The Interior

24

DAVID PUSHED OPEN THE BIG GLASS DOOR OF THE ADMIN-istration Building, and the four of them entered. At the end of the hall they came to the heart of the company, where almost a hundred women dressed in nearly identical business suits sat in their cubicles, staring at computer screens or speaking on phones. David pushed Henry into one of the cubicles. The woman working there looked up startled, then, seeing Henry, stood up in some attempt at attention.

"Open the files, Henry," David ordered.

"I don't know how."

"Then ask her to do it."

Henry started to speak, but only a croak came out. He cleared his throat and said, "Please, Miss, can you look up my personal financial records?"

The young clerk stared at him, perplexed. Then she looked over his shoulder, past the other foreigner to Lo and Hulan. The woman looked sick; the other man, with his thick build and sour expression, was surely a government agent of some sort. The clerk's eyes came back to the owner of the company. "I don't have access to those records, sir," she said softly in English. "I only process our purchase orders from America."

Henry turned to David. "As I said before, this can't be of any help."

David signaled the woman to leave, and she edged out of the cubicle. David motioned for Henry to sit. "Type," David said.

Henry glared at David. "I told you I don't know how to use the damn thing."

"You're telling me that you-an inventor, a businessman, and a financial criminal-don't know how to use a computer?" David asked dubiously. When he spoke next, his tone was much harsher. "Look up the files."

Henry turned to the screen and put his fingers on the keyboard. He exited the program the young woman had been working in, went to the main menu, typed in his password, then his name, and up came a list of files: bio, company history, phone logs, travel, correspondence, but nothing on financial transactions. "Try Sun Gan," David said. Henry obeyed. Of course nothing happened, but David wanted further confirmation of Sun's innocence after having doubted him for so long. For the next ten minutes David ordered Henry to type in a variety of key words- expenses, payments, financials, financial records, bank records, Bank of China, China Industrial Bank, and China Agricultural Bank. Some of these revealed legitimate transactions; others revealed nothing but a blinking cursor or the terse words NOT FOUND. There was nothing that came close to any of the damning financial records that David had in his possession. That didn't mean they still weren't in the computer. A forensic accountant would be able to retrieve erased, encrypted, or hidden data.

David put a hand on Henry's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Henry. I know it would have been easier this way." Even in the air conditioning, Henry's shirt had turned damp with nervous sweat. David leaned down and said gently, "Let's finish this."

Without turning, Henry said softly, "I can't."

"You can. You have to."

Henry looked up at David, his face tormented. "Why?" The way the word ripped the air, David knew Henry was asking a fundamentally deeper question than simply responding to David's request.

"That's what we're going to find out. Let's go."

Sensing that something was amiss, the women had stopped working, had stood, and now silently gaped at the group as they threaded their way to one of the other corridors that led from the heart. They passed Sandy Newheart's office, but he wasn't there. They passed the posters of Sam amp; His Friends, each character colorful, harmless, innocent. At last they came to the conference room. The door was closed, but they could hear raised voices inside. Henry glanced at David again, a final plea. But David reached out, turned the knob, and entered the room, where Douglas Knight and Miles Stout sat across from each other at the long rosewood table. The Knight-Tartan contracts lay in sloppy disarray between them. Amy Gao, Governor Sun's assistant, stood against the far wall, looking decorative in chartreuse.

Doug stood. "Dad, thank God. I've been hoping you'd show up. I've got good news. I've told Tartan I'm not selling. We're keeping the company. They can try their hostile takeover, but I've told Miles that I think we can fight them off."

Henry brought his hands to his face and held them there.

"Dad? Are you all right? Here, come sit down."

Doug took a step forward, but Henry's hand shot out. "No!"

Doug frowned, then shrugged as if to say, you simply couldn't predict the old man.

"It's over, Doug," Henry said at last.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, Dad. It's over. I've shown Tartan the door."

"It's not as easy as he's making it sound," Miles said, his voice gritty. "Knight's gone too far to pull out now."

Doug's gaunt face turned crimson. "Don't listen to him, Dad. I've got things under control. I've made mistakes, and I hope you'll forgive me for them. But last night I saw what a fool I've been. Amy helped me. She made me realize this is our company. You and Grandpa built it. We can't let it go. I understand that now."

