“Don't waste your pity on him,” Pitcher said, when he called to compliment him on the piece. “He's swanned round the City for decades picking up lucrative board positions, way beyond his capability.”
“It doesn’t get us any nearer to discovering what happened to the money, and why Halamanning was murdered.”
“Nor what the orchid means.”
“Inspector,” Cody began, hesitating, “You do know that orchids are sometimes a calling card of the Triads.”
CHAPTER 35
7am Saturday August 21
Hong Kong
ZIGGY DROPPED Julia at the Foreign Correspondents’ Club. Good riddance to him, she thought, stepping inside. The woman at Reception recognised her and waved her through. Just as well, as my temporary membership card has expired. Must apply for full membership and pay fee as soon as.
She drank deep the atmosphere of the bar. How wonderful to be back. Like coming home. How I love this place. The wood, the fans, the cartoons, the award-winning editorials – each held a special welcome for her.
She ordered a coffee to ward off jet lag, found a quiet table, and dialled Kathy’s number.
“I’m back in Hong Kong. Any chance of meeting up?”
“Sure,” Kathy seemed eager. “Same place – Botanical Gardens, King George statue. I can be there for 9 o’clock.”
She was enjoying her coffee when her mobile buzzed. It was a text from London. Must’ve been delayed on the flight, she thought, quickly scrawling through the message. It was from the gynae clinic, informing her the annual test had shown some abnormalities and letting her know more tests were being conducted.
Huckleberry Finn, what’s that about? There’s no cancer in our family. She shrugged off a worrying niggle, setting off for the uphill climb through the gardens. It was even hotter than Julia remembered. Though still early, the sun burnt down overhead. She was tired and dehydrated from the flight.
I can hardly breathe in this tropical climate. Sweat slithered between her shoulder blades.
She paused to catch her breath, the sweet smell of exotic blooms wafting through the air. The sound of crazy laughter crackled from the direction of the De Brazza’s monkeys. He Len’s ugly features loomed before her, and she shuddered.
Poor monkeys, she thought. It’s not their fault the bad guys stole their name.
Kathy was waiting for her by the statue. She waved when she saw Julia.
How elegant and serene she looks, Julia thought.
“Good to see you again,” Kathy clasped her hand in friendship.
“Good to be back…I think.”
“You look hot and tired, shall we go down to the fountain? It’ll be cooler there.”
Julia nodded. When they reached the fountain, she stood for a few minutes under the deliciously-cool jet spray.
“So refreshing,” she said, sitting beside Kathy on a bench. “How are you keeping? Well?”
“Well enough. What brings you back so soon?”
“Work, and curiosity. Hear any more about Laura?”
Kathy bit her lip. “No, and news of bird flu is harder to come by than ever. We suspect the Government is not honest about the numbers dying. I fear any news, when it comes, can only be bad.”
“I’m thinking of going into mainland China to see if I can find her. It would be an interesting trip for me. People in London want her found. They fear she might be in danger.”
“For sure, she’s in danger. That’s what we’re all worried about.” Kathy’s face darkened. “Avian flu is deadly and she’s in the front line. The official Chinese statistics are a pack of lies. According to our medical back-channels it’s spreading virulently. It breaks my heart to say this,” Kathy’s chin trembled. “If Laura were alive, I’m sure she would have got news through by now.”
“Then help me make the trip,” Julia pleaded. “If I hit dead ends, I’ll give up and go home. At least I’ll have tried.”
They sat staring into the fountain, listening to the whooshing sound of its reviving jets. Kathy pulled a bag onto her lap, opened it, and took out some papers.
“I know she intended to head for Guangzhou. I’ve a friend in the International Hospital, a British doctor. He confirms she arrived there, but was sent to one of the specialist viral units. You can catch a high- speed train direct. Hardly an hour. I’ll call my friend, Dr James Lippert. He’ll be a good place to start.”
