Two Peasants And A President Part 11

Ping sat contemplating her next move. This was about far more than a single American woman, it was about the struggle to bring true freedom to China. The plan was not only to rescue the American, it was to use her. The group intended that her story ignite outrage, both in China and abroad, outrage that it was hoped would bring about change. Ping decided that it was time to place another note in the sink. She went to the closet and pulled a small, tattered suitcase off the upper shelf. In it was a well worn school book of English studies. It had belonged to her only child, a son she would never see again. With its help, she carefully penned another note: Dear Friend, We want help you escape. You must help us. Do not show your feelings. You must look blank like you have no hope. There are eyes everywhere.

Be calm and still and we will come for you when we are ready.

She sat thinking for several minutes, debating whether or not to pen the next line. Finally she decided that what it would reveal would give her hope, and hope would strengthen her for what was to come.

The one you love is alive too, and will join you.

36.

The commentator from one of the few news organizations not pandering shamelessly to the administration posed the first question of the interview: "Senator, do you have any idea who may have been responsible for the tragic murder of your housekeeper?"

"Bill, I can't stand here today and give you a name, but two facts might lead one to investigate further: One, I had just exposed the unprovoked sinking by China of a Philippine ship. Two, I have openly and frequently opposed the unprecedented expansion of government that is bankrupting this county."

"Senator, are you implying that either Beijing or the Democrats may be involved?"

"No I am not," replied Baines. "I merely stated that certain events would provide obvious avenues for further exploration. It would be premature to draw any conclusions or make any allegations whatsoever this early in the investigation."

"Beijing has loudly and vehemently denied the accusation that one of their submarines sank the Philippine vessel, even going so far as to demand your censure by the Senate. Do you have any comment on that?"

"The guilty cry loudest."

"How reliable is the information that you have regarding the sinking?" asked the commentator.

"Bill, I am not in the habit of spreading scurrilous allegations. I would not have stood before the American people on the basis of mere rumor."

"Senator, you have often pointed to a connection between continued borrowing from China to fund the expansion and a quid pro quo on the part of this administration. Do you have any facts to back that up?"

"The fact of this administration's silence regarding China's claim of sovereignty over 1.4 million miles of ocean, under which lie enormous reserves of oil and gas speaks loudly. Furthermore, the claim that waters more than twelve hundred miles from China's coast somehow belong to the People's Republic is one of the most preposterous things I have ever heard. Yet this administration cowers meekly, hoping to not be cut off from the investments they so desperately need in their quest to turn our nation into the largest debtor nation of all time."

"Those are powerful words," Senator.

"Truth is always the most powerful weapon against deceit and lies," replied Baines.

"Senator, I have to ask you about the woman whom it has been said narrowly escaped death in your home on the day the housekeeper was murdered. Can you tell who she is?"

"At this time, for her protection, I would prefer not to reveal any more about the circ.u.mstances of that day."

"You realize, of course, that some are saying that the murder was the result of a love triangle involving you and the woman. Other stories have alleged that she is a high-priced call girl."

"I can tell you in complete truth, I have never had an intimate relationship with the woman, and I a.s.sure you I am not playing on words like a certain recent president. Bill, in my own preliminary investigation into the circ.u.mstances surrounding the murder, I have come into possession of some fascinating evidence. I hope to soon have compelling proof to back it up, but until that time, I will not be revealing any further details," said the senator.

"That sounds like you're tantalizing us, Senator," said the commentator.

"Tantalizing implies something appealing, like a delicious meal, Bill. I can a.s.sure you that there was nothing tantalizing about the circ.u.mstances of the death of my housekeeper. If my suspicions are confirmed by the facts, one of the most despicable acts in this nation's history will be revealed to the American people."

As the big Lincoln crawled through traffic on the way back from the interview, Baines knew that he had just thrown fuel onto the fire. But he had not acted randomly; he had chosen his words very carefully, hoping to hold the administration's feet to the fire and smoke out whoever had murdered his housekeeper.

He was also well aware that pointing out what China was trying to get away with would further inflame many Americans who rightly view China as no friend of America. Exposing the administration's secret deals was the most powerful weapon he had in his fight to return his country to the people to whom it rightfully belongs. He also knew that he had just upped the stakes in the biggest gamble of his life. He would have to remain alert for the administration's or China's next move. His arm rested comfortably on the console where his Sig-Sauer lay.

He activated the car phone and dialed Clifford Storm's number. There was no answer. He had expected to have heard from his old friend by now.

37.

Brewer had called Rawles three times already. It wasn't that he was looking forward to talking to him, he didn't have much choice. Shumer had been leaning on him to see if they could still make the video thing work. Rawles said it was just a glitch and the broad had hit it off with the senator. So it seemed reasonable to think that she might still be able to get the job done.