Henry, his wiry body looking so frail now, stared uncomprehend-ingly at his son, then suddenly walked past him and sat down at the table. The others, following his cue, also took seats. Henry shook his head, then said to David, "I can't do this."

"David, what's all this about?" Miles asked, slipping easily into his professional mode. "We had a deal on the table. It was accepted. We went forward. Then everything went to hell. Why? Fuck if I know. But I'm here because Randall's willing to put yesterday's rigmarole behind him. I'm guessing you're here because you've talked some sense into Mr.x Knight. So, let's finish this up and go home."

"You forget," David said. "I don't work for you anymore."

"I was out of line," Miles admitted. "As you pointed out, I can't fire you without a vote of the full partnership."

"Semantics," David said. "I quit. Does that satisfy you?" Miles's forehead creased as he processed this information. Then he said, "I apologize. Now, let's let bygones be bygones and get on with this." He reached out to the middle of the table and pushed the stack of contracts toward Henry.

The older man fingered the edges of the papers. "If I sign, this will all be over," he said. Again he turned toward David, waiting for an answer. David weighed these words. Could he let what he knew had happened go by unpunished for the sake of this old man? A year ago it wouldn't have been a question. His duty would have been clear. Punishment to the full extent of the law. No mitigating circumstances. No mercy. But since he'd found Hulan again, he'd changed. Sometimes the greater good meant looking the other way. What did Hulan call it? The one-eye-open, one-eye-closed policy? Henry's statement had also implied a question, and as David surveyed the faces in the room, he saw the myriad crimes and secrets that wouldn't be solved by a series of signatures.

"No, Henry, it won't be over," David said.

"Dad," Doug interrupted impatiently. "I've already told you. We can keep the company. I want us to keep it. I know I can build it for my sons-"

"Shut up, Doug," Henry rapped out, then, "David?" They were all staring at him now. David understood that at this moment he held in his hands the power to destroy lives as easily and perhaps more brutally than if he'd held a gun. But so many lives had been lost already. It had to stop now. He looked around. This place seemed so civilized with its pretty pictures on the walls, the air-conditioning, the expensive rosewood table, but violence had occurred here in many forms. He didn't have a weapon, but he knew Lo did and assumed Hulan did as well. If anything happened, they'd be ready. He thought of how he'd seen Hulan at the Tsais' farm. Her method was so Chinese, but she had laid out the facts as any prosecutor would. That's what he had to do now.

"Three weeks ago a girl was killed not far from here," David began. "It looked like a suicide. It turned out to be a murder. We know now that her death had nothing to do with Knight International, but for a while there seemed to be a link. Back then, after I found out about the girl's death, I had dinner with a friend, Keith Baxter. When he was murdered, I blamed myself for reasons that don't matter."

"Do we have to hear all this?" Miles asked, pushing his chair away from the table.

"Stay where you are, Miles," David ordered. Lo, on unspoken command, stood, crossed the room, took a position with his back against the door, and unbuttoned his jacket so everyone could see his weapon. "You see," David resumed in an even tone, "there are so many layers here, so many betrayals, I think you'll all want to hear me out. Especially you. Miles. This next part particularly concerns you."

Miles didn't move. The air in the room, despite the air conditioning, suddenly felt heavy.

"At Keith's funeral," David continued, "I listened, but I didn't understand the words. Miles, you're a smart man, and you played us all so well simply by speaking the truth. Remember what you said about the last time you'd seen Keith? It was something along the lines of 'Keith showed me some papers. He saw the problems. He saw the mistakes.' You flaunted that in front of Keith's family, his friends, and his partners. And not one person understood what they were hearing, isn't that right?"

Miles didn't answer, but the coldness in his blue eyes told everyone in the room that there was truth in David's words.

"Keith confronted you with the lies and omissions in the financials, and you didn't do anything about them. You knew the kind of shop these people ran, and you didn't do anything about that either. You were willing for this deal to go forward at any cost. This has meant," David said, now including the others in the room, "that he was willing to forgo any professional ethics he ever had by lying to the government, by lying to his client, by lying to his partners. In our profession we consider these to be the worst possible breaches, but these are nothing compared to taking a human life. Remember at your house when I said that Keith's sister blamed me for her brother's death? You said something like, 'How could, she? She wasn't there.' But you were! You killed Keith Baxter and you hired me, guessing accurately that since I blamed myself, I wouldn't see the truth."

