Meaner Things (12 page)

“Very unreasonable of her.”

Zheng smiled, but there was no humour in it. “You would do well not to imitate her obtuse ways.” He clapped his hands and the two girls disappeared.

It was now that I made a big mistake. “Unfortunately she seems not to agree with your business interests,” I said.

Zheng’s face flushed red. “Yet she was happy to enjoy its benefits. Let me explain it very simply,” he said, raising his voice, “What do you think my wealth is based on, Mr. Malone?”

Lots
of
Jennies
and
Suzies
came to mind. Instead I said, “Imports, isn’t it?”

“And do you know what I import?”

Again, I stifled the urge to say
lots
of
Jennies
and
Suzies
. “Emma mentioned something about diamonds.”

“That is correct, Mr. Malone.”

I knew a bit about diamonds from my jewellery store days and was intrigued. I had to be careful not to provoke him any further but I wanted to keep him talking if I could. I decided to go the flattery route.

“She said you’d conquered the Western Canadian market.”

Zheng blinked. “You mock me, Malone. But in reality my building downtown houses the Vancouver diamond trade. My vault there contains many thousands of raw and cut diamonds. Do you know anything about them?”

“I used to.”

“Then I will refresh your memory.”

Zheng rose and went to a gilt-framed painting on the wall. He held the edge of the frame and pulled it outwards on a hinge. There was a small steel-grey safe behind it. He moved a central dial left and right several times and opened the safe door. Inside it looked empty, but he took out a small blue packet and brought it over to the table in front of me. He unwrapped what looked like greaseproof paper and revealed about thirty variously coloured, gleaming cut diamonds.

“These are just a few fancies I’ve been collecting,” he said. “Pretty, aren’t they?”

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off them, caught up in that well known hypnotic effect that diamonds possess. What I was looking at had to be worth seven or eight figures.

“Sadly, I am unable to display these. You see, some fools call these blood diamonds.”

So that was it, Zheng was illegally trading in conflict diamonds from Third World war zones. Warlords sold them to buy arms and fund their terrorist activities. Profits from trading such illicit diamonds are in the billions and Zheng was cashing in. No doubt what he was showing me was funding a civil war in some African country.

“I can see you desire them as much as the next man,” he replied. “Unfortunately these beautiful objects are strictly regulated in this already over-regulated country. I do not like that. So I’ve done something about it, something my interfering wife discovered with her prying.” He refolded the package and placed it back in the safe, spun the dial and pushed back the picture frame.

He took his seat in front of me and sighed. “And that, Mr. Malone, is the reason she wants to betray me. No doubt she told you what it was?”

“No, not at all,” I replied.

I could see immediately that he didn’t believe me. He kept silent for several seconds, giving me a cold, evaluating stare. When he finally spoke, it blew my mind.

“How many diamonds do you think a human body can contain, Mr. Malone?”

For once, I was completely speechless, truly baffled.

“Up to ten thousand diamonds per girl,” Zheng continued, “Fifteen hundred carats. Close to half a million dollars.”

Suddenly light dawned, and it finally came to me. He must be using girls like Jenny and Suzy as ‘mules’, smuggling diamonds inside their body cavities. Then, as soon as they delivered the goods, they were sold off to pimps.

“You look surprised, Mr. Malone.”

“You could say that.”

“Can my wife really have kept this from you? I don’t believe it.”

“Maybe you’ve made a mistake telling me all this.”

“If you had hesitated to do her bidding, she would have told you everything soon enough.”

I looked at Wark and took my courage in both hands. “What if she and I go to the police with this information?”

He found that amusing, tilting his head back and emitting a weird falsetto laugh. “You think she would not have done so already? No-one would believe either of you, of course. I have many friends in this city, including the police.”

I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

Suddenly he was serious again. “Emma was nothing before I created her, just a bankrupt little accountant with stars in her eyes. I will never allow her to reject me. She is mine to keep until I grow tired of her.” There was now a real threat in his voice. “If you lift one little finger against me, I will utterly crush you. If you see her again, I will crush you. You are a powerless nobody and will remain one.”

Normally I’d have responded to a threat like that with a few choice swearwords, but in my present situation I simply nodded.

“I hope you have enjoyed this evening’s little drama as much as I have,” Zheng concluded. He looked behind me and made a motion of his head. The next thing I knew Wark clamped his hands on my shoulders.

“Take him home as per my instructions,” Zheng said, now perfectly calm again. “Convince him of my seriousness. Do it well.”

“I’ll enjoy that, boss,” Wark said.

*

I won’t belabour the rest of the evening’s events. They’re a bit of a blur to me anyway.

