by Nigel Price
“More times than I care to imagine. Iraq too.”
“I suppose it was pretty tough?” Miller injected the word with disdain.
Harry shrugged. “Pretty much.” And left the rest to Miller’s limited imagination.
Breakfast continued in silence for the next few minutes as each digested their recently acquired knowledge of the other. The pot of fresh coffee arrived and was served. Harry finished his toast. Lisa mopped crumbs from her lips and watched the two men, content to leave them to establish whatever rapport there was to establish.
Miller’s phone rang. Eye of the Tiger. Theme tune from Rocky III. Harry had to stiffen his face to keep it straight.
“Miller,” Miller answered. His manner changed the instant the person at the other end spoke. Harry couldn’t hear any of it. He just saw the chastening effect it had on the man at the head of the table. The twitches and jerks returned. The conversation was one-sided. “Yes … Yes … Yes.” Each one accompanied by a shift in posture. It concluded with, “Right.”
The phone was slipped into the blazer’s inside pocket. Miller’s smile was plastered back in place. “So, tell me about your visit to Herbert Zhu.”
Harry deferred to Lisa.
“I went to see Mr Zhu regarding a woman called Yan Yajun,” she began. Miller’s face showed not the slightest sign of recognition. Briefly, Lisa recounted how Yan Yajun had sought her out and how Lisa had suspected she had brought some sort of case for her to investigate. Possibly something environmental.
“Ah. And you work for?”
She told Miller. He nodded sagely as if the answer explained all he needed to know. “Oh dear. I’m afraid you’ve been led on a wild goose chase,” he said. He saw her quizzical expression. “Been led up a blind alley. Your time has been wasted by this old woman.”
“You know her?” Lisa asked.
“Not exactly,” Miller answered. “She came to Mr Chau’s office in town. I forget what she wanted. She seemed agitated. Mr Chau was away on business.”
“But you met with her?”
Miller poured himself more coffee. “I don’t recall. I think so. I meet so many people. All manner of peasants come to see Mr Chau for one reason or another. Seeking his assistance. He is a great benefactor, you see.”
“I’m sure,” Harry said. “So what was Mrs Yan’s problem?”
“I seem to remember it was some complaint or other to do with the water supply to her village. There was some issue about contamination. Of course it was complete nonsense. I know the place. There’s nothing wrong with it at all.”
“You know her village?” Harry sat forward. “So you do remember her?”
Miller appeared flustered. Harry’s impressions were confirmed. The man was an idiot.
“I can take you there if you like. I can show you. You can see for yourself.”
Harry and Lisa swapped a glance. Lisa shrugged. “How far is it?”
“About an hour by car.” Miller looked at his watch. “We can kill it off this morning. You can then go back to Beijing this evening. An end to all this.”
Harry looked at Lisa. Shall we? She nodded. “Okay. If it’s not too much trouble.”
Miller pushed back his chair. “Let’s go then. No time like the present. Get your jacket or whatever you need and I’ll see you out front in ten minutes.”
Harry and Lisa walked back to their rooms. Lisa was frightened. “What’s he up to?”
“Only one way to find out. I’d say he’s been told to convince us to drop the whole thing. Expect a whitewash,” Harry answered.
They rendezvoused at the front entrance. Miller drew up in his car. As they stood aside for him to park, two men walked past. In each of their fists, dogs strained at the leash. One of them caught a scent and went berserk. Harry quickly put Lisa in the car and slammed her door, hopping into the front seat afterwards.
With difficulty the men dragged the dog away. The others had taken up the call and the whole pack barked and snarled and tugged towards the vehicle. Miller stared hard at Harry.
“There was a commotion in the night,” he said laconically. “I don’t suppose you know anything about it?”
“I heard dogs barking,” Harry answered. “Are they guard dogs?”
“Yes. They have the run of the grounds at night.”
“Glad I didn’t venture out then. It might have been nice to warn us.”