"I didn't kill Keith," Miles said. "I couldn't possibly-"

"It's not my job to prove it," David said. "But I'm sure the LAPD will be interested in looking at your car-if you still have it. The rest, it's true, is circumstantial. But remember years ago how you taught me to explain circumstantial evidence to a jury? You don't need to see the actual bunny to know it's been in the snow. All you need to see are the bunny's tracks. Well, you've left plenty of tracks, and I think there's enough of them to get a conviction, especially when you add in the motive."

Miles grimaced. "I have no motive."

"Yes, that was a problem," David agreed. "For the longest time I didn't see one, just as I hadn't seen the other things that were so obvious. But you see, that was the key. The obvious. What did I know about you? You were always a climber. Smooth, but a climber. The golf with Milken. The premieres with the studio execs. Mary Elizabeth's charity work. You wanted to be a player."

Miles knew the same lawyer's tricks David did. Watch the eyes. If he looks up, he's scrolling through memories. If he looks left, he's lying. Miles kept his eyes focused on David, but he couldn't control what happened involuntarily. Color had flooded his cheeks-in frustration, in shame, and finally in anger.

With athletic grace Miles leapt to his feet. "I didn't kill Keith!" He looked around the room, searching for someone to believe him. "The rest-"

"The rest could only happen if you became secret partners with-"

"Aw, hell." These words were spoken quietly by Doug Knight, but he'd been underestimated for so long, even by those in the room who knew the truth about him, that no one glanced in his direction. That is, except for Miles Stout, who thought he'd heard in that voice a modicum of sympathy. Miles looked at the man attached to the voice. Then his eyes widened, and his hands instinctively flew up in an attempt to protect himself, but mere bones and flesh could not stop the bullet that shot out of Doug's gun, entered Miles's skull just above his left eye, and took off the back of his head. Miles's body slammed against the boardroom wall and dropped to the ground.

In that split second before anyone moved, Doug stood, reached out, grabbed Hulan's hand, and yanked her out of her chair. She shrieked, high, loud, and very briefly. Then they watched as her eyes rolled up, her face tilted back, her body lost its structure, and she collapsed to the floor. Doug stared down at her, then at his own hand as if trying to ascertain how his grip could have caused such a result. David understood that Hulan had hoped to con Doug into that moment of confusion. After a quick glance at Lo, who was reaching for his weapon, David lunged toward Doug, but he was brought up cold by the sickening metallic sound of a revolver being cocked and the chamber moving into place. Then he felt the muzzle of a gun press just below his left ear and Amy Gao say in her melodious voice, "Step back slowly."

"You'd better obey her, Stark," Doug said to David, then turned to Lo. "And you'd better drop your weapon."

Both men did as they were told.

Hulan's attempt to divert their attention hadn't worked, but she still lay in a rag-doll heap on the floor.

"Get up, Inspector!" Amy Gao's voice reeked with contempt.

Hulan still didn't move.

"I think there's something wrong with her." Five pairs of eyes turned to Doug, who held out the hand he'd grabbed Hulan with. It was streaked with blood.

David took a step forward. Doug's gun swiveled in his direction. "Wait!" David held his position as Doug nudged Hulan with his foot. When she didn't move, he reached down, pulled out her gun, and tossed it across the room. Then Doug motioned to David.

David knelt by Hulan's side.

"Hulan," he said tenderly. When he got no response, he repeated her name louder. Still no response. He put his hand on her face. Her skin was hot and dry and dead white. Her breathing was shallow and ragged. He checked her body and saw nothing wrong except for her bandaged hand. He picked it up. It lay limp in his palm. The bandage was soaked through. He unwrapped the sodden gauze. Thick green pus and blood coated her hand. The wound itself was open and oozing. The swollen skin around it was a rupture of deep purple with dark streaks emanating from the center, like some strange sea creature. Slowly, carefully David pushed her sleeve up from her wrist to her elbow. The horrid streaks made crimson rivers along the skin up her arm. He felt higher to her armpit. The glands were swollen and hard. Blood poisoning. He had to get her out of here.

