Stone, Katherine (26 page)

The Jade Palace

Monday, December 6, 1993

The
Jade Palace crew worked throughout the night to remove the cloak
of bamboo and mesh. By dawn the hotel was fully revealed... and on that Monday,
time stood still.

The pace dictated by the uncertainties of Hong Kong's future was
forgotten. Financiers left their billion-dollar deals to join the throngs on
Blake Pier. Some played hooky even longer, riding the ferries to Kowloon for a
closer look. Word traveled swiftly throughout the territory, and although the
hotel would stand forever—and its grand opening was three-and-a-half weeks
away—everyone wanted to see the work of art
now.

From Chai Wan they came, and Tai O and San Tin and Cloudy Hill.
Within hours of the unveiling, Hong Kong's ever-alert entrepreneurs had already
begun to capitalize on what had clearly become a pilgrimage. Junks, sampans and
walla-wallas
lined the sea walls on both sides of the harbor, each
promising to provide paying passengers with the closest possible Palace view.
The sightseeing offered by private boats was a relief to the suddenly
overloaded ferries, but also a nightmare. Minor accidents became commonplace as
even the most expert skippers were mesmerized by the sight at water's edge.

Enterprising photographers created instant postcards, and Jade
Palace souvenirs—from T-shirts to cloisonné—became Hong Kong's most rapidly
growing cottage industry. The frenzy increased with each passing day. New
visitors came, as did those who'd already seen it once, twice, three times.

Thursday brought a dramatic weather change, but even the
unseasonable dampness didn't dampen the mood. Hong Kong had a new temple, a
shrine to the city itself, a brilliance that would never fade.

But it did fade. By Thursday evening, the Jade Palace was a hated
thing. No longer a celebration of harmony, it became a reminder of the
bitterness from which the Crown Colony had sprung, the exploitation of the
Chinese by the
gweilos,
the foreign devils who'd come to make their
fortunes—and then leave.

***

The dream began to unravel at 2:00 Thursday afternoon when James
received the phone call, followed immediately by faxed copies of the damning
documents. At 2:20, he instructed Mrs. Leong to arrange a 3:30 meeting in his
office.

"What if one of them isn't available on such short
notice?"

"That isn't an option," James said. "They must both
be here. If there's a problem, let me know."

Sam bristled slightly at what sounded like an imperious command,
even translated through the polite voice of Mrs. Leong. But the timing couldn't
have been better. He was leaving the construction site for the last time, his
job through.

Tyler bristled more than slightly. He was waiting for Eve at the
apartment when his secretary paged him.

"Mrs. Leong says you
must
be there."

"But she didn't say why?"

"No, not even a clue."

The scowl that darkened Tyler's face as he replaced the receiver
had little to do with the mysterious meeting at Drake Towers and everything to
do with Eve.

Since early November, he'd seen her less than once a week, and
what time they had was measured in minutes, not hours. Eve had lunches to go
to, often followed by teas, events scheduled by Geoffrey that she had to
attend.

Their limited time together was a frustration. What troubled him
was what happened during the rare minutes they had.

In September and October, they'd made joyous plans for their life together.
For the past month, Eve had talked only of their escape. She insisted on going
over it, again and again, as if some sixth sense told her there was a
hidden—and fatal—flaw.

Eve's worry that something would prevent them from leaving had
nothing to do with Lily's surgery. She believed, as Lily did, that as long as
her promise to be there was kept, Lily would be fine. By Monday evening, she'd
be out of surgery— and out of danger.

They could leave Hong Kong at dawn the following morning. Eve was
tempted by a Tuesday departure but decided Thursday was better. It was her
usual day away from the castle. With luck—and Juliana's willingness to make
last-minute cancellations to any engagements Geoffrey had scheduled—Geoffrey
wouldn't realize she was gone until he returned home late that night.

Eve would write a note, informing him she'd flown to England, her
divorce lawyers would be contacting him, and that she wanted nothing from him
but her freedom.

She'd be far away by the time Geoffrey read the note, and if he
tried to find her, his search would take him to England, not the sea.

The plans were solid, and careful. But not soothing to Eve despite
Tyler's patient, loving repetition. If anything, her anxiety increased. She was
panicky even about the passport she didn't have.

"You're a British citizen in good standing, whether or not
you have the document in your possession," Tyler assured her—many times.
"We'll sail to Australia, go immediately to the British consulate, and in
a week or two, a new passport will arrive. You're not a criminal, Eve. This
isn't going to be a problem. Nothing is going to be a problem."

Tyler knew she wanted to believe him. It terrified him that she
couldn't. Her anxiety wasn't his only worry. He was very concerned about her
health. The flu that kept them apart for the first ten days of November had
left Eve thinner than ever, and strikingly pale. They hadn't made love since
before her illness.

They'd have an hour together today, from three, when Eve arrived,
until four, when she'd return to Peak Castle to prepare for a party she was
hostessing that evening. During their hour Tyler intended to propose a new plan
for their future— and insist on it.

Now James had called a mysterious meeting. Tyler placed a call of
his own.

"This is Tyler Vaughn, Mrs. Leong. I need to speak with
him."

"One moment please, Mr. Vaughn."