“Sorry, old chap,” Miller said. “Perhaps I should have done. They’re fine with people they know. It’s just strangers they don’t like.”
Harry surveyed the yapping hound lurching at his window. “So it would seem,” he smiled, waggling his fingers at it.
Twenty Two
The drive to the village was conducted in silence. Lisa sat in the back once again, Harry up front to keep Miller company. Unlike the drive of the day before, Miller stared stonily ahead, ignoring his passengers. He was a man on a mission.
Soon after leaving the villa, the car turned onto a narrow road that led up into hill country. Farmsteads appeared on either side, rough unkempt affairs at the end of long tracks leading off the main road. Houses were single-storey structures, poorly built and tumbledown. Harry could see children scratching around in the dirt playing, lone mutts staring at the car until it had passed, chickens earning their keep pecking at the dust alongside the children.
In fields, farmers did this and that, absorbed by chores that meant little to Harry. Now and then one would look up with the same half-interested attention as their dogs. It was poor country.
The road became ever more potholed. Miller navigated around the largest of them. Even the BMW’s suspension was unable to save them from being bounced around. A huge cloud of dust was strung out behind the car like a bridal train.
At last the road bent into a series of curves. Buildings came at them on all sides. It was like the most derelict of Mexican settlements in the worst B-movie western Harry had ever seen. The car drew to a halt in what might have been the square.
“Here we are,” Miller announced and got out. Harry and Lisa followed suit. “As you see, it’s no beauty spot.” He sought out direction. “This way.”
Leading them away from the square, Miller headed for a track. He knew where to go. A man in smart trousers and jacket came out from behind a building and walked towards them. Miller went to meet him. The two shook hands and conferred. Lisa and Harry waited to one side.
“He’s not from around here,” Harry observed. Lisa agreed. The man’s shoes were smart slip-ons. Hardly a farmer’s garb.
Miller brought him over to introduce. “This is the local chief of police,” he said. The man tried to smile. It wasn’t an expression that came easily to him. No one offered to shake hands. Miller brightened, as if the reinforcements gave him added authority.
They walked to a headland overlooking a stream. “That’s the village water source,” Miller said. “You can do whatever tests you like. It’s the purest water you’re likely to find anywhere. Positively alpine.”
From the promontory it certainly looked that way. Crystal clear water burbled over smooth shiny rocks. Further along the bank a group of women sat chatting. They glanced towards the visitors and looked away quickly. Miller opened his arms, taking in the countryside around them. “It’s not exactly paradise but it’s as unspoiled as it gets for China. No factories. No pollution. Just agriculture.”
It did look that way to Harry. Lisa too was considering. “Can we speak to the women?” she asked.
“Of course,” Miller answered quickly. He muttered something to the police chief who grunted and went to fetch them. A moment later the women mustered obediently. Lisa sighed. It was pretty obvious that none of them would open up in front of the policeman. He stood behind them, injecting them with his presence.
Nonetheless she asked a couple of questions. Harry followed most of it but acted as if he didn’t.
Did they know Mrs Yan? They did. What had happened to make her travel to Beijing? Much shakin
g of heads. No one could imagine. Where had she lived? They pointed off up the hillside. Up there.
Lisa considered asking Miller to take them. She realised there was little point. Not with the police chief in tow. Whatever might once have been of interest would have been sanitised. She asked the women if Mrs Yan had any members of her family still there. None, they said.
Harry felt that was strange. Time to cut in. “Did Mrs Yan have any family?” he asked Miller. Miller deferred to the police chief. The man shook his head. No.
“That’s strange, isn’t it? No one at all?”
More shaking of the head. The man was a terrible liar. Harry wanted to shake him by the throat. Instead he smiled. “Fair enough.”
He sniffed the air. It was clear and fresh. In so far as he could tell.
“You see,” Miller said at last. “The village isn’t Shangri La but it’s no hell-hole either. The people are poor but so is most of rural China. She probably came to Beijing in search of work. Nothing more. She had land here. Maybe by herself she was getting too old to farm it anymore.”