Doug Knight and Amy Gao, with their weapons aimed at him, were not prepared either for the swiftness or ferocity with which David acted. He lunged into Doug's gut, sending the raw-boned man flying across the room. Lo followed up with a flying kick to Doug's back, while Henry threw his right elbow into Amy's face. David heard a report from a gun- whether Amy's or Doug's he wasn't sure-because he'd swept up Hulan in his arms and was running down the hall back through the heart, where a hundred women in business attire were trying to figure out what was happening.

He made it to the courtyard. Lo's rental car was at the bottom steps. Of course, the keys weren't there. David tried the Mercedes and Lexus; both were locked.

"David! Hurry! Come with me!" It was Henry, taking the Administration Building 's steps three at a time.

David adjusted Hulan's inert form in his arms and took off after the older man. They raced across the courtyard, passing the cafeteria and the dormitory. More shots rang out, tufting up the dirt ahead of David and Henry.

They ducked into the Assembly Building. Jimmy, the Australian guard, wasn't at his post, so Henry was able to reach under the desk and hit the release button for the door.

"Grab it!" he ordered.

David struggled to get the door open; Hulan moaned and twisted in his arms. As soon as Henry saw the door ajar, he ripped the wires for the release mechanism out of the desk. Then he hurried to David, and together they entered the hallway. The door closed behind them and locked into place.

David leaned against the wall, gulping for air, sweat streaming down his face. Henry bent over, placed his hands on his knees, and tried to catch his breath. Looking down at the older man, David registered the oddest detail: he could see the blood pounding through the veins in Henry's neck.

"Lo?" David asking, gasping.

Henry shook his head. "Shot. I don't know."

"We can't stay here."

"There's a phone. Remember?" Henry straightened, still panting. "Aaron Rodgers has a phone in his office."

With the soundproofing in the building, the corridor seemed fearfully quiet. Although they couldn't hear any activity from the factory floor, they could feel the reverberations from the pounding of the heavy machinery. Then they heard noise on the other side of the door.

"Let's go," David said and propelled himself off the wall and down the corridor. He made the first turn and pulled up short. Henry peered around him and saw blood and brain matter splattered on the walls. Sandy Newheart lay dead, with at least one bullet to his head and several others to his body. They had no choice but to walk right through the crime scene, destroying evidence in the process. David's shoes slipped in the blood, and his shoulder crashed into the wall. That blood belonged to someone he knew-a young man who'd spoken just the day before yesterday about going home.

Once on the other side of the body, they picked up their pace, hurrying first down one corridor, then another. "Do you know where we're going?" David asked. Henry didn't answer. He didn't know the way through this maze any better than David. Behind them they heard more gunshots and the door splintering. Again and again Henry tried opening different doors, but they were locked. Behind them in the corridor they heard shoes tramping on the linoleum, getting closer.

Henry tried another door. As it opened, the sound of the running footsteps was completely lost in the din of the machinery in the main assembly room. Henry ducked inside, with David carrying Hulan right behind him. They darted across the floor, dipped behind one of the machines, and hunkered down. All this happened so fast that most of the women hadn't even noticed. David laid Hulan on the ground. She opened her eyes. He put his face down close to hers.

"David?" she whispered. "Where are we?"

"In the Assembly Building," he answered.

She closed her eyes against the terrible noise. Yes, she was in the assembly room. She opened her eyes again, rolled onto her side, and pushed herself into a sitting position. Her face turned the color of pale green marble.

"You're sick, Hulan," David said. "I think it's blood poisoning. We've got to get you to a hospital."

"Help me up," she said. When he hesitated, she ordered him gruffly. "Get me up! We don't have much time, do we?"

David did as she asked. Once in a standing position, she wavered, reached out for the corner of the flocking machine, and steadied herself. She reached for her weapon, but of course she didn't have it. The two men stood before her, staring at her worriedly. Lo wasn't with them, and she assumed the worst.

This was a police matter now. They needed to follow her lead, but she was in no condition to do much of anything. She stood perfectly still, pale and frail compared to the woman who'd been so righteous in the Tsais' courtyard only an hour ago. As far as she knew, there was only one way out of here-the corridor, and she concluded that that was the way they'd gotten in this building. The only reason David and Henry would have brought her here was if they'd had no other choice, which meant that people were after them.

"Excuse me, but you're not allowed in here," a woman's voice said loudly in Mandarin. They turned and saw Madame Leung, the party secretary. "This room is not for foreigners or visitors. And," she added, her tone severe, "no men allowed!"