“Thank you. That’s what the West used to call Canton, isn’t it? I’ll book a ticket to go tomorrow. I need to sleep first.”
“Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“Is that a problem? Won’t the trains run?”
“Yes, they run every day of the year. I need to check Dr Lippert will be at the hospital. If you want to stay a few days, James will help you find accommodation.”
“That would be helpful. I’m not sure how long I’ll need to stay.”
Kathy’s tone changed – her smile replaced by a worried frown. “I must warn you Julia. The virus is spreading. It’s dangerous. If you’re determined to go, you must minimise your time in the infected area. Leave as soon as you can. This is a killer disease.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Don’t forget, you must also get in and out before the authorities are on to what you’re up to. Is there someone who could go with you? I would come, but I can’t leave the hospital.”
“Of course, you’ve done enough.”
They said goodbye. Kathy walked away, leaving Julia to enjoy the cool breeze of the fountain for a few moments more. She wondered about calling the gynae clinic but dismissed the thought.
It’ll be fine and I need to get myself in gear.
She opened a map and worked out a route to the hotel. Thankfully her path was down hill, and she reached the Pottinger, in the heart of the central district, in about twenty minutes. It occupied a prime position in an ancient cobbled street at the crossroads between the new and old city. For all its luxurious glamour, it retained a hint of past mysteries. Her luggage was waiting in Reception.
“All part of the service,” the bellboy said. Surges of tiredness closed her eyes as she queued to register.
Come on, wake up, no time for jet lag.
Her room was chic but compact. “This is what I need,” Julia mumbled as she set the coffee machine in motion. She took the cup to the table near the window, fired up her laptop and reserved a seat on the following morning’s train heading for Guangzhou.
Her next move was to call Richard.
“You’re back,” he greeted her. “Didn’t think you’d miss us quite this much.”
“Haha, very funny. Yes, I’m back, for good or ill. But I need to ask you a huge favour.”
“Shoot.”
“Not now. Can we get together later? Could you come to the Foreign Correspondents’ Club?”
“Sure. What about an early supper – say 6pm?”
“Cool, see you there.”
Julia hung up and turned to check her Inbox. There was an email from Ludgate. Short and concise. She read it aloud.
“I have today accepted the resignation of Matthew Hopkins.”
Nothing more. No eloquent thanks for service, or praise for the extraordinary talents of the demised member of staff – customary even when someone is sacked. No attempt to save anyone’s face or reputation. The message was clear – dismissed in disgrace.
“I did try and warn him,” she said to her screen. “And you Andrew. Neither of you would listen.”
She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes for a few moments. Jet lag knocked her out for the count. She sank into a heavy slumber, and woke with a shock.
“Damn – it’s 5.15pm already,” she cursed, walking briskly to the bathroom, for a quick shower, before heading out to meet Richard.
SHE ARRIVED first, ordered a couple of drinks, found a table and killed a few minutes browsing an English language business magazine. She gasped then burst out laughing when she saw a glossy advert for a Power Business Breakfast the day after tomo
rrow – tickets US$1,500. Keynote speaker was none other than Warwick Mantel.
Croissants must be solid gold at that price, she thought.
Her phone buzzed as a text from Kathy landed. James Lippert in hospital next few days. Looks forward to seeing you.
Richard walked in, grinning, broadly. “You must be overjoyed,” he said sitting opposite, swigging thirstily from his drink. He, too, had crossed swords with Matthew Hopkins. “Nothing more satisfying than watching a treacherous back-stabber bite the dust. Gloating isn’t the word.”
Julia couldn’t resist a wry smile, but she quickly straightened her expression.
“You’re wrong about gloating.”
Richard threw her a sceptical look.
“OK. Once, you would’ve been right. I would’ve danced on Hopkins’ grave. But I’ve bigger fish to fry. My world’s been revolving non-stop since I saw you last.”
“I saw your analysis of the crash. Mind-boggling – but sound. Where’d it come from?”
