“Patrick’s father?”
“Was a trustee of the Whittingdale Trust until just before he died.”
“Huckleberry Finn! Surely they can’t all be up to their eyes in this together.” Her mind started to race. “What’re we saying here? That Mantel or Silverman might have been behind the missing million at Whittingdale? It’s too mad to think about at this time of night.”
“I really don’t know. I’m meeting your friend Pitcher tonight, although he’s busy chasing Triads across London as far as I can see.”
“No, a few crooked bankers wouldn’t excite him. He’d see that as business as usual – or rather a job for the City boys. Why did Halamanning leave Hemmings?”
“He was sacked, some dishonesty. Still trying to find out what. No charges as far as I can see.”
“Great – keep digging.”
“I’ll let you know how I get on.”
“Yes, meanwhile I’ll try to get in to see Mantel in the morning. I know just where to find him. Who knows? It might be my lucky day? It’s time I had a break.”
CHAPTER 39
Monday August 23
Hong Kong
JULIA ROSE AT 5.30AM, washed, dressed quickly, and dashed out the hotel, stopping only to ask the doorman to call a cab to take her to Upper House Hotel in Admiralty. Ten minutes later she entered the glitzy venue, and crossed Reception looking like she knew precisely where she was heading – which she did. Directions to the Power Business Breakfast on the 49th floor pointed to a lift, which whizzed her to the Sky Lounge.
She recognised Mantel immediately; perma-tanned, sharp-suited and with dark good looks. He wore an orchid in his top pocket. Scofield Crisp stood nearby with his back to her, drinking in the glimmering view across the water to the mountains.
Power Breakfast indeed! If it’s dynamism he seeks, I can shock it to him.
Julia weaved a determined path through the tables set for guests, and advanced towards the podium at the top of the room where Mantel sat, sorting out papers. Crisp turned as he heard footsteps.
“Julia, fancy seeing you again so soon. What brings you here?” he said, slightly disarmed. “Are you joining us for breakfast?”
Mantel raised his eyes from the table.
“Warwick, this is Julia Lighthorn,” Crisp continued. “Remember, the London journalist who came to Hong Kong to write about Peak about a week ago wasn’t it? I thought you’d gone home.”
“I did. I’m back, and no – I’m not here for your sycophantic breakfast. I’ve come to talk about Walter Halamanning, Mr Mantel. My time’s short. I want answers.”
Mantel stretched a fake grin across his thin lips, and laughed artificially.
“Are you always this aggressive, my dear? Hardly the best way to win friends and influence people.”
“I’m not here to win friends. But I’m happy to embarrass you in front of your little gathering.”
“Warwick,” Crisp seized the initiative. “We’re both free at 11am. Why don’t we see Julia back at the office?”
Warwick said nothing.
“After all, we like to be helpful to visiting analysts and journalists, and our guests will start arriving any minute.”
Mantel cleared his voice. “OK, 11am in our offices,” he looked over Julia’s head, to make her feel small.
“Please leave the Rottweiler at home. We’ll all get on much better.”
MANTEL’S CHARM offensive was up full volume, when she entered his office on the dot of 11am.
“I’m so sorry, my dear, we seem to get off on the wrong foot this morning. If it was my fault, I humbly apologise. Perhaps you’re tired. I’m guessing your trip to Guangzhou didn’t quite work out as you might’ve liked?”
How did they know about my trip? Julia wondered, instantly on a back foot.
Mantel gestured for Julia to sit.
“Small town – everyone knows everything in Hong Kong. No secrets.”
“Really? Here’s me thinking Hong Kong did secrets like no one else. And thank you I’ll stand.”
“You didn’t find Laura Wan Sun, I take it?” he continued. “Lovely girl. My cleverest protégée ever. A big disappointment when she gave it all up. Sorry you had a wasted trip.”
Crisp leant forward and softened his voice. “I’m genuinely sorry to hear Laura is over the border. We’re all very fond of her. With this virus, she would be safer back in Hong Kong. Will you try again d’ you think?”
