Heart of Lies (22 page)

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Authors: M. L. Malcolm

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BOOK: Heart of Lies
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Now Amelia was trying to help him, just as the Countess had tried to help him so long ago, when she’d warned him not to go back to the villa on the night Károly murdered Erzsebet and József. His anger ebbed away. When he spoke his voice was dull with resignation.

“I’ll take you up on your generous offer. But we can’t celebrate prematurely. Are you sure I can get into the country?”

Amelia stood up and straightened her skirt, subduing the exhilaration she felt.

“We can be married in two days. Spouses of American citizens are being given immediate permission to enter the States in light of the crisis here. All we need to do is show up with your passport and our marriage license.” She stood before him, meekly waiting for him to tell her what to do.

Leo rubbed his hands across his unshaven face. He must salvage a life for his daughter.

“No one can know I’m leaving. I have my reasons. Can we get married just before we board the ship?”

“Of course.”

Leo stood up. He looked drained. “Amelia, I don’t want Maddy to know about our marriage until the absolute last minute. As you can readily understand, she may not take it well. Please be patient. And, thank you.”

Amelia managed to keep her smile small and humble.

Later that day, Leo placed a call to Tokyo and contacted a wealthy Japanese client of the Commerce Bank who’d once mentioned how much he wanted to relocate to Shanghai. Life in Japan under the new military regime was becoming too Spartan, too restricted, he’d complained. Even jazz music had been outlawed. Shanghai glittered across the China Sea like a pulsating, decadent oasis. Now Leo offered to sell the man his own glorious Georgian manor, with all its furnishings, at a very reasonable price. Rejoicing over his good luck, the client agreed to wire the funds directly to a specific bank in New York, and made plans to move to Shanghai the moment the Chinese retreated from the city.

Leo knew that by selling his house he was taking a chance, for it gave Liu the opportunity to discover that he planned to leave. But Leo did not want to rely on Amelia for money, and his home was his most significant asset. He was counting on the fact that Liu would be preoccupied by the war, and that hostilities between Japan and China would necessarily limit Liu’s contacts with the Japanese. Things were not
going well for Liu’s friend, General Chiang. Under the circumstances, Leo hoped the gangster wouldn’t discover that one of his minions was planning to escape.

He waited until the morning of their scheduled departure to go to the bank and wire the remainder of his savings to his new bank account in New York. He executed the transaction himself, then went upstairs to his private office, to empty the small vault containing Martha’s jewelry and their passports.

Once in his office, Leo locked the door, then squatted on the floor behind his desk and tossed back the rug covering the safe. He opened the steel door and started to transfer the boxes containing Martha’s jewelry to a briefcase. Here was the string of pearls he had bought her for her thirtieth birthday, and the emerald set he had given her one Christmas. Then came the Art Deco bracelet, studded with onyx and tiny diamonds. Each jewel glinted with painful memories. He tried not to think about the childlike joy with which Martha had received each present, or how each piece had looked against the soft marvel of her skin. His hands began to shake.

The safe was now empty. Still overcome by his grief, it took him a moment to realize what was wrong. The passports. The passports were not there.

Leo groaned. He slammed the door of the small safe shut. There, along the outside edges of the lock, he could see the small holes testifying to where the lock had been drilled.

“Damn.” He slammed the side of his fist against the metal door. His hand vibrated with pain from the harsh contact, but his brain paid no attention.

“You filthy son of a bitch,” Leo growled, standing up and shaking
his bruised fist at an imaginary Liu. “You have no power over me now, you bastard. Do you hear me? You can’t thwart a man with nothing left to lose. You’ll give me back those passports or you’ll have to kill me. And then you’ll be doing me a favor, you understand? A favor. If you’d killed me years ago Martha would be alive now.
She’d be alive
.”

A knock on the door brought him to his senses. “What is it?”

“Is everything all right, sir?” a voice inquired. His secretary. She must have heard him.

“Yes. I’m fine. My wife died. Now go away.” He heard the sound of her heels clicking down the hall as she retreated.

He could not give up. There might not be any hope for him, but the one thing he could do for Martha was to try and save their daughter: to get her away from the dangers of the war, and the threat that Liu might ultimately try to use Maddy as leverage over him.

By now it was almost noon. Their ship was due to sail at six. He was to meet Amelia at the Justice of the Peace at two o’clock. Two hours. Two hours to find Liu Tue-Sheng and win his life back. No. Maddy’s life. His life was over. He picked up his briefcase and walked out, back down to the Bund where his car and driver were waiting.

