Perhaps the tidbit he had would be but a small morsel against the sumptuous feast at Gridley’s table. Maybe it was no more than a little seasoning. Still, it was better than coming up empty-handed.
A beautiful woman answered the door. “Mr. Chang?”
“Yes.”
“I am Saji — Jay’s wife. Won’t you come in?”
He inclined his head in a slow bow. “My honor to meet you,” he said.
She led him past a sleeping baby to a room where Jay Gridley was powering up a VR system. “Hey, Chang. Come on in. I have something to show you.”
“And I, you,” Chang said. He smiled.
After meeting with Leigh, Locke went directly to another meeting with Wu. Locked had called this meeting, on his cell in the cab from Leigh’s place.
He hadn’t even bothered changing cabs. This was important, and there was little time for games.
Wu, in his uniform, answered the door. Locke nodded and followed Wu into the kitchen.
“Nice place,” Locke said.
“Which we both know you have seen before,” Wu said. “Along with the occupant.”
Locke smiled, one man of the world to another, and didn’t bother to try and deny it. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” Wu said. “It doesn’t affect our business. What she does on her own time does not matter to me.” This was not strictly true, but better Locke should think so. One did not show the chinks in one’s armor to an armed man, even if he was an ally.
Alliances changed.
Locke bowed his head.
Wu gestured at one of the two chairs next to the small table. There were two glasses set upon the table, along with a bottle of very good Australian red wine. Locke sat, picked up the bottle, read the label, then poured, filling Wu’s glass first before his own.
After they had both sipped at the wine, exchanged a few meaningless pleasantries, and remarked upon the hot and wet weather, Wu leaned back in his chair.
“We have a situation,” Locke said.
“Which is…?”
“Shing.”
Wu raised one eyebrow. “Shing?”
“He’s a gambler.”
“This I already know. I have been supplying him with money.”
“Not enough money, apparently. He has… incurred debts.”
Wu frowned. “How much? And to whom?”
“About forty-five thousand British pounds, to Water Room; another twenty thousand to Flexible Bamboo.”
“To triads? He owes this much money to criminals?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know this?”
“I have dealings with another computer expert. He has access to Li Ho Fok’s accounts, as well as those of the loan shark Firecracker Jiang. These accounts are private and there would be no reason to show Shing in them if he did not owe this money.”
Wu’s frown increased. Why did he not know of this? Could Shing have kept such information from Mayli? If so, he was not as stupid as Wu thought.
As if reading his mind, Locke said, “Maybe the boy has more on the ball than we figured, keeping this from us.”
Wu sighed. “Yes. Go on.”
“The gambling debts began several years back, before Shing’s association with us. He started losing money in college. He has added to these losses lately, but according to my source, most of these are bets on sporting events, through Fok or Jiang Wei’s bookies. A call on a cell phone would be enough. I don’t expect Mayli would have any way of knowing about them.”
Wu nodded. A man who would brag to his woman about winning money on a soccer game might not be so quick to tell her that he had lost his shirt betting on others. No man liked to lose face in such a way.
“And your source is not only reliable but… trustworthy?”
“Yes, though of course he knows nothing about our plan,” Locke said.
Wu nodded again. He was not surprised that Locke had his own ways of tracking important information. He would have been surprised if he did not.
Wu considered the datum. What did it mean to his plans that his computer genius owed the tongs money? Sixtyfive-thousand pounds was serious business. Shing would have to pay it, one way or another. If things went as planned, Shing would have no trouble covering his debts. He might be holding them off with promises. And how much would he have to tell them to get them to believe these promises?
Wu didn’t like it.
Locke said, “It’s a complication.”
“Yes. We still need Shing. Not for much longer, but for the moment he is necessary.”
Locke nodded. “Yes. I considered bringing my man in, but without Shing’s help, he wouldn’t be able to do the job right.”
“Shing could be persuaded to help,” Wu said.
“Too risky. If my man flubbed, it might be a problem for us. Maybe not, but I wouldn’t want to chance that.”
“No.”
“We could pay off Shing’s debts.”
Wu said, “Yes. I could manage that. But that would do nothing against what he might have already revealed to the triads. If they had the slightest clue what we intend, they would see that Shing’s debt was but a drop in the bucket. They would want to be involved. Too many people would know.”
“Loose lips sink ships,” Locke observed.
“Exactly.”
“So, what do you think we should do?”
Wu sipped from his wine again. Australia was the new France when it came to such things. “I am open to suggestions.”
Locke said, “One comes to mind. What if the triads suddenly found themselves the object of major law enforcement attention?”
Wu permitted himself a small smile. Locke was clever, too clever by half, but in such a venture, a man with a sharp wit was much better than one whose blade was dull. “A distraction? As is being done to the U.S. military and CyberNation?”
“Why not? A wolf running from a forest fire doesn’t stop to catch mice. If we give the wolves something else about which to worry, Shing becomes a mouse. Even if they think he might be something bigger someday, survival comes first. And pretty soon, we won’t need Shing. He could disappear.”
Wu allowed the smile to increase a hair. “Then go and start a forest fire and drive the wolves before it.”
Locke raised his glass. “Muddy roads to our enemy’s army,” he said.
Wu raised his glass. “And a great pox upon their generals.”
29
Jay stood in the middle of the sampan while Chang worked the long oar at the rear, sculling the wooden pole back and forth in a machinelike rhythm. The little boat was twelve or fifteen feet long, weathered wood, with a cloth-and-bamboo-covered hoop that formed an arc-roofed cabin running most of the boat’s length. They were going with the current, and Chang’s efforts were more to keep it lined up with the flow than to drive it.
The water did have a yellow color to it.
“Comes from the Loess Plateau,” Chang said. “The earth there turns this shade when it becomes sediment in the water. Half as big as Texas, that plateau. Haung Ho — the Yellow River — is also called ‘China’s Great Sorrow.’ ”
Jay looked at him, squinting against the bright sunlight.
“From all the misery the river has caused over the years,” Chang said. “Floods, destruction, so many deaths. Chinese civilization began here on its banks, you know. All the major dynasties.”
Jay nodded.
Ahead of them, behind them, other boats floated on the muddy water, small sampans like the one they were in as well as ones that were larger, with sails. A few were so tiny that they seemed like children’s toys, probably made from sheepskins. The smell of fish hung in the damp and warm air. Some of the boats held bamboo cages with big black diving birds in them. Cormorants, Jay knew, used to catch fish.