Am I hearing genuine concern in his voice? Julia wondered.
“I’m not sure. Maybe.”
“We can put out some feelers, if that would help.” Mantel spoke next. “Why are you so determined to find her?”
“London wants to speak to her about Adam Lee’s murder. Friends fear she could be in danger.”
A menacing laugh gurgled deep in his throat.
“That’s ludicrous. I’m afraid sweet Laura is most definitely in danger from this killer virus the longer she stays in China. To suggest a role she played as a junior banker a decade ago has any implications in a serious crime today is absurd.”
“Absurd is it Mr Mantel?” Julia lurched towards him, deliberately getting up close. “Economies around the world have gone into meltdown. People are watching fortunes wiped out. Adam Lee dead. If there are no secrets in Hong Kong, please tell me what all this is about?”
“I admire your imagination, truly I do,” he replied, edging back slightly. “Trust me – there’s no connection between any of this, or with us.”
“Walter Halamanning?” Julia eyeballed Mantel. He didn’t flinch. She sensed Crisp was studying his boss closely too.
Mantel shrugged. “I worked with Walter thirty years ago at the start of my career. He was financial director of Hemmings. I was new to the game. He appointed me his personal assistant. Fast-tracked me up the bank. They were good times. But...”
“He was sacked wasn’t he?” Julia interrupted. “For dishonesty.”
“There were some discrepancies in a couple of accounts. This is ancient history. Nothing ever came to court.”
“It would’ve done in London or New York.”
“Maybe. We weren’t in London or New York. We’re talking decades ago. He went back to London and picked up his career.”
Julia narrowed her eyes slightly. “He was found axed to death in a forest in Epping. Local police see hallmarks of a Triad killing. They think the same about Lee. Connections, connections. Both men lead back to you Mr Mantel.”
Didn’t even blink, Julia thought. This hadn’t come as news to Mantel.
Julia watched Crisp from the corner of her vision. Blood drained from his face.
“I’m glad I’m not a former associate of yours Mr Mantel,” Julia spoke softly. “It seems a dangerous occupation.”
This time he lashed out. “I resent that. It’s time for you to go. Repeat slander against me and I’ll set my lawyers on you. Then you’ll find out just how dangerous it can be to...”
“Julia, let me show you out,” Crisp’s voice was calm and courteous, but she could see he was shaken.
Julia wasn’t ready to call a truce. “Are you connected to any Triads?” Julia shouted at Mantel. “First State bankrolled a number of so-called secret organisations. How heavily is Peak involved?”
“I assure you Peak is not involved in any criminal activities,” Crisp said, steering her towards the door.
She heard Mantel erupt into a roar of sinister laughter. “Good luck with your hunt for Laura,” he bellowed. “You’ll need luck chasing the shadow of a dead woman.”
EXHAUSTED BY the early start and adrenaline drain of the morning, Julia decided to go straight back to the hotel. Washed up, she had no idea what to do next.
Maybe it’s time to take a break. Have a night off, and relax over a quiet supper with Richard and his pals at the Foreign Correspondents’ Club, she thought, unlocking her hotel door.
She made coffee, and collapsed on the bed, hugging her knees close for comfort, when her p
hone buzzed. Another text from the gynae clinic.
We need to see you. Please call to make an appointment as soon as possible.
She deleted it with one quick stroke. One thing that will have to wait.
She hadn’t been back long when the phone rang. It was Ziggy.
“Look Julia, I’m sorry about yesterday. It didn’t turn out how either of us wanted. D’you fancy another go? I’ve picked up a fresh lead. There’s a chance Laura may be in a camp in Guangxi – in the mountains. We could go tomorrow on the train.”
Julia threw back her head and laughed. “You must be mad if you think I’d go anywhere with you again.”
“My informant tells me they’re going to start evacuating the camp in a few days. If you want to find Laura we must go now.”
“Are you deaf?”
