Jade Island (24 page)

“Yes. The jade was extraordinary—a translucent, deep green with cloud markings over the most important organs of the body. A piece of art as well as a summation of Chinese beliefs in life, death, and the hereafter.”

“You’re certain that Farmer has the same suit that Wen did?” Kyle pressed.

She hesitated, then accepted what she knew to be true. “Yes.”

“And that it’s true jade?” Kyle asked.

“As certain as I can be without a chemical analysis. It felt right. Looked right. Took the right polish. There was none of the wear at the corners you would expect from softer stone. And Wen’s attitude toward the suit was reverent. He had a modern preference for nephrite over other kinds of ‘jade.’”

“Why would Wen sell Farmer that suit?” Kyle asked.

“Money,” Archer said succinctly. “Millions.”

“Not good enough,” Kyle said. “Wen is a collector. Parting with that suit would be like selling his soul.”

Archer looked at Lianne.

“He’s right,” she said simply. “Of course, if the family of Tang was desperate…” Then she sighed and shook her head. “No. Wen would have used his entire jade collection as collateral on a loan before he would sell any of it, much less the jade shroud.”

“Maybe he did take out a loan,” Archer said. “Maybe he defaulted and the bank sold off the collateral.”

Kyle got up and paced across the kitchen to the stove. Lianne watched him go from sunlight to shadow and back to sunlight again, and couldn’t decide which was more beautiful to her—the golden-green blaze of his eyes in the darkness or the shimmering gold of his hair in the light. But in light or dark, what drew her was his intelligence, his humor, the promise of strength in his easy stride.

Too bad all he wanted from her was information and sex, Lianne thought bitterly. In that order. Yet, to be fair, he gave as good as he got. And he
had
saved her life.

“Lianne?” Archer said. “What do you think about the loan scenario?”

She blinked and forced herself to look away from Kyle. “Unlikely.”

“Why?”

“It would be impossible to keep such a loan quiet. First, the collection would have to be appraised. That alone would start a furor in the jade world. Whoever appraised the pieces would have friends, associates, lovers, rivals. No matter what vows of silence were sworn to, word would get out simply because the Tang jades are unparalleled. It would be like…” She hesitated, trying to think of an analogy Archer would understand. “Like De Beers getting the contents of their London diamond vaults appraised for a loan.”

Archer grunted. “That would set off shock waves.”

Kyle looked up from measuring coffee. “Would anyone in the Tang family have a reason to set Farmer up for a fall?”

“I don’t understand,” Lianne said.

Archer did. He gave Kyle an approving look. The boy definitely was
not
thinking with his dick.

“Farmer is getting into bed with SunCo,” Kyle said. “What does that do to the Tangs?”

“Nothing good,” Lianne said, frowning. “The Suns have much better mainland access than the Tangs. Three of the Suns have married ’red princesses.’ Sun Sen, the granddaughter of the Sun patriarch, is engaged to Deng
Qiang, a grandnephew of the dead leader and one of the most powerful men in China today.”

“The new aristocracy,” Kyle said, disgusted. “The ultra-privileged children and grandchildren of Mao’s cohort intermarrying with the most successful criminal entrepreneurs of the twenty-first century.”

“In other words,” Archer said, “the Tangs have ample reason to want to undermine the Suns’ success.”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with Farmer and the jade shroud?” Lianne asked.

“Remember the old saying, ‘Grasp the stinging nettle firmly’?” Kyle said, coming back to the table.

She nodded.

“Well,” he continued, “making a fist around the stingers is one way of doing it. Very direct. Very Western.” He slid into the breakfast nook and sat close to her again. Hip to thigh. “Like me.”

Lianne smiled in spite of herself.

“Better yet,” Kyle said, smiling slowly at her in return, “you get someone else to grab the nettle for you. Then it doesn’t matter how the damn thing is grasped. Nothing’s stinging
you
.”

“Very indirect. Very Eastern,” Lianne said. “Quite clever, actually.”

“Yeah, it’s great…unless you’re the guy stuck with a double handful of nettles.”

She looked at her own hands, wrapped around the empty coffee mug as though it was some kind of lifeline. Slowly she forced herself to let go of it. Then she stared into the dregs as if she could read her future in it.

Archer started to speak, but stopped at a look from Kyle.

“You’re saying that I was deliberately set up by the Tang family for the purpose of making Dick Farmer or SunCo lose face?” Lianne asked.

“I’m wondering if it’s possible,” Archer said.

“Why?” she asked starkly.

