“So we all left. By this point, I was in trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“I felt sort of…numb. A little off balance, and I couldn’t see well. I was able to support myself for the most part, but Xiang and his friend had to assist.”
“You said Xiang had two friends there with you. Do you remember their names?”
“Yes. The male was Phua Youhong, the same man you told me to keep an eye out for. The female’s name is Meng. Susan Meng.”
Frank was scribbling notes in a small notepad. “What happened then?”
“They led me away from the dining area into a tunnel. That restaurant has these tunnels that—” Lee struggled to describe the layout.
“Yeah, I’ve been there,” Frank interrupted. “I know what you mean about the tunnels.”
“Okay, so we went through a tunnel for a little ways and turned a corner or two. I can’t remember exactly. But we ended up in this tiny room just off of the main tunnel. It was really small and round, like an inverted cylinder with a curved ceiling. And there was a mural—with a design like a cityscape, but with some other random symbols and some Chinese writing—around the entire perimeter and also on the ceiling.”
“Okay, what happened next?” Frank said as she continued to scribble on her pad.
“Well, I was pretty out of it at this point. And then they—”
Frank could tell she was upset. Frank reached toward her and placed her hand on her arm.
“It’s okay, Lyn. Please tell me everything.”
“Well, I just remember the three of them all around me. Phua sitting to my left, Xiang on my right, and Meng hovering above me. They started asking me all of these questions.”
Frank had quit scribbling. “What questions?”
“They were such odd questions.”
“Can you give a couple of examples?”
“They were asking questions about socialism and China in general. About my likes and dislikes.”
“Do you feel they were trying to gauge you somehow?”
“Yes, I think so. That was the feeling I was getting.”
“I understand,” Frank said. She was scribbling ferociously again. When she finished, she took a deep breath and silently exhaled. “What happened after they finished with the questions?”
“To be honest, I don’t remember.”
“What do you mean? Did you black out?”
Lee nodded. “Yeah.”
“For how long?”
“Just a few minutes. Well, around forty-five minutes or so, I think.”
Frank took another deep breath. “Lyn, why didn’t you call me and tell me this sooner?”
Lee found that she wasn’t sure how to respond. “I don’t know why. I was confused, I guess. Even now, I’m still not sure what exactly was happening that night.”
“What else do you remember after they started asking you these questions?”
“I just remember waking up. I was alone. Still in the alcove.”
“Did they do anything to you physically?”
“No, I don’t believe so. Nothing at all.”
“You’re absolutely certain?”
“Yes. I’m certain.”
Frank was looking straight at her, waiting for another response.
“Agent Frank, it’s okay. I don’t believe I was ever harmed physically.”
Frank seemed to relax. “How did you get home?”
Lee was about to answer when Reardon materialized.
“Sorry I’m late,” Reardon said, his deep voice cutting through the din of the patrons. Reardon was dressed sharply in a black suit.
“Hello, Ms. Lee,” he said with a curt nod. He slid into the booth next to Frank. “It’s good to see you again.”
Lee returned the greeting. Reardon asked, “What’s new with you two?”
“We’ve had an incident with Xiang,” Frank said.
Reardon’s greeting smile melted into a taut frown. “What happened?”
Lee recounted everything for Reardon.
“What do you think, Milt?” Frank asked.
“Hard to say. I think it’s possible that the whole night was a set-up.”
Though she couldn’t explain why, Lee felt something in her churn when Reardon used the phrase ‘set-up.’
Reardon continued. “I think they possibly had this planned from the beginning. I think they may have slipped something in your drink. Some kind of ‘truth serum.’ Something with a relatively temporary effect like a barbiturate of some kind.” Reardon studied Lee for a moment. “What do you think, Ms. Lee?”
“I just—I don’t know. I have a hard time believing it was deliberate. I had a lot to drink that night. It was probably just the effect of all the wine I had.”
“How much wine did you have?” Reardon asked.
