The Secret Cardinal

48

Liu leaned against the corridor wall outside the interrogation room, eyes closed, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, his body exhausted beyond anything he could remember. More than forty-eight hours had passed since Tian ordered him to Chifeng to end Yin Daoming’s life. His knee ached, and the bruise on his head compounded the sensation of a spike being driven up into the base of his skull.

Technicians from the coroner’s office rolled a gurney down the corridor and parked it next to where Liu stood, narrowing the passage to half its width. They were dressed in white, and each man had smeared a strong aromatic balm across his upper lip as a defense against the stench of death that awaited them inside. Liu masked the smell with his unfiltered cigarettes.

Liu heard a rattling sound moving down the corridor toward him. At once, he knew it was Peng.

‘Do you have to make so damn much noise?’ Liu asked.

‘The officer up front asked me to bring you these.’ Peng tossed him the bottle. ‘Headache?’

‘What do you think? Cao! My skull is splitting. These cultists will drive me mad.’

Liu poured out a pair of tablets and swallowed them dry, eager for relief. Peng stepped aside as the technicians emerged from the interrogation room with a white plastic body bag. The underside dripped as they carried it out, though with what Peng didn’t want to know. As they laid the bag on the gurney, he could tell it contained a body that was small and light.

‘That’s the last one,’ the technician said, handing Liu a clipboard of paperwork.

Liu signed the release forms allowing the bodies to be cremated and disposed of — there were no next of kin. He returned the clipboard, then leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

‘Did they tell you anything?’ Peng asked.

‘Just religious nonsense, nothing of use.’ Liu snorted a laugh. ‘You know what the old man said before he died? He forgave me. Do you believe that? The criminal forgave me. Upside-down world and you wonder why I have a headache.’

‘The cure for your headache is rest and good news.’

‘You have either?’

‘A promising lead. An Air Force officer was returning to Base 20 near Jiuquan last night when the bus he was riding on broke down. As they changed the tire, he and the other passengers saw three objects fly overhead. They had large wings, scalloped like those of a bat.’

‘Maybe they were bats.’

‘Bats do not have engines.’

Liu’s eyes opened. ‘Continue.’

‘The officer could not see the aircraft clearly, but each had an engine that was powering their flight. They were no more than eighty meters off the ground, and he estimates their speed at one hundred kilometers per hour. When the officer returned to his base, he reported what he saw and inquired about any experimental aircraft being tested at night. Fortunately, his superior officer was aware of our investigation and made the connection.’

‘Gansu, eh?’ Liu pondered.

‘The use of light aircraft capable of night flight fits perfectly with the needs of their mission. And we know Kilkenny and at least one accomplice arrived in Mongolia — this answers how they crossed into China. The question is, Why did they not return the way they came?’

‘Because they are being aided by these cultists,’ Liu replied, the answer painfully obvious to him. ‘They were kept in hiding until dark and warned to avoid the border.’

Peng nodded. ‘Based on the time of the sighting and the officer’s estimate of speed, we believe they are covering between one thousand and twelve hundred kilometers per night. And always over sparsely populated areas.’

‘Which is easier to do the farther west they go. That still leaves a large border to protect.’

‘Yes,’ Peng agreed, ‘but now we know what we’re looking for.’