“I’m looking for a convincing motive for someone else to steal those jades.”

Kyle’s eyes narrowed. He studied his oldest brother as though he had never seen him before.

“Why?” Lianne asked again, surprised.

“Because he finally woke up and smelled the coffee,” Kyle said. “He believes you didn’t do it.”

She stared at Kyle, then at Archer.

“Right,” Archer said. “But believing isn’t proving. We need something that will convince the Feds. That will let both her and us off the government hook.”

“Why are you on the hook in the first place?” Lianne asked.

“It’s a long story about Russian czars and amber,” Kyle said. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, our problem is finding a convincing suspect whose name isn’t Lianne Blakely.”

“There’s a whole world out there,” she retorted.

“We only want the ones who have motive, means, and opportunity,” Kyle said.

“Always a good starting point,” Archer said. “At the moment, the Feds know that Lianne had the means and opportunity to rifle the Tang vault.”

“But no motive,” she said.

“Wrong, sweetheart,” Kyle said. “Revenge.”

Her eyes widened. Then her expression closed down, revealing nothing except wary, whiskey-colored eyes watching him. “I see. Bastard daughter gets even with the legitimate Tangs by stealing them blind. Is that how the scenario goes?”

“Yes. But since you didn’t do it, we need to look at everyone else who has access to the Tang vault.

“Wen, Joe, Daniel, me.”

“That’s it?” Archer asked. “No wives or girlfriends, no household staff, no lock maintenance people or pest inspectors or electricians or household security?”

Lianne shook her head. “No one. You have to understand; by American standards, the Tang family is paranoid
about protecting itself and its wealth. By Chinese standards, the Tangs are simply prudent. Deeply secretive.”

“What kind of security system does the vault have?” Kyle asked.

“The locks are old. Very solid, mind you. Just not high-tech. They’re the kind you would find in late-nineteenth-century banks.”

“Damn,” Kyle said. “Tumblers and dials and no electricity. Sounds like your meat, Archer.”

“Locks like that get cranky without maintenance. Who keeps them oiled?” Archer asked.

“Wen used to,” Lianne said. “I assume he taught Joe, but Joe is rarely in Vancouver, so Daniel has been doing the maintenance.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wen told Daniel when I mentioned that one of the locks was getting sticky.”

“Daniel isn’t real fond of you, is he?” Kyle asked quietly.

She lifted her chin and didn’t answer.

Kyle brushed the back of his hand down her cheek in a gentle caress. “I know you don’t want to point any fingers at your half brother, but who else is there? He had to be the one who told Wen about the missing jades.”

Lianne fought the dry, hot burning behind her eyes. She didn’t like to think of anyone setting her up. Thinking of Daniel doing it, Daniel with her father’s eyes and smile…Her stomach rolled.

It was such an intimate betrayal.

“What about Wen himself?” Archer said. “Would he do it?”

“He’s blind,” Kyle said without looking away from Lianne. “He’s frail. I’ll bet he can’t even get into the vault without help, much less sort through the jade. Can he, sweetheart?”

She shook her head and tried not to lash out at the logic box that was being so carefully built for her. And the cage that had already been built.

Someone had stolen the jades and made certain that she took the blame.

“What about Joe?” Archer asked.

“He doesn’t know the difference between nephrite and soapstone,” Lianne said, her voice low. “Whoever did this had to know which pieces to steal, which to ignore, and how to find substitutes. Even if Joe had the knowledge, why would he do it? It’s his own inheritance, his own personal wealth, the pride and soul of the Tangs. The Tang Consortium is held by the whole family. The jade vaults have been passed down to the First Son’s First Son since the first piece was collected.”

“Which leaves Daniel,” Kyle said gently, relentlessly. “The third—or is it fourth?—son of Johnny, who is the third son of Wen Zhi Tang. Danny boy is a long way from inheriting the keys to the jade kingdom, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” she whispered unhappily.

“How long has he had the combination to the vault?” Archer asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Ten years? Five? Two?”

As though cold, Lianne pulled the silk lapels of her robe closer. “I…a year. Maybe less. Whenever Wen couldn’t see or feel the combination anymore and Joe wasn’t there to open the vault for him.”

“In other words,” Archer said, “Daniel has had plenty of time to cream the jades.”

“Yes. But…”

“But what?” Kyle asked.

“Why would he hate me enough to set me up? I haven’t done anything to deserve that.”

“Wrong assumption,” Archer said. “Hatred might have nothing to do with it. Deserving sure as hell doesn’t. Pragmatism would explain choosing you.”

