Okay then.
Cornelius thought about it and nodded. “Fair enough. Let’s talk about your mistakes on July 15th.”
Tatyana sighed. “Fine. MII’s report will say that I spent the day at the office. And I did. But I also left for two hours and saw Felix at the Tower.”
“The Assembly’s visitor log for that day doesn’t show your name,” Cornelius said.
“I met him in the parking lot.”
“Why?” Cornelius asked.
“He wanted to shut down the Pit. He demanded an emergency meeting that Thursday and argued that the Pit wasn’t safe. He thought there was something terrible in there. Something we didn’t understand. We unanimously voted against shutting it down.”
Cornelius nodded. “Why did you vote against it?”
Tatyana sighed again. “Well, there is the money. We’re in deep. More importantly, House Pierce can’t afford a failure. You know how things work. Adam set us on fire. Now everything we touch is smudged with soot. We live under a microscope. If we failed in the Pit, it would be a disaster. There would be speculation and articles in the media about how we are finished as a House and how everything we get involved in turns to crap. We’ve made enemies. We have business rivals. We can’t appear weak, so we have to make the Pit work.”
“What did you and Felix talk about?” Cornelius asked.
“On Thursday there was this look in his eyes. I know the look. It’s when you hunch your shoulders and barrel through no matter what anyone says. I met him because I wanted to talk him out of whatever he wanted to do.”
“Did he agree?” Cornelius asked.
“No. He wouldn’t tell me what he was doing. He just said that it was for the common good and that I would understand. I got frustrated. I raised my voice. I don’t know if there were witnesses.”
She wasn’t lying. I would bet a lot more than a dollar on it.
Cornelius nodded again. “What did you do afterward?”
“I went back to the office. I was angry, and I left early and went home.”
“Can anyone confirm that?” Cornelius asked.
“You can pull the cell phone data. I called Peter on the way and vented. Of course, he is family, so his testimony would be suspect. I got home, made a drink, and then got into a stupid Facebook fight with some moron over politics. That took half an hour. Once I vented, I ended up buying a book and spent the rest of the evening reading it. My brain needed a vacation.”
“What kind of a book?” Cornelius asked.
“Tower Inferno. It’s a detective series about a PI who solves crimes committed by Primes.” Tatyana’s face was completely flat. “The killer was a pyrokinetic this time. Supposedly, the writer based it on Adam.”
Cornelius raised his eyebrows. “Did it stand up to scrutiny?”
“No. Adam was never that idealistic. Also, the writer has no idea what it takes to set up a House spell capable of incinerating five city blocks in ten minutes. They never get the magic right.”
Cornelius turned to me. “Anything to add?”
I took a photograph of Felix’s corpse from my purse, unfolded it, and passed it to her. “How long would you have to burn the body with a Helios X4 flamethrower to cause this damage?”
Tatyana took the photograph, studied it, and frowned. “This was done by someone who doesn’t understand how a flamethrower works. Flamethrowers are designed to set structures on fire. They expel a stream of flammable liquid, which sticks to surfaces and can be bounced around, allowing projection of fire into tight spaces like inside a bunker. They are great for flushing out tunnels. they also make effective psychological weapons because everyone fears fire.”
Tatyana held the picture up and pointed to Felix’s charred feet.
“This person tried to use it like a blow torch. They probably wanted a jet of flame to torture Felix. Burn him, stop, burn him again, and so on until he told them what they wanted. Instead they squirted accelerant onto Felix’s legs and, judging by the damage, probably emptied the entire canister. Then they set him on fire. Once he started burning, there was no way to put him out. Even if you dipped him in water, the accelerant wouldn’t wash off. So as far as torture goes, this is a lousy attempt.”
“Thank you.” I got up.
“Is that it?” Tatyana asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Is there something in the Pit?” Tatyana asked.
“Yes.”
“So Felix was right.” Tatyana’s face fell. “We were his partners. He came to us for help, and we shot him down, and now he’s dead.”
It didn’t require a response. “Thank you again. We will keep you informed. We’ll show ourselves out.”
Outside Cornelius squinted at the sunshine. “It pains me to say this, but I don’t believe she did it.”
“I don’t think so either.”
Cornelius’ sister was right. With Tatyana, what you saw was what you got. All things considered, I would take Tatyana’s bluntness over Cheryl’s soft, passive-aggressive chiding any day.
“Thank you for doing the interview,” I told him.
“Thank you for honoring my request. It was cathartic for me.”
“I also have a request,” I said.
“Please tell me.”
“Patricia told me she spoke to you about Arkan.”
He nodded. “She did.”
“These are the kind of people who aim at the most vulnerable spots. They’re trying to cripple us, and nothing is off the table, the innocent, the elderly, children . . .”
He smiled his small smile. “Are you asking me to hide?”
“I have utmost respect for your magic, and I know Matilda is safe with your sister, but if something happened to your daughter or you because of us, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“Would it make things easier for you if I joined Diana and Matilda on the ranch?”
