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“We need to find Alison.” He paused. “We find her, Angel won’t be far away.”
“Agreed,” Mo-bot said. “He’ll have flown the apartment by now, but he has to stay close to his hostage. She must be somewhere near to where we were.”
“He give you any proof of life?” Sci asked Rafael.
“I get to speak to her once a day.”
“Then she’s definitely alive. Let’s find her, save her, and catch this guy,” Sci said. He glared at Rafael. “Then you’re going to answer for what you’ve done.”
CHAPTER 40
“THIS ISN’T THE kind of place I’d expect to find street criminals,” I said as Zhang Daiyu and I crossed a broad plaza.
It was mid-morning and we were in the financial district of Beijing, near its economic heart, heading for the Liu Investments building, which could only be described as an architectural marvel. Constructed from glass, steel, and composite materials, the silver structure stood twenty storys high, shaped like an eye with curved steel edges that glittered in the hazy morning sunshine. It wasn’t the largest building in the district, but it was the one that most easily caught the imagination. It was situated in a landscaped plaza with gently contoured walkways, clearly designed to be the focal point.
Zhang Daiyu and I had returned to the workers’ hostel and slept for a few hours, me on the floor, her in the bed, before resuming our investigation. On the drive over, she had briefedme on what she knew about Liu Bao, the man who’d once been the underworld boss of Wang Yichen, the guy I’d shot at Molly Tan’s apartment. Liu had started out as a street criminal, which was where she’d first encountered him. He’d been implicated in the drugs trade, but was clever and slippery. Zhang Daiyu and her colleagues had never been able to build a case against him. He quickly climbed the ladder to become a gang boss—a combination of ruthlessness, intelligence, and a reputation for honoring his word led to his stratospheric rise. Liu Bao had transformed himself from street thug to moneyed villain. He now owned an investment firm that made risky, highly speculative bets around the world, but Zhang Daiyu suspected the business was just a front to launder money from Liu’s criminal activities, which she believed had now expanded to include international arms dealing. Zhang Daiyu suspected Liu Bao was protected. She didn’t see how someone so obviously crooked could rise so high without some powerful guardian angels.
“This is exactly where you will find gangsters,” she told me, gesturing to the skyscrapers that surrounded us. “And monsters. Criminals have always been attracted to money and there is much more of it here than there is on the street.”
She was right, of course, and I nodded as we entered the Liu Investments building. Security was very obviously tight, with manned gates, metal detectors, and an X-ray machine blocking the path to the elevators. We went to a long wooden reception desk that lay to our right and Zhang Daiyu spoke to the receptionist, who smiled, nodded, and gestured toward a seating area beside anindoor lily pond filled with koi. Half a dozen security guards in beige suits were posted around the place, eyeing staff and visitors.
We sat in silence, watching a soundless video on a huge wall display. It showed inspirational scenes of people at work, dramatic Chinese landscapes and images from industrial manufacturing processes. Glossy and well produced, it was all style over substance. The Liu Investments logo appeared at the end.
After a few minutes, a woman in a white blouse and green pencil skirt came to greet us.
“Mr. Morgan, Detective Zhang Daiyu, Mr. Liu will see you now.”
She took us through security and we rode an attended glass elevator to the twentieth floor, passing through the very center of the eye. There was no chit-chat, although our guide did smile at us politely throughout. Distant, but not cold.
We emerged into a large seating area that was open to both sides of the building, offering dual-aspect views of the city. There were two women dressed similarly to our guide at desks near some imposing double doors. They looked up but didn’t smile as our guide took us through into Liu Bao’s office. He had the same magnificent dual view of the city, but his office was much larger than the lobby where his assistants worked. There were three separate seating areas, each with leather couches and chairs, a boardroom table, sculptures, traditional Chinese art. Behind a huge desk that stood midway between the two glass sides of the building was Liu Bao.
He said something to our guide, who withdrew, then he stood and came toward us.
“I would offer you a drink but you would only refuse, perhaps thinking it was laced with some toxin or other.”
He smiled in a way that made it impossible to tell whether he had just made a joke or a threat.
Money could solve a lot of problems but it couldn’t solve Liu Bao’s biggest challenge, which was that even in this opulent, impressive space he reeked of violence and death. His nose had been broken in the distant past and he hadn’t bothered with corrective surgery. His muscles shifted like a wary animal’s under the camouflage of his black tailored suit. His eyes were as dead and empty as an ancient haunted house, as though nothing in the world could ever bring him joy.
I knew a pitiless sociopath when I saw one.
“I’d offer you a seat but you probably wouldn’t take that either.” Liu Bao drew closer to me. “You are a very proud man, Mr. Morgan.”
I knew he was trying to test me, maybe goad me, but I was wise to his game.
“We ran into an old pal of yours … Wang Yichen,” I said.
I didn’t expect a reaction and he didn’t give me one.
“It doesn’t matter how long I spend on the right side of the law, some people will always see only my past.” He looked pointedly at Zhang Daiyu. “I have put it behind me. I wish others would too. I haven’t seen Wang Yichen in many years.”
Zhang Daiyu responded with a single scornful word.
“You can call me a liar if you wish, but that doesn’t affect the truth of my statement,” Liu Bao said. “And truth is what matters. You work for this man now. You are not a police officer anymore.You work for a private citizen. An American. And like America, his power rests on his ability to convince people he is powerful. It is a trick of the mind. When you realize a country that has lost in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan cannot be powerful, you understand why they want you to believe a lie.”
“Power comes in many forms,” I said. “It doesn’t have to stem from fear.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” Zhang Daiyu told Liu Bao sharply. He just smiled. “You’re old school. A believer in Chinese might and the supremacy of the party. You represent a dying belief system. The people want rights along with responsibilities.”
