Page 67 of The Killer’s Mark

‘Why you want to bother her? She bloody old, like me. Confused.’

Poe studied the old man. ‘I don’t think you’re confused, sir. But I do think you should drop the Johnny Foreigner act. It’s unbecoming. I heard you talking to a customer when we came in, and you don’t speak like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘All the bloody this, bloody that bullshit.’

‘Why you want to talk to Mrs Jin?’

‘I told you, I want to find her son. He might have information I need.’ Poe took a punt. Bradshaw had given him a crash course in Chinese customs. She’d told him that when old people were treated with respect, aunt and grandmother or uncle and grandfather were used as honorifics. But – and this was the punt Poe was taking – if you were close to the person, Mr and Mrs were more acceptable. The old man had referred to Kai’s mother as ‘Mrs Jin’. If Bradshaw was right, the old man not only knew her, he was close to her.

‘What can you tell me about Kai, Grandfather?’ Poe said. He lowered his eyes. Something else Bradshaw had said he should do. Another sign of respect. ‘Because I think he’s involved with some triads. For some reason he tattooed the foot of a woman I’m looking for. I’m hoping he might be able to tell me about her.’

‘I don’t know this woman. I have nothing to tell you.’

That was fair enough, Poe thought. As far as the old man was concerned, Poe had brought triads into his ‘nice family restaurant’. It wasn’t the best way to earn someone’s trust. But maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe there was a workaround.

‘But if you did know her, maybe you could pass on a message?’

‘I bloody told—’

‘I think her son built up gambling debts with some nasty people. Triads. They forced him to do an incredibly intricate tattoo. I don’t yet know if this is an ongoing thing or a one-off, but I will find out. Tell Mrs Jin that if she looks me up on the internet, she’ll see I might be able to help her son. And if you need someone to vouch for me, Kai can get in touch with a certain lady with long grey hair. Someone he knew from art college. I won’t give you her name, but he’ll know who I mean.’

The old man dismissed the bug-eyed waiter, then snapped something in Chinese. Another waiter hurried over.

‘Royal Banquet, this table. No charge.’

‘And don’t forget the beers,’ Esmerée added.

The old man spun on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen.

‘What the hell just happened, Poe?’ Esmerée asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Poe admitted. He picked up the menu. Found the Royal Banquet. It was the most expensive thing the Szechuan Palace did. Curious.

The waiter came over. He was carrying a tray with their beers and a bottle of sparkling water. He put down the beers and left. Esmerée took a drink of the Nanny State and grimaced.

‘Gross,’ she said. ‘I dunno how you drink this shit, Poe.’

‘Practice.’

She frowned. Looked like she wanted to say something.

‘Out with it, Esmerée,’ Poe said.

‘Why’d you say you were my dad?’

‘Because Dongyang Dong—’

‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘It’s the name of the guy with the boss-eyed dragon tattoo on his hand.’

‘That’s his name? Jeez. I wonder if he gets called Dong-Dong?’

‘Probably,’ Poe said. ‘Anyway, this guy knew who I was but he didn’t know who you were. Why is that?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m forgettable?’