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“The aphrodisiac?” David asked.
“Could be that, could be for skin fungus, muscle pain, or maybe a tiny bit fried with rice for cancer treatment. But you take only thirty milligrams”—Dr. Du pinched the end of his pinkie to show just how small a dose that would be—“and you are dead.”
“Symptoms?”
“Just what you have told me. Stomach hemorrhage, kidneys and liver melt away. Very painful. You hope you die! And who knows ban mao? The body comes in and it is in ugly chaos. Only a very fine doctor, maybe only ten doctors in all the world, would understand what they were looking at.”
“And you’d know from the damage to the organs?”
“No, no, no.” Dr. Du wagged his finger back and forth as a small smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. “I would know because the teeth and nails would turn black.”
“Just like Billy’s and Henglai’s,” David said.
Dr. Du’s full face broke into a broad smile and he once again clapped his hands in delight.
Hulan and David’s next stop was the Ministry of Public Security and a visit to Section Chief Zai. Despite his title, Zai’s office was as simple and unprepossessing as Hulan’s. He listened gravely as Hulan described finding Cao’s body, the subsequent discovery of his monetary records and passport, and the recent visit to Dr. Du. Occasionally, Zai shifted his attention to David, observing his reactions. Hulan had been warned not to let the big nose see anything unpleasant. A body with its guts spread across the room clearly violated this mandate.
“We have followed the information given to us,” Hulan explained. She related their interviews with Ambassador Watson and Guang Mingyun. When she mentioned that Guang Mingyun and her father may have been in the same prison camp in Sichuan Province, Zai didn’t seem particularly impressed. “Yes, your father and Guang Mingyun were at Pitao together. I was sent there, too, you know. Of course by then they had already left.”
To David’s eyes, Hulan appeared embarrassed by this last detail. “We now know that the boys’ lives were definitely intertwined,” she hurried on. “Cao Hua was my last hope for a free word. If we want more information, we will have to use alternate methods.”
“But the princes are not used to those,” Zai observed.
“I know, that’s why we came to you. Does the ministry want us to go back to the Gaogan Zidi? Do you want us to go back to the American ambassador?”
“Let’s think about the money,” Zai suggested. He turned to David. “Financial crimes are a new phenomenon in China, so we are not always prompt in spotting them. We can contact the Bank of China, which is the main commercial bank of our country. I am sure that officials there will cooperate and give us details on these two accounts.”
For the second time today, David asked, “Don’t you need a warrant?”
“The bank is state owned,” Zai said matter-of-factly. “We are entitled to that information.”
“Besides, we don’t have search warrants,” Hulan added.
“But I am less concerned with what we will find in the domestic accounts,” Zai continued, “than with where the money was going when it left our country. Could they have been playing with exchange rates?”
“They would need connections at the bank to do that,” Hulan said skeptically.
“You’re right. I don’t think that would happen. Too many people watching, too many official seals to obtain. They couldn’t move quickly enough.”
“And that kind of corruption brings a death sentence,” Hulan reminded him.
“I do not think the hooligan is afraid of the consequences. This is what worries me.”
“Why is that?”
“Why?” His tone showed surprise. “Too much profit is being made. By whom we don’t know. But we have already had three murders, Inspector. The question is not who do you interview next, but should you continue at all? These murders are terrible, but you have done your best. As for Attorney Stark—he is a lawyer. He is not an investigator. He came to China to help us, and he has. But perhaps we must accept the fact that the killer is too smart for us. He is probably triad—too clever, too slippery to be caught.”
“I didn’t come all this way to look the other way,” David interrupted.
“The killer has done you the courtesy of giving you and Inspector Liu a warning. I don’t think you will get a warning the next time.”
“You’re right. I’m just an attorney, not a professional investigator. I’m not immune to the horror of death. But I can tell you that you’re wrong to walk away from this.”
Zai considered, then asked, “What would you do, Mr. Stark?”
“From their passports we know Cao and Guang were going to L.A. regularly. We also know they kept large sums of money there. I want to know why, and I want to know how Billy was involved. I think that if we follow the money, the lives—and deaths—of those three will become clear.”
“Follow the money,” Zai mused, then considered. “Yes, yes, you are correct. This is exactly what you must do.”