I didn’t even try to hide my relief. “Yes.”
“On one condition,” Cornelius said. “You will call me if you need my help.”
“I will.”
He smiled again. “I will hold you to it.”
We walked down the path. I checked my phone. Alessandro hadn’t texted.
Was he hurt? Maybe he was dead. Who knew what kind of nightmare Linus dragged him into?
I texted him. Are you alive?
No answer.
I clenched my teeth and headed to the bench where my sister and cousin waited for us.
Like all water mages, the Jiangs preferred to be as close to a waterway as possible. They would’ve built in the water if the city let them, but Houston had strict regulations concerning its waters, so House Jiang had to settle for a beautiful spot on Riverway Drive a couple hundred yards from the Buffalo Bayou. Inspired by the Aqua Tower of Chicago, their headquarters rose from the landscape to twelve floors crowned with an enormous water reservoir built with blue high-resistance plastic. Wavelike slabs of pale blue concrete stretched from the tower flowing in and out of huge blue windows, giving the building an undulating quality. The overall effect was of spines of pale rock protruding from a blue stream.
As we walked to the building, the bright July sunlight shone through the translucent reservoir on the tower’s top, throwing water highlights at the building and the landscaped lawn around it.
“Pretty,” Arabella said.
Cornelius had gone back to the office. It was just me, Leon, and Arabella. I checked my phone for the twentieth time. Still nothing from Alessandro.
“We agreed,” I said. “Let me do the talking.”
“I said okay.” My sister rolled her eyes.
“Remember the Magellan case?”
Leon grinned.
“How many times are you going to keep bringing that up?” Arabella growled. “Just the questions as I wrote them and we won’t have a problem. Promise.”
“I’m just saying. You also said okay then, and it ended with you on the conference table holding the CEO by his throat.�
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“I’m not going to hold Stephen by his throat. He’s too pretty for that.”
I would regret this, I just knew it.
An Asian woman met us at the door. She was in her forties, impeccably dressed in white, with a conservative haircut, dark lipstick, and spare silver jewelry. She smiled at us. “Prime Baylor, welcome. Mr. Jiang is expecting you. This way, please.”
She led us through a lobby that had more in common with a luxury hotel than a corporate headquarters. A massive fountain cascaded from the wall over a waterfall of mossy rocks. Everything was either white or blue, the lines ergonomic, the floor and walls pristine, and the employees of House Jiang glided through this ultramodern environment as if they were swimming.
“This is what the inside of a drowned iPhone would look like,” Leon murmured as we waited by a glass elevator.
I stepped on his foot and checked my phone again. Nothing.
So far everything about this building supported the conclusions my sister drew from the background check of Stephen Jiang. The Jiang family was conservative, conscious of their image, and dedicated to expanding their business. They did not feud. They bought their opponents and absorbed their companies. She could find no record of them ever being a combat House. They had no active lawsuits, bankruptcies, or criminal records, except for Henry, Stephen’s younger brother, who got a DUI in college for smoking pot in a parked car with the keys in the ignition. He was the black sheep of the family, currently away in Beijing studying computer science of all things.
Stephen’s office was on the second floor. Our guide led us through a wide hallway past a white desk shaped like an upside-down flower petal. The two women at the desk rose as she passed. Ahead of us the white wall split with a whisper, sliding out and back. Beyond it lay a luxurious space, too large to call an office. The white floor gleamed. On our right was a lounge area with white couches arranged in a circle around a crystal table facing the tinted floor-to-ceiling window. On our left stood a translucent blue desk shaped like a cresting ocean wave with three chairs in front of it. Behind the desk the entire wall was glass and beyond it was water.
The reservoir didn’t just top the building. It ran straight down through, with the structure encircling this water core.
Stephen Jiang stood pondering the water, his back to us. His black suit fit him like a glove.
The older woman bowed to the back of his head, smiled at us, and withdrew. The doors slid shut behind her, their seal so tight, it looked like a solid wall.
Stephen turned. He really was a shockingly handsome man. His gaze slid over me, to Leon, and then to Arabella. My sister pretended to be disinterested, as if this were an errand we had to check off before moving on to more important matters.
“Welcome,” Stephen said. “I have a meeting in half an hour, so we’ll have to keep the small talk to a minimum. Please ask your questions.”
He motioned us to the chairs in front of the desk and sat down. I took out my tablet with the list of Arabella’s questions.
“Some of these are routine for our background check. Please answer to the best of your ability.”
Stephen nodded and made a proceed gesture with his right hand.
“Is your name Stephen Jiang?”
“Yes.”
“Are you also known as Jiāng Chéng Fèng?”
He blinked. “Yes.”
“Is your father Marcus Jiang also known as Jiāng Yuán Zé?”
“Yes.”
“Is your mother Ann Jiang also known as Zhāng Pèi Fāng?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have two siblings?”
“Yes.”
“Is your brother named Henry Jiang, also known as Jiāng Chéng Rùi?”
