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“You hear a lot of negatives about the dam, especially from the tree huggers back home,” Stuart yelled over the din. “But those fuckers are talking out of their asses. What’s the loss of a dolphin compared with the health issues that will be helped once the dam is completed? Pulmonary disease is the number-one cause of death in China. Did you know that, Inspector? China’s also the second highest producer of regional acid rain and transglobal greenhouse gases.”

Neither of these facts surprised Hulan given the quantity of cigarettes that people smoked along with the coal that was used as the primary energy source for the entire country.

“So you see,” Stuart said, pausing for a moment to stress his point, “the dam will significantly reduce China’s reliance on fossil fuels, help the country move to a low-carbon economy, and give the nation a way to live up to its global obligations to reduce harmful emissions.”

Men were such strange creatures, Hulan thought. She’d arrived unannounced on Stuart’s doorstep, so to speak, and all he could talk about was the dam in pseudotechnical jargon. On the other hand, what was he supposed to talk about? Brian? Lily? The thefts? They were standing at the site of the “most ambitious engineering project in the history of the world.” Why wouldn’t Stuart brag? And why wouldn’t he do it in the technical language he knew best?

She needed to look beyond her preconceived notions. She’d lumped Stuart Miller in the same category as David’s father—an international entrepreneur and astute businessman. Yet Stuart, who by all rights should have been behind an executive-size desk in the penthouse suite of a skyscraper somewhere, was literally down in the trenches here at Sandouping. At the same time, the man had money and wasn’t shy about using it for creature comforts. He had his hydrofoil. He had his art collection. Here on the site, he had a luxury far more plebeian: a fleet of nine trailers, each with the Miller Enterprises logo emblazoned on the side, lined up in three rows.

Stuart took her into his office trailer. The interior was outfitted in the sumptuous materials of a private jet. Nothing could completely block the construction noise, but soundproofing had buffered it down to a dull throb, and an air conditioner had cooled the air by at least thirty degrees to a refreshing seventy-five.

“I thought you collected guis and ruyis,” Hulan said, tipping her head in the direction of a Ming Dynasty teak étagère filled with exquisite museum-quality porcelains.

“They’re my special interest, but I have others.” Stuart moved behind his desk and gazed at his collection. “Back home I have some amazing Shang Dynasty bronzes—mostly ritual vessels.”

“Bronzes? Like Lily’s tripods?”

“Not Lily’s. Da Yu’s. It’s said he made them with his own hands. If that’s so and if they were bronze, then China’s Bronze Age would have to be pushed back quite a ways.” Seeing her incomprehension, he explained, “The introduction of bronze is by definition the beginning of culture.”

He turned back to his artifacts. “But why limit yourself to dates and medium when there’s so much beauty to be found? I collect widely myself—jade, ceramics, and some, though not a lot, of Ming Dynasty Buddhist figures. Those kinds of things are very popular right now. I recently let Lily put up one of my Buddhist sculptures for auction. I didn’t love the piece, so I sold it and used the hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars to buy some other things that I’ll probably keep forever.”

She noticed that his voice had dropped to a hoarse whisper. It struck her that this must be what he sounded like when he made love. These bits of bronze and porcelain and stone had laid claim to his heart.

“Do you go to a lot of auctions? Are you going to the one tonight at Cosgrove’s?”

Stuart ignored the question, and she let it pass for now. It was important to let a man like Stuart believe he was leading the discussion. The more in control he felt, the more he would reveal.

“You have to surround yourself with things you love,” he said. His hand gently caressed a blue-and-white plate with a stylized white melon pattern. “Of course I’ll have to sell these when the dam is finished and I leave China for good. But as long as I have this trailer as my home base, I get to enjoy them, maybe even more than if I had them back in L.A. or my place in Hong Kong. Outside everything is raw and rough and mechanical.

But in here, I just see the quiet simplicity of the pieces.”

He clapped his hands, signaling he was done with this. His voice jumped a register as he told her to take a seat. He sank down into a chair covered in soft beige suede, hit the intercom button, and ordered tea. Then he turned his full attention to Hulan. “So why the visit?”

“Have you or your daughter had any contact with the All-Patriotic Society?”

“You asked me that yesterday.”

“And I’m asking again.” She told him how vehemently the All-Patriotic Society opposed the dam and what it would mean to the Three Gorges’ cultural heritage, and that he seemed to embody everything the group despised. Stuart, however, didn’t seem surprised by either the animosity or the fact that he’d been named.

“My position here at the dam has been publicized across the country. I’m a presence on the river, and my hydrofoil makes me even more so.”

“Nevertheless,” she said, “I’m concerned for your safety.”

“Look where I am, Inspector. This place has security up the ying-yang.”

“Maybe this isn’t about the dam but is about something more personal. Yesterday I learned some new information about how Brian and Lily were killed. It seems likely the same person murdered them. You might be the connection.”

“Do you think I’m next?” The idea amused him. “Like some murder-on-the-Yangzi Agatha Christie novel?”

“You financed Brian’s work at Site 518,” Hulan went on, “and you did business with Lily. You could say that they were both at the dig because of you.”

His chuckling abruptly stopped. “Wait a minute. Are you making me for the next victim or the killer?”

She gazed at him steadily, curious where he’d go next.

“Look, Brian could have gotten his fellowship from any number of sources, and you wouldn’t have to look very far to learn that I do business with many auction houses and dealers.” He foundered. “Yes…. Well…. Do I need a lawyer?”

“If you feel you need one.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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