"Madame Leung, it is I, Liu Hulan. And this is Henry Knight."

The party secretary seemed not to understand. This woman, obviously sick but dressed in her fine silk suit, was no one she knew. As far as the old man? Yes, it was him, but he never came in here during working hours.

"We're in trouble," Hulan continued rapidly. "You must help us."

"This is no place for visitors!"

A shot rang out. Even with the racket of the machines the sound was loud, sharp, and distinctive. Madame Leung turned and saw Doug with the weapon in his hand, Amy Gao at his side. He lifted his weapon again and aimed for the little cluster of people. Before he could pull the trigger, his targets scattered. He fired anyway. Women screamed. Some instinctively fell to the floor. Others made as if to run, but he and Amy blocked the door. There was no place to go.

Hulan peeked around the flocking machine and saw David and

Henry about ten feet from her, behind the engine for the main assembly line. Their heads were down by the exhaust, the fan blowing David's hair away from his forehead. Then Hulan took in as much of the room as she safely could. No one had been shot as far as she could see. There was no movement except for Party Secretary Leung, who slowly crept on all fours under some machinery against a nearby wall. Hulan turned back to Doug. He was saying something to Amy and motioning to the wall not far from Madame Leung. Amy strode forward purposely, unafraid. Why should she be afraid? She held a gun and she had backup. Madame Leung fell flat as Amy passed the machine she was under, but the woman with the gun didn't notice. Amy got to the wall, reached up, and pulled down several levers. One after another the machines ground to a halt. The room fell silent.

"Come out, Dad," Doug called across the cavernous room. "You're in no danger."

"What's happening?" a girl yelled in Mandarin.

Doug waved his gun toward the sound of the voice. Again, silence. Hulan edged around the machine. She saw Siang and Peanut huddled together.

Doug reached down, grabbed a girl of about twelve, and held the gun to her head. "Dad, I'm asking you to come out and talk to me or this girl dies."

Henry started to stand. David grabbed a handful of Henry's shirt to keep him down, but the older man jerked the fabric out of David's grasp and stepped out from behind the conveyor's engine. Doug tossed the girl aside. She fell, then quickly scrambled for cover.

"Did you always know, Dad? Is that why you wanted to sell?"

"No, son, I didn't know it was you until I saw all of your papers together. And during this last hour I've been trying to understand, but I can't."

"Then why sell?"

Henry closed his eyes as if in pain. When he opened them again, his eyes were hard. "Are you going to let these people go?"

"Why sell?" Doug demanded.

"I thought you'd get a better price while I was still alive, and together we could deal with the tax consequences."

This, of course, was what Pearl Jenner had written in her coverage of the sale, and it had been the accepted reason bandied about on Wall Street, but Doug didn't believe it. "You didn't want me to have the company," he stated matter-of-factly.

"If that's what you want to believe-"

"Admit it!" Doug aimed the pistol.

Henry raised his hands in supplication. "I'll admit it if you'll let these people go."

Hulan took this as her cue. Drawing on her last reserves, she edged back out of sight, then crawled along the floor. This meant putting weight on her hand. The pain was excruciating, and with every yard she gained she thought she would pass out again.

"Dad, you know I'm not going to do that. I can't. Things went too far."

These words chilled Hulan. Either that or she shook from pain and the cold sweat that had broken out over her body. She reached a little group of women, whispered instructions, and moved on. David too had begun to move, making his way slowly and quietly to a position behind Amy, who stood with her gun aimed at Henry's back.

"Tell me why, son. Isn't that what you're supposed to do now? Tell us why."

Doug didn't respond. Instead he looked around the room apparently searching for something.

"Doug!" Henry shouted. "I'm talking to you!"

Doug looked back at his father. "What is it, Dad?"

"I need to know why."

"But there's so many reasons, and"-he grinned-"so little time."

"Tell me we have time for this at least. Accord me that courtesy."

Across the room, Madame Leung kept moving, also stopping occasionally to whisper to girls and women. Did she have the same idea as Hulan? Or was the party secretary just trying to make her way to the door? If she was and Doug or Amy caught her, she'd be dead in a second.

Doug sighed. "Okay, but if you're stalling for time, it won't do any good. As everyone has said before, this place is in the middle of nowhere. What has to happen now can't be stopped."

