The Red Pole of Macau

( 19 )

Ava stood to one side of the entrance to the helipad. There was hardly a customer in sight, a situation that would change when it got to Friday and the gamblers were anxious to make an early start.

She wore her best professional clothes: black linen slacks, pink Brooks Brothers shirt with modified Italian collar, crocodile stilettos; her hair was pulled back and secured with her lucky ivory chignon pin. She wore as little makeup as she could without looking washed out, just a touch of red lipstick and some black mascara. When she had met May Ling in Wuhan, the older woman had worn no jewellery, and Ava had mimicked her there. But not today — she had her gold crucifix around her neck and her Cartier Tank Française watch on her wrist. By Hong Kong princess standards, she looked almost like a pauper.

They appeared at the farthest end of the terminal, walking slowly side by side. Ava tried to figure out who was keeping up with whom. Uncle was in his black suit and open-necked white shirt. May Ling shone in the same pink and white Chanel skirt and jacket she’d worn when Ava met her for the first time in Wuhan. Was that deliberate? In any event, she looked stunning, and she walked gracefully, erect but flowing, without an iota of self-consciousness. Ava had never seen anyone so elegant and so intimidating at the same time. As she worked her way towards the gate, Ava noticed the attention May was drawing. There wasn’t a man she walked past who didn’t stop, turn, and stare.

Ava stepped forward so that she would be visible. Uncle gave a little wave, May a tentative smile. This is too awkward, Ava thought. She walked towards them, more purposeful than graceful, but drawing her own share of attention.

May Ling held out her hand. Ava moved past it, slipped her hand around May’s waist, and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. “Thanks for coming,” she said.

May was flustered. Uncle beamed. “You know what everyone is thinking? ‘What is that old man doing with the two most beautiful women in Hong Kong?’”

“The helicopter is leaving in five minutes. We’d better board,” Ava said.

“How long is the flight?” asked May.

“About fifteen minutes.”

“I called the General from the car. He’s sent someone to meet us at the Macau terminal and drive us to Zhuhai,” May said, calmer now.

“We have to go now,” Ava said to Uncle.

He stepped between them and then kissed each of them on the cheek. “Good luck.”

They were the only two passengers on the helicopter, and Ava thought that would give them a chance to talk. But as soon as the rotors kicked in, she knew she’d have to yell to be heard. May spent the flight looking out the window and occasionally glancing at Ava.

Ava remembered how anxious May had been in Wuhan, her eyes dull with worry, the skin around her mouth etched with lines. Now her face had taken on a younger, vibrant look. Her eyes were black orbs in a sea of pearl white, her skin taut, not a line, not a sag. She was in her forties at least, maybe even fifties, but if Ava had been paid to guess, she would have said late thirties.

There was one more obvious difference from Wuhan — her jewellery. May wore diamond stud earrings that had to be a carat each, a Movado watch with a large diamond at the twelve-o’clock mark, a ring with the largest diamond Ava had ever seen, and a delicate white nephrite jade bracelet. It was the bracelet that really caught Ava’s attention. The jade had been carved into small round beads that were separated by slivers of what looked like platinum. Ava knew the bracelet was rare, and probably old. It was so Chinese — if you had the taste to want it and the money to acquire it.

Macau appeared on the horizon and Ava braced as the helicopter began to descend. As it did she felt a rush of anxiety. An awful lot — perhaps too much — depended on one woman’s guanxi. She glanced at May Ling. Her face was completely impassive.

As they disembarked, Ava couldn’t help saying, “You’re wearing jewellery today.”

“In Wuhan I don’t have to impress anyone. When I travel, I have an image, there are expectations, and I don’t like to disappoint,” she said.

What looked like an army officer stood at the entrance to the helipad. He opened the door for them and then stepped back. “I’m Captain Kuo. General Feng sent me to meet you.”

“A pleasure, Captain,” May said.

“The car is outside. Please follow me.”

“How about Customs and Immigration?”

“No need.”

The two women slid into the back seat of the Lexus and the captain sat up front with the driver. “We’re going to meet the General at a restaurant. He thought, given the time, that lunch would be appropriate.”

“Wonderful,” said May.

