through his mind.
“Don’t go down with a sinking ship, or imagine to do so is a painful romantic tragedy.”
“I think I’ve heard enough.”
“Natasha has turned deceit into an art form.” Lewis’s face was almost earnest now; there was no sign of the indolent playboy leer Field had grown used to. “I’ve been here a long time, and I’m trying, again, to help. I saw your face the other night—”
“Perhaps you’ve been here too long.”
“Perhaps.”
“And I don’t need any help.”
“That’s up to you, but set aside romantic notions for a moment and consider the possibility that Natasha is not the victim you imagine.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lu is a powerful man. Through him, she wields power. Believe me. All the more so once rivals are eliminated. She’s a woman of ambition.”
Field thought of the way Natasha had sat, straight-backed, close to Lu in the nightclub—a possession.
“Perhaps they deserve each other,” Lewis said.
“How do you know about—”
“Fraser’s is the biggest company in Shanghai, Richard.” His look was hard now. “It’s my job to know.”
“So . . .”
“You are playing with fire, and you will be burned.”
“So I keep being advised.”
“Then you have friends who know the city and care about you.” Lewis shook his head. “It’s part of being a policeman, I know. It’s not a job for a man of breeding, and I’d like to bring you on board, but I can’t do that if you’re not going to exercise good judgment.”
“I don’t want to be on board.”
Lewis put his hat back on. “That’s your choice, Richard. But as things stand, I don’t give much for your chances of staying afloat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your uncle’s a good man, Field. But there is only so much I’ll do for him.” He lowered his voice. “For a man in his position, old Lu shows restraint on occasions, but not for much longer, I wouldn’t think.”
Thirty-five
The three of them waited in the middle car outside the factory. Macleod was beside the driver, Caprisi and Field in the back. The American had suggested they go on to see if the captain of the ship had returned from Blood Alley, but Macleod remained silent. It was hot, so Field wound down his window.
He knew what his colleagues were thinking.
“Does it go all the way to the top?” Caprisi asked. “Does Lewis know what is going on here?”
“It would fit,” Macleod said. “Lewis in business with Lu on the shipments, a highly profitable arrangement. Lu gives Lewis the girls as a bit of entertainment. It gets a little rough, but Lu cleans up behind him.”
Field watched a group of Chinese and Eurasian schoolgirls walking along the sidewalk. He turned back and took out his cigarettes. “Lewis must be the richest man in Shanghai. He doesn’t need the money.”
“Greed,” Macleod said. “The rich can be greedy, too.” He shook his head as Field offered him a cigarette. “But if the murders are down to Lewis, we will have to tread even more carefully.”
Field saw his own puzzlement reflected in Caprisi’s expression.
“He’s the taipan of Fraser’s, for Christ’s sake,” Macleod said.
“A few days ago,” Field said, “Lewis took me to a club—a brothel.”
“Which one?” Macleod asked.
“Delancey’s.” Field cleared his throat. “I extricated myself, but as I left I passed his room.”
“He was fucking someone.”
“There was a girl. A Chinese girl. She was handcuffed to the bed. She was screaming.”
“We’ll need more than that.” Macleod opened his door. “I’ll take the last car back to the office.” He slammed it shut and stalked off. Caprisi tapped the driver on the shoulder. “The wharf.”
As they moved away, Field said, “Why was he being so negative?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I thought we were all agreed.”
“Lewis isn’t one of his supporters, and putting him in the frame for murder . . .” Caprisi whistled quietly. “It’s not the best time for that, is it? Unless the evidence is overwhelming, which it isn’t. I’m not sure the Municipal Council is going to like one of its candidates for commissioner going after the most powerful businessman in
