by Sewell, Ron
An idea rattled Petros’ brain. “Are you familiar with this province?”
He grinned. “Far better than the locals. Who to bribe, at what price and who to ignore.”
“That must prove useful.”
“Being a doctor I command the power of life. Most patients don’t have a clue what’s wrong with them, so I can say many interesting things, more than ever if I don’t like them. I tell them they have acute appendicitis when a dose of Andrews would cure gut ache. Debts of honour get you many things and people glance the other way when something’s not kosher.”
Petros let his mind wander. He could use this man. Would he take the bait? “Nathan, are you a betting man?”
“China is the birthplace of gambling. Why do you ask?”
“Is one hundred thousand US dollars worth winning?”
Nathan paused before commenting. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, but I warn you, it could be a tad risky.”
“I’m no hero and the easy path for me is the safest. You must be aware the police check aliens and you’ll need to give them an account of your accident. Furthermore, you will have to pay for the hire car.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” snapped Petros.
Nathan shrugged. “Maybe not, but you’re in China and I recommend you don’t visit the inside of the local jail. You’d have a problem living more than a week.”
“So you’re telling me to cough up and shut up.”
“The choice is yours and it would be good faith to give a generous donation to the truck driver’s family. The Chinese believe fate caused him to crash into your car and he’s out of work. You’ll never comprehend China until you understand its past – KFC and McDonalds in Beijing change nothing.”
“The money’s not a problem, but you didn’t answer my question.”
“We should not discuss these matters here. What’s your full name and where are you staying?”
“Petros Kyriades, PK to my friends, and my partner and friend, Bill Morris, known to one and all as Bear. We have the penthouse suite at the Green Lake.” He paused. “Why don’t you and your family come over for dinner on Sunday?”
“I’ll check if Sunday’s free and leave a message at reception. Thanks. I must examine your friend Bear.”
Petros and the doctor returned to find an ugly man in uniform smoking a cigarette and sitting in Davenport’s chair. Bear, asleep on the office floor, snored loudly. The uniformed man pointed at Davenport. “Go! Come back later.”
Tight-lipped, he left.
“Mr Kyriades, I am Police Commander Ding Lang. You not English but still you believe you rule the world. My country welcome foreign visitors. You inquisitive but not visited any of the tourist locations. Please tell me what you are doing here?”
Bear snorted, mumbled incoherently but appeared to be undisturbed.
“I am here hoping to explore China. The Great Wall and Tiananmen Square are fine for the two week package holiday, but my friend,” He pointed to Bear, “and I, want to experience something different.”
“Why do I not believe you? At your expense I have arranged for your vehicle to be uplifted. It is the law I check your papers.”
“Thank you. Here is my visa, license and car hire details.”
Commander Ding Lang gave them a cursory glance and tossed them on the desk towards Petros. “In China, gay men are not tolerated.” The man wagged his finger, picked up his cap and marched out of the room.
Moments later, Davenport returned, frightened and shaking. “Why’s that nasty piece of work interested in you? He’d shoot his own children if he had any and it meant promotion out of Kunming.”
A vehicle started, and glancing out of the window, Davenport smiled as Ding Lang drove out of the hospital entrance.
“I wish I knew,” said Petros. “Bear, did you listen to what that pompous git said?”
“Yes, darling. I agree with the Doc – the cop’s a clenched-arsed civil servant who can give us grief.”
“Mr Morris – or can I call you Bear? – I need to check you out. You may be concussed.”
“It’s Bear. Don’t bother, Doc, I’m fine. Give me your phone number and, if I need you, I’ll call.”
Talking of the which,” said Petros. “Sunday evening. Shall we say seven-thirty or eight?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine but my wife keeps the diary. Everything being equal, it’ll be a pleasure to join you both. My wife speaks a little English but my six year old son is proficient in both languages, so be careful what you say. We won’t be able to stay late. Da, my son, attends school in the morning.”
