Private Beijing

Chapter 60

Gavin Hudson lived in Beijing’s diplomatic quarter, not far from Liu Bao’s penthouse apartment. It was one of the most heavily monitored places on the planet. The Chinese authorities wanted to know what the rest of the world was doing, and the various diplomatic missions kept tabs on each other, keen to understand which countries were trying to gain an advantage with Asia’s superpower.

Hua drove Zhang Daiyu and me in the LDV surveillance van. It was early, but life in this part of the city was already in full swing. Embassy staffers were out jogging, hawkers were setting up their food stalls, and noisy trucks were making deliveries to local shops and restaurants. We arrived in Xiayuan Park, the complex where Hudson lived, and Hua found a space in the parking lot opposite the apartment building.

We left the vehicle and headed across the street toward the block. There was an American guard on the gate. Civilian dress of dark trousers and a short-sleeve white shirt, but his ramrod posture, crewcut, and piercing stare screamed Marine Corps to me.

“Can I help you, sirs? Ma’am?” he asked, as we approached the open gate set in a green mesh fence. Behind it lay manicured gardens and a modern apartment block twenty floors high.

“We’re here to see Gavin Hudson,” I replied.

“Is he expecting you?” the guard asked.

“You with the Corps?” I gambled. “I was a pilot. Flew Sea Knights in Afghanistan.”

“Good for you, but that don’t make us brothers.”

He obviously took his job very seriously, so I tried another tack.

“Mr. Hudson has got himself into some trouble with a local gang boss. It’s compromised him and he’s going to want to know about it.”

“That’s an embassy security issue, sir.”

I began to wonder if the guy was a former Marine or a failed one. He lacked the imagination and initiative typically found in the Corps.

“We’ll inform the embassy once we’ve spoken to Mr. Hudson,” I replied. “Just call up and ask if he’ll see us. Tell him it’s about his finance friend.”

The guard studied me for a moment and then nodded. He pulled a wireless intercom from his pocket and dialed a number. He stepped away to talk and returned a few moments later.

“You can go up. Fifteenth floor. Apartment fifteen-zero-eight.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

Zhang Daiyu, Hua, and I walked up the short path leading to the main entrance. The building was painted dark gray with wooden trim on the balconies and windows and there were matching panels artfully positioned on its fascia.

We went inside the air-conditioned lobby and saw another guy in dark trousers and short-sleeve white shirt standing beside a desk. He eyed us as we walked toward the elevator but said nothing.

“Friendly,” Hua remarked.

We took an elevator up to the fifteenth floor and emerged to find Gavin Hudson waiting for us in a small lobby. There was a display of tropical flowers on the table behind him that filled the air with a sweet scent.

“Who are you people?” he asked.

Hudson was dressed in running shoes, sweatpants, and a T-shirt. We were obviously keeping him from his morning exercise.

“My name is Jack Morgan,” I replied. “I run a detective agency called Private. These are my colleagues Zhang Daiyu and Huang Hua. We’d like to ask you some questions about your relationship with Liu Bao.”

“Questions? Are you serious? I don’t have time for questions,” he responded.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Then we’ll take it to the CIA section chief at the embassy.”

“Take what?” Hudson asked, suddenly concerned.

“The fact that your girlfriend is an associate of Liu Bao. She’s visited his apartment in the company of other women we believe are call girls. Do you have any idea why she might do that?”

It was as though I’d hit him. He staggered a little and the color drained from his face.

“Daisy?” he asked. “You’re talking about Daisy?”

I nodded.

“Shit!” he said. “You better come in.”