Skeleton Women (17 page)

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Authors: Mingmei Yip

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BOOK: Skeleton Women
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PART FOUR
17
A Luxury Cruise
A
s I was wondering if it would really be possible to run away with Jinying and leave my troubles behind, Lung returned from his business in Peking and called, wanting to see me.
Over the phone, his voice sounded rough and raspy, probably from a lot of smoking, drinking, and whoring on his trip. “Camilla, I need a vacation and want you to travel with me. What about Europe?”
The proposal came so suddenly that it took me a few seconds to think. Normally I would have said something like, “Ah, Master Lung, I’m sure I’ll be happy wherever you take me as long as we’re together.” But this time I had to carefully weigh the options. I could almost hear my brain whirring like a fan inside my head. If I went abroad with him, would it be easier to have him killed? And easier for me to disappear? But would Big Brother Wang trust me so far out of his sight, and would he send men to follow us?
This could be a once-in-a-life-time chance—to eliminate Lung or even to run away without killing him. Though trained specifically to bring down Lung, I actually had no grudge of my own against him. Would luck smile on my path? If so, it would be for the first time.
So I projected a smile into the receiver. “Master Lung, can you tell me anyone who doesn’t want to see Europe? And I know you love the culture there.”
His happy laughter rolled loudly to my eardrum. “Camilla, how come you’re always able to read my mind?”
It really was not hard. Rich and powerful now, Lung had never gotten rid of his inferiority complex from once being a shoe-shine boy. Visiting Europe, especially Paris and Rome, would add to his veneer of culture. Although he really only cared about making money, he loved to be complimented on his predilection for culture.
“Master Lung, I may not be able to read your subtle mind, but I definitely know your exquisite taste.”
“Ha-ha-ha! That’s why you’re my favorite, Camilla. Good, I’ll ask my men to arrange the trip.”
After I hung up, I immediately called Wang and told him about Lung’s travel plan.
My boss’s tone had an edge of suppressed excitement. “It’s good news. He will be off his usual turf and may let his guard down. But assassinating him still will not be easy, because I’m sure he will bring along some of his entourage.”
I thought for a while, then asked, “Big Brother Wang, what about sending a couple disguised as Japanese tourists to ambush him?”
“Good thought, Camilla. I can see that your training wasn’t wasted!”
“Thank you, Big Brother Wang. But you also want me to find Lung’s secret accounts and documents, so if he is killed in Europe—”
“I thought about that. But I don’t want to miss this rare chance to eliminate him. So we should go ahead with the plan and find a way to get at his accounts later.”
“Yes, of course, Big Brother Wang.”
I thought the long ship voyage to Europe might be a good place to trap Lung but wondered how the assassins—and I—could then make our escape. But I did not dare make any more suggestions, in case my boss might think I was trying to outsmart him.
Before we hung up, Wang went on to brief me on the people he’d send, the codes, gestures, and signals for possible communications, all mostly a rehash of what I’d learned during my training.
Preparation was hurried with the help of Ah Wen, who drove me around to shop at the four big department stores—Xin Xin, Da Xin, Sincere, and Wing On on Nanking Road. Since I’d be in Europe, it would be a chance to have Lung pay for a whole Western wardrobe—dresses and accessories like summer hats, straw purses, lace gloves, dainty parasols. Of course I’d also bring a few body-hugging
cheongsam
to show off my exotic Chineseness, my breasts as bulging as Lung’s wallets, especially with their provocative contrast with my twenty-one-inch waist.
Only two weeks after Lung and I had talked over the phone, we were ready to go. Although I was well aware that this trip was not a vacation for me but a dangerous mission, I couldn’t help but feel excited that I would be seeing Europe, especially Paris. Would Lung bring me to the shops along the famous, tree-lined Champs-Élysées? Or take me to see
Carmen, La Traviata,
or
Madame Butterfly
at L’Opera de Paris?