“And she had no family?” Lisa persisted.
The police chief said something. His dialect was thick. Harry asked Lisa what he had said.
“Apparently she had a son. He died. Bird flu, the police chief says.”
Miller was sympathetic. “This area was hard hit by the last outbreak. I didn’t know about her son. That explains it, I’d say. Left alone she couldn’t cope. Hence her trip to the city. She probably wanted a cleaning job with your company, Lisa,” he suggested helpfully.
Lisa gave him a look. Yeah. Right.
Time to draw the charade to a close. “I don’t think we need detain the police chief further,” Harry said. “Or these ladies.” The policeman snapped at them. They walked away briskly, back towards the riverside rocks. “And thank you for bringing us here, Clive.”
Miller acknowledged the thanks. “Only sorry I couldn’t throw more light on it.”
They started to walk back towards the square. Lisa fell into step beside Harry. Miller rambled on, prattling about this and that. His tongue was running away with him. He was talking about Ryder Chau’s prospects at the coming National Congress. “He has so many plans for rural China. People like these really matter to him. He wants to improve their lives. So far they haven’t benefited from the economic miracle that is modern China. He intends to change all that.”
Harry was the first to spot the woman. She was young and unkempt. She stood some way off, staring at the little group of him and the others. She took a step forward. She called something. Harry glanced round. The police chief was busy with his phone, texting or something. He hadn’t noticed. Nor had Miller who continued with his prattle.
But Lisa had. She put a hand on Harry’s arm and gently pushed him towards Miller. Harry got the message. “It sounds like Ryder Chau’s the answer to China’s needs,” he said, engaging Miller in further chat.
“He most certainly is. And I’m his right-hand man,” he added proudly. “He needs an insight into the West’s likely reaction to his plans.”
“And you’re the man to give him that?” Harry injected his question with all the enthusiasm that was wholly absent from his thoughts.
“That’s the plan.” A thought occurred to Miller. “Perhaps there might be a role for you too,” he ventured. “A man of your experience might be a useful sounding board. Someone I could use from time to time in a consultancy capacity perhaps.”
“I’d be flattered.” Harry noticed that Lisa was getting closer to the dishevelled woman. The police chief was facing the other way, now talking into his phone.
“I mean, it’s a pity you didn’t go to a decent school,” Miller laughed, hugely enjoying the joshing. “I’d be the Colonel. You could be my Lance Corporal.”
Harry laughed gamely. The man was making him want to vomit. “Yes, Colonel,” he said. Miller found this terrifically humorous. He loved it.
He sniffed the air. “God, this place even smells poor,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t know how Ryder stomached it when he was up here.”
“Why was he up here?” Harry asked.
Miller acted as if he’d been scalded. He fluffed and mumbled. “It’s his power base. This whole area. They’re his people. He looks after them. Always has.”
“Clearly,” Harry said, taking in the abject poverty. Lisa was ten yards from the woman who was saying something.
There was a shout from behind. Harry spun round to see the police chief running towards the two women, his phone call forgotten. Miller looked up. “What’s she doing?” he said.
“Who? Lisa?”
“Get her away from that bloody woman.”
“Who is she?”
“No one. No one at all.”
The police chief was between Lisa and the woman, shouting at the miserable creature who shrank away from him, cowed.
As the woman scuttled away, the police chief escorted Lisa back towards the others. “What were you doing?” Miller called to her.
“Nothing,” Lisa answered. “The woman looked as if she wanted to speak to me. That’s all.”
“Well I’m sure she had nothing to say.”
“Why can’t we speak to her?” Harry asked sweetly. “Can’t be any harm in it, can there?”
Miller set off towards the car. “Come on. It’s time we got back to Chengde. I’ll drop you at the bus station. The trip’s over.”
Damage limitation was in order. Harry thought quickly. “I’m sorry if we have inconvenienced you, Clive,” he said. “Both of us appreciate you taking the time out to bring us here. Don’t we Lisa?”
