The Profit Motive, page 21
part #2 of Sterling and Mason Series
“Interesting, sir. So you think Zhang could be behind her kidnapping?”
Rong sneered. “The man is on the run after killing four policemen. You think he’d get involved with kidnapping a woman?”
Tang tapped the papers on her desk. “I’ve made a list of people who might be involved in her father’s disappearance.”
“Sex traffickers?”
“Here are the names, sir.” She placed the list she’d compiled in front of Rong. “Do you want to start with these two?” Quan Liang and Fang Jiao’s names sat at the top.
Rong studied the names for several seconds, pulling at his earlobe. “So… this list, how have you come up with it?”
“They are people linked to Mr Hetherington’s business. They would know about his daughter, so fit with your theory.”
Rong stroked his chin. “Leave this with me but, in the meantime, concentrate on people in the sex trade.”
“But your theory, sir. It must be someone who knows he’s got a—”
“Sergeant, you seem to have trouble following orders. I am not Jie. Do. As. You. Are. Told. Leave these people alone and concentrate on sex traffickers.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jie sat at his kitchen table and stared at the wall. He ground out the cigarette smouldering in the ashtray. He’d spent another sleepless night. All that work and they’d arrived too late.
“Turn off the headlights,” Byron ordered and Harry complied.
The car crawled forward over the wooden bridge and negotiated the rutted track. Jie hoped the young man’s night vision was better than his.
“There on the left,” Adam said.
Jie peered and could just make out a darker shadow a hundred metres away.
“Stop.” The engine died and Byron addressed him. “Adam and I will go in, you wait here.”
Jie didn’t argue. Byron turned off the courtesy light. The two ex-military men slipped out of the vehicle, barely making a sound and disappeared into the darkness.
After what felt like an eternity, a signal flashed from the building and Harry started the engine, put the headlights on and drove toward the building.
The two men stood in a rubble-strewn opening and Jie didn’t need to see their expressions to know they’d arrived too late.
Who could have taken Miss Kate? He’d thought for a short while it might have been the police but calls to old colleagues had confirmed they’d had nothing to do with the raid. He’d told Adam he’d let the police know what had happened, but hadn’t yet. The fact Rong now led the investigation had a lot to do with that. Besides, Jie was sure they’d find no evidence at the disused factory to point to whoever now had Kate. But who was it, and why? The questions had gone round his mind all night.
Mei came into the kitchen. “Long day yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“What time did you get home?” She filled the kettle.
“Gone two.” They’d sat in the hotel bar, discussing what to do. He wondered if Adam was having an affair with the woman.
“You’re not in work today?”
“Sorry?” What to tell her? “I’m going in late.”
She studied him, her head to one side, the way she’d looked at him all those years ago and his heart somersaulted. “You were never a good liar,” she said, “at least not when you lied to me.” She sat and took his hands in hers. “Something’s wrong—”
“I told you four of my men—”
“No. There’s something more.”
He couldn’t meet her gaze. “I’ve been suspended.” There, he’d said it.
“Because of those four men?”
He nodded.
“That’s ridiculous. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have waited for back-up.”
“You are the best man to catch the killer. Who is in charge of the investigation?”
“Rong.”
“That idiot! He couldn’t find his own penis with a map.”
Jie smiled. He’d never heard Mei use such language. “You’re probably right.”
The kettle moaned, getting ready to whistle. She stood and made the tea. “Where did you go yesterday?”
He considered lying but remembered what she’d said. “I can’t tell you everything.”
“Why not?”
“You could get into trouble.”
“Meaning you will be in trouble if it comes out?”
He hesitated. If Danny complained, Jie would end up in jail. “I can tell you some of it.”
Mei brought the tea over and poured out two cups. “I suppose I must be satisfied with that.”
He told her, missing out Danny’s abduction and questioning.
“How did you discover where Zhang held her prisoner?”
“Is there any congee?” Jie said. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled.
Mei sighed and went to the cooker. Jie finished his tea and lit another cigarette, savouring the smoke.
“What has Rong said?” she asked, over her shoulder.
“What about?”
“Who he thinks has taken the woman?”
Jie examined his cigarette. “I haven’t told him yet.”
Mei stopped and studied him. He waited for her reproach, but she sighed again and carried on cooking. Jie finished his cigarette and, fishing out his phone, made a call.
“Sergeant,” he said when Tang answered, “how are you?”
“Fine, sir, and you?”
“You know…”
“Yes... Sorry… I meant to ring…”
A lump in his throat stopped Jie from answering.
Silence stretched until Tang said, “How can I help you?”
“The girl, Kate. Zhang held her at the old shoe factory off Xiyuan Road.” Jie gave the address.
“She’s there now?” Tang said.
“Someone took her.”
“You sure Zhang originally kidnapped her?”
“I’m positive.”
“How did you find out, sir?”
“How is the hunt for Zhang going?”
Tang snorted. “He’s got me looking at sex traffickers.” She told Jie Rong’s theory.
“What do you think?”
Tang hesitated. “This is all linked to Wen Nie. We should look at Quan Liang and his wife.”
