Follow the Money

30

It was possibly the first time in her life that May Ling hadn't known what to do.

'I saw her,' she said. 'Just a few minutes ago. She looked so wild, so mad. She had a gun.'

'What d'you mean, a pistol, a handgun?'

'No, something bigger, longer…'

'Like a rifle or a shotgun?'

'I don't know! I don't know! She's capable of anything. I'm so scared. She hates me, she hates herself, she…'

'Stay here.' I gave her my mobile. 'Stephen Chang's number's listed. Call him. Tell him what's going on.'

'I've got his number. I don't need your phone. What are you going to do?'

I didn't answer because I didn't know. I moved forward, keeping low and out of the pools of light until I reached the short dock where the boat was the only one moored. Under the moonlight I could read the name -High Five. It was big, not as big as some, but big enough, with a long mast waving in the wind and several satellite dishes mounted around the superstructure. Lights showed in the body of the boat. I crept closer until I could sort out where the lower deck began and how to reach it. There was an opening near the front where the rail had been folded back and pinioned. The boat was rocking gently; it was securely fastened, but a tide was building, running towards the harbour.

I stepped onto the boat and worked my way back to the deck where there was light. I could hear the faint hum of a generator. I moved clear of the raised section and peered around the corner to the awning-covered space. I couldn't see anything but I heard the unmistakable sound of people fucking-the creaking, the panting. A short set of steps led down to what had to be cabins and a living area.

The action heated up and then stopped abruptly. Sun Ling's voice, breathless, alarmed, disappointed, was an almost hysterical screech.

'Richard, no! Don't stop! Fuck you. I-'

I heard a heavy slap. 'Shut up, you stupid bitch.'

I was crouched at the top of the steps with the pistol in my hand staring down into the dimly lit space. Suddenly it was flooded with light. A man stepped out holding what looked like a machine pistol. He was naked and still half erect.

He looked like the Richard Malouf I'd met but not quite like him. His hair was lighter and the shape of his nose was slightly different.

'William Habib,' I said.

'Hardy, put down the gun.'

'You won't shoot me. You don't have to. Ali's under arrest. You've still got a shot at a deal with Inspector Chang.'

'The gun.'

There are killers like Lester Wong and Yusef Talat but Habib wasn't one of them. He wasn't cruel enough or frightened enough. I tossed the pistol over my shoulder and heard it hit the deck.

'We should talk,' I said.

Habib was only in his middle thirties and he'd been an athlete in more ways than one. I'd thought him vain on our meetings and he'd looked as though he'd taken care of his face and figure. Now, naked, with his penis slackening and holding half-heartedly onto a weapon he didn't want to use, he looked older and diminished.

'You trust Chang?' he said.

'As much as I trust anyone. He just now stopped Ali from killing me.'

'God, I never thought it'd come to this. You can set something up with Chang?'

'I can't guarantee everything you might want, but I'll tell you this-you'll have a better chance with him than on the run with Houli and Talat after you. Is Sun Ling all right?'

The grimace was almost a smile. 'When I called her that she almost bit my head off.'

'She's a troubled woman. Her sister-'

'OK, OK. Gretchen's probably pissed off with me. I seem to have that knack with women.'

He hesitated for a second and then put the machine pistol down. 'I'll put some clothes on and we'll talk.'

He stepped back into the cabin. It seemed too easy and I stayed alert, wishing I had the pistol within reach. I had the torch now feeling like not much of a weapon.

When Habib re-emerged he was a different man. He wore a dark silk shirt, white trousers and white deck shoes. His hair had been swept back and tidied. He bent, picked up the machine pistol, and made a beckoning gesture at the cabin. Sun Ling came out wearing a blue silk dress and what Germaine Greer called 'fuck me' shoes. She tottered, holding a hand up to her face. Habib steered her towards the steps.

'She's insurance,' Habib said. 'She seems to matter to you, Hardy. I'll kill her if I have to, to save myself. You have to understand that. The only person in this whole fucking world I care about is me. Got it?'

He seemed to handle the gun with a new assurance. He looked strong and Sun Ling looked frail.

'I believe you,' I said.

'Right. Let's get up where we can parley. Little Gretchen here shot up while we were talking before and she's in dreamland now, near enough.'

The contempt in his voice underlined what he'd said about his lack of concern for everyone but himself. Trouble was, that included me.

Still carrying his weapon, Habib hauled Sun Ling up the steps and dumped her on a recliner. He looked tired as he sat in one of the aluminium-frame chairs and gestured for me to do the same. I shook my head and leaned back against the rail. I let my eyes drift around, looking for the pistol, but I couldn't see it.

'Not going to do anything silly, are you?' Habib said.

'No. Are you?'

'You know this is an ocean-going vessel and I've taken on enough fuel to get me well out into international waters.'

'Just you and Sun Ling? Is that enough… crew?'

He looked down at the woman lying on the recliner. Her eyes were closed; her mouth hung slightly open and a thread of spittle slid down to her perfectly moulded chin. He looked away with an expression of disgust.

'No, just me. Gretchen came intending to kill me with a spear-gun. I persuaded her not to the old-fashioned way. But I don't need the encumbrance. This vessel's state of the art-storm-proof, sink-proof.'

'That's what they said about the Titanic.'

He laughed. 'No icebergs in the wide blue Pacific.'

I edged towards him but he touched the gun and I stopped. 'Plenty of sharks, though, and you know the sharks that're really waiting aren't in the water.'

He frowned. 'That's your hole-card, isn't it?'

'I don't play cards. All that stuff bores me, but you and I know there are people in the Middle East and Hong Kong and the tax havens that're very interested in you. Not to mention our locals. They follow the money and if they lose track of the money…'

'OK, OK. You think I stand a chance with Chang- immunity, witness protection and all that?'

I studied him. Tired, stressed, he should have been more agitated than he appeared.

'I'm guessing you've got a plan B,' I said. 'You've put money and documents away in various places and reckon you can play another game from behind the official smokescreen.'

He nodded. 'You're speculating. The thing to do now is to drive the best bargain I can. You stay here. There are sensors and cameras all over this boat. That's how I knew you were aboard. Just give me a minute and we'll get this show on the road.'

Sun Ling coughed and appeared to be choking. I bent down to help and heard two thumps which didn't mean anything to me, and another noise that did. A heavy engine thundered into life and the High Five churned up the water as it swung away from the jetty and headed out into the river.

31

I ignored Habib's instruction and moved forward to the wheelhouse enclosed in a transparent cocoon. There were dials, screens and switches and flashing lights. Habib stood, with the machine pistol hanging by a shoulder strap, steering the yacht. The engine was purring quietly now, no need to shout. What he'd said about sensors and cameras must have been true because he saw me coming and swung towards me with the gun lifted.

'What the fuck are you doing?' I said.

'I feel safer out here. Call up Chang. We'll put him on the speaker and hear what he has to say. We'll deal or no deal.'