It was a simple, summer style dress, a deep red with grey and yellow flowers, and spaghetti straps. He had done well; she liked it. Downstairs again there was no sign of Harry. James was reading in the living room, Sunisa was in the kitchen. The whole house was quiet and still. Mui walked out onto the rise above the beach, enjoying the stiff ocean breeze blowing her hair and dress around, and the bright, hot sun.
The white sand seemed to extend for miles in each direction, to the south, where green wooded hills slowly began to tower over the surf and a few more rocks poked their heads from the beach, to the north, where the small village sat in the centre of the bay, wooden docks reaching out into the waves.
Anna was below her, inspecting the high tide line. Mui walked down to join the girl. As she approached, Anna held up a small crab by one pincer to show her. Mui pointed, “Crab.”
“I know.”
“You speak English.”
“Yes,” Anna answered, matter-of-factly, and went back to exploring the driftwood and seaweed.
Mui giggled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
Anna looked at her. “Do you speak Chinese?” she asked.
“Yes.” Anna accepted this and let her join in, poking around the driftwood, finding crabs and shells. Later, they lay with their feet in the water and sank their toes into the wet sand. The morning passed slowly, quietly. Fishing boats crept by, and the small waves lapped lazily at the shore.
After lunch, Mui and Anna built a big castle of sand, with shells on the battlements and seaweed flags, then laughed as the water first filled the moat, then started to break down the walls, until it collapsed under the rising tide. It was late afternoon when Anna’s mother called her in to go home.
“Can we play again tomorrow?” she asked Mui.
“I’d love to.” She watched Anna disappear over the rise and behind the house, then walked back up to the garden. Harry was smoking a cigarillo on the veranda. She went to join him, just as Jim James came out of the house and sat down.
“Harry told me some of your story.” Mui looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “Well, I’ve been digging around, and I think I know who those men chasing your friends around are.”
“The bad men?” said Mui.
“Yes,” said Harry. “The bad men.”
James continued, “I’ve been calling in a few favours back in Langley, and the license plate you gave me has one known connection. Does Bureau 21 ring any bells?”
“Bureau 21?” Harry sounded confused. “I’ve never heard of them.”
“No, and you’re not meant to either. Top secret, very hush hush.”
Mui asked, “Well who are they? What do they do?”
“The Chinese intelligence service, the Ministry of State Security, is broken up into ten Bureaus. One deals with counterintelligence, one with domestic affairs, that sort of thing. Bureau 21 is a secret division.”
Harry said, “Black Ops?”
“No. Hardly. Most of their work is done through bugging, surveillance, burglary, infiltration. They don’t do wet stuff.”
Mui broke in, “Wet stuff?”
Harry explained. “It means operations involving lots of blood.” Mui grimaced at the thought.
James continued, “They don’t even do kidnappings, as far as we know. Too obvious; it draws too much attention.”
“Maybe that explains why they messed up the snatch,” said Harry.
“But what do they do?” Mui asked impatiently.
“Advanced weaponry, really high-tech shit. The first the CIA knew about them was when some guy was killed in a car crash. He was carrying early blueprints for the F-22, the stealth fighter. We think they’ve been around a good deal longer than that, though; we just got lucky, and traced him back to Beijing. As far as CIA intelligence can make out, they only deal with the cutting edge stuff. The last time they were detected in America was when their bugs were found in a company developing battlefield microwave pain rays for the US military. Six months later, satellites showed China field testing their own version.”
“But what do they want with me and my friends?”
“Well, if there are rumours of UFO pieces passing through Hong Kong, that’s exactly the kind of stuff that might interest them. Like I said, they don’t really go in for the rough stuff, but if they have to go through your friends to find the truth, especially on their own soil, then so be it.”
Mui shivered, despite the afternoon sun. She thought about Sandra, who was dead, and Andrew, who was still missing.