Jie agreed. “What has Rong said?”
“Leave them alone.”
Jie couldn’t imagine Rong upsetting someone as well connected as Quan Liang. “Do you have his home address?”
“Sorry, sir, I can’t give that information out.”
“I can find out elsewhere.”
After a few seconds Tang said, “Did you see the pictures of the penthouse apartment at the top of the Dragon Tower?”
Jie chuckled. “I’ll be sure to have a look, thank you, Sergeant.”
Feeling much better, Jie called another number.
The foul taste in her mouth told Kate she’d been sick. She lay on something soft and a rough blanket covered her. She opened her eyes and peered into inky blackness. Fragments of memory returned, voices, then a crash, bright lights and shouting figures running in through the hole where the wall had been. A masked figure placing something over her face and a chemical stench so vivid nausea returned. She heaved but nothing came up.
Apart from a headache, now relocated to just behind her forehead, she couldn’t feel any other injuries. She raised her head but an explosion of pain stopped her. Cold sweat coated her skin. The agony passed and she tried again. Taking her time, she was able to sit upright.
She checked her ankles, but the chain had gone. If she could get up, she might be able to escape. The process took an age, but she finally stood, light-headed and dizzy. When her breathing slowed to normal, she heard what could have been voices and shuffled toward them, arms outstretched. As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she could discern deeper shadows.
The voices came from behind one of those and she shuffled toward a large rectangular shadow. Her hand hit a wall and then a gap. A doorway. She passed through it and saw a door at the far end of another room, outlined by thin strips of light. Moving more confidently, she shuffled toward it. The voices grew louder and she placed her ear against a vertical crack.
“...of course I ring right number. You want to try.”
English! But he had an accent she couldn’t pinpoint.
“Keep your bloody hair on. What do you want to do, then?”
“We stick to script, ring on the hour, is only a few minutes. The lazy bastards must be up by now.”
Kate was sure she’d heard the accent recently, but where?
“What about the woman?”
“What about her?”
“Shall we feed her?”
“No need, they probably want us to kill her.”
Kate’s insides froze.
“Why didn’t we just slot her and leave her where we found her?”
“Maybe they want to question. I do what I’m told. You should try.”
“I’d be more than happy to ask her a few questions.”
The first man laughed. “Don’t damage her—”
“You serious?”
“Why not, I might join you after I ring bitch again.”
CHAPTER 33
Wenzhou City, Zhejiang Province, China
Adam studied the image on Harry’s laptop. “I’m sure that’s the place we found last night.” He pointed to the screen. “There’s the chain.”
Byron peered at the picture. “Here’s the mat.”
“So, we just ignore this?” Eric said.
“This must be from Zhang and he’s no longer got her, so yes,” Harry said.
Since learning of Kate’s kidnapping, Eric looked to Harry for guidance. From his reaction, Adam guessed he had nothing to do with what happened to Oliver. That was one problem Kate wouldn’t have to deal with when she returned. All they had to do was get her back. The phone in the room emitted a single note: reception. Jie must be here. Harry answered and confirmed this. Adam made sure Eric would tell H & T to stall on the ransom demand, just in case, and the three of them left him to meet up with Jie.
“Should we get our hardware, Adam?” Byron said as they walked to the lift.
“I got the impression the people we’re going to see are more sophisticated than Zhang. Anyway, I don’t like carrying mine, too much risk for not enough benefit.”
Byron’s laugh rumbled. “I know what you mean. A good catapult has more stopping power.”
Jie waited in the reception, pacing the floor. He looked as rested as Adam felt and he almost forgave him for leaving Kate alone in the car. As they drove to Quan Liang’s home, Jie outlined how he wanted to play the meeting with him and his wife, who sounded like the brains of the outfit.
“If Zhang was working for them, why snatch Kate from him?” Byron said.
“There were problems between them and Zhang,” Harry translated Jie’s reply.
The fear whoever had snatched Kate from Zhang might have already killed her drained Adam. Jie’s scruffy car looked out of place in the car park. Every other vehicle was either a luxury German car or a boxy SUV, and none more than a year or two old. Jie got out and lit a cigarette, having forgone smoking on the way over so the others could enjoy the air con. Adam waited for him.
“Remember, you are senior police,” Jie said as they headed for the entrance.
Harry had explained how Jie wanted him to behave so the concierge wouldn’t question their credentials. Despite his relative youth, Adam must behave as the senior officer. Jie opened the door for him, showing the deference due someone so senior. Adam drew on his memory of a Vice Admiral who’d given his course a talk on naval protocol at Lympstone.
Jie swaggered to the desk and introduced them, bowing toward Adam as he spoke in rapid Mandarin. The man behind the desk, obviously impressed by what Jie said, came to attention and snatched up a phone. His expression grew perplexed, then embarrassed, before he replaced the handset and addressed Adam. After a moment’s panic, Adam scowled and Jie jumped in with a stream of Mandarin. The man, looking alarmed, went to a door at the back of reception.
“No answer but they not go out,” Jie whispered.