But after the third call and not even an answering machine, Brewer decided to drive over to Rawles house. He lived in Argyle, which was a thirty-five minute drive if it wasn't rush hour, so he had plenty of time to think. Several reporters had asked Baines about the broad, and it sounded like he was covering for her. That was good; it made it more likely that she had gotten close to him and would have another opportunity.

The thing that puzzled him, not to mention a few other people, was what had happened at the senator's house. Who the h.e.l.l had blown away the cleaning lady away? And why? And where was the broad during all this? To hear the senator talk, it was like aunt Mabel or somebody just happened to be visiting at the time. Nothing made sense. If Shumer hadn't been leaning on him so hard, he would have just left things alone. Something didn't smell right.

He pulled up in front of Rawles house, a three bedroom brick rancher. It was a decent house. Brewer knew that 'cause he'd paid for most of it. There was no car in the drive. He rang the bell three times. Then he walked over to the living room window and, shading his eyes with his hand, peered in. Nothing. He made his way around the entire house, looking in all the windows he could. n.o.body. Then he remembered what Rawles had said before he stormed out. He was a hot head, but he'd never done anything like that before. He tried Rawles home phone; he could hear it ringing inside. Then the cell phone one more time, still no answer.

It was already pretty late when he got back downtown, so he'd decided to call it a day and head home. He called his wife from the expressway and told her he'd be home for dinner for a change. She prepared a nice meal and as they ate, she was telling him about a problem his son was having.

"Lanny, are you listening to me?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm listening," he replied.

"It doesn't look like it," she said.

She continued, seamlessly moving from one part of her day to the next as he pretended to pay attention. He knew he was going to have to come up with something to tell Shumer, who didn't want to hear any more excuses. The problem was that he didn't even know who the broad was. He always tried to keep these projects at arms length, the better to deny if things turned south. Rawles knew the people who did the jobs, and he was MIA.

After dinner he went to his desk to firm up what he was going to tell Shumer. It was then that he noticed a small metallic disk sitting in the middle of his desk.

"Dear, do you know anything about this thing on my desk?" he called to his wife who was still cleaning up in the kitchen.

"What?" she said.

"This little round thing on my desk, did you put it here?"

"Lanny," she said. "I knew you weren't listening. I mentioned it at dinner and you didn't even look up."

"Sorry, dear, but I'm a little preoccupied. What is it anyway?"

"Well, if you had been listening you would know that it came from your jacket pocket. I found it when I was putting the dry cleaning together. I have no idea what it is."

Brewer looked more closely. Then he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a magnifier.

"s.h.i.t!" he said so loudly that his wife scolded him for swearing for the millionth time. He picked up the phone.

"Stuart. Lanny. I need to see you," he said quietly into the phone. "I need to see you now."

"Christ, Lanny! It's almost 9:00. You obviously know I'm at home. Can it wait till morning?" said Shumer.

"OK, but first thing," replied Brewer.

38.

He pitched his suitcase onto a bed whose cover was threadbare in places. His backpack landed on a desk of Formica and pressboard with chipped edges. The bathroom would make a sixties' Holliday Inn look luxurious. The people he'd seen in the lobby appeared to be mostly Chinese and Indian businessmen whose expense accounts compelled them to stay in a hotel that went for around US$50 a night.

It was definitely not the part of Hong Kong where most tourists stayed, but it had what the other hotel couldn't provide, a view of the pier. Having to peer through a narrow corridor between two other buildings couldn't exactly be described as a good view, but he was able to see the pier and part of the approach to it.

Richard had first returned to his original perch to observe the junk and related cruise office, but remaining in one spot looking through a camera with a long telephoto lens called attention to him. Several people had already noticed and sooner or later they would inform others.

It had occurred to him that those involved with the junk's operation might logically suspend their activities until things cooled down. Brett had left no doubt that at least one American family knew what was going on. But the junk cruise location was all he had to go on. At this point his only hope was that by watching the pier he might learn something.

Brett and Maggie were sitting in a Hong Kong jail; there was little he could do about that for now. Commander Moore had a.s.sisted in ensuring that they received a visit from the Consulate and were afforded an attorney. It was likely that Maggie would be released soon, but severely beating a seaman was a serious charge with the potential of a hefty prison sentence for Brett. Exposing what was going on was the only thing that could save him.

On the second day spent watching the dock, the suspicion that the operation had been suspended weighed heavily. He had spent many hours in a cramped room looking through a telephoto lens while Ray and Holly's clock ticked. That Commander Moore had seemed a bit evasive during his last visit troubled him too. US China relations were at a low point and those manning the Consulate no doubt felt they had to proceed cautiously. Had it not been for Brett's recording, they might not have helped at all.

He had just returned to his room with carryout; there was no room service here, when a police car pulled up to the dock. Two uniformed police officers got out and walked over to the junk. A seaman doing maintenance work topside appeared to call to someone below decks who emerged and approached the police officers. They spoke for some time as the captain photographed them. The officers then entered the cruise office, where they remained for approximately ten minutes. The captain photographed them entering and leaving.