Julia laughed. “Come on, you know better than that. Deep source. Remind me to tell you one day – in about a decade.”
“We followed it up,” Richard nodded warmly. “Hard to believe, but definitely struck a nerve of truth. Are we eating?”
“I’m so jet-lagged I hardly know what time it is, let alone what meal.”
“Then you should eat,” Richard picked up the menu. “You’ll feel better on a full stomach.” He went to the bar, ordered some food and returned with two more glasses.
“So what else?” he put a white wine in front of her.
“No you first. What impact did the collapse of First State have here?”
Richard shook his head. “No contagion so far. Some kickback. Street attacks on low-level bank staff. People are angry.”
“Punishment beatings? Senior directors?”
“Gone, we still don’t know where. Anyone locked up at home yet, for presiding over the most catastrophic banking crash for a century?”
“Not so far. We can live in hope. Everything’s in chaos.”
“What about Square Mile? You’ve a new owner I see. Perfect time to swoop. Share price of most newspapers in low pence – those still standing that is.”
“Indeed, which brings me to the favour. I need to go to Guangzhou tomorrow. I’ve booked a seat.”
“Tomorrow? Sunday?”
“I think it’ll work. The trains run as normal, my interviewee is free to see me.”
Julia stopped as food arrived. She had doubted she could eat, but at the sight of crunchy vegetables, and steaming beef noodles she realised her stomach was empty.
“Still looking for the mysterious Laura?” Richard asked, as he poked chow mein into his mouth.
“Yes, but this time on the orders of the management. No longer lone-ranger.”
“That’s good to hear. How can I help?”
Julia put down her chop sticks.
“Will you come with me? I’m going to struggle without any language or any idea how to deal with Chinese bureaucracy. Even coping with the transport. You know your way round. I might only be gone a day or so – not a long trip. Surely you can make some excuse about need for research to get time out of the office?”
Richard stopped eating but, using his chop sticks, he slowly moved his food around in the sauce.
“Please Richard,” Julia pleaded. “It would be such a help. I’ll pay you. Cover your expenses. I could pay a freelance fee. I’ve got money.”
He flexed his jaw and sighed.
“Julia, I can’t come with you. The authorities know me, a bit too well. The minute I stepped on that train, they’d be watching. We’d probably be turned back at the border. You’ve a much better chance of slipping through on your own. I’m so sorry. You have to do this alone.”
Julia’s stomach tightened. She was gutted – even though deep down she knew Richard was right. This was one journey she had to make alone
CHAPTER 36
Sunday August 22
JULIA CHECKED email first thing, and opened one from Cody, which she read with widening eyes.
Pitcher says the body hanging in the wood at Chigwell is the missing Treasurer of the Whittingdale fund. See Story attached.
She clicked on the file. “Huckleberry Finn, the shocks just keep coming,” she said aloud, before adding, “Good boy, Cody – not a bad job and heaps of initiative.”
Her return email said: Fantastically well done. Gold stars all round. Keep going. Drill deep into Halamanning. Listen carefully to Pitcher. You won’t get anything from the Charity Commission or the Fraud Squad. Keep digging, and stay in touch. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
Julia slammed her laptop shut, quickly showered, packed her bag, and headed down to reception, where she checked out, leaving her luggage in safe-keeping. She carried a few overnight things in a small shoulder bag in case she couldn’t get back. She took a taxi to Kowloon’s giant railway depot. It was vast and crowded. Julia decided to follow the crowds and hope for the best.
The strategy worked. Soon she was passing through various airport-style security and immigration desks. Railway staff seemed to pity her sense of drift, and tried to help, shouting at her hurriedly in incomprehensible Chinese – always with a smile. They steered her through with much patience and compassion, until she found herself in a giant lounge more like an airport than a railway waiting room, with destination boards on every wall. She sat near the gate for Guangzhou – one word she could read. She guessed her train was called when other passengers nearby her stood in panic, and massed for an exit. More checks and she was finally allowed aboard.
