by Ada Haynes
Ekbeth had to cross the river to visit his customers, and there was always a traffic jam along the way, but it was a slight inconvenience for what he received in return. He certainly missed Hong Kong, but could understand why the Triads had moved their headquarters to Shanghai. Even more than Beijing, it was here that things were happening in modern China.
He walked to his office, a short distance away from his apartment. His manager for the Extreme-Orient business was expecting him.
Recruiting for his bank was always a delicate task. He needed people who were not afraid to overlook some financial regulations—although not to the extent of trying to fill their pockets with the bank or its customers’ money—and to be artful in the bending of the rules. The last thing Ekbeth wanted was a close inspection of his accounts by the local authorities. In the specific case of the Shanghai branch, his director needed also to be able to work with the Triads, be aware of the nebulous connections between the groups, yet not forget who was in charge—Ekbeth, not the Chinese mafia.
Currently, Ekbeth was very pleased with this particular manager. Wei fit the job perfectly.
They had not found Kimiel yet. Still had no clue where she could be. But Wei’s patient probing among their customers had finally brought results. One of them was apparently ready to give some information. Finally—after weeks of waiting.
Ekbeth and Wei first spent a few hours discussing the current business of the bank, and then took the company car to go and meet this customer. For this encounter, Kalem joined them. His bodyguard looked like a shadow of his former self. Not finding Kimiel was not good for his health. Ekbeth would have preferred that his bodyguard rest, but he needed him right now.
Being able to read his customers’ strong emotions had proven really helpful over time. Certainly, it had saved his life once or twice. But the Chinese customers’ reactions were sometimes undecipherable to him. He was not so good at reading their signals. He had made a few mistakes in the past. Dangerous mistakes. One time, his customer had been perfectly calm in one second; in the next, Ekbeth was facing a gun, without knowing what had gone wrong. Not that this was really dangerous to him. Short of being taken totally by surprise, such as by an unsuspected bomb explosion, no one could really succeed in taking Ekbeth’s life. Not when he could be transferred away in a split second.
With time, he had learned to avoid the worst mishaps. And Wei’s presence for the translations was helping to smooth the discussions. Kalem’s presence was an extra layer of protection, in case Ekbeth got distracted.
Kalem was never distracted when on duty.
Ekbeth looked out the car window at the scenery. Where the driver was taking them right now was one of Shanghai shabbiest areas. Siping Road. The Shanghai Taiwan City tower. Where, if you had the right connections, you could rent or buy anything from a copy of the latest Microsoft software, to a female or a male partner of any age. And weapons, of course.
Ekbeth has learned to live with his choice of customers He kept repeating to himself that criminals did not create the demand, they only provided for it. As long as people would ask for pandas’ paws for medicinal purposes, the Triads would kill pandas. Same for the child prostitutes. Business was business.
Alyasini certainly did not share his cynical point of view. As she regularly reminded him.
Ekbeth was curious about Kimiel’s opinion, but was not so sure he really wanted to hear it. She had proven she did not really care for others’ life.
The car had reached their destination. Kalem went out first.
Today’s contact was an old acquaintance. Not the very top of the Triad group he was affiliated with, but close enough. A well-educated man. Polite. As long as you brought good news—which was the case, this time. In the current climate of world financial crisis, Ekbeth was still lending money where most banks had stopped taking risks. And it brought a lot of earned interest.
Wei had told them to wait before discussing Kimiel and the Triads threats. So Ekbeth told his customer about the revenue generated on his latest investment. The man was so pleased by the good news that he invited them for dinner. Ekbeth played his role, enjoyed the excellent food and shared many rounds of Chinese beer with him before he dared show him the picture of Kimiel—taken by his party security cameras.
Handing him the photograph, Ekbeth asked, “Do you know this woman?”
His customer’s reaction astonished him. From a heavily inebriated, laughing man, the Chinese man sat straight in his chair, sober. Ekbeth pushed his luck. “So you know her.”
