Private Beijing

Chapter 26

Zhang Daiyu and I took a taxi from the hostel to Chaoyang Park, one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in the province. The place was alive, humming with traffic and activity, and watching from the cab window I really got a sense of the magnitude of Beijing. We drove through individual areas the size of Manhattan, city-sized districts within this sprawling metropolis. It wasn’t spread out like Los Angeles but as densely populated as New York. Everything was on a different scale here. Twelve-lane highways crisscrossed the city, and the flowing lanes of traffic became a moving blur of colors as automobiles, buses, and trucks raced about their business.

Zhang Daiyu put her head back and shut her eyes. I didn’t disturb her, partly because she looked as though she needed the rest, but also because I didn’t want to discuss the case in front of the taxi driver. So I kept my gaze on the city, watching our surroundings as we turned off the 4th Ring Road and joined Chaoyang Gongyuan Road, a wide tree-lined boulevard that ran to the south of Chaoyang Park. This neighborhood reminded me of Fifth Avenue in New York, or some of the upmarket cross streets near Central Park. Sidewalks were packed with rich people carrying shopping bags branded with the names of the luxury boutiques that lined the street. Designer clothes from every corner of the globe were displayed in the windows of these exclusive shops. Dark-suited doormen ushered the big spenders into these temples to capitalism.

It seemed odd to have such conspicuous consumption in an ostensibly communist country. We left the retail district and took a right onto the broad perimeter road that ran alongside the grand park. We were heading into the residential part of the neighborhood and it managed to make Manhattan look impoverished. Skyscrapers lined the perimeter of the park, overlooking the broad, exquisitely manicured green space. Each building was newer and more impressive than the last, glass-and-steel mega-structures that featured garden balconies, huge atriums and multi-level penthouses. The cab drew to a halt outside a gold-and-black tower that stood at least fifty floors high. I nudged Zhang Daiyu, who stirred.

“I think we’re here,” I observed.

She nodded, said something to the driver, and handed him some money.

We climbed out of the cab and started toward the building.

“You okay?” I asked her.

“Exhausted,” she replied. “But okay.”

We entered the building through an automatic glass door and stepped inside a huge atrium complete with a flourishing rock garden and waterfall. We were greeted by a doorman in a traditional black suit. Zhang Daiyu spoke to him, and he made a phone call before directing us to a bank of elevators off the huge lobby.

We went up to the forty-eighth floor, where we stepped out into a marble lobby with two doors: a service corridor and a double-width oak door that gave access to the only apartment on this floor. The huge door opened as we walked toward it, and a woman I recognized from Google image searches greeted us formally then bowed her head in apology.

“I’m sorry,” she said in perfect English. “Where are my manners? You must be Jack Morgan,” offering me her hand as she spoke. “I’m Molly Tan. My doorman told me you’d like to ask me some questions. Please come in.”

She stood aside and ushered us into a hallway with a marble floor and wooden cabinets lining the walls.

She took us into a huge vaulted living room with double-height floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the vast city. There were several seating areas, some more formal than others. She took us across to an informal arrangement of sofas and armchairs near the window. A woman in a blue silk dress placed a tray of small bowls and a teapot on a low table before quickly withdrawing into an ante-room.

“Please sit,” Molly invited us. She took an armchair and offered us tea as we both sat down on a sofa opposite her.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us,” I said.

“Of course,” she replied. “I’m a client of Private. Anything I can do to help after the terrible attacks.”

“You know about them?” I asked.

“They have been in the news. The police are eager to question you, I understand? But I know how complicated these situations can be and I am sure you will talk to them at the appropriate time.”

She pushed a delicate porcelain cup toward Zhang Daiyu, who nodded her thanks.

“Would you like tea?” Molly asked me as she filled another.

“No, thanks. We’d like to talk to you about David Zhou,” I said. “You hired us to investigate him and his business dealings. Why?”

“Mr. Zhou and I have crossed paths many times,” she replied indirectly, picking up her cup.

She sat back, looking every inch the billionaire in a black couture dress hand-embroidered with red, pink, and gold finches in a beautiful swirling design. Her long black hair was arranged in an intricate up-do and her makeup was flawless, accentuating her delicate features.

“We were both supposed to be part of a syndicate of investors taking over an international shipping business, but I did not wish to risk tarnishing my reputation by association. I’d heard things about Mr. Zhou and his business partners. Thought I should do due diligence before entering any business deal as his associate.”