She looked at Kyle as though asking him to counter his brother’s relentless logic.

“It’s a lot easier for Daniel to pin a stinking rose on Johnny’s illegitimate daughter than on Wen’s Number One
Son,” Kyle said quietly. “Isn’t it, sweetheart? There’s no one to protect you, no patriarch to rise up in righteous fury if you’re threatened. You’ve lived your whole life out on the end of a Tang limb. Now someone’s sawing it off right next to the trunk.”

Lianne’s chin came up a notch. She didn’t like Kyle’s logic, but it made a horrible kind of sense. There was only one thing wrong with it.

“Daniel doesn’t have the combination to the inner vault,” she said. “The one that held the jade shroud.”

“Can you prove that?” Kyle said instantly.

“No.”

“Can Daniel prove that he didn’t know the combination?” Archer asked.

“How do you prove a negative?” Lianne retorted with bitter satisfaction, for she was in the same position—trying to prove that she had
not
stolen any jades.

“You can’t,” Kyle said. Then he smiled as coldly as Archer ever had and turned to his older brother. “We don’t have much, but it might be enough to shake something loose. Time to call Uncle?”

Archer’s eyelids lowered until his eyes were no more than glittering, steel-colored slits. Then he got up and went to the phone.

D
isplayed by a television screen that was no thicker than a debit card and no smaller than a chair, three heads spoke in measured terms about the volatile international situation. Sitting in his circular work area, Dick Farmer watched PBS with part of his attention and scanned several computer screens with the rest.

“What effect do you think this will have on international monetary markets in the near, semi-near, and long term?” asked the host, Helen Coffmann, a woman of average looks, manly tweed jacket, and impressive cheekbones.

“In the short run, it’s hard to say with total assurance,” Ted Chung, the resident Asian specialist said. “A lot will depend on the reaction of overseas lenders and China’s non-American trading partners. If trade barriers go back up, there is little chance of an economically painless resolution. The ripple effect will be very costly, especially in China.”

“Then it’s to China’s best interest to find some means of defusing the situation,” Helen said.

“Economically speaking, yes. But we must remember that China is and always has been ruled by symbols. It is very difficult for Westerners to understand, yet I have no doubt that China would sooner invite economic turmoil than be seen as bowing to America’s will, much less to Taiwan’s.”

“Lev, what do you think?” Helen asked, turning toward the other man.

“It will be a disaster,” Lev Kline, the guest economist, said bluntly. “China and the United States are at a crucial juncture in trade talks. Three days ago, we were at the point of agreeing on allotments of automobiles in exchange for clothing imports, among many other items, plus an agreement to ensure that Chinese banks follow international…”

Farmer switched all of his attention to the computer screens. The talking heads of public television knew less about the trade situation than he did. For one thing, they hadn’t even mentioned China’s brisk international arms trade. But even setting that aside, the brutal, overriding truth was that China’s economy was based on exports of everything from guns to teething rings. Unless China climbed down off its ridiculous high horse, trade barriers would go up and the flood of Chinese exports to America’s rich markets would squeeze down to a trickle.

When that happened, international bank loans made to China would be in jeopardy of default, because there would be no export profits to make payments on the loans. The West would lose some profit margin if China defaulted. China would lose a hell of a lot more.

Defaulting on international loans would set off a chain of consequences. Foremost among them would be China printing more money to cover its debts, money that had no true value to back it up. Inflation would quickly follow. Unless good money came in from somewhere else—not likely, if China was defaulting on international loans—inflation would get out of hand until Chinese money wasn’t worth the match to burn it.

People would riot in the streets because a week’s wages couldn’t buy a cup of rice. Severe repression would be the order of the day. If that didn’t get the job done, there would be a military coup, order would be restored, and a new state would be reborn within the burned-out shell of the old.

It had happened before. It would happen again. It was the way of the world.

Since Farmer didn’t have anything on mainland China worth protecting, he didn’t care about the value of Chinese currency or the cost of a bowl of rice. If he had been established in China, as he hoped to be in a decade, he would have fought with every bit of leverage and lies at his command to defuse the growing crisis, as China’s other trading partners were no doubt doing, including the United States.

Farmer wasn’t one of those partners. About all he had at risk was an overpriced jade suit. Whatever happened in China wouldn’t particularly affect his lucrative South American markets, or his Russian ones. But in eight years—sixteen at most—those markets would be saturated.

