The Goddess of Yantai

by Ian Hamilton

  “Good morning,” she said. “I was wondering if you could help with something. Did you know or did you ever work with a director named Bai Lok?”

  “Does this have to do with the disk?”

  “Only indirectly,” she said.

  “I can’t help you.”

  “You don’t know him?”

  “I’ve never heard of him.”

  “How about the actress Ren Lan?”

  “Her I’ve heard of, but we’ve never met.”

  “Thanks. And during the night, did you have any further thoughts about the man who delivered the envelope?”

  “No, but I did think about you saying I might have broken a law,” he said. “Since when does being a good neighbour deserve that kind of threat? You’re not from here. You don’t know us or how we support each other.”

  “You’re quite correct. I apologize if you thought I was unnecessarily direct.”

  He took a step back, as if he’d been expecting a more aggressive reply.

  “And while I’m staying at Fai’s home, I’ll try to be a better neighbour myself,” Ava said. She smiled and headed towards the exit to the hutong.

  She stayed in the hutong, travelling its length in both directions four times. The sky was overcast and the air was cold and damp, but there wasn’t any wind and her jacket kept her warm enough. The lane was crowded with what looked like local shoppers, and the stalls and shops were full of the sound of people bargaining. Nothing, it seemed, had a set price. This was the most time Ava had spent in the hutong, and she noticed shops she hadn’t seen before, including one that had interesting jewellery and another that had a small but good-looking selection of antique vases and sculptures. In a different time and given different circumstances, she might have looked for something for her mother and sister. But at that moment, all she could focus on was Pang Fai and the disk that could undo a career.

  Despite her veneer of confidence, Ava wasn’t kidding herself about the enormity of the problem they faced. But she couldn’t afford to dwell on it, because she knew that overthinking often led to paralysis and inaction. When she worked with Uncle, she had taken pride in her businesslike approach to problems that were sometimes huge, sprawling messes involving any number and manner of people. But regardless of how messy it was, she attacked every problem in the same way: one small step at a time, going from A to B and resisting the temptation to leap ahead, not making assumptions that the facts on hand couldn’t immediately support.

  It could be boring, plodding work, but when she got things right and the outcome fell her way, the satisfaction was overpowering. When her friend Derek was still helping her in the field, he used to say that a day working with her was twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes of tedium followed by five minutes of mayhem, terror, and adrenalin highs. She hoped that Fai’s problem wouldn’t need to be resolved that way, but in the back of her mind she began to prepare herself to come face to face with the blackmailer. If she did, it would be a last resort; it would mean that everything else she’d tried had failed. Ava didn’t like last resorts; they implied desperation.

  On her fourth circuit of the hutong, she checked her watch, saw she’d been gone for close to forty-five minutes, and ducked into Fai’s courtyard when she reached it. Fan was standing outside his door talking to an elderly woman. She waved at him, and he acknowledged her with a nod of his head before resuming his chat. Ava assumed he was telling the woman what a vile thing Fai had living under her roof.

  “I’m home,” Ava said when she walked through the door.

  “I’m still in the kitchen. Come and join me,” said Fai.

  “What did you find?”

  “Not that much, but it’s interesting,” Fai said. “It doesn’t appear that he was married or had a partner, or at least a partner with whom he had children. But he had a brother, Bai Jing. I worked with him on a couple of films. He’s a set decorator. I found him on one of the websites where film people post job vacancies and their work experience and availability. According to his most recent status update, it seems he’s still alive and living in Beijing.”

  “So he’s the next of kin? The beneficiary of whatever Lok left behind?”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “A good lead,” Ava said.

  “But there’s more,” Fai said, staring down at her tablet. “Lok’s agent was Xia Jun.”

  “The name means nothing to me.”

  “Right now it’s a toss-up between him and Chen for who is the most important agent in China.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “Xia worked for Chen before going out on his own. In fact, he handled a lot of the day-to-day details for clients.”

  “For you?”

  “No, but certainly for someone like Bai Lok, and even Lau Lau.”

  “Would Bai Jing use him as an agent?”

  Fai shook her head. “Jing isn’t important enough to warrant having an agent.”

  “Was Xia’s departure from Chen’s organization collegial?”

  “Xia walked out one day about three years ago, giving absolutely no notice. And he took as many of Chen’s clients with him as he could.”

  “So that’s a no.”

  “You would have a hard time finding two men in China who hate each other more.”

  “Well, we should probably avoid both of them for now. I think Bai Jing is the man we most need to talk to, and I’d like to do that in person.”

  “There’s a phone number for him on that job-posting website.”

  Ava opened the window on Fai’s phone. In addition to the number, there was a photo of Bai Jing. He was clean-shaven but had a mop of thick, unruly hair. She wondered if he shared any other genetic similarities with his brother. “What’s the best way to arrange a meeting with him?”

