Boris acquired special luggage that would hold the coins within the linings, hollow walls and hidden bases. However, the weight and number of coins was large enough that he also wanted to modify the wardrobe that Julia traveled with when she went back and forth. The coins would add a good twenty five pounds to her case, but wouldn't take up enough space for her to notice. A little clandestine hammer and chisel work by Boris created enough problems with Julia’s luggage that she asked him to have it 'repaired' for her.
"Don't worry, sister, I know a craftsman that will have it looking as good as new. In fact, he told me he has the wood of the cedar that he can create for a beautiful new lining on the inside to safeguard your clothes from moths and mildew during the trip. I will ask him to add it as well."
"Thanks, Bori, I will repay you with champagne, on the house, for as long as you stay in Shanghai!"
Boris kissed his sister's forehead and then hauled off her wardrobe to make her an accomplice to his smuggling operation.
Departure 1982
The day of their departure Boris seemed more highly strung than usual. He argued with and taunted Steven into leaving early for the day after saying goodbye to Julia. Steven had originally wanted to see her off at the wharf in Manila, but he knew he and Boris would not get along together on the trip into the city and he wanted to avoid a major altercation with his brother because he knew it would upset Julia.
"I'll miss you, Julia, but not for long. I'll be there later this year anyway. Hopefully after Boris returns home." He laughed and kissed his youngest sister on the cheek, telling Katie to look after her little sister for him during the likely arduous trip to drop the two siblings off.
"Please don't leave until my trunk is loaded for the trip, Kuya. I might have over packed it a bit and now I can’t seem to close the lid.” She took Steven back to her room where the trunk stood, fully loaded, but as yet, not secured.
Boris was standing studying it, hands on hips. Between the new lining he had installed and the gold coins he had personally secured between the dual layer of cedar lining, the trunk was almost double the weight going back as when Julia brought it over. When his siblings came into the room, he jumped into action and finished getting the trunk lid closed. "It's done, your clothes will be super safe for the trip, sister."
"You have made them so safe no one can even move the trunk!"
"You exaggerate, sister, it's a beautiful trunk now, especially the inside. Give me a hand now Stevie…and be careful."
Finally the trunk, as well as Boris' own heavy luggage, were both aboard the older private van that Boris had contracted to get them to the Manila harbor. The ride was long and uncomfortable, but once at the harbor and on the dock in front of their boat, they were singled out and boarded in front of the other waiting passengers. Boris had showed the stewards the letter he was carrying, as well as a large crate of mangos, which announced a gift from the Mayor of Manila to the Mayor of Shanghai to promote goodwill, friendship and trade. The Mayor had given Boris the letter, but had no expectation that the letter or the mangos would be delivered to anyone in particular.
Virgin Smuggler, Shanghai 1982
The Philippines was ripe for the picking. Maybe it always had been. Scouring the Philippines clean of resources, money and intellect started before the Spaniards, but it continued through the U.S. Territorial times as well. The way Boris looked at it, after World War II the plundering had simply been transferred back to the Filipino people. Cash could be taken out as well, but it was always less traceable to transfer goods and wash the transfer through a few hands or transactions.
When Boris and Julia arrived at the port office there was a note waiting for him.
All it said was:
The Bund Jazz Club
8 p.m.
Thursday
Bring a red umbrella
Their ship arrived on a Friday so he was a little confused, but decided that it was a safe set-up for the contact in Shanghai because it was probably a place he went to every Thursday at 8 p.m. He probably set his initial meeting there so no one would be suspicious.
"Fan letters already?" Julia asked. "I didn't know that you knew people in Shanghai. What's up?"
"Oh it's nothing, it's just some business. You thought I was coming over for a vacation?" He answered.
"I thought you were coming over to be with your baby sister for a while." He saw the classic baby sister pout on her lips.
"Hey, no big deal. This isn't a time consuming meeting. I'm actually just helping out a friend here in Shanghai." Brushing off Julia's frustrated look he charged on with a question, "Do you know where the Bund Jazz Club is, little sister?"
"Of course I do, Bori. I've sung there practically since I came to Shanghai." She finished brushing the wind out of her hair and tied it back with an ornately colored scarf.
Later, as they settled into Julia’s tiny flat, Boris saw that scarves were apparently just one of her fetishes when it came to clothes. His little sister had dozens of them in all sizes, colors and patterns, not to mention fabrics. Chuckling to himself, he light heartedly wondered what he could smuggle into or out of China hidden amongst a boat load of scarves.
Relaxing on the bench in her living area with a cup of tea Boris thought more about the strange coincidence and asked, "So when do you work at this Bund Jazz Club?"
Adding more sugar to her own tea, Julia answered. "I'm there every Thursday and Friday. Then I'm over at the Stewed Kitten on Saturdays and the Purple Finch on Sundays, Mondays and Tuesdays."
Okay, not only was she working there, but she was there every Thursday. "I might have to meet a client there next Thursday."
"That's cool, I start around 8:00 p.m. and go till about 1:00 a.m. Now maybe you've got two reasons to come," She said.
