. His hand is cupped over the phone, but Leung has leaned forward to listen. He glances up at Rafferty and nods.
“I guess we’re on,” Frank says. His forehead is beaded with sweat. One leg jitters up and down beneath the table, providing a rhythm track to whatever is going through his head. He looks at the tabletop, dips a finger in the