“Fair enough. By the way, what do we owe you for the medical services?”
“Give me your insurance details on Sunday. I always let the bureaucrats do the paperwork. I’m a doctor.”
Petros nodded to Bear. “Time to go.” He turned to the doctor. “Speak to you later.”
The next day Petros paid the car rental firm the inflated sum they demanded. For a few days both wandered along the tourist trail with British, American and German sightseers. They visited the Stone Forest, where they spent the whole morning rummaging around caves. The forest itself, once away from the crowd, allowed them to relax, knowing somewhere in this field of stone pillars one of Ding Lang’s men prowled.
Chapter Fifteen
Late in the afternoon Petros, accompanied by Bear, walked to the main communications office in Kunming and made a call to Chinese George. In minutes they were connected.
“George, Petros Kyriades.”
“Mr Kyriades. Say what you must. I’ve just got out of bed.”
“The price of delivering your package has increased, providing ...”
“Providing what?” interrupted George.
“It stops raining and you send me one hundred thousand pounds. Oh, by the way, I always have a Plan B in case you have a different agenda. I’ll check with you in a few days.”
“I’ll give it due thought and consideration.”
“You do that, George.” Petros ended the call.
* * *
Reception appeared quiet when they entered.
“Mr Kyriades,” said the receptionist. “Message for you, important.”
Petros read the typed sheet of paper and passed it to Bear.
Will join you for dinner. Nathan.
Sunday evening arrived. Petros and Bear, casually dressed for the occasion, waited. The dining room staff, duly bribed, positioned the table in the large bay window overlooking Green Lake. The headwaiter opened the French red wine and left the Italian white chilling. To the second, Nathan and his family entered the hotel.
Nathan presented the most delicate of women, his wife Yun, to Petros, then Bear. She had the face of a porcelain doll, surrounded by the blackest of short, straight hair and the slight figure of a child. A loose-fitting pale blue dress covered her diminutive frame. Their son, Da, acted as any other six year old but spoke to them in English with an upper class accent and in Mandarin to his mother.
Petros guided them to the table and, once seated, waiters flocked around.
With an excellent meal and interesting company, they passed a pleasant evening. Often it became difficult for Yun to understand European humour but she smiled and said little. With a large brandy in his hand, Nathan glanced at Yun. He assisted her from her chair, waited for her to say goodbye and walk with Da into the main foyer.
“Why didn’t she stay?” said Petros.
Nathan winked. “You must appreciate that what she doesn’t hear, she cannot tell. No loss of face.”
“What did you say to her?” asked Bear.
“I told her that if our arrangement went well, next year we will be holidaying in Disneyland.”
Without any preamble, Petros explained that he needed to extract a woman from her home and, if successful, transport her and the twenty-seven wooden beads of an Imperial necklace to the United Kingdom. “This, you will understand, poses a few problems.”
; Nathan rubbed his chin. “You’ll be aware of what happens if we’re caught. The three of us will be standing in front of a Chinese firing squad. As a point of interest you even have to pay for the bullets. What's with this necklace?”
Petros told him Chinese George’s story.
Nathan nodded but did not bother to conceal his interest as Petros explained. “There have always been tales of missing treasure from the Forbidden City, but most believe they’re just fiction. Communist scholars have studied for years the ancient manuscripts written by the Emperors’ scribes. From my own knowledge, nothing has been found.” He shrugged. “I believe you’re wasting your time. Still, no harm in listening. I’ve had an excellent meal and enjoyed the company. The million dollar question is why do you need me?”
“You speak Mandarin,” said Petros. “This woman may not be where we believe she is and, without an interpreter we can trust, we’d never find out. We need your linguistic skills. Afterwards, you get your money and we disappear with the girl.”
“Is that all?”
Petros tilted his head. “Yes. Are you in or out?”