“I know you’re disappointed. Look, I’m going – with or without you. She has dual British-Chinese citizenship. I’ve booked tickets for us both for the 9.30am train to Guilin in the morning. I’ll wait for you at Kowloon station at 8.30am. If you want to make the trip, be there.”
Julia slammed down the phone, and stood with her back to the wall, thinking hard. I don’t trust Ziggy, she thought, I’ve no idea who he’s working for, or what his agenda is. Is there even a viral unit there?
She felt worn out and completely alone. Suddenly a light bulb switched on, she grasped her phone and dialled a number.
“Julia, how did you get on in Guangzhou?” Dr Kathy said at the other end.
“Hi Dr Kathy. We followed Laura’s trail, as you suggested, but...”
“It fizzled out. That’s China for you. Events always moving faster than you can keep up.”
“At least we confirmed she started at the International Hospital and transferred to the viral unit.”
“It’s something I guess. The big question is where’s she working now?”
“I may have a new lead. There’s a chance she may be in the Guangxi mountains. Is that possible?”
“Very possible. Some years ago there were rumours of a mystery illness in the mountains. It’s possible it was an early outbreak of bird flu, and it’s resurfaced.”
“I have the chance to go there tomorrow. I’m going to sleep on it.”
“That must be your decision Julia. It will be dangerous. If you decide to go, take my very best luck with you.”
Julia spent the night tossing and turning, trying to talk herself out of catching the train. When she woke at 6.30am, she sat bolt upright.
“I don’t like him, I don’t trust him...but I don’t have any other choice.”
CHAPTER 40
8.30am Tuesday August 24
Kowloon station
TO DESCRIBE AS MIXED her emotions at the sight of Ziggy had to be the understatement of the century. I must be out of my mind, Julia thought, as he waved at her. She couldn’t even summon up a fake smile, but advanced towards him with a heavy heart.
“Nil desperandum, as you Brits like to say,” he greeted her, with a smile. “We’ll have better luck today. I feel it in my bones.”
She followed him into the station, walking a few paces behind as they headed for the train.
“I’ll pick up our tickets at the machine. Then just endless hurdles of security to leapfrog,” he said, with a smile. “Can I get you a coffee to go? Price of coffee on the train is criminal.”
Julia gritted her teeth, aware how hard he was trying to break the ice. She sighed. I can’t spend the entire day without speaking to him. We’ll need to communicate on some level, to stop the trip ending in yet another disaster.
“Thank you, yes,” she smiled a truce. “Let’s get coffee and pastry. I didn’t have any breakfast. Why don’t I get these, while you sort out the tickets?”
She went to a Western-looking bakery and, with a bit of pointing and nodding, emerged with their breakfast, just as Ziggy hit the front of the ticket queue. They proceeded towards departure, where long lines waited to validate tickets.
Julia half-expected police to arrive, out of nowhere, and haul them off, but they were waved through with nothing more than normal hostile efficiency.
Once in their seats, Julia handed coffee and a pastry to her travelling companion.
“I’ll pay you for the ticket when we get back,” she said.
“If you wish. I wouldn’t want to compromise your impartiality...”
“Exactly. Will we have problems at the border, though, if we’re now on police radar?” she asked, sipping her tepid drink.
“Technically we’ve just gone through the border. That’s what all those checks were about.”
“Yes but...” she began.
“Relax Julia. People do get fished off the train and sent back to Hong Kong. I know that as well as you. No point worrying. If it happens, it happens. You’re a British citizen. They won’t line you up against a wall and shoot you,” he paused. “Tempting though that may be.”
He laughed, eyes dancing mischievously.
I don’t know what it is about you, she thought, anger melting. Despite her near-certainty that Ziggy was a double-crossing, treacherous, probable agent of the communist regime, there was a side to him she couldn’t resist. But then, she could never resist anyone with a good sense of humour.
Their new light mood didn’t last long – or rather it lasted another forty minutes. As the train approached the Shenzhen border, the crossing into the People’s Republic, Julia spotted two uniformed police, one man, one woman, enter the carriage and walk in their direction.
