by Amelia Autin
But she had to stop using it. For Dirk’s sake she had to keep her emotions to herself. He had enough to deal with right now without the additional burden of knowing how she felt about him. Because Dirk would have been taken aback if he’d known that when she called him tim sum, she was calling him sweetheart.
* * *
Patrick dropped Dirk and Mei-li at the hotel’s front door, then went to park and grab some lunch after assuring Dirk he would be ready at a moment’s notice to drive him anywhere he needed to go.
The two of them had only been back in his hotel suite for ten minutes—long enough for Mei-li to pull last night’s leftovers from the refrigerator and pop them into the microwave—when the doorbell rang. The microwave dinged almost at the same time, so Dirk went to answer the door while Mei-li dished up the food, then carried the plates and utensils into the dining room.
She was just in time to see Dirk walk back from the foyer with another envelope, rip it open and draw out a single sheet of paper. He read it immediately. When he was done he handed the instructions and the envelope to her and went to stand by the window, staring out at Victoria Harbour.
She scanned the page quickly. It made no reference to the previous ransom drop. And, just as before, this delivery had been made by a local service, not a global conglomerate, which she could tell by the label on the envelope. Those two things—the stand-alone nature of the instructions and the method of delivery—made Mei-li sure the envelope had been scheduled for drop-off at a specific time. Most likely all four sets of instructions had been prepared ahead of time, with delivery times already scheduled. She made a mental note to follow up with the delivery service’s main office to see what she could ascertain there. But for now she read the instructions again, this time carefully. And the wording of what she read was additional confirmation the instructions had been drafted in advance.
Hong Kong Museum of History, 1:00 p.m. Visit the folk culture exhibit. Step onto the life-size replica of a fishing junk and pretend to take pictures like a tourist. When you receive the phone call, you will have one minute to talk with your daughters—make it count. After you hang up, place the bag in the front of the boat underneath the food exhibit. Leave and don’t look back. Return to your hotel and await further instructions. Don’t do anything stupid.
She checked her watch. “Plenty of time,” she told Dirk. “The museum is just up Chatham Road, maybe five minutes from here.” She indicated the food on the table. “We should eat before it gets cold.”
* * *
Dirk’s smartphone announced an incoming email before they were done, and he swore under his breath. “The bastard knows every move I make.” His sudden anger was a welcome sight to Mei-li after the shuttered expression he’d worn before. “How the hell does he know?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t know. But he’s timed this. And he scheduled the delivery of the second envelope in advance to coincide with approximately how long it would take you to get back to the hotel.” She pointed to Dirk’s phone. “That email contains another picture of your daughters, which he had the other kidnapper send you because you demanded you receive one each time.”
When Dirk looked a question she explained, “It only makes sense they’re not together. The kidnapper retrieving the ransom can’t be the one calling you at the Peak with your daughters, because he can’t be in two places at one time. And it’s not likely he rushed back to wherever they are, because he has to get in place for the next ransom delivery. So most likely the picture was taken by the other kidnapper, the one who’s staying with your daughters wherever they are. Download that picture to your computer right now—let’s see when and where it was taken.”
“I don’t think I can,” he told her, his voice rough with emotion. “I don’t think I can bear to look—”
“You don’t have to,” she assured him swiftly. “We don’t have to open the file to view its properties, remember? All I want are the GPS coordinates and the date and time the picture was taken.” She would look at the picture, but not when Dirk was around. There could be clues in the picture itself that might come into play. There hadn’t been anything in the two previous ones, but you could never tell.
Dirk went into the study for his laptop, and Mei-li quickly sent a text, ending with, Email to follow ASAP.
Dirk pushed his unfinished lunch to one side, sat at the dining room table with his laptop in front of him and powered it up. Then he forwarded the email to Mei-li without her even having to remind him. When the message appeared in her inbox, she forwarded it while Dirk downloaded the picture. And even though he’d told her he didn’t think he could bear looking at the picture of his daughters, he drew a deep breath, then clicked to open it. Stared at it for a few seconds. Then closed it. And Mei-li’s heart ached for him and what he was going through.
A minute later Dirk opened the file’s properties and scrolled down. Mei-li stopped him for a second, putting her hand over his. “Same camera,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “That’s good.” Then she let him continue scrolling down to the GPS section.
When they finally keyed the coordinates into Google Maps, she said blankly, “Mong Kok. That’s on the mainland, not all that far from here.” At Dirk’s questioning look, she explained, “It’s all Kowloon, but the best way to explain it is to say your hotel is in the Tsim Sha Tsui neighborhood. Mong Kok is the next main neighborhood to the north. If they went all the way to Tai O, why come back to Mong Kok? At least Tai O is on the same island as the entrance to the airport. Why didn’t they just stay there?”
She was silent for a moment, trying to fit this latest bit of data into the overall picture. “Let me run something by you,” she said. “It’s a theory, but I think all the pieces fit.”
Dirk sat back in his chair. “Let’s hear it.”
