The Traitor's Gold, page 23
Time passed. Kobayashi wanted to check outside the window, but couldn’t be bothered to move. Finally, he heard the door behind him rattle and Ito reappeared. The guy had his arms full of noodles and a funny look on his face. Kobayashi didn’t even speak to him, just held his arms out for the noodles. They were laid out before him, chopsticks handed over, and then he dug in, not caring that the boxes leaked on Ito’s furniture or that the thick liquid dribbled down his chin onto Ito’s floor.
The night was hell for Kobayashi. He had to sleep in the peasant’s bed and there were no clean sheets. Several times he heard Ito shuffling about, once on his phone. Kobayashi was left wondering about his own business empire, the various deals he had going. Would they survive a day or two of inattention? It wasn’t an ideal situation – the men he dealt with were fast-acting and ruthless. Kobayashi might be able to broker an extra few days, though. He was good for it.
Morning came and went. Kobayashi slouched and complained. This was not the luxury he was used to. Ito was a waster. He disappeared at breakfast, came back with rice porridge, grilled fish and several side dishes. Not a terrible start to the day, Kobayashi decided, but he still turned his nose up at Ito’s efforts.
Kobayashi had never been so bored. His thoughts turned to his wife. She wasn’t often the first thing he thought of, nor the tenth or the twelfth. She was part of his life, sure, but she didn’t figure much in his plans. He wondered if she’d survived.
He shrugged and thought about something else.
Ito came and went. Often, he brought snacks, which kept Kobayashi quietly comforted. The afternoon passed in a kind of peace. It occurred to Kobayashi that he’d soon have spent twenty-four hours in the hovel and, despite everything, was doing well. He was pleased with himself. He found the TV remote in the late afternoon, ignored the sticky keys and tried to find something suitable to watch. Ito only had a few channels, nothing like Kobayashi’s satellite setup, and he soon grew bored, launching the plastic remote at a nearby wall and breaking it, leaving a dent in the plaster. That, at least, was satisfying.
And in the early evening, Ito brought Kobayashi something extra special.
The flat’s door opened. Kobayashi heard it, didn’t turn around, just growled at the idiot to bring him some food and another crate of beer. There were footsteps…several of them.
Kobayashi tried to turn. He couldn’t. A figure came around the sofa from the left, another from the right. Kobayashi got a better look at them. His mouth fell open, his blood froze.
How…?
More figures appeared. Eight of them in total, carrying handguns and wearing black combat gear. Kobayashi swivelled left and right as best he could but found that, even if he wanted to get up, his legs were just too weak and shaky to allow it.
The men filled the room. Ito entered last, a smirk on his face and a wad of cash in his hands.
‘I’ll leave you alone,’ he said, backed out and shut the door.
That left Kobayashi with the eight black-clad men, staring up at their angry faces, casting glances at their weapons, their guns and their wicked military knives.
‘Please,’ he said immediately. ‘I can help you.’
A man stepped forward. He was tall, blocky, bald, a powerful-looking figure. ‘I am Captain Miura of the Special Exercise Division,’ he said, prompting Kobayashi to wonder why the hell he’d just identified himself.
‘We have questions for you,’ the man said.
‘How…how did you find me?’ Kobayashi’s asked, though he already knew the answer. His mouth was as dry as if he’d just licked dusty gravel.
‘Your friend, Ito. He has connections. You should pay more attention to your men. He knew a man who knew a man who knew how to contact the Shadow Kings through the Dark Web. From there, it is merely a matter of phone calls.’
Kobayashi wanted to spit, but didn’t dare. It was all he could do not to curl up into a ball. The men stood menacingly all around him.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘The name and location of the man who brought you the casino coins.’
Kobayashi swallowed heavily. That was a pretty succinct and simple question. Miura clearly wasted no time. Again, he berated himself. How could Ito have betrayed him this way? One of his own men? A man he’d called upon in a time of need, blessed his home with his presence. Kobayashi vowed that once he was out of this, Ito would meet a violent and sticky end.
