Garin didn't go to the eighth floor as he'd been instructed. Orders of any kind irritated him, and his natural course of action was to disobey them. But he did want to meet with Ngai because the man had something he needed.
He just didn't want to appear desperate for it.
After living for five hundred years, he'd learned to be patient – sometimes. The brush-off he'd received from the security man still irked him. Another time, another place, and Garin knew he'd have killed the man for threatening him.
Instead, he put on sunglasses, then went to a small café across the street and ordered a coffee. While he was waiting, he called Ngai on his personal cell phone. The call was meant to throw Ngai off-balance and point out that Garin knew much more about him than he could have guessed.
"What is it?" Ngai sounded irritated.
Garin smiled. There was nothing like being in the driver's seat. He paid the woman behind the counter and tipped her what probably amounted to a week's pay.
He spoke into the phone. "It's Garin Braden."
"What do you want?" Ngai's voice was harsh, but not too harsh, Garin noted.
Garin took his coffee and walked out to the street again. He gazed up at the tall office building, looking at the windows along the eighth floor. He knew that Ngai could hear the street noise around him over the phone connection. He also knew that the man's offices were in the front of the building.
"I want to talk to you," Garin said.
"An appointment was made."
Garin scanned the windows. A moment later, one of the curtains pulled to the side and he made out the security man's face. Garin hoisted his coffee cup in a salute.
"I'll be along in a minute." Garin sipped his coffee. "Tell your security man he owes me his life."
Ngai hesitated. "What do you mean?"
"If I'd wanted to hurt you, I'd have put a team with a rocket launcher on top of the Peace Hotel. By now, that office would be a fiery pit that would have swallowed you up." Garin sipped his coffee and looked at the Peace Hotel.
The hotel actually consisted of two buildings. The first building had been on the south side of
Nanjing Road
, and it had been built where the old International Settlement had been. Back when it had been built in the 1850s, it had been known as Central Hotel. Garin had stayed there right after it had opened.
The north building, the one where he would have placed an assault team if he'd been so inclined, had originally been called the SassoonBuilding. Sir Victor Sassoon had constructed it in 1926. Garin had stayed there, as well, and had known the baron. The Chinese government had taken over the building in 1956 and renamed it the Peace Hotel. A distinctive green steeple capped the top of the building.
The security man's face disappeared from the window.
"Come up and talk to me," Ngai said.
"No. I don't think so." Garin grinned, knowing he had the man. "If you want to meet, you come see me."
There was a pause. "Where?"
"At the Dragon-Phoenix Restaurant in the Peace Hotel. I'll have a table waiting for us. I'll even buy." Garin closed the phone before Ngai could protest.
Feeling satisfied, Garin walked to the hotel. He already had a table reserved from the time his spy inside Ngai's organization had told him the man's private telephone number.
****
The Dragon-Phoenix Restaurant was one of the tourist attractions at the Peace Hotel. As such, the decor was properly opulent. Circular red tables stood out like large islands against the dark floor. The color scheme was primarily cream and red, and the distinctive dragon and phoenix crest was displayed proudly.
Ngai Kuan-Yin arrived with his entourage only a few minutes after Garin's phone call. The hostess stopped them at the door, chatted briefly, then brought them to Garin's table.
After thanking the hostess, Ngai turned to Garin but didn't sit. "I don't like the way you do business," he stated.
Garin looked up at the man. "You don't have to like it, but you do have to respect it." He turned a hand toward a chair. "Have a seat. You're going to look foolish eating soup while standing."
"I didn't come here to eat," Ngai said.
"No, but by eating you won't draw so much attention."
The late afternoon crowd was sparse, mostly tourists and a handful of businessmen having a late lunch or an early dinner.
Garin smiled. "I'm buying. As an apology for meeting without a proper introduction."
It wasn't much, but it was a gesture to allow Ngai to save face. Usually introductions between two people of power were mitigated through a third party. Garin had purposely skipped that.
Showing obvious reluctance, Ngai sat.