Henry agreed with an abrupt nod.

"I was never interested in the company, Dad. You knew that. Everyone knew that. You thought I wasn't good enough. Everyone else thought I wasn't talented enough. I've heard it my whole life at those toy conventions-your dad's a hard act to follow, or you've got some pretty big shoes to fill. Then you got sick and you sent me here to get this place built. I met Governor Sun and, of course, his assistant, Amy. She was the one who first told me how profits could be made without any outlay of capital."

"Skimming off the salaries," Henry said.

"I know it doesn't seem like much," Doug said. "But look, three hundred thousand a year tax-free ain't bad."

"That's chump change."

"It's not when you start adding in other factories. Once I got here, I saw we could expand easily-just as Mattel and Boeing have."

"Those are legitimate businesses."

"It doesn't matter how you get there. What matters is the profit. Do the math, Dad. Four new factories, each with a three hundred thousand skim-"

"But it still wasn't enough."

Hulan reached her old workstation. She brought a ringer to her lips to keep Siang and Peanut from making a sound, but their eyes widened in disbelief and surprise as they recognized her. Then she leaned in and whispered. It was her last act before she lost consciousness again. From his position across the room, David saw Hulan sink to the floor and the two Chinese girls try to wake her.

"Exactly!" Doug said. "The turning point came with Sam amp; His Friends. You're home, supposed to be resting, and you come up with this great idea. That's what makes you a genius. That's why you're in the Toy Hall of Fame. But you didn't see the potential."

"I saw it. That's why I wanted to sell now. We'd get the best price while I was still alive."

"No, you don't see what I see. The dolls are nothing. The money's in the technology. If you'd spent any time with Miles and Randall, you'd have seen that's what they wanted."

"Was Miles your partner?"

Doug humphed. "He's a lawyer, Dad. Give me some credit."

"But he knew what you were doing out here."

"Sure. But he had his eye on a bigger prize. Seal the deal, leave his firm, and go over to Tartan. They were talking stock options, the works. You would have known that if you'd paid any attention." Doug shook his head. "But you didn't pay attention, which is why we're here. All you had to do was spot trouble, i.e., our company was paying Sun Can bribes, and you would have nixed the whole thing, because you'd do anything to protect that guy. Am I right?" When Henry didn't respond, Doug screamed, "Am I right?"

"Yes."

"But you didn't back out of the deal because nothing went as it was supposed to. I gave that little tramp the information, and what does she do? She fucks it all up. I wanted her to give the works to that measly little do-gooder who'd been nosing around. But instead she splits it up. Keith shows a variation of it to Miles, who buries it for his own personal gain. Keith died because he didn't have the guts to expose what he knew. She also sends some of the papers to Sun, and he does everything he can to cover his ass. But I still counted on Guy Lin. He at least did what he was supposed to do."

"But for what end? I still don't understand."

"Any piece of it-the bribery, the problems on the factory floor- should have been enough to alert you. I knew you'd start an internal investigation, and once you did you'd pull out of the Tartan deal, because the idea that Tartan would keep the place running like this would make you sick."

"What you've done here does make me sick. You could have avoided all this just by telling me what you wanted. Did you think I wouldn't pull out if you asked me to? And why promise to sell your shares to Tartan, then back out of that?"

"You still don't get it, Dad. Think Knight. Think chess. Think next move. Finally, rather later than I expected, you did exactly what I wanted. You heard about the hostile takeover and ordered your brokers to start buying stock. You were to increase our shares overall."

"Meaning more profits to you. But," Henry said, gesturing around him, "this can't be the checkmate you wanted."

A small smile played on Doug's lips. "It will do."

"Come on, Doug," Amy interrupted. "Let's get moving."

Doug nodded and motioned for Amy to get to work. The woman tucked her revolver in the waistband of her skirt and began pulling handfuls of fiber out of big burlap sacks and tossing it on the floor. The intention of this action was immediately felt by the hundreds of women in the room. These foreigners planned to light a fire.

"And what will this get you? You'll destroy your prize," Henry said.

"It covers this mess," Doug answered. "I figured we could deal with a lawyer, but the police? Once the inspector showed up we had to change strategies. But don't worry. We've made plans to pick up from the ashes."