“What sort of things had you heard?” I asked.

“That he is connected to the underworld. That he comes from an old Triad family,” Molly replied. “The kind of rumors that can be unsettling for a businesswoman who cares about her own reputation.”

I looked at Zhang Daiyu. Nothing like that had ever come up in our background investigation of David Zhou. Had Molly Tan been fed misinformation? Or was she lying to us?

“What’s happened to the deal?” I asked. “Since his arrest.”

“It’s lost momentum,” she replied. “We’re all waiting to see what happens to him. Whether he needs to be replaced.”

“There was no mention of this deal in our original terms of engagement,” Zhang Daiyu remarked.

“I did not wish to risk word of your inquiries reaching my fellow investors and spooking them,” Molly replied.

Something was off here, that much was clear. She wasn’t being entirely honest with us.

“There was no mention of it in our background investigation either,” Zhang Daiyu countered.

“In our world these things are agreed with a phone call and a handshake,” Molly replied. “The lawyers do the paperwork when we are ready to sign. We weren’t yet at that stage when I spoke to you. Particularly not after I heard the rumors about Mr. Zhou.”

“Who told you about them?” I asked, and she looked momentarily taken aback.

“I can’t say. Not without breaching a confidence.”

“Why us?” I asked. “Why choose Private? There are plenty of other agencies in Beijing.”

Molly didn’t get a chance to answer me. The hallway door opened and two children spilled into the room, chattering to each other. They were accompanied by a slim man in a tailored suit. Molly rose and spoke to them in Mandarin and the children ran over and gave her a hug. Both boys, they were between ten and twelve years old and wore matching school uniforms.

“Mr. Morgan, Detective Zhang Daiyu, these are my boys Ru and Yan.”

“Hello,” I said.

“Mr. Morgan is American,” Molly explained to them.

“Like Iron Man,” Ru, the elder of the two, noted.

I chuckled. “Not quite like Iron Man.”

“Close enough, I’m sure,” the man said, joining us. He was a few years older than Molly, his hair frosted with grey.

“This is my husband, Bryan Meng. Jack Morgan and Zhang Daiyu from Private,” Molly introduced us.

“The detective agency,” Bryan remarked. “You’re famous for all the wrong reasons.”

He gave his wife a sharp-eyed glance to convey that he wasn’t as sanguine about hosting fugitives as she seemed to be.

“Give us a few minutes, please, darling,” Molly said. “We’re nearly done here, aren’t we, Mr. Morgan?”

“Almost,” I replied.

“Come on, boys,” Bryan said, and the two kids followed him through a door that led to a large kitchen.

He closed it behind them.

“So?” Molly remarked.

“You were going to tell us why you chose Private,” I reminded her.

“Because you’re the best, Mr. Morgan. Your reputation is unrivaled. Will that be all?”

“Don’t you want to know if we found anything?” I asked. “On Mr. Zhou, I mean.”

“Why?” she responded. “He’s in prison. The deal is on hold. He’ll either be found guilty and go away for a very long time, or he’ll be cleared and his business activities will resume. In either case, he no longer poses any risk to me. The police investigation will resolve the matter one way or the other. When you are able, you should please arrange for me to be sent the final bill for your work.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

She wasn’t going to give us any more, and I had as much as I needed — hints that she was lying. Which meant she was either involved in the strike against Private or had something else to hide.

“Then our business is concluded,” she said.

“I guess so,” I replied.

Molly got to her feet. “You must contact me if anything else comes to mind. Here are my details.” She pulled a card from under a coaster on the table. It had obviously been placed there in readiness for delivering this brush-off.

“Thank you,” I said, taking it. “We’re sorry to have intruded on your family time.”

“That’s quite alright.”

She walked us back to the elevator.

“Good luck with your investigation,” she said. “I hope these problems you’re having go away.”

The elevator door opened and Zhang Daiyu and I stepped in and said goodbye to Molly Tan, who watched us out of sight.

“Thoughts?” I asked when we were on our way down.

“She’s hiding something,” Zhang Daiyu replied.

I nodded. “Nothing she said stacks up. I can’t shake the feeling we’re being used for something. We should run surveillance on her. Look into the business deal she talked about and find out the real reason she hired us to dig into David Zhou.”