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“What if it’s in the blood—”
“And even if for some strange reason,” David spoke right over her, “he grows up to be some mad rapist hatchet murderer, I will always love him and his mother no matter what.”
Hulan buried her head back into his chest.
After a moment she said, her voice brave, “Who says it’s a boy anyway?”
They were awakened several hours later by the front gate buzzer. Hulan got up and put on her robe. David pulled on jeans and tennis shoes. Together they made their way through the various courtyards, lit only by the beam of Hulan’s flashlight. She pulled back the bolt to the front gate, opened the door a crack, and found Governor Sun Gan standing on the step. Hulan opened the door just enough to put her head out into the alley. She looked both ways. The alley was deserted, but in another hour her neighbors would begin to rise with the pre-dawn light. She held the door open and said, “Come in.”
Sun stepped over the old imperial threshold, saw David bare-chested in his jeans, extended his hand, and said smoothly, “I’m sorry to call so late. I hope you will forgive me.”
David shook the governor’s hand, and together they followed Hulan back through the courtyards to the main living quarters. Hulan motioned for Sun to sit, then put water on for tea. Sun watched Hulan, then leaned forward and whispered to David, “I think we should speak alone. I’m not here as a guest but as your client.”
Hulan nodded, and David and the governor ducked outside to sit on two porcelain stools close enough to the house so that they might have light from the window.
“Have you had a chance to look at what I sent you?” Sun asked.
“Yes,” David said cautiously, ready for the confession he didn’t want to hear.
“They show deposits in the bank accounts of several businesses.”
“I know.”
“Those papers were sent to my office here in Beijing along with a note suggesting I check my personal accounts. The accounts on those papers are the same as my personal accounts. I think someone is trying to make it look like I’ve accepted payments from Knight.”
“And you’re saying you haven’t?”
Sun let his breath out heavily. “Those are not my accounts. They aren’t my papers. And that certainly isn’t my money.”
“It’s a little late for an outright denial—”
“You have to believe me!”
David regarded Sun. Any pretext at his being a polished politician was completely gone now, but it could have been an incredible act.
“If they aren’t your accounts, whose are they?”
“What I mean is, the numbers match my accounts, but the balances are not mine. That’s the problem. I want you to know that I went to my bank here and wired my banks in America. My accounts show the proper numbers.” He unfolded several pieces of papers. “See? These are my accounts and my actual balances. You can use these to prove my innocence.”
But instead of looking at the papers, David glanced at his watch. It was 3:10 in the morning. “I thought we had a meeting tomorrow at ten. Couldn’t this charade have waited until then?”
“Charade? What is that word?”
“Didn’t you send me those reports so that when I discovered that you’d accepted bribes—and not just a little bit of money, but hundreds of thousands of dollars—that I wouldn’t be able to turn you in because you were my client?”
“Is that what you think?”
“Isn’t it the truth?”
“No.” Sun thrust his papers at David. “Just look at these.”
David took them reluctantly. From the light of the window he could see that Sun’s balances were quite modest. “This means nothing to me,” David said. “You could have moved the money—”
“But I’m an honest man.”
“Then you’ve never accepted money from Knight International?”
“That’s right.”