His customer comically squinted at him, clearly having trouble seeing him. Too much alcohol. “What is she to you?”
“A huge source of problems.”
That brought a smile to the man’s lips. “I can imagine. She’s been a huge problem for us, as well, in the past.”
Then he gave the picture back to Ekbeth. “Not anymore, though. To us, she is dead. Watanabe’s girl is dead.”
“Watanabe’s girl?”
“Yes. We have a profitable partnership with Watanabe. He’s a good friend. But the girl… not good.”
The man then ordered more beers—a signal that Ekbeth would not get any more information.
Ekbeth was not walking very straight when he finally left the building, and he was starting to develop a headache. The alcohol percentage of the beer was low, but he had had more than was reasonable. Sometimes he had no choice. He had to follow his customer’s drinking habits.
That was why Kalem was here.
But he still remembered the name. “Have you ever heard of this Watanabe, Wei?”
His manager was just as drunk as he was, but managed to nod without falling. “I think so. It would explain a lot, actually. Toshio Watanabe has been active in the country for a very long time. He keeps a low profile, but he has relations everywhere. Still, even nowadays.”
They took the car to go back to Ekbeth’s apartment. The driver would bring Wei home afterwards. “What do you mean, by ‘nowadays’?”
“I have to check a few things, but I think I remember someone telling me Watanabe was in jail somewhere in Europe right now.”
“What for?”
“Not sure. He does not belong to any Triad as far as I know, but is certainly linked to them. He’s an art smuggler. There are big profits to be made there and, not so long ago, the legal system was not really paying attention to the disappearance of its own cultural heritage. That has changed recently. Maybe he’s been sentenced for illegal importing of antiquities. I can ask around.”
Ekbeth nodded, “Please do, Wei. Check that Toshio Watanabe, Kalem.”
That was his last coherent order for the day. Far too many beers.
*
He still had a headache the following morning when he returned to Zurich, where it was still dark.
An aspirin and another shower took care of the head. He opened his laptop and asked the cook to bring breakfast to the study, where he would be able to enjoy the sunrise. It was still awfully early here, but he had had enough sleep for now.
He was not surprised when Kalem joined him. His bodyguard helped himself to some coffee, and waited silently while Ekbeth finished some complicated financial risk calculations.
Ekbeth noticed absently that Kalem was still wearing the same clothes as the night before. “Did you have any sleep Kalem?”
Kalem shrugged.
With a sigh, Ekbeth closed his files and pushed his laptop away. “So, I suppose you’ve learned some interesting things about Watanabe.”
Kalem nodded. “Definitely our man. He has quite a file at Interpol. Furthermore, he’s one of your bank customers. So finding information about him was not that difficult.”
“Ah. But nothing about his girl in all that mass of information?”
Hearing that, Kalem gave a thin smile. It was a bit frightening. “Depending which girl you’re referring to. Maire Kincaid is his wife. That’s filed everywhere. Irritating that I could not find the information earlier. But nothing about Kimie
l.”
Kalem growled, “Not a damn thing!”
Yes, his bodyguard was definitely getting really frustrated here, thought Ekbeth, but it was understandable. They had been looking for two months now! And the results so far were almost nonexistent.
“Interesting, nonetheless. What have you learned about Watanabe?”
“He’s Japanese. In his late fifties. Comes from a long line of aristocrats and samurais. Some close relationship to the Imperial family, apparently. His father was a diplomat, and has spent most of his years with his family in China and other Eastern Asia countries. Young Toshio refused to follow in his father’s footsteps. Studied art instead. Not to become an artist, but to sell art. Antiquities, especially. His first customers were his own people. In the eighties, the Japanese were spending all their hard-earned Yens on anything stamped ‘ancient.’ He’s made a very nice profit out of it, if the history of his accounts proves anything. He got himself a reputation for finding the right item for you, no matter what you wanted.”
Ekbeth nodded. “Hence the smuggling accusations.”