“So, the kidnappers planned to spirit your daughters out of Hong Kong,” she began. “But they couldn’t the day the typhoon hit because all flights were grounded.”
“I’m with you so far.”
“The hotels at the airport are fully booked—no flights out means everyone who was planning to leave that day scrambled to find a hotel room. That’s a crucial point,” she added with a little smile to let Dirk know she remembered it was his suggestion in the first place—he needed the encouragement.
“The typhoon is gaining strength,” she continued. “By that time, the Hong Kong Observatory had probably already issued a Signal Eight SE warning. The kidnappers are stuck—they have your daughters and nowhere to stash them. And they need to get under shelter ASAP, so they desperately need a bolt-hole. If they can’t go to a hotel close by, where would they go? Where would they go that they know has space for them and that won’t ask too many questions?”
Dirk’s eyes lit up. “One of the kidnappers lives in Central,” he said. “That has to be it. Not the guy in charge—the American. The other one. The one Vanessa said was Chinese.”
Mei-li nodded. “So they take a cab back to Central. The cabs were still running, remember. They spend that night and the next day at the kidnapper’s apartment. But he’s worried. Maybe he has a girlfriend...or a mother...who might stop by unexpectedly. Or even a roommate. Someone who has a key, or otherwise he could just not answer the door. So he tells the American they can’t continue to stay there. Now, this is where my theory becomes pure conjecture, but it fits. He knows someone in Tai O. Family. Friend. Fellow criminal. Someone. Someone whose place he can borrow for the night. But only for a night. Then he has to move someplace else.”
“Yeah, but if the original plan was to leave Hong Kong, why are they still here? Yesterday—yeah, I get that those private planes weren’t going to receive flight clearance to leave yesterday, but today’s a different story. Except for the plane that needed repair, all of them could have left by now.” Dirk was pointing out the major flaw in her logic...from his perspective.
Because she hadn’t yet told him...
She reached over and grabbed her purse, saying as she did so, “Do you remember yesterday when I said I was calling in a favor? Someone did a background check on those five planes and their pilots for me. And this is what they uncovered.” She pulled a sheaf of papers from her purse, which was already flipped to the relevant page, and handed it to Dirk.
“The three legitimate charter services checked out clean as a whistle. The plane going to Taipei flew out very early this morning...with only the pilots and the four passengers on the manifest. The plane and their luggage were searched thoroughly before they took off. No,” she told him gently when he shot her a sharp glance. “The searchers didn’t know what they were looking for, but your daughters weren’t on that plane.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Which only leaves the fifth plane, the one heading to Manila.” She tried but failed to curb her excitement. “Look at what the background report says.” She pointed at a specific paragraph, not waiting for him to read through everything. “Those pilots are reputed smugglers. Open to the highest bidder. Drugs. Guns. Human trafficking—they smuggled a crime boss out of the Philippines two days before he was going to be arrested, and no one knows where he escaped to. There’s no proof of any of this, of course, or else they’d be in jail. But the man who compiled this report? I believe him.”
“So they were paid to take my daughters to Manila.” Dirk’s voice was dangerously soft.
“Manila was probably just a waypoint. No way to know for sure. But their plane was damaged in the typhoon—wasn’t that what the mechanic said? They have to wait for parts to be shipped from the US before their plane can be repaired. So they can’t leave. Which means the kidnappers can’t leave, either.”
Dirk stood so abruptly his chair toppled over. The dangerous softness was still in his voice when he asked, “How long have you known this?”
He towered over her, and Mei-li looked up a long way to his face, which was hard and implacable. “Since early this morning,” she admitted, not quite getting why Dirk was suddenly so angry. “I read the report, then printed it out before I came over here.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I was going to, but—”
“But what?” His lips were white around the edges.
“Delivering the ransom was more important,” she explained quietly. “Did you or did you not tell me in this very room that the only thing you cared about was bringing your daughters safely home?”
His brows twitched together. “Yes, but—”
“Convincing the kidnappers you were willing to do whatever they asked of you was more important than showing you this report. Between the time I arrived and the time we had to leave, there was no opportunity. I didn’t deliberately keep it from you, Dirk. I showed it to you the first chance I had.”
“You could have given it to me when we were driving up to the Peak.”
“With Patrick in the car?” That stopped him. “I trust Patrick...well, after what you said, I mostly trust him,” she added even more quietly. “But you don’t. So there was no way I was going to mention this with him in the car listening to everything we said.”
His expression morphed from anger to contrition, and after a moment he said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I—” His hand came up as if he were going to touch her cheek, but he didn’t, and his hand dropped to his side. “I—all at once I thought you were keeping secrets from me—shielding me—and I couldn’t bear it. Because I have to know, Mei-li. It’s like looking at the pictures of my daughters. It’s like talking with them on the phone. It tears me up inside, but I have to do it. Maybe I can’t do a damn thing, but I have to know.”
Guilt slammed into her. Not about the report, but about the other secret she was keeping from him. The one she was afraid to tell him because she wasn’t sure she could convince him this was their best chance to recover his daughters alive.