“I don’t remember for sure. I re-filled twice, so three glasses, I think.”
“And you stated yourself that you were off-balance to the extent that you weren’t able to stay on your feet without having assistance from Xiang and his friend. Is that correct?”
Lee felt a bit embarrassed. “Yes.”
“What was going through your mind at that time? You said earlier that you all left the main dining area at your request, because you knew something was wrong? Is that true?”
“Yes, that’s true. I knew something was wrong.”
“Be careful not to underestimate the situation,” Reardon warned. “There’s a lot at stake. It will be easy for someone like you, I think, to place too much trust in Xiang.”
“Someone like me?”
“Yes,” Reardon said. “Someone like you.”
“I just can’t imagine Xiang doing that to me. He’s been so sweet to me.”
“Be very careful with Xiang. You have to always remember where his loyalty is. His father is a highly ranked government official in Shanghai and is now a major player within the C.C.P. If he’s being asked to act on behalf of the Communist Party by his father, or by the C.C.P. itself, our intel people believe he’d follow through without much internal resistance. Believe me when I say that everything Xiang does over here is being closely monitored by the C.C.P., and that’s whether he’s engaged in espionage activity or not. I wouldn’t underestimate him.”
Lee looked Reardon in the eye. “And don’t underestimate me, either, Agent Reardon. I am, generally, a trusting person, but I’m not naïve. I’m probably not who you think I am.”
“We know more about you than you may know,” Reardon said. “But Jillian and myself…we both trust you. And you’re doing a great job.”
Lee didn’t respond. They sat in silence for a few moments. Lee finished off the last few drops of her water.
“If they did slip something like that into my food or drink, I don’t know when they would’ve done it,” Lee said. “Phua and Susan didn’t arrive until after I already had my food and I was with Xiang the entire time.”
“There are ways it could’ve been done. The owners of the restaurant could’ve been involved,” Reardon said. “They may have done it at the request of the ambassador or someone else connected to the Chinese government.”
“Maybe,” Lee said. “If they did drug me, it changes the whole scenario.”
“Yes, it does,” Reardon said. “It has obvious implications. It means they are, at the very least, suspicious of you in some way. Maybe they don’t have any reason to be suspicious. It could’ve just been precautionary on their part.”
“I understand. I’ve been thinking a lot about this over the past week.”
“The good thing, from the perspective of our investigation, is that it implies that Xiang may be involved in something. Otherwise, there’d be no reason for such precaution. It means we may be on to something. It means we need you.” Reardon paused a moment before continuing. “Would you mind if we ran some simple tests on you to determine if there are any traces of these kinds of substances still in your body?”
“What kind of tests?”
&
nbsp; “We’d just take a urine and possibly a blood sample from you. I’d have one of our technicians come by your apartment. Probably not likely anything is still in your system at this point, but it never hurts to check.”
Lee shrugged. “Fine with me. I’d like to know for sure.”
“Excellent. How do you feel about continuing with Xiang?”
“I’m okay with it for now. But, if the tests turn up anything, I’ll have to reconsider the whole situation.”
“That would be understandable. We’ll proceed cautiously. I don’t want you meeting with us here at this cafe any longer and, preferably, not in public. We need to move forward with the assumption that they’re suspicious of you. They may have surveillance on you, so be aware of your surroundings at all times. If you become suspicious of anyone, let us know.”
“When and how will I be meeting with you, then?”
“For now I’d prefer to do it via video conference. We’ll want to meet face to face again before too long, but let’s use video conferencing for the next week or two. You have the software on your laptop. Make sure you do it from your home, not in a public place. Do you have anything else planned with Xiang?”
“Yes, I do. He called me Wednesday evening. He apologized profusely for what happened at the restaurant, and he invited me to another event with Ambassador Li.”
“What kind of event? Where’s it at?”
“The Ambassador is hosting a gathering of venture capitalists. A fundraiser of some sort. I don’t know all the details.”