Wark took me out to the garage and bundled me into the back of the BMW. I heard the doors click and when I tried the one on my side it was locked. There was glass between him and me and all I saw was the back of his ugly head for the next thirty minutes. He crossed the Lions Gate Bridge at breakneck speed and kept it up through Stanley Park and on into downtown. I was hoping a traffic cop would pull us over, then, peering forward, noticed a black rectangular box attached to the dashboard: a speed-radar detector. Charlie had fitted a homemade version to his old rust bucket even though, God knows, it could barely do over sixty.

I mulled over Zheng and Wark’s ominous last exchange as we wove our way through downtown. By the time we crossed Cambie Bridge and got up the hill to Fourteenth it was dark and I was dreading something really bad happening at the end of the ride.

I was right about that.

We went down an alley near my humble abode and Wark pulled up tight against a wall at a spot where there was no street lighting. If the door hadn’t been locked I’d have made a run for it there and then. But he got out first, the door clicked open, and I never had a chance.

He dragged me out by the hair and his first punch went straight into the crown jewels. I doubled over in agony and three or four more punches rained down on the back of my head. By now I was on my knees and another big haymaker to the temple had me stretched prone on the ground. Then the kicking started. I remember a particularly painful one right in the ear.

In less than a minute I’d experienced more pain than I had in my entire life before then. I have no doubt that Wark was thoroughly enjoying his work, but he must have been under orders not to break any bones or do permanent damage. The next thing I knew he picked me up and hoisted me above his head, impressively one handed.

“If you ever interfere again, you little shit-bag, you’ll end up in a wheelchair.”

With his free hand he lifted a dumpster lid and I guessed what was coming.

It was the second time in my life that I’d been in a garbage bin and I liked it even less than the first. I heard the car drive off and felt sticky liquid dripping from my damaged ear. Then I must have passed out.

*

Eventually I fumbled my cell phone out of my pants pocket and called Charlie. He arrived a few minutes later, fished me out of the dumpster and bundled me into his car.

“Take me to your place,” I said.

“Sure you don’t want Emergency? It’s only two minutes away,” he asked.

“Nope. Nothing broken, just really sore all over. That gorilla knew what he was doing.”

I gave him the gist of what happened.

He whistled in surprise. “I guess you’ve been well and truly warned off,” he said.

I thought about that for several minutes as we drove to his place. I thought about the Jennies and Suzies, and about ten thousand diamonds in a young girl’s body. And about what came after for those young girls.

“Actually, I’m not warned off, no. Remember what we were talking about?”

“Yup.”

“I’ve just changed my mind about that. Got a better idea. I’m going to get my revenge on that crooked bastard and free Emma from him at the same time.”

“How?”

“The only way I know. You’re going to help me. You’re going to get rich doing it, and you’re going to feel good about it too.”

LINE

11.

TROJAN HORSE

I woke up in Charlie’s spare bedroom the next morning, stiff and sore, bruises all over my body, and a giant cauliflower where my left ear used to be. After a long soak in the bathtub I examined the ear and decided that, now that I’d washed the encrusted blood off, it looked a lot better. In a day or so, when the swelling went down, it would look better still. I shaved, pulled on my clothes and went to find Charlie.

I found him in the garage, messing around with some electronic bits and bobs. He looked up as I came in.

“Good morning, soldier,” he said cheerily. “There’s hot coffee in the kitchen if you want some.”

“Later,” I replied, remembering Charlie’s coffee.

He put down the screwdriver he was holding and his face became serious.

“We need to talk,” he said.

I nodded. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

He raised a flat palm. “Wait; let’s go to the kitchen first. I need coffee even if you don’t.”

“OK,” I replied, “But I insist on a fresh brew.”

I got to the kitchen ahead of him and tossed the oily looking contents of the coffee carafe down the sink before he could protest. I boiled some fresh water and made two mugs of Nescafé instant. It actually wasn’t too bad. As we drank I filled him in on the details of what Zheng knew about Emma and me, and how I suspected he knew it.

“You have to let Emma know about this,” he said.

“How? I can’t call her if I’m right about Zheng listening in.”

Charlie thought for a moment, as if figuring it out. “I’ll FedEx her a prepaid cell phone, with a gift message from you. She can get it in a few hours. Then you can call her on it.”

“Can you afford that?” I asked, “’Cause I can’t.”

“No problem, I’m flush at the moment. Don’t ask how.”

“I won’t,” I replied, grinning.

*

There was a bench seat in the back of the 1967 Dodge A100 van, but nothing to hold on to. So, for the whole of the ride downtown I swayed from side to side, struggling not to fall over every time Charlie turned a corner. My bruises and aches screamed in protest.