The car took what to Ava was now a familiar route over the Friendship Bridge to Taipa and the causeway to Coloane. But instead of turning west towards the park, they went east. The Barrier Gate, the entrance to China proper, was in the distance. There was a lineup of buses, trucks, and cars that Ava knew would take hours to clear the border. She was thinking that they would be late for lunch when the driver pulled the Lexus to the far right and drove along the shoulder until they reached a lane marked Restricted, which led to a guard booth. Ava reached into her bag for her passport. The captain looked back at her and said, “No need.” The car drove through, the driver waving at the guard.

The two women hardly talked during the drive. Ava was comfortable with silence, and it seemed to her that May was as well.

Ava hadn’t been to Zhuhai. She knew it was the second of the Special Economic Zones set up by the Chinese government, hard on the heels of Shenzhen. But whereas Shenzhen had gone from being a town of twenty thousand to a city of ten million in twenty-five years — visually, culturally, and environmentally representing everything ugly about uncontrolled growth — Zhuhai had barely grown at all. Its population was just over one million, and it was more of a sleepy tourist destination than a boomtown.

They were somewhere near the centre of the city when Ava’s phone rang.

“I spoke to Lok,” Michael said.

“And?”

“We’ll make the exchange Friday afternoon, and he’s agreed to the Venetian.”

“You couldn’t get Saturday?”

“Ava, he blew up at me. He said the original deadline was Thursday. I had to argue with him for ten minutes to get him to agree to Friday.”

“I wasn’t being critical, Michael. Friday will just have to work.”

“It wasn’t easy.”

“I believe you.”

“And I got Simon’s photo. Physically he looks fine, just completely depressed.”

“That’s natural enough.”

“Ava, the money?”

“I’ll get the money,” she said sharply.

“And the exchange — I have no idea how something like that will work.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ll meet Friday morning and go over everything in detail. Did Lok say how he wanted the money?”

“No, actually he didn’t.”

“He will, if not today, then tomorrow. Knowing him, he’ll ask for cash. Tell him that’s difficult — we’d need about four suitcases — and ask if he’ll go along with a certified cheque.”

“What if he insists on cash?”

“Then we’ll find a way to do it. At least carrying a bunch of suitcases into a hotel lobby won’t look strange.”

“God, this is so complicated.”

“Michael, relax. Friday will be here before you know it and then this will be over.”

May threw her a quizzical glance. “My brother,” Ava said, as she put away her phone.

“He doesn’t know what your plans are?” May asked.

“No. He’s not much of a liar and he has to handle communication with Lok. I decided it would be better if he really believed we were going to pay.”

“Sounds like he needs his hand held.”

“Sometimes.”

“Typical. I mean, typical for a man.”

“This restaurant is very famous for its dim sum,” the captain interrupted as they drove past signs saying they were headed towards the Pearl River.

When they pulled up in front, they saw that the lineup had spilled onto South Lovers’ Lane. Is there a North Lovers’ Lane? Ava wondered. How about a West and an East? The captain led them past the throng and towards an army of hostesses. “The ladies are joining General Feng,” he said to the only woman in a cheongsam. And then he turned to May and said, “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

The restaurant was enormous, with a seating capacity of about two thousand. The hostess guided them through seating area after seating area to a section at the rear that had four private dining rooms. She knocked and waited. “Come in,” a voice said.

General Feng sat at the table with another young officer. They both leapt to their feet to greet the women. “Madam Wong, a pleasure,” he said. “This is Lieutenant Chao, my personal assistant.”

“And this is Ava Lee, my associate,” May said.

There was a brisk round of bowing and then they settled into their chairs, the General pouring the first round of tea. “General Zhao sends his regards,” said May.

“We were classmates and have been good friends and colleagues for thirty years,” Feng said.

There was a knock at the door and two servers came in, followed by a host in a tuxedo. “I hope you don’t mind, I ordered two specialties of the house — a soup made from black chicken and steamed squilla. The squilla is a particular favourite of mine.”

As the host ladled soup and portioned out the shrimp, Feng and May made small talk about Zhao. The host hovered as they tasted the soup. “It’s wonderful,” May said.

“Good, and now we’ll order some dim sum. Any preferences?”

“Order whatever you want, General. I trust your judgement,” May said.

When the staff had left, the room grew quiet as the soup and the squilla were shown due respect. May finished first; she had eaten only half of what she had been served. “General, our friend Zhao tells me you have a son studying in Shanghai,” she said.

“Yes, my only child, a fine young man. He has decided that economics and business are for him.”

“He is an undergraduate?”

“Yes.”

“And how is he doing at school?”

“His marks are outstanding.”