Nathan nodded in acceptance. “In this country you can hire an interpreter for a few hundred dollars. A good one will cost you five hundred, but one you can trust is priceless. Yes, I’m in.”
Petros sighed with relief. “Good. Can you get away for the whole day tomorrow? We need you to drive us to Nan Ping.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Bear and I will walk to the hospital and lose Ding Lang’s men. What do you drive?”
“An old Ford pick-up. Not the most comfortable but starts first time every time.”
Petros nodded. “Wait for us to the left of the main entrance at eight. If we suspect a tail, we’ll turn right. Providing everything’s okay, we’ll jump into the back. Tomorrow’s the reconnaissance run.”
Nathan stood up and shook both men’s hands. “See you tomorrow.”
Petros waved as he accompanied his wife and son out of the building. “I hope nothing goes wrong. Come on, Bear, time for bed.”
“He’s a decent man. We don’t want to fuck up his life.”
“No intention, but I’m concerned our hostile policeman might notice. We must be ultra-careful.”
Both men headed for their room.
A waiter sprinted after them. “Message for Mr Kyledes.”
Petros took the envelope and removed the one sheet of paper. “Bear, George has agreed.”
Chapter Sixteen
Petros and Bear woke before sunrise, showered and dressed in faded jeans and old clothing. Both agreed as a disguise it failed miserably. Africans or Europeans stood out wherever they went. The staring and touching brigades no longer bothered them. The locals regularly gawked at a blond-haired man and the large black man who had no hair.
Showered and dressed, they ate breakfast in their suite. Ready, they left, avoiding the floor attendant and the police officer resident in the foyer. The fire exit stairs offered the perfect escape route. Checking continually, they walked round the lake and a short distance to a copse. On entering the streets of Kunming, both checked none of Ding Lang’s men followed. Bear took the lead, darting along narrow side roads, while Petros found a suitable place for concealment. Every ten minutes or so Bear backtracked and located Petros.
“Anyone?”
“Not a soul. With luck we’ll be well on our way before we’re missed.”
They repeated the same routine several times. Nathan, waiting by his truck, nearly waved when he saw them. Bear and Petros checked one more time before they leapt into the rear seat.
“Drive as normal,” said Petros.
“Normal? You’re joking,” said Nathan. “Give way, you lose face.”
The route, albeit familiar to Petros, appeared different. The conditions were excellent: roads dry and the sun even managed an occasional venture from behind the clouds. They passed collective farms perched on sheltered hillsides. The new road cut across steep banks from which breathtaking views became frightening. Nathan stated that many of them dated back to the days of Genghis Khan and the houses, two to three centuries. The revolution changed everything, except the rich fled and the poor stayed poor.
They drove past their accident spot, but apart from a few wheel marks and the rutted edge of the grass verge, no trace of wreckage remained.
“Are you aware,” said Nathan, breaking the silence, “in the last ten years Yunnan Province has constructed more roads than any other province in China? Many villages are still without proper roads.”
“Why the sudden change?” asked Bear.
“China is no longer closed to the rest of the world and tourism is foreign currency. They need a good infrastructure for the thousands of coach tours. What did an American tourist say to me, ‘Today is Tuesday, must be Kunming’.”
“So the teachings of Mao are over,” said Petros.
“Not in a million years. His effigy dangles from the rear view mirrors of taxis like the cross of Christ in Christian countries. Next, Maoist temples will be constructed.”
“Well the masses did worship him,” said Bear.
“China at the moment is one weird place.”
They entered Nan Ping an hour or so later, parked the car and started walking.
“Nathan.”
“Yes, PK.”
“We have a faded photograph of this woman and a possible location. I’m told the farm grows rice and tobacco.”
“Can I see it please?” Nathan studied the picture. “This is an old administrator’s house. You can tell by the size. With the empire gone, houses of these dimensions were subdivided. You two have a cup of tea or coffee. You’re a hindrance and these people won’t talk to me while you’re with me.”