“Exactly. Not everything he sells is on the market at the time it is desired. But he will still get it for you, as long as you’re ready to pay. And from the Interpol information, it’s not only smuggling. He’s stealing if necessary. Actually, I found some very interesting stories of impossible thefts linked to him.”
“Ah. This is where Kimiel could be involved.”
“Maybe. Only her name is never mentioned in any of the cases.”
Ekbeth thought about this for a moment. “I think the best we can do is meet Watanabe.”
Kalem nodded. “Maybe. Wei was right. The man is in jail right now. In the UK. But not for smuggling. For murder.”
“Murder? That’s a bit… unexpected. Art smuggling and assassins do not make a good combination.”
Kalem laughed at him. Ekbeth let it pass. It was maybe the first time in months his bodyguard was genuinely amused, be it at his expense.
“You have such a romantic idea of thieves and smugglers, Akeneires’el! Those people are pirates of the worst sort. Haven’t you learned anything from Kimiel’s behavior? They don’t care about anyone. They would kill their mother to get her pearl necklace if there was a market for it! Watanabe has very dirty hands; make no mistake about this. The only reason he’s not been arrested before was because he was covering his traces and because he’s very well connected.”
“But at some point of time, his connections were not enough anymore?”
Kalem nodded. “UK is not the best place to commit murder if you want to avoid jail sentences. The justice is not as corrupt there as in other places. The evidence left no doubt he had done it.”
“What has he done exactly?”
“Killed two men in broad daylight, and in public. Two members of very prominent Thai families, who were in London for a convention, if the file is correct. The families asked for Watanabe’s extradition to Thailand, but that was rejected. That probably saved his life.”
“Probably his connections’ work, Kalem. So you know where he is?”
“Yes. I have to warn you. Watanabe has quite a high profile at Interpol. Even behind bars, he’s still active, or so they think. You may not want to be associated with him.”
Good point. Ekbeth thought carefully about this.
“Well. He is a customer. I sometimes meet my customers. The worst, I think, that could happen would be that Interpol asks me to freeze his account. I can live with that. Actually I can pretend Interpol asked me to freeze his account. That would teach him a lesson!”
Kalem finished his coffee.
“Please do me a favor, Kalem, and go to bed. This can wait a few hours. I have a full agenda for the rest of the day anyway.”
At that point, a voice was heard through the wall.
“Good morning to you, Cousin! Do you really have to start your meetings at five in the morning?”
Lyrian!—who was sleeping in the room next to his study, Ekbeth suddenly remembered. The walls were quite thick, but Lyrian was still having trouble sleeping. Ekbeth knew this and felt sorry for his cousin, but more important than Lyrian’s sleep was finding Kimiel and bringing her to justice.
Lyrian staggered in and Ekbeth offered a chair to his cousin. “Sorry, Lyrian. Want a cup of coffee?”
His cousin grunted something incomprehensible but accepted the offer. “I suppose this early discussion is about our favorite woman? Learned anything useful in Shanghai?”
“We’re still investigating that. No direct connection, but we may have found her boss. Our contact called her ‘Watanabe’s girl.’ Whatever that means.”
Lyrian produced a crooked smile. “Being someone’s girl most of the time means only one thing, Ekbeth.”
Lyrian was right, of course. And it might have been the reason why Kimiel had been so dead set against marrying him. Not that it mattered anymore.
Ekbeth pondered, “His mistress? It can also means she’s simply working for him. As a thief.”
Kalem shook his head. “She must be more than that, Ekbeth. Remember Matheson told us he’d been hired to protect her? You can find skilled thieves anywhere. Okay, the fact that she’s able to walk through walls makes her unique, but no one is irreplaceable. And I bet she’s been as troublesome to Watanabe as to us. Or he would not have hired Matheson to check on her.”
Ekbeth did not want to think of this—that she was another man’s lover. Jealousy. The feeling was not sitting well with him. He should hate the woman. He would never forgive her for what she had done to his cousin, if nothing else.