This was just one of three vehicles in Charlie’s garage, crammed in beside the workbench, tool cupboards, and piles of old tyres. One of his many ongoing projects, the van retained its original sky blue paintwork, the roof white. It didn’t look much like the sort of workman’s van around today, but at least it wasn’t rusted away like his 1978 Buick Regal. It would have to do, and hopefully no-one would be looking at it too closely.

“What’s taking so long?” I protested loudly, hoping that Charlie could hear me up front. We seemed to be inching along in tiny spurts.

“It’s West Georgia,” he replied, “A main arterial route in and out of the city, in case you forgot. The traffic here is lethal.”

He was right. There’d always be some traffic on this street, both day and night. I filed that fact carefully in the back of my mind for future reference.

“Alberni,” Charlie said from the driver’s seat. He pulled into the underground garage driveway beneath Emma’s building.

‘Nine-zero-two,” I reminded him.

He punched the numbers into the garage intercom and I heard Emma’s voice at the other end.

“Yes?”

“Carpet cleaners,” Charlie called out loudly.

“I’ll buzz you into the parkade,” I heard Emma reply. “Park in the rotunda area at the front of it. I’ll be down in a minute.”

So far, so good.

Charlie eased into the parkade, the gates behind us closed with a well-oiled
whirr
and a minute later I emerged from the back of the van. We were in a small parking area containing about half-a-dozen parking spots, each one labelled ‘Visitor’. Another gate further in led to the parkade proper, where the residents parked their BMWs and SUVs. The two gates gave them double security. I liked it.

She came down to meet us and let us in to the building. We’d had to keep the call as brief as possible, so there hadn’t been time to tell her the whole story. I was wearing an old pair of Charlie’s overalls but was walking stiffly due to the injuries, and of course the ear was visible. She noticed it immediately, rushed up and gave me a tight hug. I tried hard not to wince.

“Who did this?” she asked.

“Wark,” I replied. “We’ll talk about it later. First we have to debug your suite.”

She nodded and we went up the elevator to her floor, Charlie hauling a heavy bag of equipment. I stopped at her door and leaned close to her.

“I can’t go in yet, in case there’s a hidden camera. Charlie will block anything that’s spying on you. Then he’ll find it and dispose of it. Once I get his ‘all clear’ I can go in.”

“OK.”

Charlie took a bulky electronic gizmo resembling a Geiger counter out of his bag and switched it on. “Let’s get to work,” he said.

They disappeared behind the door and I hung around in the little foyer outside her suite. Half an hour passed and I began to get restless. I knocked gently on the door, a gap opened and Emma looked out.

“He’s still working at it,” she said.

“Found much?”

“He won’t tell me; won’t even let me in the same room.”

I grinned. That sounded like Charlie. “I’m thirsty,” I said.

“I’ll get you some water.”

She came back a minute later, gave me a bottle of Evian, and closed the door. I drank away at the water and another thirty minutes passed.

At last the door opened again.

“All clear,” Charlie said.

I went in and he showed me two little electronic bugs, one from behind the Alex Colville painting, the other from a bedside lamp.

“The one I took from the painting is actually a camera,” he enthused, “Very sophisticated. The one from the bedroom is just audio.”

“Thank goodness it wasn’t the other way around,” Emma said with obvious relief.

I didn’t want to think about what she meant by that. “Now call a locksmith and have the locks changed,” I said to her, “Don’t leave here until they’re changed.”

“I’ve just called them,” she said. They’ll be here in a couple of hours.”

“Good. Now we need to talk.” I started towards the living room.

“Wait,” Charlie said, “Emma should close the blinds over that big window. Zheng might have someone in another building with a telescope or binoculars.”

I thought of Wark and nodded to Emma. She closed several blinds until the entire curved wall of windows was obscured. We sat in easy chairs and Emma brought more water.

“Better,” said Charlie, looking around but evidently now satisfied.

I took a deep breath and explained to both of them what had happened at Zheng’s house last night. It took a while and I didn’t spare the details, even though it must have embarrassed Emma.

“Wow,” Charlie murmured, “Zheng really opened up, eh? Trafficking young girls
and
using them as diamond mules. What an evil bastard.” He glanced guiltily at Emma, who made no response. “Can’t you turn him in?” he added, looking now at me.

I shook my head. “He’s a total shit. But he’s a smart, very powerful, very rich one.”

Charlie saw my point. “One law for the rich, another for you and me.”

“Exactly. Going to the authorities would just get us in trouble. Our only hope of bringing him down is to do it ourselves, Emma and me.” I paused. “What I need to know Charlie, is will you help us?”

