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“Mr. Ambassador,” David said heavily, “your son wasn’t in college. He hadn’t attended for two years.”
“You’re wrong,” he retorted.
“I’m afraid not. Inspector Liu and I checked USC’s records.”
“But I wrote the checks…”
“To the school or to Billy?” Hulan asked.
Watson turned his eyes to her. “To Billy,” he rasped. “Oh, my God, to Billy.” The color drained from his face. For the first time since she had met him, Hulan saw a father devastated by grief.
“Your son…” David cleared his throat and began again. “Your son traveled to China every couple of months. Were you aware of that?”
“No! Billy only came home for Christmas vacation and a quick visit in the summer.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ambassador, but your son spent a lot of time in China. He usually traveled with Guang Henglai.”
“The other dead boy?”
“The son of Guang Mingyun. That’s correct.” David hesitated. “We believe he also traveled with some other people.” He pulled out the list of suspected couriers and handed it to the ambassador. William Watson’s hand trembled as he scanned the list. “These people all had their visas stamped here at the embassy.”
“I’m at a loss to explain that.”
The time had come to tell the ambassador the truth about his son. As David explained the smuggling of bear bile and his suspicion that Billy Watson was involved, the ambassador repeated, “It can’t be true. None of this can be true.”
“Inspector Liu and I are working against the clock,” David said, then explained the situation with Spencer Lee. “I know it’s short notice, but is there any way you can have a few trusted people look into the passport irregularities? We think it’s crucial to the crimes and you’d be saving a man’s life.”
“No way, not ever,” Watson spat out. “Lee has been convicted of killing my son. He’s going to pay.”
> The more David and Hulan tried to tell Watson he was wrong, the more adamant he became. But David held his ground: “I can get an order from the State Department. Then you’ll have to start an investigation of the visas.”
“By that time,” the ambassador grated, “my son’s murderer will be dead and all this will be over.”
Phil Firestone came in to say that the president was on the phone.
“We’ll have to continue this later,” the ambassador said.
“One more thing before we go,” Hulan said, rising. “Your son was in business with Guang Henglai. Are you sure you knew nothing about that?”
William Watson’s normally rugged face had crumbled into an old man’s. “I don’t know what to say, Inspector. I guess I didn’t know my son very well.”
Firestone said urgently, “Mr. Ambassador? The president?”
As David and Hulan headed for the door, Ambassador Watson—his finger poised to hit the button on the phone that would bring him the president’s voice—made a last request. “Please don’t tell my wife about this. Elizabeth’s been through so much. It would just kill her.”
18
FEBRUARY 11
The Crossroads
David and Hulan arrived at the China Land and Economics Tower at nine the next morning. A secretary promptly escorted them into Guang’s overheated office. Tea and sweetmeats were served. Guang had, of course, heard about the arrest and trial of Spencer Lee.
“I am forever in your debt,” he told them. “If there is anything I can ever do for either of you, I would be honored to do it. Please let me begin by hosting a banquet in celebration of your triumph.”
“Before you do that, Mr. Guang, we have a few more questions,” Hulan said.
“But the hooligan is arrested. He will be executed.”
