“Reason?” Jack says.
“If there’s any relevant message at all in this case, it’s highly confusing. You have a crazed killer whose life was destroyed by a medical procedure and who, in a jealous rage, murdered a high-level Chinese banker with strong connections in Beijing. That’s going to be how the media present it and how the public receives it: the human/sensational angle. It’s going to be hard to present the Colonel as a clear hero saving the country from the evils of organ trafficking. Mixed messages are always big trouble. I say we either get an organ-trafficking story with clear unambiguous lines, or we dump organ trafficking altogether as a campaign theme. After all, the Colonel’s way ahead in the polls-we don’t need any complications.”
“Do we know anything about the bank this Mr. To worked for?” Jack says.
“An old-style merchant bank that was big on the mainland, then fled to Hong Kong after the revolution, then mended ties with Beijing and became one of its unofficial commercial arms,” Linda says. “They are strongly connected to the Ministry of Correctional Services, which has been buying up a lot of real estate in Beijing and renting it out as office and residential accommodation. We think the ministry uses its real estate portfolio as collateral to borrow money from this bank at very low rates of interest.”
“That would give them an edge,” Ben says.
“Anyway, are we all agreed about Linda’s point?” Jack says. “The detective here keeps his investigation under strict wraps until after the election? Or preferably, stops investigating until the Colonel is governor?”
“Too right,” Ben says.
The three Americans look at Vikorn, who says nothing. The atmosphere has subtly changed. Something has triggered a new hostility from Linda and Ben toward Jack, who looks uneasy. We remain silent until Linda coughs. We all look at Linda.
“Ah, I’m afraid I have to ask a question, Jack,” she says. “The preamble to the question is that from what I know of Correctional Services in Beijing, they don’t get involved in small stuff.”
“Right,” Ben says.
“I mean, these are smart, ambitious cadres turned masters of the universe. They don’t much care who runs Bangkok. These guys shoot for gold.”
“Right,” Ben says.
“I have no idea where you’re going with this, Linda,” Jack says, avoiding her stare.
“Where I’m going with this, Jack,” Linda says with a crack in her voice, “is to point out that of the three of us, you are the one with strong, high-level ties with that ministry. ’Cause what I don’t want is a repeat of the Sierra Leone thing and those blood diamond allegations that came just a little too close for comfort.”
“Right,” Ben says.
Now I understand that the balance of power has mysteriously shifted. Jack is rubbing a hand on one of the arms of his chair.
“I don’t need the money, Jack,” Linda says. “I didn’t lose fifty million when Lehman collapsed and another twenty million with Madoff.”
“Me either,” Ben says.
“I stayed in cash, then bought gold,” Linda says. “You do see where I’m going here, Jack? Me and Ben here, we’re not desperate for the dough.”
“I hear you,” Jack says.
“Getting a third-world cop elected as governor of a little city nobody worries much about is one thing. Promising to take him all the way to leader of a country on behalf of a certain Beijing ministry with seriously powerful rivals in other ministries-I don’t want to be on the Red Army’s hit list.”
“Me either,” Ben says.
“Or worse, the hit list of one of the PRC police consortia.”
“I hear you,” Jack says.
“Next thing you know, we have the Yips up our asses.”
“They’re with Correctional Services,” Jack says. “They would be on our side in that scenario.”
“They’ve also done work for the police and army,” Ben says.
“Not to mention regional bosses,” Linda says.
“Look,” Jack says, “I got the message. If I have instructions to take the Colonel higher, I’ll do it on my own, okay?”
“Just so long as that’s clear to everybody,” Linda says.
“I’ll second that,” Ben says.
Silence. The eruption of aggression and distrust seems to have made them feel more at home. “So, who’s going to check out this Inspector Chan?” Jack says.
Jack and Linda look at Ben.
“Okay,” Ben says.
“And we need something real on the Yips,” Jack says, recovering authority. “Ben and I tried to wake up our old contacts in the Company, but nothing doing. We need updating. I had no idea they’d gotten so big. Either the Company or the Bureau must know about them.”
“Okay,” Linda says.
The three of them stand on a common impulse and leave the room. Now it’s Vikorn and me alone together.
Silence. “So, are you aiming to run the country? Is that what this is really all about?” He doesn’t answer. “Nobody really figures you for governor-it doesn’t make sense. You make more on heroin than you ever would peddling city construction contracts. Prime minister, though-I can see that might be a temptation. Is that the deal you have with Beijing?” He stares at me. “Which ministry is behind you?”
I shrug and get up to leave. When I’m at the door, he says: “Would you prefer Zinna?”
I stop short. “What?”
“There’s been a last-minute addition to the candidate list. Check the lampposts tomorrow.” Vikorn pauses to look at me. “He even has counselors. Two Americans. A man and a woman. They’re said to have got people elected to high office in Africa somewhere. And, of course he’s very well in with the Ministry of Correctional Services in Beijing.”
“Who are his advisers? Ex-CIA?”
“Ex-World Bank.”
I stare at him for a moment, shake my head, and turn the doorknob.
“What’s your next move?” Vikorn says when I’m nearly out the door. He beckons me back in. I close it again.
“Next move? With regard to what? How can any cop investigate a case of triple homicide when my own boss doesn’t give a damn because it isn’t going to affect his election chances because he’s given up on organ trafficking as a campaign theme? Anyway, we know who did it. If I arrest Manu, Zinna will go ballistic-is that what you want?”
“It’s become important that you find out more,” the Colonel says, making eye contact for the first time since I got back from Phuket.
“May I ask why?”
“I have a feeling someone in China has become aware of you. If they call, follow up on the contact.”
I shake my head, shrug, get up to leave. At the door he stops me with a cough. He taps his nose. “I wouldn’t let on to other detectives in other lands that you’ve found out who pulled the trigger-you know how lazy cops can get when they’re certain who done it. There are depths to this thing designed just for you.”
“Ah, okay.”
“In fact, how about we make it an order. You don’t tell anyone about the whore’s evidence.”
“Yes, sir.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I nod knowingly, leave, and close the door behind me. Then I count to ten, and on one of those impulses born of long intimacy with an alpha personality, I silently turn the handle and open it a crack. Yep, there he is, the master of the universe, standing at his window puffing on a Churchill cigar.