He needed another low-tech, high-density population to sell electronics to, a country where the industrial revolution had taken place, but not the computer revolution. Africa, India, and China were the obvious choices. Africa didn’t have the money to boot up for the twenty-first century. Even if Africa could get the loans, its future population density was problematic. Too many African states had denied or ignored AIDS for too long.

India had the population, and the money, to buy computers, but Farmer hadn’t been strong enough to lock up that market when it emerged. Farmer Enterprises was struggling along on a 14.4 percent market share in India. It was bigger than anyone else’s, but not nearly big enough to overpower the shifting coalition of international businesses that kept undercutting his prices.

China beckoned like a sweet, unspoiled dream. In China, Farmer’s challenge had been to find a good, competitive edge over the rest of the international business wolves. He had tried the usual bribes, the usual kickbacks, and had got the usual results. Good, but not good enough.

To his surprise, the Jade Emperor’s burial suit was becoming the very edge he had been searching for. All that remained was for China to bow to the inevitable and open
up negotiations with him. If the government chose to be stiff-necked about it, Farmer would shift priorities and concentrate on how he could profit in China’s coming economic ruin. Beginning now.

The day that had started before dawn had just become longer.

“Coffee, Mary Margaret. Black and strong.”

“Cindi, you have the local angle on this crisis,” the news anchor said.

Reluctantly Lianne turned away from Susa’s paintings and faced the television set. Its screen was big enough for the travelogues that Susa enjoyed, but not big enough to dominate the airy room.

“Thanks, Carl.” Wearing a tasteful burgundy suit, cream silk blouse, motionless hair, and a colorful scarf that lifted in the wind, Cindi turned toward the camera. Thanks to the deceptive miracle of digital TV, she appeared to be standing on I-5 overlooking the vast Boeing/McDonnell Douglas complex. “The atmosphere is tense here today at the Boeing plant. Workers who had been certain of employment from Chinese aircraft contracts are now grim, fearing layoffs or worse. Unless the trade situation is resolved, these men and women will be out of work before their kids are out of school for the summer. Back to you, Carl.”

“Thanks, Cindi. Next, an update on the protest over the Nude Taco, the cafe that brought see-through dining to our Northwest cuisine.”

Lianne punched a button on the remote, shutting off the TV. No matter how edgy she was, waiting to open her own negotiations with the U.S. government, there were some things she wouldn’t waste time on. Afternoon “news” was one of them.

“No nude tacos?” Kyle asked from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder. Kyle was across the room, leaning against the doorway, watching her with eyes that measured and desired.

“I’m into nude hot dogs,” she said.

“You’re in luck. I’ve got this—”

The front door opened. The teasing expression vanished from Kyle’s face as a young, startlingly beautiful Chinese woman preceded Archer into the room.

Kyle had seen the woman before, at the Tang’s post-auction party. She had been wearing less clothes and more hair then. Not that the tailored charcoal suit and red silk blouse made her look like a dog. Far from it.

With narrowed eyes, Lianne measured the young woman, wondering at the transformation from party bimbo to sleek, self-confident business person.

“Good behavior, boys and girls,” Kyle said. “I do believe Uncle has just arrived.”

The woman gave Kyle a look from glorious, polished jet eyes. “Bingo. This would have been a whole lot easier if you had used the telephone number I put in your pocket.”

“My plate was full,” he said dryly.

“April Joy, meet Lianne Blakely and my brother Kyle,” Archer said.

“We’ve met,” April said.

“April Joy?” Kyle’s mouth turned up at one corner. “The name fit you better when you were wearing your hair down past the crack in your ass, and not much else.”

Smiling, April walked closer to Kyle, giving that extra little swing and jiggle of hips and breasts that was guaranteed to bring a man’s heart rate up. “How’s your plate now, handsome?”

“Knock it off,” Archer said impatiently to April before Kyle could answer. “You tried that approach already on him. It didn’t work.”

“Should I try it on you?” April asked, turning to Archer.

He smiled slowly, thinly. “Depends on how much time you have to waste.”

“Forget it. I’ve read your file. You keep your cock in your pants like a regular priest.” April looked at Lianne
and spoke in rapid Cantonese. “Do not trust these men, sister. They will use you and forget you.”

“Number Four Donovan Son saved my life,” Lianne said in the same language. “It is his to do with as he pleases.”

“You are American, not Chinese.”

“Not in this.”

“Shit,” April said in heartfelt English. She turned to the men. “Give me a reason I shouldn’t have the three of you locked up for obstructing a federal investigation.”

“This is America, not China,” Kyle said. “You need evidence to lock people up.”

“Wrong,” April said. “All you need is a pliant federal judge.”