  “I could call him and say a film I’ve committed to is looking for a set decorator. I could say the producer asked me for recommendations and I mentioned his name. You’d be the producer, of course.”

  “That should work,” Ava said. “But Fai, this is another time when I think I should meet him alone. I don’t want you associated in his mind with the kind of discussion I might have to have with him. If he doesn’t know anything, there’s nothing to be gained and quite a bit that could be lost by having you there. I’m going to ask him about his brother’s amateur porn business, and he might think it odd that you’re with me. We don’t want him fantasizing or trying to put two and two together.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. So call him. I’d like to meet him today, anywhere he chooses.”

  “He should be coming to you, not you going to him. That’s the way the system works. You set the time and place and it’s up to him to find a way to get there. The only excuse he could have for not doing that is if he already has a job and can’t get away from it.”

  “Okay, then tell him to meet me in the Kempi Deli at the Kempinski Hotel at three.”

  ( 29 )

  Ava arrived at the Kempinski at a quarter to three and went directly to the Kempi Deli. There had been no sign of Bai Jing outside the hotel or in the lobby, and he wasn’t waiting for her in the café. Ava was desperate for a coffee and ordered a double espresso. There were many things she liked about staying at Fai’s, but the lack of coffee wasn’t one of them. Fai preferred tea and didn’t have coffee in the house. Ava had thought about buying some but didn’t want to appear too pushy or presumptive. Besides, she didn’t mind tea, just not a constant flow of it.

  She sat at a table by the window that gave her a view of the lobby. She gulped down the coffee and signalled to the server that she wanted another. While she waited, she took out her Moleskine notebook and reviewed the questions she had prepared for Bai. If he knew nothing, she suspected this was going to be a very short meeting. As she changed the sequence of some of the question
s, her phone sounded. She couldn’t remember if Fai had given Bai her number, and looked at the screen.

  “Hi, Suki,” she said.

  “I’m with our lawyers. We’ve just finished going over the draft of the agreement and it looks good to go. Are you available tomorrow to sign off on it?”

  “Well done, Suki. That’s a great piece of work. I should be available. Where and when?”

  “How about we meet at the Suns’ offices at eleven? We can sign the contract and then go for a celebratory lunch.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Ava said, just as she saw Bai Jing walking across the lobby. “Unless you hear from me, I’ll see you there at eleven.”

  Bai was short, like Fai’s description of his brother. He couldn’t be much more than a wiry five foot four, she figured, but unlike many of the short men she had known, he didn’t look very assertive. In fact he looked rather nervous, and that suited her fine.

  “Mr. Bai,” Ava said, rising from her chair. “Thank you so much for coming at such short notice.”

  “Ms. Lee?”

  “Yes. Can I get you a coffee or a piece of cake?”

  “No, I’m okay, thank you,” he said.

  He had a folder with him. Ava assumed it contained his résumé and examples of his work. “Then please sit,” she said.

  He eased himself into the chair and placed the folder in front of him. His hair was more carefully coiffed than it had been in the photo. He had hardly any wrinkles and his teeth were sparkling white. His shirt was ironed and his brown chinos were sharply creased. Ava guessed he was in his forties, but the way he presented himself made him look younger.

  “I have to say this is a rather strange introduction.”

  “In what sense?”

  “I’ve only met Pang Fai a few times in my life, so it was almost surreal when she called me out of the blue and suggested that I meet with you.”

  “Mr. Bai, I have to be honest with you — Ms. Pang is a friend of a friend. She did this as favour to him. I have never met her.”

  “Oh,” he said, his confusion obvious. “So . . . this film you want to make?”

  “There is no film. I just wanted a chance to meet with you.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to talk to you about your brother.”

  He looked around the deli as if he was expecting someone else to arrive, which set Ava on edge. “My brother has been dead for years,” he said.

  “I know. Were you his only sibling?”

  “I was.”

  “Did he ever marry? Did he have a partner? Did he have children? Are your parents still alive?”

  “Whoa, those are a lot of questions.”

  “And easy enough to answer.”

  “But why should I? And who are you to ask questions like that? Why am I here?”

  “Those are a lot of questions as well,” Ava said, sitting back in her chair and trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. “Is it sufficient for me to tell you that I have a client who became involved with your brother in a project that didn’t work out so well for him? There aren’t any hard feelings and there’s nothing illegal or sinister attached to it, so we’re not looking to cause you or the memory of your brother any harm. But my client wants to clear the record, so to speak. Our hope is that you can help us do that . . . for a fee, of course.”

  “A fee for what? What is it you think I can do?”

  “Well, just for agreeing to meet with me and for the inconvenience it cost you, we’re going to pay you ten thousand renminbi,” Ava said. “If you continue to assist us and if you can help us clear that record, we’ll pay you substantially more.”

  “How much more?”

  “That depends on the level of your co-operation and the information you provide.”

  “What could I possibly know that could help your client? I mean, I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”

  Ava sipped her espresso, her eyes locked on Bai. He looked nervous but not scared, and she sensed that the prospect of making more money had captured him.