“I don’t know if Zhao has told you or not, but our company is always on the lookout for bright young graduates with an interest in business.”

“Well, that is my son’s interest.”

“And what are his plans after Shanghai?”

“He wants to go to business school in Australia, maybe Canada.”

“Would he consider the United States?”

“Why not?”

“I ask because our company has a relationship with the Stanford School of Business: we put one student a year into their post-graduate program. We pay the tuition fees and all their other expenses for as long as they are there. Of course, they have to commit to working at our company for at least two years after graduating. We naturally put them into a management position right away — the fast track — and then it’s up to them how far they progress. Not many of them ever leave our company.”

“That sounds very interesting,” Feng said.

“I wonder if you could mention this to your son.”

“I’d be pleased to.”

“You would be doing me a favour. Young men like him are our future.”

“I’ll be sure to do that, you can count on it.”

“Here,” May said, taking a business card from her purse. “Tell him to contact me directly. My personal number is there, and my email address.”

The first wave of dim sum arrived — chicken feet, har gow, and fried octopus.

“Now, Zhao tells me that you ladies have a small problem you need some help with,” Feng said as he held a slippery chicken foot an inch from his mouth.

“I’d like Ava to explain,” May said.

Ava sipped tea, watching Feng suck the skin and meat from one foot and then another, a small pile of bones growing on his plate. When she thought he was done, she said, “There’s a house in Coloane owned by a man named Kao Lok. We’re in the middle of a commercial dispute with him.” She paused. “Just how candid can I be?”

“Zhao told me the basics. I need to know the specifics.”

Ava passed a slip of paper to Feng. He looked at it and then slid it to Chao. “That is the address of the house. It has an alarm system that’s connected to the police force. I need the police to either ignore any alarm or disarm the alarm at their end for a few days.”

“When?”

“Say, starting tomorrow until Saturday night.”

Feng said to Chao, “A lot of the hotels, bigger businesses, and influential people on that side get the same service from the police. I find it offensive that they should get such preferential treatment.”

“Yes, sir,” Chao said.

“Is that all you want?” Feng said.

“Yes, General,” said Ava. “But it’s really important that this be kept confidential. We don’t want the resident informed that this has happened.”

“Call Chu,” Feng said to his assistant, and then turned to May. “How do you find the food?”

“Excellent, really excellent.”

Chao called from the table. He asked for Chu and then waited for several minutes, his impatience becoming increasingly apparent. These men are used to getting what they want when they want it, Ava thought. Finally he said into the phone, “Just a moment, General Feng wants to speak to you.”

Feng took the phone. “Excuse me, ladies, I need to go outside.”

He was gone for no more than five minutes. When he returned, he gave the phone to Chao and said to May Ling, “The alarm will be disconnected at the police end today. You have until Sunday.”

“Thank you.”

“If there is any problem, you call me. And if you can’t get me, call Chao. He’ll find me.”

“Thank you again.”

“Any friend of Zhao is my friend.”

May finally bit into her har gow. “Tell me about your wife, General. Zhao has so many nice things to say about her.”

For the next twenty minutes Ava watched as two masters of small talk kept each other occupied. Chao just listened as well, once in a while stealing a glance at Ava, his attention on her chest.

Five minutes after the last of the food had been consumed, Feng looked at his watch. “You have to excuse me now, ladies. I have to head back to the garrison. Kuo is waiting outside to drive you back to Macau.”

“Excuse me, General, but is it possible he could make a short stop on the way? There’s a company in Zhuhai we’d like to visit,” Ava said.

“Of course, we’ll let him know.”

They all stood and exchanged bows, but this time the General and May Ling also shook hands. Ava and May left the room first, walking side by side through the restaurant.

“That was wonderful. Thank you,” Ava said.

May Ling smiled.

“That Stanford program is really progressive on your part.”

“We don’t have a Stanford program. Or at least, we didn’t until now,” May said. “I spoke to Feng last night. He has one child, the son, and he loves him madly. The son wants to go to Stanford, and even on a general’s salary Feng can’t afford that. We’ll make it possible. I just hope the boy isn’t an idiot.”

“But then why — ?”

“Why come here?”

“Yes.”

“That little bit of theatre was for the benefit of the General’s assistant. Changxing and I have always been careful, and the more successful we are, the more careful we become. We take the time to learn the needs of our friends, and we try to meet them in a way that never compromises them or us. We can’t be too circumspect these days, especially when the government in Beijing seems to launch an anti-corruption campaign every six months or so. None of us wants to end up on our knees with a gun to the back of our head.”