The servers descended upon them, bringing soups and appetizers. They filled glasses with water and with tea.
Ngai's eyes never left Garin's. "What do you want, Mr. Braden?"
"By now you'll have called someone to find out who I am." Garin blew on his soup. "They'll have told you I'm an entrepreneur, and that I also dabble in archaeological collections."
Ngai nodded.
"I know about the belt plaque and I know about the City of Thieves." Garin saw the fear in the man's eyes and knew that Ngai was considering killing him. He thought that it was fair, though. If Garin had had time to get the information on the back of the belt plaque any other way, he'd have killed Ngai.
"Mere fables," Ngai said.
Garin smiled. "Do you think so? You had Suen Shikai killed for the artifact that he held."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ngai said.
"Of course you don't," Garin continued. "A woman killed the men who tortured and murdered Suen Shikai. Do you know who she was?"
"No," Ngai replied.
"She was his daughter," Garin stated.
New light dawned in Ngai's eyes.
"Now you understand why the artifact was not at Suen's home," Garin said.
"Suen left it for her."
Garin smiled again. "It's all about legacies in this country. Everyone is someone else's descendant or ancestor."
"Does she have the artifact Suen protected?"
"I believe so. There's a man named Tse Chu-yu. Do you know him?"
"Of course. He is a very dangerous man to cross," Ngai said.
"You knew he was a friend of Suen."
"I did. I never understood what they saw in each other."
"Both of them are fishermen, and they both loved and lost their wives. Sometimes it doesn't take much to bond people." Garin stared into Ngai's eyes and saw that the man had never bonded with anyone. He'd never had to.
Garin still remembered that cold winter morning his father had told him he would be riding away with Roux, that the old man was going to be his new master. Master, not father. For years they'd ridden together, and every year Roux swore that he would find some home to send him to, some orphanage that would keep him. And every year they kept riding together.
Then Roux had failed Joan of Arc.
Taking a breath, Garin pushed the memories away. He understood bonds between people in a way Ngai never could. He also knew how to take advantage of them.
"The point is, I believe Kelly Swan has the artifact her father protected."
"Where is she?" Ngai asked.
"Somewhere plotting to kill you, I suppose." Garin smirked at Ngai's discomfort.
The head of Ngai's security team leaned in. "That will never happen. Do you understand?"
Garin ignored the security man. "Do you even know who Kelly Swan is?"
Ngai hesitated. "No."
"She's a trained assassin."
Surprise showed in Ngai's eyes.
"She was trained in the United States." Garin stirred his soup. "By the CIA. She was going to be used in the Asian theater. She's an expert with handguns and a sniper rifle, familiar with demolitions. Very, very patient. Evidently even when the man she most wants to kill has murdered her father."
Ngai looked at his chief of security.
The man never took his eyes from Garin, but his face flushed.
"You can't blame your security chief. He wasn't in a position to know something like that," Garin said.
"It is his job."
"You know, I don't think replacing him right this minute is in your best interests." Garin turned his attention to the soup again.
"What would be in my best interests, Mr. Braden?" Ngai asked.
Garin mentally rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He loved making offers that couldn't be refused. "You make me your partner. For a percentage of the treasure."
"That's unacceptable. This treasure is something that my ancestor – "
"Betrayed and killed his friends for." Garin made his voice harsh. "I already know the story. I probably know more of it than you do." He took another spoonful of soup. "I also know that even if you succeed in finding the City of Thieves, which I doubt because you would have by now if you knew the secret, you won't make it past the dangers that lie ahead of you." He paused. "Your ancestor and the other thieves made the way difficult. Only one path will be clear. I know how to get you there."
Ngai remained quiet.
Garin tapped his watch. "Tick tock. While you're sitting there wasting time, another group – someone who has as much information as I do – is closing in to take that treasure away from you." He leaned back in his chair. "What's it going to be? Are you going to waste this excellent meal trying to find a way out of this? Or do we have a deal?"