 
The morning of our departure, eight of us, Master Lung, Jinying, Mr. Zhu, Gao and his team of three bodyguards, and I arrived at the dock by the Huangpu River. I looked up at the towering ship, and, instead of feeling the corners of my lips curving up like the ship’s lifeboat, I felt a headache coming on. We waved good-bye to Lung’s underlings, who came to see us off, then followed other passengers to board the gigantic monster. Behind us, Gao and the other bodyguards carried our luggage—dispensable—to-gether with their guns—indispensable. A few people, probably recognizing who we were, eyed us surreptitiously with intense interest. I looked around anxiously and finally spotted among the crowd boarding with us Big Brother Wang’s assassins—a young couple wearing kimonos and talking to each other in fluent Japanese. The man wiped his hand across his forehead—the sign to me that he was Wang’s man. My arm involuntarily tightened around Lung’s as my heart beat like the bullets soon to be fired from all the guns.
Ten minutes later, everybody was aboard the luxury cruise ship. Over the odor of the salt air of the harbor could be smelled expensive perfume, nose-tearing cigars, and fishy money. Lung suggested that we rest, change, gamble for a while in the casino, and, after that, dine at the ship’s fanciest restaurant. Jinying and Zhu acknowledged the master’s order and left.
Lung turned to me. “Camilla, put on something really pretty and sexy. I want to show you off tonight—you got it?”
“Of course, Master Lung. Giving you face is my pleasure and honor.”
He smacked my cheek. “You little witch. I’m sure you also know what I want after dinner.”
This time I didn’t answer but smiled coyly. What else besides sex? Would he suddenly want to discuss Chinese poetry or philosophy?
He turned to Gao and his men. “I’ll be on the radio about some important business, then I’ll take a nap. So do not disturb me unless someone is dying. You got that?”
“Yes, Master Lung.” The four black-clad, muscular men answered in one voice.
I went to my room, which was situated one floor below Lung’s. This was because those next to his deluxe suite were all booked, including the one two rooms away, which was now occupied by the “Japanese” couple, the would-be assassins. I took a shower, wrapped myself in the ship’s bathrobe, and was about to get a drink when the doorbell rang. I dashed to open it, assuming it was Lung, but instead saw a nervous-looking Jinying.
“Jinying, are you crazy? The bodyguards might see us!”
“Don’t worry. We’re on a different floor. Besides, I just gave them money to get a drink in the bar.”
“And they went, even Gao?”
“I insisted. I told them they looked tired and needed a break in order to stay alert. Please let me in.”
“I can’t. It’s too dangerous.”
“But now is our only chance. Tonight you’ll be with my father!”
Ignoring my protest, the boss’s son squeezed himself in, closed the door, and pressed his lips firmly onto mine. I could feel his nervousness, passion, and the thrill of the forbidden pleasure. Maybe sex was on his mind, but it was definitely not on mine, no matter how attractive he looked tonight. The romantic atmosphere of the great ship seemed to intensify his tormented infatuation. If the bodyguards were gone, it might be a perfect time—not for making love to a handsome man, but for the Japanese couple to kill Lung. But then I realized that the ship was still in the harbor, and once the murder was discovered, the ship would quickly be overrun with police.
I pushed him away and protested. “Jinying, please leave. The bodyguards will be back any time now.”
He didn’t respond but scrutinized me with his sad eyes.
I burst out in a heated whisper, “Aren’t you afraid what will happen if your father finds out?”
“I hate him. If I continue to live in his evil world, I might as well be dead. You have no idea what my life is like.”
Of course I knew; I couldn’t share mine with him, either. So I said, “But he loves you.”
“It’s not real love, only that he believes I’m his
fengshui
son. If one day he doesn’t think I bring him good luck anymore, I can imagine what will happen to me.”
“I’m sorry, Jinying,” I said, this time meaning it. Because I was also feeling sorry for myself for similar reasons.
