Their host motioned to two rattan couches, and they sat. Pau faced them from a Cantonese easy chair. Malone, apparently remembering Stephanie’s briefing on the phone, kept the facts to a minimum and made no mention of the Russians. But he did say, “We understand the lamp is not important. It was the oil inside that Karl Tang wanted. You don’t happen to know why?”
Pau’s eyes stayed flat and hard.
She’d been oblivious to the man’s manipulations on her first visit, thinking herself in charge. Now she knew better.
“Only that Tang required a sample of ancient oil for some purpose.”
“You’re a liar,” she declared.
Pau frowned. “And what if I am? What do you have to offer for the information you seek?”
“What do you want?” Malone asked. Then he motioned at the room. “Obviously, you don’t need money.”
“True, I am a man of means. But I do have a need. Let me inquire of Ms. Vitt. Do you intend to return to China?”
“You know about Sokolov, the boy, Tang. You know about everything, don’t you?”
“And the answer to my question?”
“I wasn’t. But I am now.”
“I assume your reentry will be without the Chinese government’s knowledge?”
“That would probably be best,” Malone said.
“I want to accompany you.”
“Why would we even consider doing such a thing?” she asked.
“I know where there is another sample of oil from 2,200 years ago.”
TANG HELD A METAL PAIL THAT HAD BEEN BROUGHT FROM THE car. He’d obtained it at the drill site, along with a few other items, before leaving. His man had returned with two rats, one of fairly good size, found in the alley behind the building. He knew it would not be hard. Buildings like this were infested.
He heard the pests scurrying inside a cardboard box that had been hastily utilized as a cage. He realized it would not take them long to discover that they could burrow through. His background investigation on Sokolov had revealed a terrible phobia of rats, which made the Russian’s choice of refuge even more strange. But under the circumstances, he’d probably not had many options. Hiding among the million and a half inhabitants of Lanzhou probably had seemed a safe bet.
He walked back to where Sokolov had been secured to a chair with heavy tape, his hands and feet still bound. He’d ordered the man’s shirt removed, his bare chest exposed. Some rope, which he’d brought, a couple of lengths about two meters long, lay on the floor behind the chair.
Sokolov had yet to see the rats, though he surely heard their chatter.
Tang motioned and the chair was tipped back. Sokolov was now facing the ceiling, his spine to the floor, feet in the air. The cardboard box was opened and Tang scooped the rats into the pail. Its slick metal prevented their claws any traction, though they tried in vain to climb.
He approached Sokolov.
“It’s time for you to understand just how serious I am.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
BELGIUM
MALONE HAD BEEN TOLD ENOUGH ON THE PHONE BY STEPHANIE to know that Pau Wen had maneuvered Cassiopeia a few days ago and was now trying to do it again.
“Why do you want to go to China?” he asked Pau. “I’m told you fled the country decades ago.”
“And what is your involvement here?”
“I’m your travel agent. The one who can book your ticket, depending on how I feel about you.”
Pau grinned. “There is about to be a revolution. Perhaps even a bloody one. In China, changes in power have always involved death and destruction. Karl Tang intends to assume control of the government—one way or another.”
“Why does he need a sample of oil from centuries ago?” Cassiopeia asked.
“Do you know about the First Emperor, Qin Shi?” Pau asked them.
Malone knew some. Lived two hundred years before Christ, a hundred years after Alexander the Great, and united seven warring states into an empire, forming what would later be called China, named after him. The first to do that, starting a succession of dynasties that ruled until the 20th century. Autocratic, cruel, but also visionary.
“Might I read you something?” Pau asked.
Neither he nor Cassiopeia objected. Malone actually wanted to hear what this man had to say, and he was glad Cassiopeia seemed to agree.
Pau clapped twice and one of the younger men who’d watched the encounter at the front door appeared with a tray, upon which lay a stack of brittle silk sheets. He laid the tray in Pau’s lap, then withdrew.
“This is a copy of
“And you just happen to have an original?” Malone asked. “Ready to show us.”
“As I said, I knew she would come.”
He smiled. This man was good.
