Hulan bet he'd also hoped for an extraordinary deal.
"But as you know, things move slowly here, and we didn't get this place up and running until two years ago." Sandy stopped before a display of animation eels, products, and a company history. "This is our brag wall," he explained, then began pointing out the various highlights in Knight's corporate history.
After years in the lucrative preschool market, Knight had struck gold in the post-war years with the Sally Doll-one of the first baby dolls on the market to drink from a bottle and pee in its diaper. The company had experienced another growth surge during the mid-eighties, when deregulation under Reagan led to relaxed limitations on advertising during children's programming. But none of the products introduced at that time had experienced the phenomenal success of the Sam line. The action figures had been designed as a team of ten. Sam was the leader, but he was never seen without Cactus at his side. After Cactus there were-in order of military rank-Magnificent, Glory, Gaseous, Uta, Annabel, Notorious, Nick, and Rachel. Ironically, although children were supposed to want all the figures equally or at least in order of rank, the ones with the most common names lagged behind in popularity and sales.
Sandy 's patter came to a close, and he continued down the hall. Following behind him, Hulan realized that the names of the Sam figures were the same as those on the financial papers at Suchee's. Again Hulan wondered how those documents had gotten into Miaoshan's hands.
Sandy stopped, pushed open a door, and gestured inside. "Here, this is my office."
A huge black lacquer desk dominated the sleekly modern room. In front of the desk the room was divided into two sections: to the left, a mini conference area made up of a round table and four chairs; to the right, two couches with a coffee table between them. Sandy took a seat on one of the couches and motioned for Hulan to sit across from him.
This entire experience puzzled Hulan, and she tried to reconcile what she knew about Americans and American business with what she understood as a Chinese woman. In China great value was placed on titles. Sandy Newheart had said he was the project director, and certainly the size and opulence of this office suggested that he was the top person here. But in China it was practically unheard of for someone of importance to meet directly with an unknown quantity, let alone go outdoors to meet that guest. Was he being polite or trying to control the situation?
"Are you the person I should talk to about Miss Ling?" Hulan asked.
"I can take you over to meet Aaron Rodgers. He's the manager of what we call assembly. I believe that's where Miss Ling worked."
"I thought you said you didn't know her."
"I didn't. I just know she didn't work in the heart."
"The heart?"
"That's the area we just passed through," Sandy explained. "That's the heart of what we do. Those girls handle all orders from the U.S. They track shipments and money transactions. I doubt that poor girl was ever in this building. But tell me-and please forgive my ignorance-why are you here? Her death has nothing to do with us."
Only tell one-third of the truth, Hulan thought for the second time since coming to the countryside. "I'm an investigator for Public Security. It's my duty to investigate suspicious deaths in this province. Ling Miaoshan committed suicide."
"You're with the police?" Sandy asked, finally grasping what this was all about.
Hulan tipped her head in acknowledgment.
"But a suicide-" he tried again.
Hulan held up a hand to keep the project director from repeating himself. "You're absolutely right, but as you've noted, we have our own ways in China. I'm here to understand this girl. It will help me if I can see where she worked and how she spent her last days."
Sandy 's eyes narrowed. His fingers drummed on the armrest. Finally he asked, "Have you met with Governor Sun?"
"No, I haven't," she responded, startled by the question.
"Governor Sun Gan represents the province," he explained. "He also serves as the provincial liaison between American companies and the Chinese bureaucracy, I mean, government. I'm surprised you don't know him."
Hulan smiled thinly. "Everyone has heard of Governor Sun, but China is a big country and I haven't met him." She stood. "Now, I'd like to see where Miss Ling lived and worked. If you're too busy, then you can have one of your other workers take me around."
"No." The word came out sharply. "I mean, I'd be happy to show you our facility."
As they walked down the road between the buildings, Sandy once again took up his tour guide role. They stopped to look at the cafeteria, where Sandy showed her the private dining room used by himself, the department managers, and the Knights when they came to visit. Hulan was not allowed to see the area where the factory workers ate because, as Sandy explained, the room was being cleaned and readied for dinner.
Back outside, Sandy led her past the warehouse and several of the other buildings, all of which he said were places that an employee such as the girl who killed herself would never have entered. When Sandy passed the entrance to the dormitory, Hulan reminded him that she wanted to see where Miaoshan had lived. He said that regretfully this area was off limits today. "You can imagine that with nearly one thousand women living together that things can get quite messy. So once a month we send in a crew to do a thorough cleaning using high-strength disinfectants and such. I don't think you'd find that a particularly pleasant place to be today."
"But I'd still like to see it," she said, her eyes roaming over the harsh white exterior.
"Perhaps another time."
Noticing that the dormitory building had no windows, Hulan slowed and turned her head back the way she'd come. None of the buildings in the Knight complex had windows, at least not on the facades facing the center road.
Hulan followed Sandy up the couple of steps leading to the building marked ASSEMBLY. As he pulled open the door, Hulan felt again the rush of cool air. But once inside the lobby, she realized that this building was not nearly as cold as the Administration Building. A guard-a foreigner-sat at a desk.
"Jimmy, could you call Aaron out here? We have a visitor I'd like him to meet."
"Sure thing, Mr. Newheart," the guard said in an Australian accent. Hulan watched as his beefy fingers hit the number pads on the phone. Jimmy hung up the receiver and stood. He was at least six feet tall and well over two hundred and fifty pounds. Most of this weight bulked in the muscles of his arms and shoulders. Unlike Sandy Newheart, who seemed to have no inkling of what Hulan was, Jimmy's deep brown eyes sized her up and seemed to come to the automatic conclusion that she was in law enforcement. At the same time Hulan was coming to conclusions of her own: Jimmy was accustomed to physically settling scores and carrying out other people's orders. His recognition of her could only point to one thing: He had more than a passing acquaintance with cops. He might have been a policeman at some time in his life, he may have simply passed his working life as a guard of some sort, or he may have been a low-grade criminal himself, doing breaking and entering, maybe even "enforcement" for hire. Although how an Australian of such questionable background would end up working in an American-owned factory in Shanxi Province was a mystery, to say the least.
Behind Jimmy's desk a door opened, and Aaron Rodgers came through. He wore jeans, a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and tennis shoes. His smile showed perfectly straight white teeth.