“Where at?”
“On a boat somewhere. Xiang said it was anchored here in New York City—in the harbor.”
“Excellent,” Reardon said. “Jillian tells me you’re also going to an event sponsored by Brooklyn Capital. Is that correct?”
Lee nodded. “That’s true, yes. I invited Xiang to the Ingenuity Ball. But that’s not for two weeks.”
When they’d finished their drinks, Reardon insisted they each leave separately. Reardon went first, with Lee following a few minutes later. She left Frank behind with her computer. She’d agreed, at Reardon’s request, to go back home rather than to work to have the tests done. She left feeling as though she’d been given a wake-up call. The idea of Xiang intentionally drugging her was upsetting. The novelty of the situation was definitely wearing off. She wondered how much longer she could string this out. How much longer she was willing to string it out.
New York City
Thursday, February 12, 6:23 p.m. EST
Lee sat in the crowded railcar on a Thursday night, observing the throngs of people entering and exiting. For a number of reasons, she felt unusually relaxed on this evening. She let her mind be still, for once. Her body jostled gently along with the railcar as it made its way westbound into Manhattan. She pressed her winter coat tight against her, and breathed into the interior of her collar. She felt her warm breath on her face as the rattling of the car gently shook her bones and loosened the knots in her muscles. She fancied the ride as a massage, which helped her relax even more. She sunk further into the seat and shivered.
The train shuddered to a stop at Grand Central, where Lee reluctantly rose from her seat. She followed the crowd down the aisle and waited to get through the bottleneck until, finally, she was released into the cold Manhattan air. She made her way through the concourse and exited through one of the exits on the west side of the terminal. She walked nonchalantly, content to fall in step with a group of people making their way westbound on 43rd Street.
As with her physical body, she let her thoughts meander haphazardly. She was looking forward to her weekly dinner date with Megan O’Connor, who she would meet with at a restaurant in north Midtown in two and a half hours. She was also, she admitted to herself, a little bit nervous about it. It had become more and more difficult over the past few weeks to keep her activity with the FBI a secret. It was a secret that was hardest to maintain with those closest to her, particularly in the course of everyday conversation. She’d already divulged to Megan that she’d been dating Xiang, but that it was voluntary on her part. She was anticipating follow-up questions from Megan that she’d have to address. She’d have to divulge as little information as possible, but that was easier said than done.
She turned north on 5th Avenue, zigzagging casually around small groups of pedestrians. The streets were as busy as usual, particularly for five thirty in the afternoon as people were getting off work. She let her mind wander, pondering the complexity of her relationship with the city and how New York had become smaller to her as she’d grown older. When she was a child, New York was incomprehensibly big to her—a universe unto itself. The Hudson had seemed as big as an ocean, its mighty waves lashing against her father’s boat. As she’d grown older and gained awareness of the world beyond New York, it seemed to get smaller. But the relationship also became more intimate. New York had a weird way of behaving like a third parent—lashing out at her when breaking the rules, shaming her when overly prideful, and hardening her in moments of weakness.
She stopped for a while between 46th and 47th to watch a street juggler perform before continuing north for another block. As she crossed over to 47th, she was swimming in her thoughts on New York and her relationship with Xiang when a pedestrian crossing sign triggered an ancillary thought. The sign contained the familiar image of the silhouette of a man crossing a street. Her brain associated it with a similar image used as part of a logo by a formal-wear shop she was familiar with, except that the silhouette used by the shop was that of a man dressed in a tuxedo. She remembered suddenly that she’d wanted to visit the shop to find a new dress to wear to the Ingenuity Ball. Realizing this, she turned on a dime to head in the opposite direction, since the shop was located south of her current location.