Jim James went on, “Of course, we don’t really know if they’re after you at all, or if they even know about you. But if they trace the rumours back to your Daddy’s business, like Harry said, then it’s a fair bet you’re on their radar screen.”
Mui shivered again. The wind seemed to be turning colder, although the sun was still bright. The blue of the sea seemed a little more frigid. “Why would they want me? They can’t use me to get to my father anymore.”
“Well, I guess right now we just don’t know. But don’t worry little girl, you’re quite safe, they’ll never find you here. Even the American government think I live in a small town two hundred miles to the north. Once you’ve been inside the system, you figure out how to fool it.”
Mui sat back in her chair. She lit a cigarette. What else could she do but trust him? “Do you believe in UFOs, Mr James?”
Jim James laugh was big and loud. He liked to use it. “I don’t know, Mui. I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff. A lot of strange stuff.”
*
The days seemed to pass easily for Mui, around a schedule of mealtimes. Sunisa had left some more new clothes for layed out neatly on the bed, sarongs, a swimsuit, flip-flops, shorts and some pretty tops. She would swim in the sea, doze on the beach reading, and take long showers to cool off. Sometimes she played with Anna, who was becoming very attached to her, and had taken to following her around and copying everything she did.
Occasionally, Harry and her would take a wander through the nearby village, exploring the tiny shops and market. In the evenings Jim James would play crackly old jazz records, or old American rock, and they would play cards on the veranda, or just quietly enjoy the view.
Since she was eating so much – meals were frequent and generously portioned - she figured she should do some exercise, and took to jogging along the beach around dawn.
Only Harry’s warnings not to go too far cast a slight shadow over the bright sunny days, but life was simple, and she was happy. She knew it couldn’t last, but she determined to enjoy it while she could. A few days later she set out early for a morning run. Wearing her swimsuit and a sarong tied short around her waist she jogged along the beach for ten minutes until it started to get a bit rockier. She left a pebble on the sarong so it wouldn’t blow away, and swam out into the sea.
It was deliciously cool and refreshing in the morning. She floated on her back and stared up into the blue sky, and watched the last couple of stars disappear as the sun came over the hills behind the house. Then she returned to the shore, stretched out the sarong and lay on her back, feeling the rays of the strengthening sun warm her skin, as the breeze dried her off.
She closed her eyes, and let her mind go blank. She didn’t want to think about the past, and Hong Kong. She didn’t want to think of the future, and what might yet happen. So she thought of now, the sand, the sound of the sea, the morning calls of the seagulls, the sun and the wind on her skin, and Harry.
She got up to run back to the house, stopping for one more swim, thirty metres out and back, then up to the house. Harry waited for her on the veranda, so she sat next to him, panting, and drained the glass of water she had left for herself.
Harry said, “You’re up pretty early.” The rest of the house was still. Even Sunisa and Anna weren’t there yet.
Mui took up a towel from the railing and started to rub her hair. “Once the pills kick in they don’t let me sleep much anyway. I might as well make use of my time
.” She took a cigarette from her packet. “You’re up pretty early yourself. You look tired. Couldn’t sleep?”
“I was e-mailing Chang half the night, in Hong Kong.”
“And?” Mui didn’t want to hear about Hong Kong. She didn’t want to hear about anything that would take her out of here and now.
“Your father’s funeral is in four days time,” said Harry.
Mui took a deep drag on her cigarette, and blew the smoke out into the morning air. For a moment she was deep in thought. She turned to face Harry. “I don’t care,” she said. “He was never around for me, never cared for me. Since mother died, it’s been me and Mrs Chan in the house. It never felt right when father was around.” Even Harry felt that she was trying too hard. “He didn’t fit in. He was never my family.”
Harry was quiet for a moment. Mui was breathing deeply. He said, “You now, when we get back to Hong Kong, your father’s business will be worth a lot of money.”
“I know. I’m going to sell it, to the very first buyer who makes me an offer.”