The concierge returned, carrying a bunch of keys with coloured plastic tags on them and led them to the lift. They travelled up in silence, Adam maintaining a foreboding expression to discourage being addressed. The lift stopped and opened into an opulent, double-height entrance hall. A pair of antique stone creatures flanked ornate double doors straight ahead. The porter gestured to the entrance. Jie said something which sounded like an instruction and marched to the doors. He knocked hard and waited before pushing them open, remembering to step aside to let Adam go ahead. The deep pile carpet continued into the room beyond.
The smell hit Adam first. He stopped. Sunlight poured in through two glass walls and he shielded his eyes. Two mounds lay at the far end of the room and he’d seen enough dead bodies to recognise what they were. He approached, seeing the feet first, small with painted nails. The belief they were Kate’s made his stomach drop. Then he noticed the black hair.
“Keep him out of here,” Adam said, but Jie had already closed the door.
“Fang Jiao,” Jie said, pointing to the woman.
The unnatural angle and bruising on her neck told how she’d died. The man, his lower face covered in blood from a broken nose, had suffered a similar injury.
“Is that…?” Adam forgot the man’s name.
“Quan Liang,” Jie said. “We have to call police. You go.”
A cry came from the doorway. The porter stared at them, eyes wide.
Gripped by panic, Kate stood paralysed at the door. Could she escape when they opened it? They wouldn’t be expecting her. But she realised the futility, even if she got past the first one, the other would get her. She’d have to attack whoever came through and hope he had a gun she could use on the other. She suppressed the terror making her insides flutter, and scrabbled around for a weapon. The bolts on the door scraped open. She clenched her fists. Adrenaline surged through her.
“Shit!” the man with the accent called out.
“What?” This voice was so loud it made her jump.
“Police answered.”
“You sure.” The voice faded as he moved away from the door. “I told you, you’ve been ringing the wrong number.”
A phone chirruped and after a few rings stopped. Kate pressed her ear against the door, wishing she knew what was happening.
After a silence, the accented voice said, “That was police.”
“Shit! What’s happened? Do you think the police have arrested—?”
“How the hell I know?” He shouted a phrase in a strange language but it didn’t need translating. “I find out.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I go to their place.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“What about woman?”
“She can’t get out and if she makes a racket nobody will hear her.”
“You check before we go.”
Filled with panic, Kate rushed back to where they’d dumped her, banging into the door jamb and hoping she was going in the right direction. Her right foot hit the mattress, and she threw herself onto it as the outer door opened. The jolt when she landed sparked a flash of pain through her skull but she bit her lip. Light flooded the room, and she shut her eyes. Footsteps approached. Her heart raced even faster. A hand touched her neck, and she almost cried out. The stench of her own vomit wafted from the mattress as fingers searched for her carotid artery. What would they make of her racing pulse? She tried to remember her first aid training. Adam would know, but where was he? Looking for her, she hoped.
The hand moved away, lingering against her breast before withdrawing. Footsteps receded, and she opened one eye. Two figures stood at the door and one turned. She registered gloves and masks before the light died. The outer door slammed, followed by the sounds of bolts. She rubbed at the places he’d touched her, listening. At last, certain they’d gone, she exhaled and sat up. The fact they wore masks eased her anxiety. If they’d decided to kill her, they wouldn’t be bothering.
She had to escape before they returned. She got up and shuffled toward the doorway. Now her guards were gone, she risked putting on the light. Once her eyes adjusted, she scanned the room. It was bigger than she’d thought, about seven metres by six. Apart from the mattress, it contained a row of open metal cabinets against one wall.
She edged into the small anteroom at the entrance and tried the door. It felt solid. She took a step back, and kicked it. Her knee nearly gave way and a sharp pain pierced her head, almost making her pass out. She leaned against the wall until the room stopped spinning. Back in the main room, her gaze drifted to the cabinets. Boxes lay on the shelves. She looked inside them, getting more disheartened when each revealed its contents to be dusty papers. She banged the side of the last cabinet in frustration and a few inches of its metal shutter unfurled.
Christina had a similar cupboard in her office. The shutter had jammed and Kate had been in the office when the engineer removed the mechanism. The metal slats rolled round a solid bar: a perfect weapon. She needed to remove the mechanism. She emptied a shelf, removed it, then inserted one side into the channel running down the inside front of the cabinet. The shelf bowed, but the metal guide bent. She put aside the shelf and pulled the end of the shutter out of the distorted guide, tugging until it came free. Sweat flowed down her neck and blood dripped from a cut on her thumb.
She sucked the wound, getting her breath back, then, grabbing the slats, she pulled. With creaks of protest, the shutter unrolled until it jerked to a stop and she dropped it. The clash when it struck the floor made her cringe. She froze. Were those sounds from outside the door? Had they returned? She killed the light and stood at the door listening, her pulse whooshing in her ears. After several minutes, she decided she’d imagined it and turned the light back on. Nobody came, and she returned to her task.
Five minutes later, she’d freed the bar. Out of breath, she studied her hands. Blood from skinned knuckles joined more from the cut on her thumb and her nails looked ragged, but at least she had a weapon. She took it to the entrance, turned the light off and waited.