She looked at Ziggy, who winked at her.
The male officer had bad scarring down his face. It reminded her of Wo Chang at the Golden Pagoda.
Once level with their seats the officers started an animated conversation with Ziggy, who answered politely, shaking his head calmly and repeatedly. Intermittently the woman officer pointed aggressively at Julia, but Ziggy refused to be provoked or budge. Finally, the male officer exploded with something that sounded like an official warning, turned on clipped heels and marched away. The woman followed him.
“What’s all that about?”
“D’you really want to know?”
“Hadn’t I better?”
Ziggy took a deep breath.
“You won’t like it,” he swallowed. “They want to turf us out and send us back to Hong Kong.”
“And?”
“I serenely explained we are entitled to travel, have legitimate tickets and our paperwork is in order.”
“I see.”
“Then I explained it again and again and again, until they departed.”
“They now know we’re on the train and where we’re going.”
Ziggy’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “My dear Julia, they always did.”
The high-speed train weaved its path through flat dry plains, gobbling up mile after mile of drab landscape, before breaking into lush fertile valleys, edged by distant mountains. Before long, they were pulling into Guilin station. They got their masks out and prepared to leave the train. Passengers poured off on mass and Julia found herself squeezed up against Ziggy, trapped in the crowd swarming down the platform. Sun burned down on them – the heat unbearable. I can’t breathe, Julia thought, fearing a migraine as dazzling rays flickered through her Polaroids. Ziggy smiled encouragingly.
They emerged from the station into a blistering sun. Huckleberry Finn, I’d no idea sun could be this hot. Julia watched as other passengers quickly shot up umbrellas to protect themselves from the burning rays. The air was thin, breathing further constrained by the masks.
“I’ve ordered a car. The driver should be here somewhere,” Ziggy said, looking around.
A man in his early 30s walked up to them and spoke to Ziggy. He led them to a silver VW Jetta and opened a door for Julia.
“I left the air-con running,” he said in faultless English. “It should be cool. My name’s Hill. Welcome to Guilin.”
He got into the car, put it into gear and pulled calmly out the car
park.
“I’m Economics graduate. Sometimes I teach class – sometimes I drive taxi. We have many tourists to this region. English drivers are in great demand. I earn more driving taxi than teaching class.”
“Thank you, Hill,” Ziggy said in English. “My companion doesn’t speak any Chinese.”
“We should teach her,” Hill smiled. “First she choose which language. We speak Mandarin, or Cantonese. In the rural areas, the people of the villages speak different dialects. My wife comes from one of the Yao villages in the mountains, where I think you want to visit. Many different dialects again. I can understand my in-laws just about – but with speaking I’m not so good.”
“Probably best when it comes to in-laws,” Julia said. They sniggered. She gazed out the window at the bustling City going about its business – so different from the soulless metropolis of Guangzhou.
Young people on bikes streamed along boulevards lined with Chinese Banyan trees.
“Angel tears,” Julia gasped as she pointed to the weeping aerial roots. “Or maybe witches’ locks. It’s so beautiful. Reminds me of big French cities. Commercial yet elegant.”
“The key thing to remember if you want to understand our region is we are not part of China,” Hill spoke over his shoulder.
“Excuse me?”
“No, life is much more relaxed here because we are part of the autonomous region of Guangxi Zhuang. The city is industrial, just like in the West, pharmaceuticals, IT, machine tools and so on. But also very beautiful with two rivers, many lakes, mountains and forests. Our name means Forest of Sweet Osmanthus.”
“Because you have so many fragrant Osmanthus trees?” Ziggy said.
“Indeed.”
“How long will it take us to get to the Yao people?”
Julia asked.
“Four or five hours if we’re lucky.”
“So we can get there before dark?”
“No, no, we leave very early in the morning. Must get there before the heat of the day or too tiring for you.”
“I need to go straight there,” Julia repeated.
Take A Thousand Cuts Page 20