“If you had one that pliant, you wouldn’t be here,” Archer pointed out. “Any more gambits you’re supposed to try before we get down to business?”

“Are you going to offer me coffee or are you going to be a prick?” she asked Archer.

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

“You’re going to be a prick. This is my lucky day all the way to the wall.” April looked at Lianne again. “Wash the stardust and sex out of your eyes and think. The government can help you more than the Donovans. We’re the ones who put that triad assassin on a plane and sent him back to China.”

“The government locked me up,” Lianne said. “The Donovans set me free.”

“You could have walked anytime you decided to roll over on your Chinese connection. That was all we wanted.”

“That was the problem. I didn’t have a ‘Chinese connection.’ I still don’t.”

“Bullshit. You couldn’t have gotten something like that jade shroud out of China without mainland contacts. Lots of them. We want them. Then we can confiscate the damned thing under the Cultural Antiquities Act, send it
back where it belongs, and get on with the much more important business of Westernizing China.”

“Good luck,” Kyle muttered.

“Amen,” Archer agreed. “More likely we’ll be sinecized.”

“Is that a word?” Kyle asked.

“Stand-up comics,” April said scathingly. “Jesus. Keep it for the stage, slick. We’ve got serious business to do here.”

“Are you slick?” Kyle asked Archer. “Or am I?”

“Must be you,” Archer said. “I’m more an ass-kicker myself.”

“If I had brought the suit into the U.S.,” Lianne said before April could explode, “you’re right, I would have needed a lot of help. But I didn’t bring in the shroud. I don’t have any mainland connections. Period.”

“Believe her,” Archer said. “I do.”

April’s anger faded as she looked right at him, running scenarios in her head, changing attacks in mid-stride because the attack she had been using wasn’t any good.

“All right,” she said, deciding. “Say I believe Lianne is innocent. Then what?”

“Then you get out of our face and let us clean up this mess.”

“How will you do that?” April said quickly.

“Don’t tell her,” Kyle said, just as fast. “There’s a leak somewhere on her side.”

She turned on him, all acting gone. Nothing remained but a cold, polished agent who knew more than one way to kill. “Explain that.”

“I couldn’t figure out why the Feds were dragging their feet after Lianne put up bail,” Kyle said. “The bureaucrat in charge did everything but make forms by hand.”

“So civil service is a bitch,” April said. “So what?”

“So someone called about Lianne making bail. Then someone else sent a triad hit man to her apartment.”

“You’re reaching,” April said, turning back to Archer. “Okay. What’s the deal?”

“I’ll get back to you on that, too.”

“You really believe our security is compromised?” April asked scornfully.

“It wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

Small, elegant fists shot up to rest on April’s waist. The result was to outline her body very nicely, but for once she wasn’t thinking of that.

“Okay, boys and girl,” she said. “Listen up. Some really big elephants are at play. Right now, you’re the grass underfoot, soon to be ground into mud. If the idea doesn’t appeal to you, grab hold of Uncle Sam and climb up for the ride. You’ll be a lot safer.”

“What about Farmer?” Kyle demanded. “He bought the suit. Surely he can give you a lead.”

“He says he got the suit from Taiwan.”

“Then why are you leaning on Lianne?” Kyle asked.

April didn’t answer.

Archer did. “Two reasons, I imagine. The first would be that our assets in Taiwan say that the jade shroud didn’t come from there, but Taiwan is more than happy to twist the Chinese tiger’s tail by saying it did and forcing the U.S. to choose sides. Uncle, of course, would rather not play that game.”

“And the second reason?” Lianne asked.

“You’re easier game than Dick Farmer. He has wires into enough Congressmen to light up Washington, D.C.” Archer turned back to April. “Right, Ms. Joy?”

“Right or wrong, it’s not my problem. It’s yours.” She watched Kyle with clear black eyes. “Last chance, handsome. I promise I’ll be gentle with you.”

Kyle gave April a genuine smile and shook his head.

She spoke to Lianne in rapid Cantonese. “No matter how strong and beautiful the tiger, it is always safer to walk than to ride.”

“No doubt,” Lianne said in English. “But I have to say, the ride is incredible.”

“Yeah,” April said, flicking Kyle a glance, “I’ll just bet it is.” She faced Archer. “Someone is going down
for that jade shroud. We’d rather have the whole pipeline from here to China so this kind of thing won’t happen again real soon. But if all we can get now is a small fish, we’ll fry it crisp and pretend it’s the whole damn feast. I’m sure you understand.”