‘It was seven years ago,’ Kobayashi said. ‘I do not know where he will be now.’
‘Name?’
‘He was an American. There were three of them. The leader was named Phoenix Basso.’
Miura drew the knife from its sheath with the faint whisper of leather and stepped forward. ‘Tell me everything he said to you.’
The man’s voice, so close, was worse than any nightmare.
Chapter 36
Mason threw his crowbar down with a heavy sigh. It made a clunk and a rattle that drew the attention of several tourists. Roxy just smiled at them and waved. The rest of the team was gathered around the top of a set of narrow steps outside the eighth and final cave.
‘Nothing,’ Mason said in disgust. ‘We’ve made three passes now and I’m pretty sure we’re drawing attention. There is nothing here.’
A warm wind flicked and grazed its way across the towering façade of the Mogao Caves, carrying with it flecks of sand. People pressed past them to left and right. There were tourists and there were locals, all chattering to each other. Mason believed they’d stayed in one area, searching, for about as long as they could.
‘There’s nothing here,’ he reiterated.
‘Then we’re done,’ Quaid said, sounding slightly pleased.
‘No.’ Luciane spoke up. ‘It can’t end here. Not like this. We’re so close.’
Mason shrugged. ‘To what? All we know is that the three Americans told Kobayashi this was the location. One of the fourteenth-century caves, they said. Well, we’re here, and there’s a fat lot of nothing.’
It felt like an utter failure, especially after coming so far. Mason didn’t want to move away from the general area of the fourteenth-century caves; it was disappointing to do so. This was all a massive let-down. He looked at the others, spread his arms.
‘We can’t keep on searching the same places.’
‘Maybe we missed something,’ Luciane said urgently.
Sally put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. ‘Honestly,’ she said. ‘I don’t think so. I personally went over every inch of those caves. There’s nothing. We’re searching in the wrong place.’
Mason knew that Sally often liked to scrutinise what he and his colleagues had already gone over. It was her way of being thorough, proving to herself that she was on the right track.
The team made their way down the steps and back through the edifice until they were standing in the vast space outside, staring up at the big arches of the tiered tower that formed the main entrance. They paced down the concrete steps and formed up near a statue, hiding their faces as the wind skimmed past them.
‘We searched every inch of those caves,’ Quaid said. ‘Three times. Maybe Kobayashi lied to us.’
Mason nodded. It was possible. It was also possible that the American treasure hunters had lied to Kobayashi to keep their secret.
‘We should leave this place.’ Sally spoke up suddenly. ‘It’s doing us no good standing here.’
‘We could always revisit the caves,’ Luciane said hopefully. ‘Maybe just two or three of us. Just to be certain.’
Mason had already seen the staff sending looks their way. Even now, as they stood outside the grand entrance, a couple of employees were monitoring them.
‘We’ve definitely outstayed our welcome, if not our visa,’ he said. ‘Let’s talk about this back at the hotel.’
They walked away, grabbed a large taxi, piled in and drove away. They entered the hotel’s lobby, found some plush seating and ordered coffees and teas all round. Mason ordered toast and jam, and then so did Roxy, copying him. Soon, they were all sitting in the air-conditioned comfort, the bones of the mission laid out before them.
‘Dead end,’ Hassell said. ‘That’s what we call it.’
‘We don’t deserve to hit a dead end,’ Sally said. ‘Not with all the effort we’ve put in.’
Hassell shrugged as if to say, ‘That’s life.’ Mason considered the problem. The Mogao Caves were clearly not the location of the ancient casino and, when he thought about it, it made total sense.
‘I have to say,’ he said, ‘that the caves are well documented. If there had been an ancient casino attached to one of them, surely they’d have found it by now.’
Sally nodded. ‘I didn’t want to think that way before,’ she said. ‘Not with the search in front of us. I was excited, carried away. But you’re probably right. I wanted to think there was some way Basso had concealed the entrance, some fancy way. It’s not impossible. But my guess is, he was lying.’