“Camilla, let’s—”
I put a finger across his lips. “Please go back to your room now.”
He uttered a reluctant “All right,” then quietly left.
A few seconds later, I dashed out of my room and ran to the upper floor where Lung and the Japanese couple resided two rooms apart. Running, I almost smacked right into a foreign devil.
He cast me a curious glance.
I smiled. “Sorry, mister.”
“No problem.” He smiled back happily, his eyes lingering on me for long moments before he disappeared into a room.
I inhaled deeply, then knocked tentatively on the Japanese couple’s room. Just then, to my utter shock, Gao suddenly materialized in the corridor like a ghost snatched from thin air. It took a few seconds for him to recognize me, probably because I was not in my Heavenly Songbird outfit but in my bathrobe and with no makeup.
He gave me a curious, appreciative once-over. And, like the foreigner, he allowed his eyes to linger on me a tad too long. It was then that I noticed one of my breasts was showing through my loosened bathrobe. I felt my cheeks burning as I quickly tightened the robe across my chest.
Gao looked somewhat amused, then pointed to the other room. “Miss Camilla,
that
one is Master Lung’s room.”
“Oh, yes.” I put on my best smile. “I got mixed up. Must be the wine.”
My heart was beating fast. Oh, heaven, please don’t let Gao suspect anything! Just then the door of the “wrong” room opened, and a head stuck out. But before the Japanese husband, code named Black Coffee, was about to say something, I was already speaking, in Mandarin.
“Oh, sir, so sorry to disturb you. I knocked on the wrong door. Maybe I should have some coffee to wake me up.”
I was glad that he acted in perfect cooperation. “No problem,” he answered in heavily accented Mandarin, then closed the door with a loud thud, like an emphatic nod.
To “have coffee to wake me up” was the code used when a mission was on hold and needed to be rescheduled.
Gao had been watching us, fortunately not with suspicion but with amusement. I doubted he was feigning. This man’s emotions were written on his face like the inscription on a stele. An honest, loyal man. Good material for a bodyguard but worthless for a spy.
He said, “Master Lung is taking a nap now, so I’m afraid you have to wait for a while.”
I put on a friendly smile. “So where are the others?”
“The young master bought them drinks at the bar.”
“And why aren’t you with them?”
He cast me a meaningful look. “You know me, Miss Camilla. I can’t leave the master unprotected.”
“Of course. You are a good man, Gao,” I said, swallowing the remaining phrase—
but what a pity that your goodness is engulfed by evil.
Why did he work for Lung? I always wondered but never asked. There was a rumor that his father, a compulsive gambler, owed Lung’s gambling den thousands of dollars so that the son was forced to work for the gangster to pay the debt.
He said, “If you don’t mind, why don’t you wait with me for a while? Master Lung asked me to wake him up at five-thirty, just ten minutes from now.”
It was a daring request. But what could we talk about right in front of the tiger’s lair?
My answer was a casual, “Oh, yes, why not? Hmm ...” I pointed to my bathrobe. “But what if someone sees me in this?”
“Then they will think what a fresh, naturally beautiful woman you are.”
After some moments of silence, he took out a pack of cigarettes and shook one out. “Please have one.”
“No, you know I rarely smoke.”
“Please, just this one time?”
I rarely smoked because I feared it might ruin my voice. However, I always liked the wicked gestures that went with it, especially now that I was in a bathrobe in the company of a ruggedly handsome man.
“All right.” I smiled, then took the offered cigarette. Gao slid out a lighter and, with a flick of his big, scarred hand, lit mine, then his. Soon smoke was puffing from our mouths. It was only after several more puffs that I realized, to my surprise, that he’d been blowing out heart-shaped smoke rings. I was touched by this ingenious way of expressing love from the tough bodyguard. But of course I was not going to accept it. So in response, I blew out smoke rings in the shape of a big zero, or emptiness.
In this lifetime nothing was possible for us.

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