“I had Chang check, the estate is being handled by lawyers. You’re still listed as missing, with a kidnap investigation still ongoing.”
“And Mrs Chan?”
“She’s being paid from the estate. She’s still at your father’s house, as far as I know.”
Mui smoked quietly. The morning air was still. “I think I finished with my father a long time ago.” She stared at Harry, defiant, daring him to say something. Her face was set hard, and her eyes were cold.
The moment broke when Sunisa and Anna came around the corner of the house. Anna yelled and ran up to give Mui a hug. Mui stood and stubbed out her cigarette. She looked at Harry. “I’m going to take a shower now.” Harry watched her disappear inside the house.
Mui avoided the house and Harry for much of the rest of the day. She disappeared into her room after breakfast. After lunch, James announced he was driving in to Bangkok, and would be back the next evening. After they had watched his SUV pull off onto the highway, Mui went down onto the beach, followed loyally by Anna.
Harry worked in the living room on James’ laptop, trying to find out more about Bureau 21. Nothing came up; they were definitely top secret. He sent an email to Chang, asking him to look into them. When Sunisa and Anna left, Mui came into the house, walking straight past Harry, and made herself a sandwich in the kitchen. She disappeared to her room, and didn’t come down for dinner, so Harry ate alone.
After dinner he went out on to the veranda, to smoke and watch the sun go down. It had sunk below the horizon, and the stars were shining brightly in the cloudless sky, when he heard Mui coming down the stairs. Wearing the dress he had bought for her, she came out onto the veranda and stood in front of him.
He said nothing but looked up at her, as she looked back at him. Her eyes were red from crying. Then she curled up onto his lap, her arms around his neck, like she had in the motel, and started to sob. Harry held on to her, rocking her gently as her body shook with tears. They sat like that for a long time, until she was all cried out, and after a while she stood up again, trying not to look Harry in the eye, and sat in the next chair. She took out a cigarette and lit it, staring out into the blankness of the sea at night.
Finally, she said, “I need to find out what’s wrong with me.”
Harry said, “That’s why Jim’s gone to Bangkok. He’s meeting a blood specialist. We should try and hook you up with a doctor. One we can trust.”
Mui nodded. She looked up at the sky. “I’ve never seen so many stars. In Hong Kong you can barely see anything. The sky is so clear, way out here.” Harry sat watching her face. She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I don’t like it. It feels too open. I feel unprotected.” She looked at him. “I guess I’m a city girl after all.”
Harry smiled at her. She reached over and took his whisky glass, and drained it one shot, breathing out sharply and clutching a hand to her chest as she felt the liquid burn down her throat to her stomach. “That feels better.”
Harry laughed a little, took the glass back and poured himself another. He still didn’t say anything. Mui stood up, and put out her cigarette. She bent over Harry and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodnight,” she whispered, and disappeared inside.
*
The next morning, Harry noticed that Mui didn’t appear for her morning run, but when she came down to breakfast, she was bright and happy again. Anna hadn’t arrived with Sunisa – and since neither of them spoke Thai, and Sunisa spoke no English at all, they had no way to find out why – so Mui took her book out onto the beach alone, and spent most of the day swimming in the cool blue water, or sunbathing on a towel. Harry was still working on James’ laptop.
As they sat down to dinner, Harry said, “I heard from Chang. Jessica Lee left Hong Kong yesterday on a flight to Shanghai.”
Mui looked up from her food. “Is she following us?”
“She may be looking for us, but don’t worry. Even if she track us to Bangkok, I don’t think there’s any way she could find us here. And remember, I find things for a living, so I should know.”
Mui smiled at that, but still seemed uneasy. Harry went on, “Chang’s been digging some stuff up on the UFO story. There were Indian newspaper reports of a UFO crash in China, on the border with Nepal, in 2000. It got on to the conspiracy sites, of course, the kind of website your boyfriend used to hang around. The rumours in Nepal said that the Chinese military were sent into the area to investigate or retrieve, but it’s all just rumours, nothing concrete, not even a blurry video.”