“What do you have in mind?” he replied, “You and I do Zheng’s house, is that it?”

I shook my head. “No. It’s much bigger and harder than that.”

Charlie’s eyes visibly widened. “This I gotta hear,” he said softly.

I explained to them the outline of my plan to bring Zheng to his knees, emphasising how it necessitated going for his building downtown, where all his real wealth lay, rather than his home in West Van. At first Charlie looked dubious, but quickly changed once I explained that the Zheng Building was a public office complex and therefore would be
easier
to infiltrate than his high-tech, high security mansion. As Charlie listened, his little coal black eyes began to glow with excitement. Obviously the prospect of acquiring millions of dollars-worth of untraceable diamonds had a deep appeal for my friend.

“Emma, how do you feel about it?” I needed her one hundred per cent on side too.

“I
will
get the divorce,” she said, “He can’t stop it forever. But there’s no way around the prenuptial. If I’m to get anything at all I’ll need leverage.”

“That had occurred to me too,” I replied. “There has to be documentation of what he’s up to, and there’d be no safer place for him to keep it than in his high security vault. If I can pull this off, you’ll have all the leverage you need.”

She looked thoughtful. “Then I’m in,” she said, “And not just for selfish reasons. I’m in because Jonathan Zheng needs to be put out of the human trafficking and blood diamond businesses.” She shrugged, then slowly grinned. “And because I think you
can
pull it off.”

I was pleased to see that she was confident that I could do it. But I wanted to be cautious about involving her. We agreed that her role would be to keep her eyes and ears open, find out any new information she could about Zheng’s habits, and cover operational expenses. Otherwise she’d take a backseat. Charlie and I would actually perform the heist.

I could tell that Charlie was happy with that arrangement. He was our locks and electronics expert and would construct the hardware we would need to infiltrate the building and crack the vault. There would be plenty of that to be getting on with once we’d acquired the necessary information.

To get that information, we’d need to have regular legitimate access inside the Zheng Building downtown. Charlie would never pass for a business executive; his application for tenancy of the building would have aroused immediate suspicion. So that meant I would take the upfront role. Zheng knew what I looked like and, for all I knew, had my image on a security database somewhere. Hence, I’d need an alias and a disguise.

“Are we crazy?” Emma said at the end, looking at me. I saw hope, perhaps pride, but also fear in her eyes.

“Not at all,” I replied with more bravado that I felt. “It’ll be a walk in the park.”

*

I looked up at the dull grey façade of the high-rise building in front of me. It was dwarfed by even taller ones around it, their brilliant plate glass windows reflecting opposing structures like a giant hall of mirrors. By comparison, this building seemed a relic of the past, the one home on the block that hadn’t been kept up. I prayed that impression was accurate.

A large concrete block in front of the main entrance doors proclaimed the name of the structure in plastic Helvetica letters: Zheng Building. The lettering was slightly askew, a little off true horizontal. A closed-circuit television camera above the front entrance recorded people walking in or out of the building. No doubt it was the first of many. A few more steps and I’d be within camera range.

I took a deep breath and tried to relax. It was a grey morning, a slight breeze cooling my face, perhaps the first slight hint of autumn on its way. But, in a few hours’ time, the sun would be high up over even these tall downtown buildings. By then I hoped to have accomplished the first stage of my plan.

If everything went well over the next few weeks, I wouldn’t need to concern myself with cold, dreary winters ever again. I fantasised about spending the coming Christmas in Barbados with Emma. To achieve that, my plans would not just have to go well, they would have to go perfectly.

I was wearing a pair of black-framed, non-prescription glasses that Charlie had given me, plus a short blonde wig for men picked out by Emma. I’d worn them inside the apartment for the last four or five days, to get thoroughly used to how they felt on me. They still felt false, obvious, silly. Emma and Charlie assured me that they were none of those things. I was also wearing a five-hundred dollar suit, one of two that Emma had bought me from a Robson Street tailor. Though I hated the feel of one around my neck, I even had three fifty-dollar ties to go with the suits, and half-a-dozen expensive white shirts from Hudson Bay. It was essential that I looked the part.

Acting it would be the hard bit. I pulled a few strands of blonde hair down over the top of my left ear to hide one of Wark’s cuts that hadn’t fully healed yet. When I breathed deeply I felt a sharp pain in my ribcage and I still had multiple bruises that the suit and tie conveniently hid. Emma had wanted me to wait and get completely better before triggering my plan, but I was tired of moping around the apartment and eager to get started.

I straightened my shoulders, gripped my black leather briefcase a little tighter, and tried to get into my role.
Act
like
you
own
the
place
, Charlie had said.

I fully intended to own the place, or at least everything of value in it.