‘And that makes sense too,’ Roxy said, chomping on her toast. ‘Because even Kobayashi said Basso didn’t deal solely with him. He dealt with several collectors in Japan and probably made a fortune.’
Mason nodded. ‘Of course he did. You wouldn’t limit yourself to just one collector. This Phoenix Basso guy and his two associates would have used a few in Japan.’
‘Speaking of Phoenix Basso,’ Sally said. ‘He is the bottom line here. The crux of it all. Can we track him down?’
Mason stared at her. ‘We’re good,’ he said. ‘But he was here seven years ago. We’re not that good.’
‘But only he and his two associates know exactly where the casino is,’ Sally said.
‘It’s been seven years,’ Roxy said.
‘But we can try,’ Sally said.
‘I have my contacts,’ Quaid said helpfully. ‘But I don’t know anyone on the inside of an agency. For example, MI5 or the FBI. They’re the kind of people who could track Basso down. And do we have any more information on him?’
‘What more information do you need?’ Luciane said in desperation. ‘He’s a treasure hunter.’
Mason could see how the failure had affected her. She’d been tracking this casino for months, tracing the various parties involved, had even been kidnapped over it. The woman was fully invested and would accept nothing other than success.
‘He’s American,’ Sally said with little hope in her voice. ‘Do we know any Americans who can help?’
Mason turned to Roxy.
‘Hey, yeah,’ she said sarcastically. ‘We Americans all know each other real well. Let me grab his number.’
‘I think she meant your former employer,’ Mason said.
Roxy’s face fell. ‘I will never contact them again as long as I live,’ she said shortly.
Mason had expected as much from the feisty American. Roxy was trying to escape her past, not reconnect with it.
‘There may be another way.’ Luciane sat forward, placed her cup of tea on the table and bit her lip. ‘As you know, I’m a historian, a treasure hunter myself. I know an awful lot of people in the so-called game. I’ve been doing this for years, ever since I quit the Garda.’
Quaid eyed her. ‘What are you saying?’
‘That I know the same people Basso knows,’ she went on in her breathy voice. ‘I’ve been at this for more than a decade. The key players don’t change much. You get a few new players every now and again, but the beat remains the same, if you know what I mean.’
Mason thought for a moment before saying, ‘You know the same people Basso knows?’
‘Yeah, that’s what I said.’
‘So you knew Kobayashi?’ Quaid asked.
‘Barely,’ Luciane said.
‘Why haven’t you mentioned it earlier?’
‘I knew him by reputation as a collector only. He’s well known in the community. A connoisseur. Everyone knows of him, like me. A man who covets certain treasures that only he can own. You know…the one-offs, the Ming vases, Fabergé eggs and lost paintings that have no pairing, no equal. That’s Kobayashi, which is probably how Basso managed to sell him the casino coins.’
‘Because they were so rare,’ Sally said.
‘Exactly. Yes, Kobayashi knew others would get a slice of the pie, but the thought of a Chinese casino centuries old, lost in the Gobi Desert, will have appealed to him. We know Kobayashi wasn’t the only recipient.’ Luciane fell silent, thinking.
‘You’d have thought he’d have made an effort to find the casino,’ Mason said.
‘You’ve seen him. He’s as lazy as they come. The whole idea would have probably overwhelmed him and, of course, he has a criminal empire to run.’
Mason chewed his toast. ‘You’re trying to track a treasure hunter from seven years ago by determining which collectors he’d have visited,’ he said dubiously. ‘It’s a stretch.’
‘But that’s where you’re wrong,’ Luciane said excitedly. ‘As you might imagine, there aren’t that many collectors around the world. Give me some time to check my notes and I’ll see if there are any close by.’
Luciane worked for some time, using Sally’s laptop to check her own uploaded notes, the material she’d been working on for months. She checked through reams of it, it seemed, constantly scrolling. She sighed and sat back and shook her head.