“Okay. As Burger King and McDonalds aren’t easy to find, where do we go for a drink?” said Petros.
Both men trailed Nathan through narrow streets where the slanting roofs of the opposing houses more or less joined.
He stopped outside an entrance to a courtyard.
“Come, here we have a coffee house of high quality. Sit, I’ll order and don’t go sight-seeing or I’ll never find you.” He pointed. “The toilet’s over there. The blue door, on the left. I’ll pay the bill and if you want more, turn your cup over. Any questions?”
“Any idea how long you’ll be away?” asked Petros.
“The length of a piece of string. Don’t worry, I’ll be back later.”
“If you find her, don’t forget to ask if she has the necklace,” said Bear. “Remember, without it we go home.”
Nathan levelled his eyes at Bear. “Are you telling me that’s more important than the girl?”
“I repeat, no beads, no treasure,” said Bear. “She, sorry to say, becomes redundant. But we need to find her first.”
Nathan suspected Bear knew more than he was telling. “I’ll be on my way.” He strolled into the street and became lost in the crowd.
Petros sat back and took in his surroundings. The army had given him courage, discipline, integrity and a respect for others. Trained him for every contingency, or so they thought. Now, in the middle of China, he had to rely on a man he didn’t know.
Bear rested his feet on a nearby wall and, having drunk his coffee, fell asleep. Years of training made him act that way.
Petros turned his cup over and a girl hurried across, bowed, said something and replaced it with a full one. He nodded and said, “Thank you” in Mandarin. She looked to be age ten or twelve. Asian women invariably appeared young for their age and he assumed she was at least sixteen.
An hour elapsed before Nathan returned.
“You found her?” said Petros. He kicked Bear’s chair, waking him.
Nathan sat and ordered green tea. “Well, yes, I’ve located the house and spoken to the farmer who does nothing but complain. I saw the girl. She’s a bonded servant and unable to buy her freedom ... Unfortunately, she has a son, age six or seven.”
“Bloody marve
llous,” remarked Petros
“I need to talk to her to find out if she’s willing to run with her child.”
“When do you plan to speak to her?” asked Bear.
“I will try this afternoon when she’s tending the fields.”
“We’ll do a recon of the vicinity,” said Petros. “If she's willing, it will have to be in and out fast. Your red pick-up stands out like the Virgin Mary in a brothel.”
“It’s past lunch time,” said Bear. “What’s to eat in this place?”
“Vegetables and noodles, not long cooked. I recommend them.”
“Make mine a double large,” said Bear.
Nathan ordered noodles, spicy vegetables, and green tea. The three men ate with gusto. Petros, with one arm in a sling, followed the local practice of using his fingers. They agreed, for simple village food, it was tasty.
“Right, time we went. Lead on, Nathan,” said Petros.
The three men strolled through the narrow streets. Petros stopped on the odd occasion when young girls put their hand up to stroke his blond hair.
“You say my pick-up stands out. This whole village will be discussing a yellow-haired man and a black man for weeks.”
“True,” said Petros.
On approaching the farm, Bear and Petros concealed themselves in a willow grove, while Nathan wandered further along the road.
Less than two hundred metres in front of them stood a large building. At one time grand with its curved, sloping roof and ornate painted entrance, years of neglect were plain to see but the vivid red still displayed many gold-painted Chinese characters. Elsewhere, a patchwork of repairs covered the complete building. To the left of the girl’s home, a collection of grey concrete buildings filled a compound surrounded by a double wire-mesh fence. A guard operated a red and white painted pole barrier by hand, the road leading to it constructed of compacted stone. In the centre of the parade ground, the Chinese National flag fluttered in the light breeze. The trace of boiled cabbage wafted in the air. Men in army uniform lounged on wicker chairs outside a barrack room. Chinese music screeched from speakers in every corner, its mournful racket painful to the ears. “Cats fighting over a dead rat,” said Bear.
