“Max, its Rene, I’m a cabbie. I heard through a mutual friend that you were interested in anything that seemed out of the ordinary that might be connected to either Christie’s or one of their upcoming auctions. Well, it probably is nothing, but I just picked up a Chinaman from a hotel that caters to a great many tourists and businessmen from Hong Kong and took him to Christie’s. Not only that, but he left a book about emeralds in my taxi.”
“That’s the kind of information I’m looking for. Thank you very much. What hotel is he staying in?”
“Well, since I picked him up when he walked out of the Hotel du Fontaigne, over on rue des Eaux-Vives, I assumed that he was staying there, but of course, I can’t be absolutely sure.”
“That’s all right, Rene. I’ll check it out. And again, thank you so very much. I owe you”
“Not at all, not at all, always willing to be of service, Max.”
When the phone rang in Piet’s condo, Josef picked it up.
“Josef, this is Piet…”
He waited for three taps to assure it was Josef before continuing.
“Would you go to the Hotel du Fontaigne, 15 rue des Eaux-Vives and verify the registration for and find out all you can about a Chinese gentleman from Hong Kong who just checked in and seems to be interested in auctions?”
Piet heard two taps on the receiver and then said, “Thanks, Josef.”
The phone disconnected and Josef returned it to the cradle. He changed clothes, put on shoes and also covered his bald dome with a wig and left immediately.
Tam entered the lobby and laughed at the small flashing sign over the bar, Lucky’s. Of all the names, he thought. That’s a joke. He knew he shouldn’t walk into the place, but that would be better than filling out a lot of lies on these god-damn forms, so he headed in the direction of the bar.
He sat down at a table on the far side of the bar so he wouldn’t have to talk with anyone and could slowly savor just one drink. That’s all I’m going to drink today, he told himself. When the waiter placed the triple martini before him, he handed him the credit card that was in the envelope White Paper Fan had given him. Damn, that envelope stuff too, he thought. Just more paperwork reading all that. Do they think I can’t even figure out what to do on my own? Bidding on a gemstone is not that difficult. The brochure was much more interesting than all those written instructions. At least, now I know that it’s a totally unique emerald, a natural stone that has never been cut — perfect in its own right. Doctor Yang’s going to get a lot of mileage out of that stone, he thought. People would come from miles around to get his expensive emerald treatments at his new clinic. Somewhere I read that emeralds are good for the eyes and will reduce swelling and promote healing if the stone is placed directly on the correct pressure points. If I had that stone, I could rent it to Yang to use and live fine for the rest of my life, and he would make a fortune too. Then I could get out of the damned Triad business. I hate that crummy bunch of thugs, especially White Paper Fan. Forcing us to kill one of our own just to invoke his authority even stepped over my line, and I don’t have much of a line left these days.
A tall, black man in a long robe interrupted his thoughts by pulling up a chair and sitting down at Tam’s table. The man was even taller than he was. Who the hell is this guy, one of the Triad watchdogs? he thought.
“I’m sorry, sir, but this table’s taken,” Tam said, noticing the heavily scared face of the man who did not say a word to him but remained seated and looked at him calmly.
“Did you hear what I said?” The black man remained seated as if he didn’t hear Tam.
“Sir, I don’t mean to be rude, but this is my table, would you please leave.” The man continued sitting there unmoved and not responding. Tam looked directly into the face of Josef and finally saw the scarred face and the missing eye and thought, well, I see he’s been in a fight before himself, but I’m in no mood to fight him. I’ll just move to another table, and he moved to the next table. The black man sat there for a minute looking at him in a non-threatening way and then got up and moved over and sat down again at Tam’s new table.
“What the hell? Sir, May I ask what you want?”
Josef offered no response.
“Who are you anyway?” Tam asked him.
The waiter appeared and placed a tall colorless drink and an inch high stack of cocktail napkins before Josef. Josef paid him in cash and waved an acknowledgement to the waiter who said, “Thank you, sir,” and walked off. Josef took a sip of his drink, looked at Tam, and smiled. Tam angrily stared at the man, unbelieving he was even sitting there. Josef then raised his glass again, like in a toast, and nodded to Tam and took another sip. Tam took a long swig of his martini and then said looking at Josef, “Who are you?” Josef picked up one of the napkins, pulled out a ball-point, wrote Josef, and handed the napkin to Tam who stared back and forth at the napkin and at the man sitting before him.
“Can’t you talk?”
Josef wrote No.
“Well, I’m sorry sir, but I’d like my privacy, if you don’t mind.”
Josef smiled and nodded his head up and down showing he understood and remained seated. He wrote again on the same napkin, what are you doing in Geneva?
“I’m trying to have a quiet drink by myself. That’s what. What do you want?”
Josef wrote, I understand, and so am I, but no one will talk to me because I intimidate them or they feel sorry for me and you at least are talking to me, which I appreciate. The next round’s on me. What is your name?
“Tam,” he said disarmed and relaxing a little. “Where are you from, Josef?
I live here in Geneva but I enjoy meeting people from other parts of the world such as you. I am an haute cuisine chef.
“What’s that?”
Oh, just a fancy name for a cook. What brings you to Geneva, Tam?
“I’m here representing a group of businessmen to do some business for them, some possible buying, you might say.”
Tam finished his martini and really liked the fact that Josef was buying the next round. This relieved his conscience about whether or not to order another drink. This Josef guy seemed harmless enough and he, too, didn’t mind the company in this new and strange city.
“Cooking, huh? Most cooks are fat because they eat their own creations, but you look in prime shape, Josef. Do you work out a lot?”
Yes. I do Judo and Karate, both routines from your part of the world. Do you?
“I try, mainly because I have to be on my toes to stay out of trouble. I do know Karate, more for self-protection than to keep in shape.”
Are you in danger? Where do you live?
“Not here. I’m from Hong Kong. It’s different there.”
Josef waved to the waiter to bring another round of drinks, which he did. Josef got a fresh napkin to continue the conversation and wrote, what kind of products are you buying, Tam?
“Well, Josef, I’m not actually buying products in the normal business sense. I’m bidding at an auction for a syndicate of jewel collectors.”
Tam thought about what he said, but decided Josef seemed a safe person to talk to because he knew he wouldn’t say anything, unless he was faking. Tam wished he hadn’t told Josef that. He became intent now on checking out Josef’s truthfulness about not being able to speak. He began observing the man closely.