Golden Buddha

are available now. If the account is not accessed within one year of today, the funds will automatically bounce back to one of our banks. The second you make a deposit or withdrawal, however, within the next year the computer erases all traces of where the money came from or would go to.”

“Why one year?” Spenser asked.

“Because,” Cabrillo said, “in the financial shape you’re in, if you don’t touch the money in a year, it’ll be because you’re dead.”

Spenser nodded.

Next, Cabrillo handed Spenser a folder with a plane ticket. “Hong Kong to Dubai, then on to Paraguay, first class. It’s the first available flight tomorrow morning.”

Spenser took the ticket.

“Here is ten thousand dollars in U.S. currency,” Cabrillo said, handing Spenser an envelope. “Any more will arouse suspicions.”

Spenser took the envelope.

“That concludes our agreement, Mr. Spenser,” Cabrillo said. “We have called a cab to take you where you want to go. It will be pulling up at the side of the ship in a few minutes.”

The guard stood up and waited for Spenser to rise. Cabrillo started for the door.

“Can I ask you a question?” Spenser said.

Cabrillo had just opened the door. He stopped, turned and nodded.

“This all seems a little too perfect,” Spenser said. “What’s the catch?”

“You still have to make it to Hong Kong,” Cabrillo said as he walked through the door.

ON the Oregon’s rear deck, George Adams waited as a landing pad on the fantail rose up to deck level. A hard rain was raking the deck and the winds were a steady twenty knots from east to west. He turned to Tom Reyes.

“Once the deckhand locks the lift in place, we need to rotate the whirlybird into the wind,” he said. “Then I’m going to need to make a hot takeoff into the wind.”

Reyes nodded and watched as another deckhand rolled a metal cart containing several boxes near the lift. The elevator operator signaled that the lift was locked, and Adams and Reyes walked over.

The Robinson R-44 helicopter was a medium-sized piston-engine craft with a top speed of just over 130 miles an hour. The weight was 1,420 pounds, the horsepower of the power plant 260, and the cost was about $300,000.

The two men attached ground-handling wheels, spun the ship around, then removed the wheels and handed them to the deckhand.

“We distributed the dye into plastic baggies like you ordered,” the deckhand noted.

Adams nodded and turned to Reyes. “Keep the box at your feet, but away from the foot pedals. I’ll take us down as low as we can safely go, but the ride will be touchy because of the wind.”

“I understand,” Reyes said.

Adams did a quick walk around the helicopter, checking fuel oil and general condition, then motioned to Reyes. “Hop in,” he said, “and we’ll get this show on the road.”

Once both men were in the seats, Adams reached down and ran through the preflight checklist. Once he was done, he screamed “Clear” out the window and engaged the starter. Once the engine had fired and the clutch was engaged, the rotor blades started slowly spinning, then gathered speed until the helicopter was shaking and vibrating. Adams watched the gauges closely, and when the engine was warmed and everything had settled down, he spoke through the headset microphone to Reyes.

“Hold on, Tom,” Adams said, “this will be like a giant jump.”

Neutralizing the cyclic, Adams quickly lifted the collective and the tiny bird left the pad. A second later, Adams eased the cyclic forward and the helicopter nosed over into the wind, rising and moving forward at the same time.

Clear of the Oregon, Adams flew directly into the wind. Heading offshore a distance, he then started to angle back toward Macau. Around the knee of his flight suit was a strap with a metal clip, and in the clip was a folded slip of paper showing the locations of the storm sewer outflows.

“There we go,” Adams said, spotting the dirty water where a pipe spilled into the bay.

Reyes reached down in the box, removed a baggie, slid the top open partway, and then tossed it out the small window opening in the passenger door. It tumbled through the ten feet from the helicopter to the water and began to spread out like blood from a rare steak.

In the distance, a police boat heard the noise from the helicopter but it could not make it out in the rain. Adams moved the helicopter up the line, salting the water on the east side of Macau. Then he steered around the end of the peninsula between Macau and Taipa to repeat the exercise.

DETECTIVE Po parked in front of the headquarters of the Macau Police Department, then walked through the rain toward the front doors. In the east, the sky was lightening some, but the rain continued on unabated.

Entering the building, he rode the elevator up to Rhee’s floor, then exited the elevator and walked down the hallway. Upon reaching the reception area, he instantly knew that there was trouble afoot. The U.S. consular agent, the mayor of Macau, a Chinese general and four reporters were clustered around a man dressed entirely in black.

“This isn’t a case of shoplifting,” the man in black said loudly. “They’ve stolen a Boeing 737, for God’s sake.”

It had been a case of blind luck for the software billionaire. Still refused a telephone call, he had been brought to headquarters to be questioned by Rhee in his office. As soon as they had entered the office, however, the