He stopped at his own home for a moment, then proceeded to Liu’s compound. The guard waved his car in, as if he’d been expected. Leo was not surprised. Liu knew him well enough to know that he would come.

This time he was not escorted to Liu’s study. After the anticipated body search the houseboy took him outside to an enormous greenhouse. At the far end of the structure Liu sat in one of two high-backed wicker chairs, surrounded by rare orchids.
Like the snake in the garden of Eden
, thought Leo. In front of Liu a small bamboo table was set for
lunch. A bodyguard kept watch at either end of the glass-enclosed building.

Leo knew he must stay composed. Rude demands would be futile. For all of his Western attributes, Liu still had the soul of a Chinese. Leo could not succeed unless he allowed Liu to lose gracefully. To save face. He had to stick to his plan.

“Good…afternoon,” Liu greeted Leo with his stilted speech.

“Please sit…down.”

Leo forced himself to sit.

“Mr. Liu,” he began, “I believe that you have some property of mine. Some property that I need to retrieve.”

“And what would that be, Mr. Hoffman?”

“My passport. And my wife’s.”

“Ah, your wife. I am so sorry to hear about your wife. A beautiful woman, with a good heart.”

A muscle twitched in Leo’s lower jaw as he fought to control himself. “Thank you. She, of course, will no longer need a passport, but my child is listed on hers.”

Liu raised a thin black eyebrow. “You are planning to leave Shanghai?”

“I think you knew that.”

“Yes. However, from my point of view your departure would be most inconvenient. If General Chiang retreats, as I am afraid he soon will, I shall have to move my operations to Hong Kong. I have already reserved a suite at the Peninsula Hotel there. I could use a man of your talent here, in Shanghai, to help me stay informed. In fact, it would be…essential to many of my business arrangements.”

Leo shook his head. “You don’t need me, Mr. Liu. Shanghai is dying.
There’s no more money to be made here. You and the general must concentrate on winning this war. I’m afraid I’m no longer able to offer you my services. I am resigning my position at the bank.”

“And if I refuse to accept your resignation?”

“Then I will kill you.”

The faintest hint of surprise flickered across Liu’s features. “But of course, you will also die.”

Leo leaned forward. “You can’t kill a man who is already dead. I died when my wife died.”

“But you are unarmed,” Liu pointed out. He remained unruffled. He could have been discussing strategy during a friendly game of chess.

Leo held out his hands, never taking his eyes off Liu’s face. “There are many ways to kill a man. Neither of your bodyguards speak English, and I speak Chinese. If you call to them you’ll be dead before they can reach you.”

“And your daughter?”

Leo twisted his lips into a barren smile. His hands dropped to his knees. “Ah, for my daughter I am willing to gamble.” He paused. He must choose his words carefully.

“You said once that you were a gambling man. This time, I’ll make you a proposition. We’ll play a game of cards.”

“And what do I stand to gain?”

Leo reached into his breast pocket. As he made this motion the two bodyguards approached, poised for action. With a subtle wave of his hand Liu sent them back to their stations.

From his pocket Leo removed the swan he had given Martha as a wedding gift. He placed it on the table.

Liu looked at it impassively. “The swan is pretty, but not much of an incentive, Mr. Hoffman.”

Leo raised his hand over the fragile porcelain trinket. “Appearances can be deceiving.” With one swift motion, he brought his palm down on the swan’s back, crushing it. From the shards and dust of porcelain he removed the last four of the Cartier diamonds. One by one he laid them on the table in front of the gangster.

“I propose that we cut a deck of cards and each draw one. The higher card wins. If I win, you will give me the passports, I will leave Shanghai, and you will keep these diamonds. If you win, I will stay in Shanghai and continue to work for you. But you will, with your usual methods, use the diamonds to arrange for my new American wife to get immediate custody of my daughter, so that she can leave Shanghai on the
President Jefferson
this evening.”

“And if I refuse to play?”

“Then I will kill you. By the time the order to kill me has sprung from your throat, you will be dead.”

“And your daughter will be dead soon afterward.”

Leo flinched. The only way he could protect Maddy was to get her out of Shanghai: away from the bombs, away from the Japanese, away from the clutches of this monster. And the only asset he could use to buy her freedom was himself.

“Another reason for both of us to take this wager, Liu. If you play, you keep something of value: your life. And no matter who pulls the higher card, you win, for you will retain either the diamonds, or my services. And either way I win, for my daughter will get out of Shanghai. But if we do not play, we both die.”

