Private Beijing

Chapter 14

After we were released from police custody, Zhang Daiyu and I had taken a taxi from Pinggu District to the Private building located near Dengshikou Station in the financial heart of Beijing. In truth, we didn’t lease the entire building, just the twenty-eighth floor of the striking tower, but I always referred to it as our building because it was such a landmark for me. My dad would never have believed I could take the tiny business he’d left me and turn it into a huge international operation. Of all our offices, Beijing was perhaps the one that most symbolized our reach. There were many US corporations that couldn’t operate in China, but I’d managed to navigate local law, find myself a partner in Shang Li, and launch a successful private detective agency in a country that officially prohibited them.

Justine had left me messages so I took the opportunity to call her. I knew she’d be worried.

“Jack,” she said, her relief palpable. “Where have you been? Your phone has been switched off.”

“Jail,” I replied. “But I’m out now.”

“Jail on your first day is an achievement even for you,” she responded. It was meant to be a joke, but her voice lacked conviction.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sci has given us a lead. According to DNA analysis, it looks like Lewis and Jessie’s shooter was ethnic Chinese.”

She had my complete attention. This was confirming that there might be a link between the two attacks.

“We’re going to keep digging,” Justine said.

“Same here. We’re on our way to the office now,” I replied. “Let’s keep each other updated.”

“Will do,” she responded. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” I said, before hanging up.

Zhang Daiyu gave the polite smile of someone who’d been pretending not to listen as I pocketed my phone.

When we arrived at the office, she introduced me to the team of eighteen field operatives and ten administrative staff. The mood was somber, which wasn’t surprising, since they had lost three of their own, and possibly a fourth, their boss and my friend.

I thanked them all for their hard work and expressed my sympathies for their fallen colleagues’ friends and families before Zhang Daiyu took me into her office.

“They will have appreciated your words,” she said. “I know I did. Now I’m going to make some calls to see if I can get us in to speak to David Zhou,” she told me. “Make yourself at home.”

“I’d like to review the surveillance tape, if possible,” I responded. “See what Li and the team found on Zhou.”

“Of course.”

She set me up on her computer and I checked the photographs, video, and audio recordings of David Zhou, which had been captured by the team over the preceding two weeks. While I was doing this, she made her calls.

After a while, my own phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was from Beijing.

“Jack Morgan,” I said when I answered.

“Mr. Morgan, this is Lin Su Yun, Shang Li’s wife. You left a message for me. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to return your call, but I have not been able to talk to anyone. My family. The children...”

I had phoned Shang Li’s wife shortly after arriving in Beijing.

“You don’t need to explain, Su Yun. I can only imagine what you’re going through. I’m so sorry about what’s happened. I wanted to arrange a time to visit to see if you need anything.”

“I need my husband,” she said.

“The police think—”

“I know what the police think,” she replied. “They’re wrong.”

I hesitated. Denial was the most common initial response to bereavement. There was an outside chance Shang Li was still alive, but with three dead colleagues, even if he’d been alive when he’d been taken from the van, there was little chance of him being allowed to live for very long.

“Do you have someone you love?” Su Yun asked me.

I was silent, thinking about Justine.

“If you do, you’ll know you can feel them in your bones. They are part of you, like your eyes or your heart,” she told me. “Would you know if your heart stopped, Mr. Morgan? Mine is still beating. He’s somewhere out there. Find him for me.”

“If he’s alive, we’ll find him,” I assured her.

“My husband speaks highly of you, Mr. Morgan. We will meet when he is by your side and we can celebrate his safe return.”

“Until then,” I replied.

“Thank you, Mr. Morgan,” she said before hanging up.

“Su Yun called,” I explained to Zhang Daiyu when she finished her call.

“How did she sound?”

“Defiant,” I replied.

Zhang Daiyu joined me at the computer and we sat in her modest office reviewing the investigation material for a couple of hours. She briefed me on what she’d already found and pointed out interesting highlights, like David Zhou’s frequent visits to Meihui. I built up a picture of an extremely successful financier with some unusual connections. Along with Meihui, there were regular visits to a street vendor in Pinggu who sold cheap radios and to a chow fun stall in Dongcheng District.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“Intelligence or criminal,” Zhang Daiyu replied. “Maybe both.”

“What was he doing on the university campus the night they were all killed?”

“The police think Zhou knew he was the target of surveillance and that he lured the team somewhere they would be vulnerable,” Zhang Daiyu revealed. “They believe he planned the ambush to prevent us from discovering whatever it is he’s up to.”

I didn’t think he’d be so stupid, but Zhang Daiyu’s phone rang before I could respond. She got to her feet and answered, pacing her office while listening to whoever was calling. I’d noticed there were few personal touches in her office. No photos of family or friends, just a framed picture of her in her Beijing Police dress uniform hanging alongside some sort of certificate. Shang Li had told me she was dedicated to her job, and nothing I’d seen so far led me to believe otherwise.

“Okay,” she said after she’d hung up. “Let’s go. I’ve got you into the most secure prison in China.”

“So long as I can get out,” I replied, getting to my feet, wondering how she’d managed to do something so difficult. Chen Ya-ting had said even he couldn’t get into Qincheng. Just who was this woman? I asked myself, studying her.

I didn’t like the wry smile she gave in response to my joking comment. “Now that I can’t promise.”