The tonelessness of the voice that greeted Tyler a few seconds
later communicated the seriousness of the proposed meeting. Still, Tyler said,
"Three-thirty isn't convenient for me, James."

"Make it convenient."

Tyler replied in kind to James's stony command. "Tell me what
this is about."

"If you honestly don't know, Tyler, then it's all the more
important you be here."

***

Eve saw his love when she arrived, and his worry. "What's
wrong?"

"James wants to meet with me in half an hour. I don't know
why, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to go. I want to say something to you
first." Tyler took her cool, thin hands in his warm, strong ones. "I
want us to leave on Monday, as soon as Lily's out of surgery and you've spoken
to her."

"We'd sail at night?"

"Yes."

For the past month, she'd been haunted by her fear that a fatal
flaw existed in their plans for escape. She'd tried to discover the flaw,
straining to see it before it was too late. Tyler had worried that his sudden
change in plans might make her more anxious than ever.

But
this
was what she'd been trying to see. She and Tyler
weren't meant to leave Hong Kong beneath the bright blue skies they'd
envisioned a thousand times. They'd sail into a black velvet night instead,
beneath heavens alight with star shine and moon glow.

Clouds shrouded Hong Kong. But in four days the opaque gray
curtain would open for them—and they'd follow a ribbon of moonlight to their
dreams.

"Evangeline?"

"Yes," she whispered. "We'll leave Hong Kong Monday
night."

***

It was an impulse, which meant as Maylene made the short walk from
her office to his, she needed to make plans. She'd insist that James have
dinner with her tonight. At the Verandah. They'd be recognized, the owner and
architect of Hong Kong's newest shrine, and James would be compelled to engage
in smiling conversation with her—even when the topic was Allison.

A week ago, Allison had confessed her feelings for James, her
love.
As
Maylene heard about their summer of candlelit dinners, she
realized James loved Allison, too. She'd been an eyewitness to his happiness
during the summer—and to his torment ever since.

Maylene would broach the subject of Allison casually. When, she'd
wonder, was James was going to keep the promise he'd made at Peak Castle to
have Allison chauffeur him to Aberdeen for dinner on a floating restaurant?

That settled, Maylene allowed the memory of James's promise to
Allison to take her to other memories of that evening—her
own
memories...
of Sam. He'd rescued her twice that night, as if he'd cared about her shame,
her sadness,
her.

All part of the seduction, Maylene reminded herself. The diverting
illusion that kept Sam entertained while he built the permanent one—the hotel.

The Jade Palace was built, and triumphant, and according to James,
Sam was leaving soon and not coming back.

Which was good. It
would
be good. Once gone, he could
surely be forgotten.

As Maylene rounded the corner to the reception area outside
James's office, she found herself face-to-face with the cowboy himself.

"Oh!"

"Hello, Maylene."

"Hello." Sam clearly wasn't surprised to see her, and
Tyler was there as well. "What's going on?"

"We don't know any more than you do," Tyler said.
"Just that it's a command performance."

"Command performance?" Maylene repeated as the door
behind her opened.

Maylene turned—and saw his stony face. "James? What's
happened?"

He softened slightly. Maylene was an innocent victim. He'd been
intending to tell her following his meeting with Tyler and Sam. But that was
wrong. She deserved to hear everything firsthand. "Why don't you join us,
Maylene?"

***

"We have a problem." James was calm. Controlled. As
always. "An hour and a half ago, I got a phone call from the building
commissioner. He's received two letters claiming the quality of materials used
for the Palace was substandard."

"What materials?" Tyler demanded.

"The concrete, the steel, the glass."

"That about covers it, doesn't it?" Sam scoffed.
"We just wanted to make damn sure the thing blew over in the first strong
wind. Oh, and don't forget the shards of glass that'll be scattered all over
Kowloon. Let me guess, the letters were anonymous."

"Actually they weren't, although at the moment no one seems
willing to share the names with me. Both men have been interviewed and both
stand firmly behind their stories. They don't know each other, nor does there
appear to be a common link, and neither has ever been implicated in any
criminal activity. One is a member of the construction crew and the other works
on the loading docks at Grand Prix."

"Tyler and I are the criminals, is that it?" Sam
elaborated on his own question with disgust—and disbelief. "And it gets
worse, doesn't it, because I made such a point of requesting that Grand Prix supply
the materials?"

"Is that really where this is leading, James?" Tyler's
voice filled with quiet anger. "Are you actually suggesting Sam and I conspired
to bill you for top-of-the-line materials but delivered garbage instead? For
what? A few million dollars?"

"More than a few."

"For what purpose? Greed?"

"A motive as old as time."

"You
cannot
believe this, James."

His jaw muscles tightened, but neither James's eyes nor his voice
could be read.

"What I believe hardly matters. Given the disasters that have
occurred in Hong Kong as a result of construction fraud, the building
commission has no choice but to call a halt to all further work on the
building. They've been told by two independent and apparently unimpeachable
sources that the foundation of the Jade Palace is as dependable as
quicksand."

"Has anyone bothered to talk to Chang Lu?" Sam wanted to
know. "Because we're foreigners, Tyler and I may be suspect. But Lu's a
native. His commitment to the people of Hong Kong is beyond question. Ask him,
James. He'll tell you we built the Jade Palace to last forever."