Kuo was leaning on the car, speaking on the phone. He stood to attention when he saw them, putting the phone away. “I understand we’re making a stop?”

“Yes, at the Citadel Security Company. It’s in the new Hi-Tech Development Zone here in Zhuhai.”

“Maybe a ten-minute drive, not a problem.”

As they pulled away from the restaurant, May asked, “Why are we going there?”

Ava lowered her voice. “They built the gate at the house in Coloane. I have the specifications but I don’t understand them all that well. They tell me that a truck might be able to crash through. I need more details.”

“If any truck could, it would probably be the Volvo FH15, or better, the FH16,” May said.

Ava turned to her. “How do you know that?”

“We’ve been in the distribution business for twenty years, and distribution is all about trucks. We’ve owned thousands of them, and I did most of the buying and selling, so I had to know something. The Volvo FH16 is a relatively new model and it’s supposed to be the most powerful truck in the world. We own four of them. Seven hundred horsepower, tremendous torque, and it can carry an extremely heavy load. They are real brutes.”

“How much weight can it carry?”

“Thirty tonnes easily.”

“Su, the guy at Citadel, told me that I had to factor in power, weight, and speed. What speed could we generate with the Volvo?”

“What are the distances?”

“Well, from the highway there’s a side road. You can’t go much faster than about thirty kilometres an hour on it. It starts to straighten about a hundred metres from a clearing, and you could get the speed up to, say, forty or fifty. Once you hit the clearing you have a clear run of two hundred metres to the gate.”

“I would imagine the Volvo could get up to a hundred kilometres an hour, maybe even more.”

“Let me call Su,” Ava said, reaching into her bag for her phone.

“Mr. Su, I’m with our chairwoman,” Ava said. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to make the meeting, but we had one of our people look at your specifications and put together some theoretical situations. He seems to think that a Volvo FH16 truck, loaded with thirty tonnes and impacting the gate at a hundred kilometres an hour, would take it down. We’re curious as to your view.”

“Ms. Lee, a tank couldn’t cause more damage than a truck that size, carrying that weight, at that speed.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m familiar with the Volvo FH series, and yes, I’m sure.”

“Thank you. I’ll contact you as soon as we finalize our plans,” Ava said.

“Well?” May asked.

“Get one of those trucks to Macau.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Please.”

“I have to call Wuhan. I have no idea where they are right now.”

“And we’ll need a driver.”

“I have one in mind; his name is Song.”

Then Ava’s caution kicked in. “We need someone who knows how to keep his mouth shut,” she said. “And remember, there’s going to be a tremendous impact when the truck hits that gate. He has to be prepared to face that danger.”

“Song races sports cars, so collisions are nothing new for him. And he’s a nephew of Wife Number One, so I’m not worried about his mouth.”

“Okay.”

“Now let me call my logistics manager and see if we can track down a truck.”

“Ms. Lee, are we still going to Citadel?” the captain asked from the front seat.

Ava realized he’d been listening to their conversation. He must think we’re insane, she thought. “No, you can take us directly to the ferry terminal.”

They recrossed the border at the Gongbei Port of Entry, where the traffic lines were even longer than they had been at the Barrier Gate. The Lexus sped by, hardly stopping at the customs booth.

May was on the phone nearly the entire distance to the terminal, doing more listening and waiting than talking. Finally she said, “We’ll have to tag-team the truck. I don’t want Song getting here dead tired. Call me when they leave Wuhan, and make sure they check in with you or me if they have any problems at all.” She covered the mouthpiece and said to Ava, “Where do you want to meet the truck?”

“The Macau wharf is fine.”

May relayed the message.

“When will it arrive?” Ava asked.

“The truck is two hours from Wuhan. We have to pull it back into our yard, load it with thirty tonnes of whatever we have lying around, and then get it on the road. It’s a twelve-hundred-kilometre drive, so we’ll put two drivers on the truck. Barring any problems, it could be in Macau as early as noon tomorrow.”

“Does Song know my name?”

“Why is that necessary?”

“Well, I assumed you were flying back to Wuhan tonight.”

“No, I’m not. I’m staying over.”

“I didn’t see any luggage.”

“Uncle has it. I’ve booked a suite at the Mandarin. He’s taken it there for me.”

“I see.”

“I’ll be going to Macau with you too.”