As soon as she pivoted, she was greeted by a scattering of oncoming pedestrians: an older man in a tweed coat hobbling along with a cane, a retired couple in walking gear striding quickly forward, two young women chatting and sipping from steaming cups, a young black man in jeans, green-and-yellow street shoes, and a blue coat listening to a pair of headphones, a thin girl with short black hair.
Lee was shifting the focus of her vision from one pedestrian to another, but her eyes came back to the woman with the short hair. The brunette was standing in the middle of the walkway, frozen in space, and staring at her. She had a thin face, thin nose, dark, thin eyebrows that were accented sharply against her pale skin and narrow eyes. Chinese eyes. Her hair was buzzed, and she had a turquoise earring in her left lobe. Lee immediately felt as though she’d seen her before. The girl turned abruptly, as Lee had just done, and began walking quickly southbound.
Lee’s mind flashed instantly back to the young woman who’d clipped Xiang in the subway car. She replayed in her mind how Xiang had been upset at the young woman and rattled off a sharp rebuke to the girl. It was the androgynous girl. The one who’d fought her way through the crowd to the rear of the railcar, away from Xiang.
Lee felt a little colder upon the moment of her realization. This was the same girl. There had been no thoughts at the time that the girl might actually know Xiang. It had simply been a random passing of two strangers. She’s been following me, Lee thought. She’d taken the woman by surprise with her sudden change of direction.
Lee started into a jog, hoping to catch up to her. Two blocks later, she’d worked her way to within thirty feet or so when the woman looked back over her left shoulder. Lee noticed some detail in her face she hadn’t previously. The woman was older than she’d originally thought. Lee guessed she was in her early thirties. For half a moment, they locked eyes again. The woman burst forward into a quick jog, surging ahead in the crowd. Lee followed, as fast as she dared in the bustling traffic.
The woman was moving much more quickly now, but there was enough traffic, pedestrian and otherwise, to prevent an all-out sprint. She found herself moving in a fast jog, darting in and around pedestrians and even onto 5th Avenue occasionally. The woman was
short and thin, so Lee found it a challenge to keep the woman in her sights. She would lose sight of her temporarily, but inevitably she’d appear into view again.
The woman led her south down 5th Avenue and then east back toward Grand Central Terminal. Lee followed her into the terminal through one of the entrances on the west side, southbound through the concourse, and out the south exit. She turned westbound on 42nd Street, where they both passed under the Park Avenue Viaduct.
At first, the woman’s path had seemed random. At Grand Central she seemed to have a new purpose in her direction, a destination in mind. Lee followed westbound across Madison Avenue, back onto 5th Avenue, and then south for a few blocks to 32nd Street, where she turned in a westerly direction again before continuing in a zigzagging pattern for a few blocks until they reached the intersection of 6th Avenue and 26t Street.
The young woman was quick on her feet. On 26th Street, the woman crossed 6th Avenue, in another perilous scamper through traffic, to the west side of 6th Avenue before continuing westbound on 26th. With a sudden burst, she surged forward, launching herself into a virtual sprint as she rounded the corner of 26th and 6th Avenue. Before Lee knew it, the woman was around the corner and completely out of her sight.
Lee sped up as well, nearly colliding with a middle-aged man who’d just stepped out of a cab. She sprinted west along 26th Street until she reached a hotel where a series of cabs had congregated. Two of the cabs were pulling out onto 26th Street. The woman was nowhere to be seen. Lee sprinted toward the two cabs, but was unable to catch them as they accelerated into traffic. She jogged back to the remaining cabs, checking inside each one of them for the woman, but she was gone.
Chapter 22
New York City
Saturday, February 14, 7:08 p.m. EST
Lee sat, right leg crossed over her left, on Xiang’s sofa, caressing the base of a lamp next to her with her right hand. The base of the lamp, which itself was radiating soft, white light, was made of brown glass. It had been sculpted into a young Chinese imperial princess clothed in a traditional dress with a crown on her head. She was sitting Indian style with multiple legs wrapped around each other in layers extending down to the bottom of the vase.
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