But his mind often returned to their first meeting. To that hour together. How good it had felt. How right. Not something he was ever going to admit to anyone, though.
He slowly nodded. “Who knows? We are going to meet Watanabe, Lyrian. Not that I expect a lot from the discussion, but we have to try.”
Lyrian nodded. Ekbeth suddenly realized his cousin was being smug about something. But Lyrian was not forthcoming. He was taking his time, sipping his coffee.
Ekbeth sometimes wanted to slap the arrogant fool. “I’m not going to beg for info, Lyrian. What is it?”
Lyrian grinned. “Shame, I would have loved seeing you on your knees, but all right. While you were enjoying yourself in Shanghai, I was not inactive. I have a bit of news for you as well. Did you know our bank network specialist has some skills in hacking? He offered to try hacking into our friends’ networks.”
Alarms rang in Ekbeth’s mind upon hearing that. Lyrian saw his panic because he raised his hands in a calming gesture. “Don’t worry. I only allowed him to hack into Maire Kincaid’s work network. And very carefully. We got masses of very boring stuff. Some people have the worst tastes, really. Green Ferraris for the weekend? Anyway, one email proved our probing worth it.”
He tapped Ekbeth’s laptop with a finger. “In fact, we forwarded it to you yesterday. Strange that you missed it.”
Ekbeth was already reopening the computer. Found the message. “Ah. I still had to handle ten urgent things before getting to that one.”
“I did put ‘Urgent’ on it!”
“As the others did. Next time put ‘Kimiel.’”
The message was not making any sense. It was written in Chinese.
Lyrian smiled quietly when Ekbeth glared at him. “Maire Kincaid got quite a lot of personal emails in Chinese. Family and stuff. But what got our interest was the email address.”
Ekbeth looked at it. The country code was BT. He had no idea what country it was referring to.
“Bhutan, cousin. BT is the internet code of Bhutan. It’s a small kingdom between Tibet and India.”
“I know where Bhutan is, Lyrian. I’m not as ignorant of geography as you are. But why is it so interesting?”
“An email from Bhutan in Chinese? A bit of an unusual combination, don’t you think? I got it translated. It refers to a white lady that has been found once more, whatever that means. But the signa
ture was the most interesting. My translator told me it’s not a real Chinese name, more like a phonetic translation of a Western name. Three guesses at what the name was? Yes! Shona!”
Ekbeth suddenly felt like kissing the fool. At last, some breakthrough!
Lyrian was now grinning widely. “Indeed! And we’ve traced the email address back to a location.”
Kalem was already on his feet.
37
Shona was in trouble—she was starting to get bored. Not something she was ready to admit. She had never been bored while living in Bhutan before. Life had not been as hectic as she might have preferred, but there was always something going on. One learned to appreciate life at a slower pace. Any chore took a longer time to fulfill, be it because of the need to walk to a particular place to meet someone, or to many places to get the ingredients for a meal. And there was, for everyone, a lack of pressure to finish anything.
She could remember the hours she spent just listening to the pouring rain outside.
Not so long ago.
It was raining today as well. Only it was not the same. The rain was preventing her from going outside, practicing with her bow, or walking to the bridge to see how the construction was progressing.
The sound of the rain, no longer friendly and soothing, had become a hindrance.
She was currently helping Dorje with sorting the last delivery of silk threads by color and preparing them for the weaving. Still, boredom was creeping inside her. She had learned to recognize the signs over time.
“You are troubled, Shona-la.”
She looked at Dorje. The man had always been able to decipher her moods. Even better than her husband, his brother.
She sighed. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Dorje-la. With my life, I mean.”
He observed her for a long time, before saying, “Something will come eventually. You have to be patient. I can only tell you that you have no future as a weaver! Those are two different yellows in your hand!”
She corrected her mistake immediately, laughing. “You are right about this. And I’m trying to be patient. I thought… I don’t know what I was hoping for when I came here.”