“Yes.”
“Is your sister named Alison, also known as Jiāng Chéng Xīn?”
“What is the point of this?”
“Please answer the questions. The faster we get through this, the sooner we will leave.”
“Yes.”
“Did you graduate summa cum laude from Harvard Business School at twenty?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a Prime aquakinetic?”
“Yes.”
“Are you twenty-four years old?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been working for the family since you were fifteen years old?”
“Yes.”
“Did you assume your first executive post at eighteen?”
“Yes.”
“Is your family originally from Suzhou?”
“Yes.”
“Did they once live by the Yangtze River?”
“Yes.”
“Did they used to trade in textiles?”
“Yes.”
His answers were monotone now. Stephen had surrendered to his fate. Just a little more.
“Did they do business in Shanghai?”
“Yes.”
“Did they move to Hong Kong as the result of a cultural revolution?”
“Yes.”
“Did they emigrate to the United States in 1947?”
“Yes.”
“Does Han Min die of poison in episode sixty-three?”
“Yes. Wait, no, she doesn’t die. Why would she die, she is the main character? I heal her with a Heavenly Celestial Pill . . .”
Stephen’s brain finally realized what was coming out of his mouth. He froze.
“Ha!” Arabella exclaimed.
I looked at her. She clamped her mouth shut.
Stephen reached for the intercom and pushed a button. “Cancel the Redford meeting. Hold all my calls.” He let go and stared at me. “How?”
“We watch the show.”
“Here, in Texas?”
“It’s available on the Viki streaming app,” I told him.
Stephen leaned back in his chair, his face betraying nothing. “Is it popular?”
“Very,” I said.
He locked his teeth. He probably wanted to swear and punch something, but we were right there.
“Are you here to blackmail me with this?”
“I am here to solve the murder of Felix Morton. I would appreciate your honesty.”
He gave me a sharp look. “And if I don’t answer, will my acting stunt be smeared all over the Herald?”
“Not by us.” I matched his stare. “I’m asking you about this because it doesn’t fit with the rest of your biography. It’s a mystery and I don’t like mysteries.”
He thought about it. “This doesn’t leave the room.”
“Agreed.”
“How much do you know about my brother?”
“Henry, Jiāng Chéng Rùi, twenty-one years old, studying computer science in Beijing, has a fondness for pot.”
Stephen grimaced. “I wish he was in Beijing studying computer science. My brother was approached by a studio when he was eighteen. He is Chen Rui.”
“Chen Rui, the actor?” I turned and looked at Arabella.
Chen Rui played Han Min’s love interest. She had to have known he was Henry. She would have looked at Henry’s picture and compared it with Chen Rui.
Arabella gave me a bright unrepentant smile. “Number 43 on the Top 100 Most Influential Celebrities in China list.”
Stephen sighed. “Yes.”
“Why are you hiding this?” I asked.
Stephen leaned back. “We don’t have enough time for me to explain it to you. Let’s just say that there are cultural and familial reasons for which my parents would greatly prefer that Henry was either at Beijing University or back here, helping to steer House Jiang’s corporate interests.”
“So how did you end up acting in the same drama?”
“My brother refuses to come home. Two years ago, my parents sent me over there with instructions to bring him home for a visit at any cost. He said he would come home for the Lunar New Year if I took a small role in the drama with him. He wanted me to understand his choices. So, I did it, it’s done, and I have no interest in continuing with i
t.”
“Did Henry come home?” I asked.
“Yes. And then he left again.”
Arabella raised her hand. “Question. Did you do any of the martial arts in the drama or was it CGI and wires?”
Stephen spared her a look that was part patience and part condescension. “I’m a Chinese American, so of course I spend all my free time in a secret monastery learning kung fu and practicing spiritual cultivation. Because one day a demon king shall descend onto Houston and only my Ninth Level Thunder Fist Punch will stand in his way.”
Arabella drew back. He’d managed to put air quotes around kung fu without ever raising his hands.
“You never know,” Leon said.
Brilliant.
Stephen ignored him. “No. I don’t do martial arts. I don’t run around on rooftops with a sword fighting assassins in black. I’m responsible for four hundred million dollars in assets. You know what I do?” He pointed to the phone. “I make phone calls. I answer emails. I look for suppliers and shipping companies. I analyze market projections. That’s what I do.”
Good that he mentioned that. “Did you analyze the Pit project?”
Stephen’s face shut down. “Reclamation of the Pit would provide long-term benefits to the entire Houston metro area. House Jiang recognizes its civic duty to our city and its people.”
“Did you memorize that?” Arabella asked.
“One more word,” I warned.
Stephen nodded at me. “Younger sister?”
“Yes.”
“I have one too.” He’d sank a world of meaning into it. “Let me simplify things. What do you need from me?”
“Honest, direct answers. I need to be able to speak with Stephen Jiang, the Prime and Pit Reclamation board member, not Stephen Jiang, the eldest son of House Jiang.”
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