‘Any luck?’ Quaid asked.
She gave him a hard look and went back to work. After some time had passed she sat forward and raised her eyebrows. ‘Of course,’ she said.
‘Found something?’ Mason asked.
‘I should have known. Like I said, there aren’t that many collectors to choose from, but I didn’t realise this man lived so close. In fact, he lives in Kyoto.’
‘Are you saying that you know this man?’ Quaid asked.
Luciane took a deep breath. ‘Of course not. But we have had correspondence,’ she said. ‘He knows my name, my email, my work ethic. When you talk to these guys, ask for their help, you tend to establish a few protocols.’
‘I can understand that,’ Hassell said. ‘They are cagey, vigilant, and would jealously guard their secrets.’
Luciane nodded. ‘They’re all that, and more. But the man I’m talking about established a few protocols early on. He wanted to converse with me, but on his terms. You see…even more than most, he’s a recluse. This man is definitely what you call off the grid.’
‘Yet you know where he lives?’ Mason asked.
‘I don’t know exactly where. He mentioned his home in Kyoto a few times, that’s all.’
‘And you think this man would have had dealings with Basso?’
‘I’m sure of it. This man – the name he goes by is Freddie, by the way – has been around longer than anyone. Longer than me. He’s a serious collector and well known in the community. Perhaps infamous. But he’s also reclusive, suspicious of everyone, a paranoid man. He’s a gambler. He’s tried to make bets with me a hundred times in his emails. I guarantee you Basso visited him with some coins.’
‘You think he may have more information relating to this Basso?’ Hassell asked.
‘What can we lose by asking?’ Luciane said. ‘And Freddie is a level-headed guy, not a Kobayashi who loves to scare people off. I think Basso would have conversed with him. And it gets us past the dead end we’re currently experiencing.’
‘Email him,’ Sally said. ‘It can’t hurt.’
‘Ask for a meeting,’ Mason said.
‘I really don’t think he’ll agree to that.’
‘Do it anyway,’ Mason said. ‘Stress the importance, the consequences. Tell him it’s about finding an ancient Chinese casino before the Shadow Kings shut access down to everyone else in the world and this archaeological breakthrough is lost for ever. Relics sold on the black market. Explain to him how they’ve sent a fucking hit team to kill everyone involved, and how we’re trying to protect them. The danger he’s in. How we can help. Get us that face to face.’
Luciane nodded as she accepted Sally’s laptop, opened it up and entered her email address. ‘I’ll do my best.’
Chapter 37
The team flew back to Japan the next day.
The Shinkansen, known in the West as the bullet train, is a vast network of high-speed railway lines which has been operating for over fifty years. Mason and his team settled back in the plush, white seats for a ninety-minute trip to Kyoto, along with a train full of passengers. The train pulled in to the station in Osaka right on time and left exactly sixty seconds later. It had taken them eleven hours to fly back from Dunhuang, and when they landed in Osaka it was mid-morning. They had then booked immediately onto the bullet train and made their way to the correct station.
Mason was feeling the long travel times and lack of sleep and was determined to grab ninety minutes aboard the bullet train. It was clean, spacious and comfortable. He stretched out, closed his eyes and drifted off for a while.
He woke a little refreshed sixty minutes later to find Roxy staring at him.
‘You getting too old for this shit, Joe?’
He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I’m thirty-five, recently actually. And that reminds me, I don’t recall getting a present from you.’
‘Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?’
Mason shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘You think this is all a wild goose chase?’ Roxy asked more softly.
Mason looked around, saw the others mostly sleeping. ‘I don’t think it can hurt. And it’s the only lead we have. Luciane seems pretty sure.’
Roxy nodded. Despite all the travel and the lack of sleep, Mason thought she looked fresher today, with less weight on her shoulders. ‘You seem better,’ he said.
‘I feel better. I almost feel as though I’m through the worst of it. That I can move forward, maybe take the next step.’