She looked at him quizzically. Got the message. “Yes. Thank you, Clive. It was kind of you.”
The balm was starting to work. Still sulking, Miller got into the car and slammed his door. The other two followed. He wound down the window and barked something at the police chief who surveyed the passengers with deep suspicion, nodded and walked away.
“I hope no harm will come to the woman for trying to speak to us,” Lisa said.
“Don’t be absurd,” Miller snapped, gunning the motor and starting away from the village. “Why on earth would any harm come to her?”
“I only meant, the policeman seemed upset by her.”
“She’s mad. He was concerned for your safety. She’s well known here. A nutter. Much as Mrs Yan was.”
“I presume you know what happened to Mrs Yan?” Harry said.
“No. Why on earth should I?” Miller snapped. “What did happen to her?”
Harry briefly related his night time walk through the underpass, the encounter with the two undercover policemen, and Mrs Yan’s suicide. Miller’s surprise was well presented.
“Why that’s terrible. And you say you saw the two policemen on the bus to Chengde?”
Harry nodded.
“Well don’t expect me to be able to shed any light on that. It sounds a ghastly business. Whatever it was about though, has nothing to do with this village. Or that mad woman, for that matter.”
“The two are related?” Harry asked.
“No idea. Don’t think so.” Miller shot the car dangerously down the track. The tyres skidded. Behind them the dust spun into a great cloud, hiding the village from sight. “Everyone around here’s mad. Sometimes I think I’ve been in China too long,” Miller snapped.
Harry decided to leave him to it. He had thoughts of his own.
The drive back to the villa seemed to take no time at all. They made a brief stop to pick up their luggage and then set off back towards the city. It was a little after noon by the time they pulled into the bus station. The drive had given Miller an opportunity to calm down. There was even a return of the smile he had worn when they had first met in the police station. He had grown calmer the further he had got from the village.
He walked with them to the ticket office and offered to buy their tickets. They declined his kindness but thanked him profusely.
&
nbsp; “Well goodbye then,” he said, shaking them both by the hand. “And Harry, do give me a call if you want to think about my offer.” He handed Harry his card. “My mobile number’s on it. English on one side, Chinese on the other.”
Harry assumed he meant the offer of consultancy work as Miller’s functionary. He couldn’t imagine anything worse. Even working for Brannigan and his control freak boss would be preferable.
They watched him walk back to his car. He got in. As he drove off he was making a call. Hunched over both steering wheel and phone, the smile had gone again, like a weak sun behind thick and threatening cloud.
Harry and Lisa stood together, the bustle of the bus station surging around them. “How long have we got before our bus?” she asked.
“Who’s going on a bus?” Harry replied.
“Us?”
“You’ve got to be kidding. This is far too much fun.” He looked at Lisa. She saw his expression and smiled.
“Did you hear what that woman said to you?” he asked.
“No. Sadly not. The police chief intervened before I could catch it.”
They picked up their bags and moved away from the buses. A new arrival had pulled up to one side and was disgorging its passengers. Their own was loading on the far side of it.
Harry thought back to one thing that had been niggling at him since their drive away from the village. “Did you notice something odd about Mrs Yan’s village?” he said.
Lisa considered. “Lots of things. What in particular?”
“There were no children,” Harry said. “Not one.”
Twenty Three
The taxi pulled up outside Herbert Zhu’s apartment block. The same children were scrabbling on the dusty cracked pavement outside. The same washing hung from the same balconies, engrained with the same soot from the road and local traffic.
Harry and Lisa stepped into the lobby and looked up at the dismal stairwell. They set off, trudging up from floor to floor. On the way they met a woman and her young child coming the other way. As they neared, she pressed herself against the wall and hugged her child to her as if they were abductors. Harry tried a smile. She avoided eye contact, staring stonily at the ground. Only her child looked up at him. He tried the smile on him. The little boy glared back. There was anger, fear and curiosity rolled together in his eyes.