Thursday couldn’t come quickly enough for Boris, but finally it was upon them and Julia was busy getting ready for her audience. It was the owner's birthday so she would wear something special. In China, special meant red so she'd picked one of her many red dresses. She most often wore formal evening dresses because she wanted to look elegant and always sang in the evening. "What do you think of this number, Bori?"
He looked up from the maps and papers he was reading to see his beautiful younger sister in a red satin, floor length gown with a very subtle pattern of tigers that was probably printed on the fabric in some way. It had a bit of a flare at the bottom that more than covered her feet, spreading into a circle around them maybe a yard in diameter. The shoulders were mostly exposed except for a small patch of fabric that was supposed to be a sleeve, but Boris figured was really to keep the front up and in place.
"I think you look too pretty to be anyone's little sister." Proud as he was of her, and confident of her ability to look after herself, his brotherly defense was aroused when he saw her this way. It wasn't the first time, because she'd been a beauty since she was 14 years old. He'd learned how to set his defense mechanism aside and he turned his attention back to the papers spread before him.
A while later Julia was leading him to the Bund Jazz Club to listen to her sing…and to meet his contact.
Red Umbrella Meet 1982
When his favorite singer walked into the club with her arm hooked on another man's arm, Orlando did a double take and began a slow boil. He'd had his eye on Julia for a while now and was playing it slow and cool before she took off for Manila. Now he panicked, wondering if he'd played it too slow and too cool. If she picked this guy up when she was back in the Philippines he'd kick himself all the way home tonight. There probably wasn't much he was going to be able to do about it though, because of the meeting he expected tonight. Better yet, he thought, maybe the guy wouldn’t show up this week either and he would be able to do something.
Julia turned and gave her escort a peck on the cheek as she disengaged herself from his arm. She then headed in the direction of the communal dressing room. Orlando figured she would freshen her make-up, check her hair and unpin the bottom of her dres
s. She once told him she pinned it up for the commute to keep it from getting filthy before she was even on stage.
Orlando took a better look at the man Julia came in with. He was pretty average height, maybe a little on the short side and he had a stocky build. His hair was thick and black and straight and hung down his back in a ponytail. Orlando noted that when Julia left him his eyes had gone from soft to hard as rocks. The man’s posture was now all business and as Orlando watched with his peripheral vision the man began to look around the club. His eyes came to rest on Orlando but quickly darted away. Even if he didn’t want to meet him, it was clear they were both Filipino and in the same jazz bar on the same night. They would have to say hello to each other at some point.
Orlando ordered a beer and pulled himself up to a small table in the corner where he could watch for the red umbrella. He took his first sip, glanced at the man that came in with Julia and saw him pull a short red compact umbrella out of the bag Julia left him with. Orlando took a second slow sip, turning the puzzle pieces over in his head.
Could it be that this man was actually the person he was supposed to meet tonight? He was Filipino and he came in with the Filipina woman he’d been obsessed with for months. It might make sense, they were all Filipino, all in Shanghai; could it be they all knew the same people?
He thought back to the conversation with his father about his potential business partner, "Orlando, be careful. This business partner comes through the mayor of Manila. The mayor is a powerful man with powerful friends, a powerful ego and powerful desires. I will make the introductions because I think the potential for you making a lot of money through this contact is high, but the danger is also high."
Orlando had replied, "Don't worry about me father, I can handle myself. I have developed my own contacts in Shanghai. This city is at least as old as Manila and as powerfully dangerous. I will watch my back, and if necessary, I know how to disappear. However, I hope that in the meantime this mayor brings me big business."
Luis said, "Okay, I only know this person's first name is Boris and that you are to meet him. I understand he is traveling to Shanghai and will be arriving sometime next week. He is carrying export goods which is why the mayor asked for contacts in Shanghai in order to develop purchasing partners. I am fairly certain his export goods must be kept quiet. I also know the mayor is very friendly with Shanghai business people and government party members."
While to many it might seem like a precarious position to put ones son into, Orlando took it as a vote of confidence from the old state department operator. More than that, Orlando saw his father as providing him every opportunity to make big money and to make a name for himself in political circles that could help him go beyond the level of financial success his father had seen.
When Julia came out Orlando settled back with his beer, kept his eyes on the person he assumed was Boris, and listened to Julia's opening number. By 9:00 p.m. the club was starting to fill up and Orlando thought he could make his move.
Draining the last of his beer Orlando took his empty and went over to the table where Boris was listening to Julia. He had the red umbrella displayed prominently on his table when Orlando stepped up, "She's a great singer isn't she?" Orlando said, "If I don’t miss my guess, we are both from the same home country as she? May I buy you a beer?"
Boris did not answer him regarding ethnicity, but shook his head in the affirmative regarding the beer and gestured to the chair next to him. Orlando waved to the waitress, who he knew very well, and indicated that she should bring them each another drink.
Then he introduced himself, "I'm Orlando. I'm supposed to meet someone here tonight who is carrying a red umbrella." He eyed Boris' umbrella which was sitting on the table. "By the way, how do you know Julia?"