David's eyes darted back to where Hulan had collapsed. She hadn't moved, but the two girls had. One was on her feet, darting from the safety of one machine to another, while the other crawled along more cautiously. Both were passing word of some sort. Their movements went unnoticed by Amy Gao, who now looked ghostly in a cloud of fluff, while the two men in the center of the room seemed completely unaware of the electric fear pulsating throughout the room.

"All you had to do was walk away from the deal," Doug said. "But look what it took! It makes me think you're not as smart as everyone says."

"And you're still telling me you did this for the technology?" Henry asked skeptically.

"Dad." The word was drawn out and as patronizing as any from a rebellious teenager. "It was the skim. It was the potential of this land. I mean, my God, look around! We could have had all of it for nothing. But yes, it was the damn technology. You hit it, Dad. You actually hit it. It's so much bigger than Sam amp; His Friends. The other toy companies want it. The studios have been banging at the door. Think what this could mean to Warner Brothers and the Batman films or to Paramount and the Star Trek franchise or to Lucas and the Star Wars empire. Everything that's old could be new again, and everything that's new could be… Well, others have talked about interactive toys, but you did it. Seven hundred million was peanuts. Even if we make one hundred million a year and the stock market values us at thirty times earnings-which is modest these days- we'll have a company worth three billion, with nowhere to go but up."

Henry's face was unreadable. Finally he said, his voice disappointed, "Our family has been in the toy business. Did you once stop to think what that meant?"

Doug turned his eyes away from his father and settled on some women cowering nearby. Seeing them seemed to remind him what had to happen next. When he looked back at his father, he seemed determined. "I'm sorry you see it that way, Dad." Then, "Amy, I think that's enough. Let's go." Amy walked to his side, her heels clicking staccato against the floor and wafting bits of fluff and lint behind her. Doug reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter, weighing it in his left hand.

"There's just one thing I need to know," he said. "Did you ever think I could run the company? Did it ever just once cross your mind?"

David moved into a crouch, ready to pounce. He kept his eyes on Henry, primed for a signal, so he saw, just as Doug saw, the look that came over the older man's face.

"No, Doug, it didn't," Henry admitted sadly, and as he spoke these words it was abundantly clear that the realization that he'd so little faith in his son was even more painful than the fact that his son was a murderer.

Doug, the revolver steady in his right hand, flicked open the lighter. Just as he did so, hundreds of women rose en masse. Immediately they were joined by those who hadn't gotten the word that had circulated. Whatever opportunity David had to attack was blocked. In that same instant a shrill voice screamed something in Mandarin, something clicked and clicked again, and the machines revved to life.

Doug took a step backward and waved his revolver around. Amy reached for hers. In that second the women rushed forward. Amy was wrestled to the ground. Doug struggled, got off a couple of shots, pushed away from the grabbing hands, lost his balance, and flew back into one of the machines. Blood spurted from the center of the crowd of women. Doug's scream was cruel and very short.

A moment later the machines were shut down and an eerie quiet fell over the room. David picked his way through the pink-smocked women. Doug had been grabbed by the claws of the fiber-shredding machine. His body was a mangled and bloody mess. Henry stood at Doug's side, a hand touching his son's lifeless ankle.

David heard Madame Leung's voice over the loudspeaker, giving instructions of some sort. The women obeyed and began drifting in an orderly fashion toward the exit. David hurried to Hulan's crumpled form. Two girls-one about fourteen, the other also a teenager-kneeled at her side. He felt for a pulse and didn't feel one. He put his ear on her chest and heard nothing.

Then someone screamed. Then another scream, and another, and another as the preternatural calm of moments before was replaced by panic. One of the girls holding Hulan's hand looked at David in terror. She moved her lips. He didn't understand the word. She repeated it again and again. Finally he understood the word through her heavy accent. Fire.

He scooped Hulan up into his arms and stood. Now that he was upright, he saw the flames kicking up from the fiber fluff. Hundreds of women shoved and pushed to get out the door as the flames spread quickly through the piles. David, holding Hulan, with the two girls clinging close to his side, joined the others in a desperate attempt to escape. Acrid smoke filled the air, creating even more panic. A lot of people would die in here if someone didn't do something. David lowered Hulan's feet to the ground and motioned for the two girls to take her arms and get her out of the building. He took one last look at Hulan's ashen face, then turned and walked into the smoke.