Moore had agreed to meet him over dinner.

"On the flash drive there are some shots of two police officers visiting the junk and the cruise office," he said handing it to Moore. "Look, I know it isn't much; they could be there for a lot of reasons. But it's a place to start. If there's any way you can learn anything about them, it might just point us the right direction." Thinking that the Consulate might be able or willing to investigate two Hong Police officers in their own country seemed unlikely, but he was desperate.

"Captain, I'll do what I can but you understand no guarantees." Richard nodded. "The Consulate has a good attorney working on Brett and Maggie's case. He says it looks like she may be released the day after tomorrow, but they're going to deport her immediately. You won't even be able to see her."

"Even if I could, it would just give away the fact that I'm here," replied the captain. "I'm fairly sure that if they haven't moved on me by now, they probably don't know I'm tied to this. What about the evidence in the case? What do the police have?"

"Unfortunately, under Chinese law, the fact that there were no witnesses is outweighed by the victim's description of Brett and the condition the sailor was in when they got him to the hospital."

"Commander, if no one saw Brett then, how the h.e.l.l did they find him among thousands and thousands of tourists moving through this city every day? I'll tell you how, because he's the spitting image of Ray and he forced the seaman to tell him what happened! He all but handed them his name. They nailed Brett and Maggie just two and a half hours later because all they had to do was match Ray and Brett's last name. That makes it clear that they knew about Ray and Holly. I don't understand why the Chinese authorities can't be confronted with the facts unless they are a part of this. I still find it hard to believe that this is anything more than some rogue operation, which should make it more likely that the Chinese government would want this thing stopped; I mean how many tourists does it take to go missing before tourism starts to drop off?"

"Captain," the commander said. "I need to speak to you in the strictest confidence," he paused as though considering whether or not to even continue. "There is an effort being made to help you. I cannot reveal the details because I don't know them. What I do know is that I've been instructed in the clearest possible terms to be very, very cautious about what I say to you. I'm not even supposed to reveal what I just said."

The captain thought for a moment and then said: "Commander, I appreciate what you've just told me and I will not reveal it to anyone. I would, however, remind you that the United States Navy once trusted me with a billion dollar warship and a top secret security clearance. I had the best training that the Navy has to offer and my initiative saved untold thousands of American lives. I understand how things work and why I was canned, but that doesn't change the fact that I might be able to be of help if your superiors would let me in on what's going on."

"I will find a way to make that known, Captain," replied the commander, "but I must stress that it is critical that you do nothing but observe at this time. Any action that you might be tempted to take on your own could jeopardize what is being done. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly, Commander. I wonder, is it possible to get a message to Brett and Maggie?"

"I wouldn't recommend it. The representative from the consulate, as well as the attorney are closely watched when they're with them. There's no such thing as attorney client privilege here; we have to a.s.sume that everything is recorded. You seem to be operating invisibly so far, and I think it best for you, as well as us, to keep it that way."

"Captain," he continued, "it has been suggested to me that as far as the phone is concerned, that going forward you refer to yourself as Lawrence Tibbets when you leave a message. The Consulate attempts to thwart any eavesdropping, but the Chinese are quite good at it."

39.

Brewer was waiting when Shumer arrived at the office at 7:30.

"You meant it when you said first thing," Shumer said in lieu of a greeting. "Come in."

The two men sat down with the door closed. Shumer glanced at Brewer for a moment. The look on his face said that something was very wrong.

"Spill it," he said, dispensing with any pleasantries.

"Stuart, I've got two pieces of bad news. Which one do you want first?"

"Let's start with the worst." Lanny took the tiny disc out of his pocket and flipped it onto the desk.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Looks like it to me," replied Brewer. "For all I know it's still active so why don't you put it somewhere it'll get real lonely." Shumer briefly considered smashing it with his shoe but then though better of it, deciding to put it in the fireproof office safe until he could have someone examine it. When he came back into the inner office, he looked at Brewer.

"Where the h.e.l.l did it come from?"

"My wife found it in my jacket pocket."

"Any idea how long it was in there?"

"Not really, could have been there since the last time it was at the dry cleaners, I suppose, but I think I would've noticed it before that."

"Jesus, Lanny," Shumer sat shaking his head. "You've always been a careful guy. How the h.e.l.l could this happen?"

"Beats me, it's not like I loan my clothes out or anything."

"You check your pockets this morning?"

"There's not so much as a piece of lint anywhere."

Shumer leaned back in his chair, trying to remember the conversation they'd had, a process interrupted by a muttered "Oh s.h.i.t!" and then a "d.a.m.n it", as what they'd discussed came to mind. He sat silently for a few minutes, shaking his head slowly until finally he looked up again at Brewer.

"What's the other bad news?"