  “Before getting to that point, can I return to the questions I asked earlier?” Ava said. “The answers will help clarify how much help you might be.”

  “I guess so,” Bai said, and then glanced towards the service counter. “I’d like a coffee now too, if that’s not a problem.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Espresso, like you.”

  Ava waved to the server and then said loudly, “Two double espressos, please.”

  “You asked me if my brother was married. Well, he wasn’t,” Bai said. “He also never had a live-in partner and there weren’t any kids.”

  “Are you his only living relative?”

  “No. We have an aunt who lives in Dalian, but it’s been twenty years since I saw her, and I don’t think Lok saw her either.”

  “I was told your brother died of cancer about three years ago.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Were the two of you close?”

  “We moved to Beijing together when we were young, and we lived together for a few years while we tried to get established in the business. After that we stayed in touch, but I wouldn’t say we were close. He smoked, drank a lot, and fucked any woman who would have him. My lifestyle was quite different.”

  “Did you see him before he died?”

  “He lived with me for about three or four months before it got too bad and he had to go into a hospital. I was with him when he died.”

  “It was good of you to look after him.”

  Bai shrugged. “What else could I do? He needed someone, and I was all he had.”

  “Did he leave an estate?”

  “A what?”

  “Property, money, any possessions of note?”

  “He spent every renminbi he ever made. The only things he ever owned that had any value were his cameras, and he sold them one by one over the last six months of his life. Some of them he sold for peanuts, but he needed money so badly he didn’t care. I used the little cash he had left to pay for his cremation and a small gathering for some colleagues.”

  The server arrived with the espressos. That gave Ava a chance to hide her disappointment at the way the discussion was going. She waited until Bai had dissolved a cube of brown sugar in his coffee and taken his first sip, before continuing. “So your brother left nothing at all behind, no possessions?”

  “His clothes, which I threw out, and a couple boxes of stuff.”

  “Stuff?”

  “A box of films, DVDs, and some CDs. I imagine they’re copies of some of the films he made. And another box with more DVDs and a bunch of paper.”

  “Did you watch any of the films or disks?”

  “No.”

  “Did you go through the paperwork?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Where are the boxes now?” Ava asked.

  “In the back of my closet.”

  Ava took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I think my client might have an interest in looking at what’s in those two boxes.”

  “Why?”

  “It isn’t something that I’m free to discuss, but we would pay you for the opportunity.”

  Bai hesitated and then said, “How much?”

  “Another ten thousand.”

  “Just to look?” he said.

  “Yes.”

  “How would we arrange that?”

  “Well, you could take me to the boxes or bring the boxes to me.”

  “It might be easier for you to go to them rather than me lugging them around.”

  “I’m fine with that.”

  “When would you want to do it?”

  “How about right now?”

  He looked uncertain.

  “How close is y
our place to the hotel?”

  “Half an hour by taxi.”

  “I’ll give you the first ten thousand before we leave here, and of course I’ll pay for the cab.”

  “It’s just that my place is a bit of a mess right now.”

  “All I care about is the boxes.”

  “Then I guess it should be okay,” he said hesitantly.

  Ava reached into her Louis Vuitton bag and extracted a wad of notes. They were strapped together in stacks of twenty-five. She handed four stacks to Bai.

  He stared at the money. “I can’t begin to imagine what your client did with my brother that’s worth this kind of money — and ten thousand more.”

  “Nothing that’s of interest to anyone but him,” Ava said.

  ( 30 )

  Bai Jing lived in Tongzhou, a district on the eastern perimeter of Beijing, about twenty kilometres from the Kempinski Hotel. The cab ride took close to an hour, and Ava passed the time by quizzing Bai about his brother’s career and his own. He was reluctant to say much at first, but her soft-spoken, if feigned, interest eventually got to him and she learned more about the ins and outs of set decoration than she imagined was possible.

  He was also candid about his brother. In his opinion, Bai Lok had squandered an enormous talent. Lok had started his career as an apprentice with a famous director. By the time he was in his mid-twenties, he was already acting as an assistant director and was a peer of, among others, Lau Lau. The problem, according to Jing, was that Lok had no self-discipline. He was easily distracted and couldn’t resist the temptations of booze, drugs, and women. When he was younger, those vices had no impact on his ability to work, or on its quality. But as he got older it was harder for him to recover after a big night, and he developed a reputation for being unreliable. Work became harder to find, and no one trusted him to direct a film on his own.

  “My understanding is that Lau Lau had the same weaknesses,” Ava said.

  “As a young man, Lau Lau was regarded as a prodigy and given every opportunity. My brother was never held in that same high regard,” Bai said. “But eventually it all caught up to Lau Lau as well. He hasn’t made a film in years, and I’d be shocked if he was ever given another chance. But back then he was still thought of as a genius, and people were willing to cut him all kinds of slack.”