She cleared her throat. “I understand. But you have to trust me, Dirk. You have to trust I know what I’m doing.”
She wanted to tell him everything—trust was a two-way street. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Dirk asked, “So if we know that plane—those pilots—are involved, what can we do about it?”
“They’re being watched. We’ll know the minute the parts arrive.”
“Watched?” He froze. “You called the police?” Buried in the way he asked that question was a plea for her to deny it, because he didn’t want to believe she’d put his daughters’ lives in danger.
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t do that, Dirk. Not without your knowledge and consent.”
“Then how—”
“Trust me, please. I can’t tell you how, but every move those pilots make is under observation. They won’t leave Hong Kong with your daughters, I promise.”
From the expression on his face she knew he was going to insist on knowing how she knew, but his smartphone rang just then, and after a quick glance at the screen he answered it. “Yes, Rafe, what have you found?” He listened intently, then said, “No. I know it’s a needle in a haystack. But what else can you do except keep looking? Check the airport. The airline counters. Maybe they decided to make a run for it and bought tickets.” Rafe must have asked a question, because Dirk said, “Hang on, let me check,” and walked down the hall.
Mei-li started to follow him, but her smartphone vibrated—she’d forgotten to turn the ringer back on, but it must have been vibrating against something metal because she heard it. She scrabbled in her purse until she found her phone on the bottom, where it had somehow migrated. The number was one in her contacts, and she recognized the caller’s name. “Wei?”
* * *
Dirk strode back into the living room, telling Rafe, “No, her passport’s not in her room. Not that I can find anyway. Maybe she carries it with her all the time, I don’t know. But just in case—hold on a sec,” he said as Mei-li frantically waved at him to get his attention.
“Tell Rafe to take a cab to this address—no, I’ll tell him myself,” she said, reaching for Dirk’s phone. When she’d given Rafe the address she added, “Vanessa and Chet are there...Yes. My friend just called me. They’ve been there since this morning, but they’re done now. My friend will keep them there until you show up...Yes, he told them you’ll be on the way and they’ll wait for you.” She held up a finger to let Dirk know she was almost done. “Oh, and, Rafe? Can you call Mike and let him know to stop looking and come back to the hotel?” She listened for a couple of seconds. “Okay, thanks. Bring Vanessa and Chet back here, too, please. And don’t let anyone go anywhere.” She glanced at her watch. “We have to leave in a minute to deliver the second ransom package, but we’ll be back.” She listened again, smiled at Dirk and told Rafe, “Thanks, I’ll tell him.”
Dirk could barely contain his impatience. “What was that all about?”
“Rafe said to tell you good luck. And don’t worry about anything except delivering the ransom.”
He made an impatient sound. “Not that. The other.”
“I know where Vanessa and Chet went. And I know why.”
Chapter 14
“Where are they?” Dirk asked quickly.
Mei-li’s dark eyes were sparkling. “They’re at the hypnotist’s. He said they arrived on his doorstep this morning. Vanessa was practically in tears, apologizing all over the place for yesterday. She confessed she hadn’t been truthful with him, and that she’d done everything in her power to not let him hypnotize her.”
“What? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Dirk couldn’t process it for a moment. “Why would she do that?”
“My friend couldn’t say. But he said this time he was able to hypnotize her. And she remembered something important. The Chinese man had a tattoo on the inside of his
left wrist.”
“That’s what the doorman said.”
“Yes, but it confirms the kidnappers are the men the cabdriver drove to the airport. We were operating on the assumption that they were, but it’s good to have confirmation. And there’s something else. The tattoo Vanessa described? It’s the symbol of one of the lesser known criminal tongs here in Hong Kong. Kind of like a gang tattoo in the States, identifying members.”
“Tongs? I’ve heard of triads, but what’s a tong?”
“A tong is a social club, and not all of them are involved in illegal activities. But some are, and this one is—its members are former boat people who are into smuggling and human trafficking.” Her glowing eyes told him this was a break for them. “My friend is typing up his report, and he’ll email it to me as soon as he can.”
She grabbed one of the three remaining grocery bags with the ransom package off the dining room table. “Come on,” she told Dirk. “It’s 12:30. It shouldn’t take us more than five minutes in the car, but there could be traffic. I already called Patrick. He’ll be waiting for us by the time we get downstairs.”
* * *
The Rolls made good time. Patrick said, “Chatham Road is shorter, but Salisbury to Cheong Wan will probably be faster.” He got them as close as he could, then pulled over to the curb. “There’s no place to park, so I’ll just drive around for a bit. Call me when you’re ready.” He said something in Cantonese to Mei-li. She went still all over for a moment, then nodded and replied, “M’goy.”
Dirk couldn’t help but wonder what that exchange was all about. He recognized the word Mei-li had said—thank you—but he didn’t know why she’d said it. He told himself he wouldn’t ask, but whatever it was had profoundly affected her. She seemed lost in thought, a million miles away from him, and as they walked toward the museum entrance, he said, “I should have taken the time to learn some Cantonese.”