Mui listened intently; she had forgotten her food. “It all sounds a bit, I don’t know, vague?” she said.
“I’ve been around these sites a bit recently. This story is typical, nothing much to go on. Chang looked in to the Chinese military side. The General and several high-ranking officers that were responsible for Nepalese border patrol at that time were arrested on treason charges in 2005. The general was sent to a work camp, and three officers were executed in 2006.”
Mui said, “So you think…”
“Well, it’s still not much in the way of evidence. But there’s more. Two years ago, sweeping arrests of city officials were made in Chongqing. Five people were executed on corruption charges last year.”
“So you believe Andrew’s story, then?”
Harry looked at her, “I’m not saying that. It’s all just circumstantial, but it could fit in to his story, yes. If it’s connected at all, it looks like the Chinese have been following the trail all the way from Nepal.”
“All the way to Hong Kong. To Andrew, and me,” Mui said.
“We don’t know about that yet. I still don’t know how you fit in to this. We’ll see what Jim has when he comes back from Bangkok.”
Mui started pushing her food around on the plate, but she was no longer hungry. She said to Harry, “Do you think the Chinese government killed my father?”
“I don’t know, Mui. Maybe. Or maybe it was Huang. Or maybe it really was suicide. I don’t know, yet.”
After dinner Mui washed up, then joined Harry on the veranda. They didn’t talk much; they were both waiting for Jim James to return. By eleven o’clock there was no sign of him. The wind was coming from the north now, and the night was cooler than before. Mui disappeared inside and came out wearing Sandra’s hoody. She took a large gulp of Harry’s whisky, gasping at the harshness, “to warm me up.”
By midnight, Mui was sleeping curled up on the small wicker sofa. It was chilly, but Harry thought she’d be alright, so he carefully covered her with a blanket, and let her sleep. He poured another whisky, and sat back to wait for Jim James.
*
When Mui woke up she was lying on her own bed, still clothed, with a sheet pulled loosely over her. The dim but spreading light through her window told her it was morning already. She took off Sandra’s sweatshirt – it was too warm for that now – and went downstairs to see if Jim James had arrived back from Bangkok. There was nobody aro
und except Sunisa in the kitchen, cooking pancakes and bacon. Mui took a cup of coffee out to the veranda to smoke. Ten minutes later Harry came out. “Did Mr James come back?” she asked.
“Yes, very late. You were out cold so I left you. Don’t worry, he’ll be down soon.” Jim James didn’t come down for breakfast, and Mui waited impatiently for him on the veranda. When he finally emerged, looking tired, he took a bacon sandwich and a coffee from the kitchen and joined Mui and Harry outside.
“Morning Mui. Now I know you want to hear what I’ve got to say, but let me get a mouthful of this first.” He took a huge bite out of the sandwich, and Mui waited while he chewed and washed it down with coffee. “Now. I spoke to a doctor friend of mine, a blood specialist. That medicine you’re taking, prednisone, isn’t used for blood disease, so your other doctor’s been lying to you from the start.” He took another bite of his sandwich. “Now, have you ever had any kind of cancer, or a tumour?”
“What?” She was shocked by the question. “No, nothing like that.”
“Well, I figured you would’ve mentioned it if you had. The other thing that drug’s used for, especially in a high dosage like yours, is transplant rejection.”
Mui said, “I don’t understand. What transplant?”
“Exactly. I figure you would’ve mentioned it if you’d had an organ transplanted, too. But that’s what the drug is used for.”
“So what does it mean? Why am I taking this stupid drug in the first place? What about when I was sick, like when Harry found me?”
“Well, the fever and sickness seem likely to be the effect of coming off the drug. Your bodies built up a dependence.”
The Sky Might Fall (Harry Vee, PI) Page 9