"I have known Julia all my life, she is my younger sister. Why do you ask?" Boris answered.
"No reason my friend, I have been coming to this club for a long time and Julia is one of the best singers they have. I’m glad to know she is your sister." Taking a long, slow sip of his beer Orlando listened to the music for a couple of minutes. Then he turned to Boris and said, "I still don't know your name, my friend."
Boris returned his stare with his own smile, which looked carved from the same stone as his eyes. Offering his hand, he took Orlando's, shook it and said, "It's Boris. However, don't be mistaken, I am not your friend, yet."
"Okay, business it is then. What do you have for me, Boris?" Orlando now toyed with his bottle, knowing that a friendly drunk was not going to improve this situation.
"I have a job which was entrusted to me by a very important person that wants it finished in the quickest possible manner," Boris answered. Orlando only briefly looked at him turning his attention back to Julia, expecting him to continue. Boris did, "I am told you have the other contacts needed for this particular job."
"You may very well be right. I do know a lot of people.” Orlando didn’t know anything about Boris and wasn't about to give him information he didn't need, or that would lead him back to his father if he didn't already know about him.
"You know the export goods?" Boris asked him.
Orlando just closed his eyes and gave a little nod. Of course he did, why else would he be chosen? The mayor knew that finding a client to pay cash for eighty pounds of Spanish gold, stolen Spanish gold from WWII no less, wasn't a walk in the park.
"Okay, I suppose you do. Well, I have a personal challenge for you. One that might go a ways toward making you my friend," Boris said.
That made Orlando open his eyes again. This might at least be intriguing. The challenges are what made you rich or got you killed. "Tell me more," He replied.
"I'm a businessman in the business of transportation. I had a full load on the trip coming over, but I'm empty on the return path. I need an easily transportable load with good resale potential."
"I'm listening…there are about a billion options. Narrow it down for me." Orlando couldn't put his hands on a billion options, but there were certainly a lot of options.
#
"Opium," Boris said.
"A hundred pesos a gram," Orlando replied.
Boris knew he could get at least a thousand a gram in Manila, depending on how sophisticated the buyer was, how much 'value' they were willing to add and how much risk they were willing to pass on to the consumer. Boris had no risk aversion what so ever when it came to the consumer, but he was significantly more risk averse when it came to his own skin. On the other hand, ten thousand grams of opium, nearly twenty-five pounds, would be a significant haul. And there was a market. A relatively untapped market. This one deal could enable him to get his boat. Not the perfect boat, but the beginning in a series leading to his perfect boat.
He'd made no promises to the mayor other than the safe return of the proceeds of his exports. He was prepared to use every peso of his profit to purchase the opium. If he was caught he probably would be thrown in jail for the rest of his sorry life, which would be short, the mayor had assured him. However, he knew the risk was even higher if he was caught taking Japanese war hordes of Spanish gold, over which many people in his country died, out of the Philippines. That meant almost certain death.
"If I happened to be interested, how much can you get me?" Boris asked.
"How much do you want? I can get it," Orlando answered.
"Ten kilos," Boris said.
Orlando shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his beer. "I could have that tomorrow night."
#
When Julia finished her first set she worked her way through the crowd that had gathered around the stage. The club had redecorated while she was in the Philippines. The stage was all new, heavier red velvet curtains and the floor was buffed to the high sheen of a professional basketball court. There were more lighting options, including colored spotlights now. She would keep that in mind when she added to her wardrobe next time. Red dress against red velvet curtains with red spot light was a bit much, even if she was in a
country where red was the prevailing lucky color for everything.
She was entertaining a group from Germany. They were in Shanghai talking about options to manufacture automobiles for the world’s most populous country. They were good tippers, but a very hands on group. As long as they were drunk and unorganized, which these guys certainly were, Julia had no problem separating men from the biggest tips possible while defending her curves from wandering hands. However, she knew from previous experience in Manila that she needed to move on before Boris got too irritated with all the groping that these guys were trying to accomplish. She said, "Sorry boys, gotta run see my big brother and powder my nose before the next set." She deftly stepped out of reach and continued on over to Boris and Orlando's table.
"Orlando, get me a coke, would you?" giving his ear a light touch, she shooed him away with a nod of her head in the direction of the bar.
"Okay, Julia, no problem. Hey, you're in great shape tonight, baby. Voice is smoother and thicker than those new curtains they hung on your stage." Orlando winked and sauntered over toward the bar.
Julia looked at her brother, assessing him as only a baby sister could. "So, what's the story, Bori? What are you guys up to?" It was clear this wasn't a chance encounter Boris had made with her…what was he anyway, boyfriend wasn't right, but neither was simple friend…most strident and interesting supporter? Maybe that was what Orlando was. Anyway, she continued her questioning, "Where do you guys know each other from?"
"Sister, what do you think? I'm Filipino, you're Filipina, and he’s Filipino…where are we going to know each other from?" He finished his beer and made a show of looking around for a server to bring him another. For now business was going smoothly, he could afford another.
Game of Wit and Chance_Beginnings Page 9