There was a brief moment of silence. In the distance a bird sang out three shrill notes, and was quiet.

“And I suppose, Mr. Hoffman, you brought a deck of cards with you?”

From his pocket Leo silently removed a deck of cards. The seal was unbroken.

A tiny smile touched Liu’s face. “Mr. Hoffman, you never disappoint me. But tell me, what makes you think that I will let you leave this room alive after threatening me, no matter what the outcome of our little game of chance?”

Leo looked Liu in the eyes. “Because you are a man of your word. As am I.”

Liu acknowledged the statement with a slight incline of his chin. “You may shuffle the cards, Mr. Hoffman.”

 

Forty-five minutes later Leo was in the attic of his house, retrieving two large suitcases. He brought one with him into Maddy’s room, where he found her staring out the window, while Wei Lin read her a simple story. He could not tell if Maddy was listening.

Leo excused Wei Lin, then sat down on Maddy’s bed. He held out his arms and she came to him, sitting on his knees and wrapping her fragile arms around his neck. She looked so much like Martha, lying there against his chest, that for a moment Leo thought he would break down again. He waited until he could speak.

“Maddy, we’re leaving Shanghai.”

Maddy looked up at him, struggling to make sense of his words. She had difficulty understanding anything said to her since the explosion. Words floated into her ears and rested there, waiting for her to go back and listen to them later. Later she would hear their echoes, and force herself to understand.

Having grown up in Shanghai, where men picked up dead beggars
off the street every morning and women left unwanted infants out to die every night, Maddy understood death. She understood that death meant gone forever, that dead things did not wake up, and did not come back. But death was something she associated with stray animals, and poverty, and Chinese people. Maddy did not understand why it had happened to her mother. All she knew was that her mother’s presence in the store had been her fault.

She tried again to listen to what her father was saying. “I want you to help me pack,
ma princesse
. You can fill up one big suitcase with your favorites. Clothes and toys. Whatever you like.”

Maddy made no comment. Leo hugged her, then slid her off his lap. When Maddy saw the suitcase she understood.

“Are we coming back?”

He shook his head. “No,
ma princesse.
We’re going to America to live.”

She looked around her room. “Can I bring whatever I want?”

“Yes, Maddy. Anything you want, as long as it fits in this suitcase.”

Maddy walked out of the room. Leo followed her down the hall to the master bedroom. He watched as she strode purposefully to Martha’s dressing table and carefully picked up the wedding picture. A puzzled look crossed her face as she regarded the dresser, searching for something she did not see. She turned to face Leo.

“The swan, Papa. Where has the swan gone?”

Again Leo’s voice caught in his throat. “It flew away,
chérie
. It flew away when Mama died.”

Leo could see Maddy trying to comprehend what he’d said. In a moment she went over to Martha’s lingerie dresser and rummaged
through the top drawer, eventually withdrawing a gray velvet box. With the picture and the box in hand, she walked back over to Leo.

“This is what I want to bring, Papa. It doesn’t matter about the rest.” Hot tears burned the back of Leo’s eyes as he gazed at his daughter, looking up at him so matter-of-factly. Grief crowded every other emotion out of his heart.

After convincing Maddy to put some clothes and a couple of toys in her suitcase, he called all the servants into the foyer. He told them he was leaving, gave each one a small bundle of cash, and assured them that the new owner had agreed to keep them on. He did not know if they would stay to work for a Japanese boss, but he felt he had done his duty.

The ceremony at the Justice of the Peace was brief and sterile. They did not exchange rings, and did not kiss. Amelia knew better than to push her luck.

At six o’clock Leo and Maddy met Amelia on the Bund, at the edge of the wharf where the
President Jefferson
was anchored. A brass band played cheerful American tunes. People surged around the dock, shrieking last minute instructions and receiving farewell hugs, deliberately ignoring the nearby wreckage of the Cathay and Palace Hotels. A long low whistle from the ship signaled the final call to board.

Maddy held tightly to her father’s hand. As the threesome boarded the ship, she did not ask Leo who Amelia was, or why she was there.

The bursar approached them as they stepped on deck. “Passports, please. Tickets. Thank you.”

Amelia handed over the ticket for a first-class cabin, and her passport. Leo handed the officer a passport and an official-looking docu
ment. The man inspected each document in turn, then handed back everything but the tickets.

“I’m sorry, sir, but you will have to say goodbye to your wife and daughter here; we can’t let anyone below deck today.”

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