This is actually a Shanghai thing, running errands on the street in your pj’s, something the government campaigned against during the Shanghai Expo last year because it’s “uncivilized,” but the campaign doesn’t seem to have affected things much. Somehow I wouldn’t have expected Lucy to do it, though. Hers are the kind both men and women wear, two-piece blue silk with white piping.
“Oh, hi,” she says when she sees me. “I thought I should get us something to drink.”
Sounds good to me.
Lucy is sitting cross-legged on her couch, wineglass in hand. She leans forward like she can’t quite believe it. “He kidnapped your mother?”
“Well, not exactly, but… kind of.”
I’ve told Lucy the Twitter version. A girl died at a party, Sidney wants to know if one of his kids is involved, and chief murder suspect Tiantian’s uncle-in-law is a scary-powerful government official.
And yeah, that Sidney kind of kidnapped my mom.
“Or he’s protecting her. It’s not totally clear.”
“What are you going to do?”
I shrug. “Go down there. I’ll call Sidney to arrange for a ride, and he’ll let my mom and her friend leave.”
Lucy looks genuinely worried. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“It’s a terrible idea. I just don’t happen to have a better one.”
We both drink a few sips. Some Australian wine you see here a lot that’s on the lower end of overpriced.
“This is really a bad situation,” Lucy murmurs.
I look around Lucy’s apartment. It’s not a huge space; it’s an old building with low ceilings, but the way it’s remodeled and decorated-whitewashed walls with a few pieces of art, a comfortable couch, some cheerful clutter-it’s really nice. The wall facing the street is almost all a grid of glass-paned shutters and doors. Right now they’re shut, covered up by thin white curtains.
I’m thinking I shouldn’t have come here.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have kept you away from Sidney. You don’t want to be connected with him. He… he does stuff.”
Lucy waves a hand. “I asked you to introduce us. He’s a billionaire who buys a lot of art. Those are the customers who keep this business afloat. Some of them aren’t the most pleasant people, to be honest.”
“I guess.”
“Are you really going to call him?”
I nod. “There’s nothing else to do.”
She suddenly straightens up. “Well, you should rest here awhile first. You look tired.”
That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.
“Take a shower if you want,” Lucy continues. “Maybe I have some extra pajamas.”
I feel like I should argue, but I’m too wiped out.
“Thanks,” I say. “That sounds great.”
I don’t take a long shower, but it’s enough time to think about the things I didn’t tell Lucy. Like about John. And about Celine, and her blog, and that offshore company.
When I come out of the shower, dressed in my jeans and a clean T-shirt, in case I need to make a quick exit, Lucy is brewing some tea at her kitchen bar.
“There are some other things,” I say.
“Oh, please don’t tell me that.”
Like she can cope with a murdered girl and a crazy billionaire, but one more thing might be stretching her patience.
“First off… Jianli says he’s coming to Beijing.”
Lucy draws back. “Why?”
“I don’t know. He wants to do some kind of performance piece.”
“But that’s a terrible idea,” she says, and she’s somewhere between shook up and disbelieving. “Maybe even worse than yours.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I don’t know if he’s there now or not. I haven’t seen him.”
She flops onto a barstool. “This is very bad timing.”
“No kidding.”
I hesitate.
“This next thing… I think it’s a big deal. Like maybe you don’t want to know, because it’s trouble.”
Lucy sighs through gritted teeth. “I’m starting to think I should take a trip to Vancouver.”
“That might be a good idea,” I say, and I mean it.
“So what is this other thing?”
“It has to do with Yang Junmin. I don’t know for sure, but I think he’s tangled up in some kind of power struggle with the upcoming leadership change.”
Now Lucy scrunches her eyes closed. “I don’t think I want to have anything to do with this,” she says.
“You don’t,” I say. “But maybe… if something goes wrong, I don’t know.” I shrug. I feel like a total shitheel. “It might be something you can use.”
“I just want to have a nice gallery and promote good art,” she mutters.
“Yeah. Do you have a printer?”
Lucy has a tiny office in a little room at the back of the apartment, next to her bedroom. I boot up my laptop, hop onto her network using the VPN, download the driver I need, and print out the email from Celine. Get an envelope from Lucy, fold the paper, and put it inside. Seal it.
When I go back into the living room, Lucy’s sitting on the couch staring at her cup of tea. Maybe she’s trying to read the tea leaves. I’m pretty sure she’s sorry that she invited me over here tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was sorry she ever met me.
“I know you don’t want this,” I say, holding out the envelope. “But maybe, if you don’t hear from me in a couple of days… could you get it to Harrison?”
She looks up and meets my eyes. Nods. “I can. I promise.”
I sleep on the couch until stupid o’clock the next morning. Get up with the first light of dawn. Lucy’s still asleep. I don’t want to wake her. The best thing I can do is get out of her apartment before I bring some bad shit down on her head just by being here.
I find a notepad and a pen. Scribble, “Thanks for everything. And sorry.” I can’t think of anything else to say.
I take the subway to the Bund. I don’t want to meet Sidney’s people anywhere near Lucy’s place, and I don’t know Shanghai that well, so why not the Bund? The hotel I like to stay at is close by, just north of where the Wusong River runs into the Huangpu, and there are some cafés I’ve been to over there, and now that I think about it, I haven’t had anything to eat since a sandwich in Meimei’s rented yellow Hummer and some spicy peanuts on the train, so I should probably eat something. At least have some coffee. So I can be awake when I ride to my doom.
Sidney’s not going to kill you, I tell myself. I’m walking along the Huangpu now, restored nineteenth-century European buildings to my left, stately granite and marble, and on the other side of the river to my right, the gold-and-blue mirrored glass science-fiction skyline of Shanghai’s Pudong District.
It’s just that I can’t predict how any of this is going to turn out. How he’s going to react when I tell him I think Tiantian might have killed a girl, but I can’t really prove it.
And then there’s Marsh, who may or may not have killed Celine.
I don’t really know anything for sure. What happens when I tell him what I suspect?
I just have a bad feeling, about all of it.
There’s a coffeehouse up ahead. It looks open.
As good a place to wait as any, I guess.
I get a cup of coffee and a chocolate croissant. Walk out to the promenade that runs along the river and sit on a bench. Smell the river’s mossy funk. Watch a boat cruise by. I don’t know what it is, some kind of working boat, low-slung and rusting blue. The day’s warming up-I can already feel sweat beading on my back.
A barge maybe?
I don’t know shit about boats.
I swap SIM cards and call Vicky Huang.
Chapter Twenty Three
★
“Someone can pick you up in an hour,” Vicky tells me.
I think I might have woken her up. Which feels oddly satisfying.
“Great,” I say. “I’ll be here.”