How to find my seat? Helpful stewardesses were on hand every few yards. One directed her to a carriage, pointed to the number on her ticket, then showed her where it would appear above her seat. The carriage was packed, so she had to queue to find her place. When the queue cleared she stumbled with astonishment. Swallowing hard, she rubbed her eyes in disbelief. Sitting in the aisle seat next to hers was a grinning Ziggy, waving an enthusiastic hello.
“I don’t believe this,” she exploded. “Are you following me?” She leant across him and slammed her bag on her seat.
“Following you? Why would I follow you? I saw you’re going to Guangzhou today. I’ve a meeting myself at the university. I thought it would be hospitable to make your journey as pleasant and memorable as possible,” he paused, pointing to her bag. “I think you’ll be more comfortable if you place this in the luggage compartment.”
She grabbed it with a jerk. “How d’you know about my travel plans?”
Ziggy smiled. “Julia, this is China. I’m the British Ambassador’s nephew. You’re British. Why d’you think I wouldn’t know? You must stop thinking like a Brit and more like a Chinese citizen if you want to go into the PRC and come back again under your own steam.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re staying as a guest in my country. I care everything should go as smoothly as possible. Surely you must welcome some company when travelling so far from home in a country whose language you can neither read nor speak, of whose customs you’ve no understanding?”
“No, I don’t want your help or your company,” Julia struggled with the overhead locker. “I’ll be perfectly OK on my own. I’ve got this far haven’t I?”
Ziggy stood, took the bag from her, and put it effortlessly in the luggage store. She noticed a faint tattoo on the inside of his arm. It looked like a magpie. He signalled for her to move into her own seat, and waited a diplomatic amount of time before sitting beside her.
“Why d’you keep pestering me?” she hissed in whisper, so other passengers would not hear.
Ziggy took a deep breath and spoke softly. “Julia I ask you again sincerely to reconsider your position. You’re a clever girl. Can’t you see the folly of your stubbornness? In London, we’re friends. In China, we’re friends. I can get you in and out of the People’s Republic. Without me, you won’t make it past
the border. It’s your decision.”
Julia rubbed her lip. He’s right, she thought. I’ll never manage this trip alone.
“If you’re determined to go alone...” he stood, reached for his jacket, and turned to leave. “Enjoy your trip.”
Julia panicked and stretched out a hand. “No. Stay.”
He sat with a sigh. “I wish you’d trust me.”
“Trusting isn’t what we journalists go in for much,” she said, attempting a smile.
The train pulled away, and they rolled on together for about twenty minutes.
“What’s the plan for your trip?” Ziggy eventually spoke.
Julia explained she hoped to visit a friend of a friend, and she would begin with an interview with a British doctor, James Lippert at the International Hospital.
“He’s expecting me,” she said.
“Good. If it’s convenient, you can share my taxi. We’ll be there before too long. I suggest we sit back and relax.”
No one bothered them at the border. The train chundered on through largely flat valleys – hills a distant shadow.
Such a vast country, she thought. But where are the people?
“Ten minutes until we pull in,” Ziggy said. “One more thing, I should warn you Julia. There’s a virus on the loose. It’s dangerous to visit Guangzhou at all, particularly if we’re going to a hospital. We have to take great care. I’ve some facemasks. It makes sense to use them. Without wishing to sound too dramatic, our lives from hereon in are in danger every step of the way.”
CHAPTER 37
THEY JOINED THE CRUSH of passengers pouring out of the train and jostled along the platform with the fast-moving mob. No sign it was Sunday – no church bells ringing as they emerged from the station.
Where to now? Julia wondered.
Ziggy walked ahead, slightly tense, as if looking for someone or something. Then he relaxed and waved at a man holding a board with Chinese writing that Julia could not read.
“I arranged a car and driver,” he said. “It’s the only practical way to get around our cities.”
Take A Thousand Cuts Page 18
