Tell Me No Lies (31 page)

"Are these on consignment?" Catlin asked casually, flicking three of the bronzes with his fingertip. Two of the three he indicated were the ones Lindsay had subtly rejected.

"No."

To Lindsay, the bare word was like a red flag thrown among the previous Mandarin effusions. If those two bronzes turned out to be false, it would be Wu who suffered, not the former owner, for Wu had bought the bronzes rather than simply accepting a brokerage fee for selling them. Miserably she wished that she had been born with any other talent than that of discerning genuine from false. She didn't want to have to be the one to tell Wu that he had spent thousands and thousands of dollars on two bronzes that weren't worth anything but a small curiosity value as part of a scholarly exhibit on frauds.

"If you will excuse me," murmured Wu, "my unworthy presence is required elsewhere for a short time. Please stay and bask in the reflected glory of China's ancestral greatness. If any of these honorable and humble vessels pleases your discriminating eye, I will be most grateful to discuss a possible transference into your keeping."

Catlin lifted his hand indifferently, letting Lindsay take care of the polite protestations of unworthiness and gratitude. As the door shut behind Wu, Catlin's arm snaked out and pulled Lindsay very tightly to his body. His lips nuzzled hers, making speech impossible. When he was certain that he had her attention, he nibbled his way to her ear.

"Wired for sound."

The words were barely audible, but Lindsay caught their meaning very quickly. She eased her fingers into Catlin's hair and rubbed her cheek against his.

"Here?" she murmured, smiling slowly, acting as though he had just whispered a deliriously provocative invitation in her ear, "I don't think so, darling."

"Trust me," he shot back, his arms tightening around her warningly.

Her eyes were very dark as they searched his. "All right," she whispered.

Catlin went very still for an instant before he released Lindsay. "In that case, honey cat, I'll wait," He turned toward the bronzes but all he saw for a moment was the soft invitation of Lindsay's parted lips. Blood beat hotly, pouring through his body in primal rhythms of hunger and sensuality. When he spoke again his voice was rough with restraint. "I want this," he said, indicating the mirror. "And these."

Unhappily, Lindsay looked at the two pieces resting beneath Catlin's light touch. The eighth and ninth bronzes. The frauds.

"The mirror is superb," she said softly. "Have you considered this one?" she asked, passing over the bronzes until she came to the food dish that had caught her eye. "It's – "

"No," Catlin said savagely, interrupting her. "The three I pointed out." His eyes narrowed. "What's the matter? Don't you like these two?"

Lindsay closed her eyes. "No," she said, her voice thin. "I'm afraid they're not what they seem."

Catlin turned and studied the suspect bronzes for a long time. "I see." His laugh was soft, but there was no humor in it. "So your old mentor got stung. Badly."

With puzzled eyes Lindsay watched Catlin, She didn't know what was going on, but she sensed very clearly that Catlin was playing to a hidden audience – or thought he was.

"I'm afraid so."

"No problem," Catlin said, shrugging. "If they're fake, they're so good that I'll bet only three people know – the forger, you and me. With your reputation, all you have to do is say that those bronzes are kosher. Presto. Two kosher bronzes. If the forger ever finds out, he sure as hell won't complain."

"Are you suggesting that – "

Impatiently, Catlin cut across Lindsay's instinctive protest. "I want those two bronzes. They fit a gap in my collection I thought would never get filled. If I buy them, my whole collection damn near doubles in value. Besides, everyone makes mistakes. Even you. So just give these beauties the benefit of the doubt and put your stamp of approval on them."

"No," Lindsay said tightly. "Anything else you want but not that. I won't lie about the bronzes. Don't you see? I can't! Bronzes are my life! Don't ask me to – " Her voice broke as she searched his cheerless eyes, "Catlin?"

With a very male smile, Catlin pulled Lindsay against the length of his body. "I'm your life now, honey cat." He kissed her almost roughly before he buried his lips in her hair. "Don't give in," he breathed. As he lifted his head he said clearly, "And I want those bronzes."

"Then buy them yourself," Lindsay retorted, her voice strained by conflicting currents of confusion, anger and relief.

"No. If you buy them for me, everyone will know that they're genuine."

"Catlin, I won't do it. Not even for you. And if you cared at all for me you wouldn't ask me to compromise myself that way!"

Lindsay's low, shaking words traveled to every comer of the room. Catlin let the silence gather for several moments before he swore explosively and rocked her in his arms.

"Hell, honey, don't get upset. I was just trying to improve my collection and do Wu a favor at the same time. You know he's going to take a bath on those two pieces."

Numbly Lindsay nodded. "I know. But it's got to be that way," she said. "And I've got to be the one to tell him. He would be mortified if anyone else knew that he had inadvertently sold fraudulent bronzes to his longtime customers. Maybe – maybe Wu will be able to recoup at least part of the money from the man who sold him the bronzes in the first place."

"Not likely," Catlin said succinctly. "Caveat emptor."

"Yes." The word came out as an unhappy sigh.

Catlin looked covetously at the eighth and ninth bronzes again. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice harsh.

"I won't lie about – "

"I know, I know," he interrupted. "What I meant was are you sure that they're fake?"

"As sure as I can be without a lab test."

"You want to spend a little more time looking at them?"

Lindsay shrugged and went to the two bronzes. As she picked them up in turn, Catlin noted her tiny signs of distaste, the almost invisible tightening of her lips as though it were all she could do not to snarl at the three-dimensional lies. She didn't handle them carelessly, but there was none of the reverent, almost caressing quality in her touch that Catlin had first noticed through a one-way mirror in Washington.

"They're quite well made," she said grudgingly.

"Like the dragon last night?"

She gave him a startled look. "Yes and no. That is, the actual bronze craftsmanship is excellent in both cases, but the dragon was an original, a unique work of art. I'll bet that these are copies of originals hidden away in someone's very private collection."

Catlin grunted. "Wonder how many of them have gone out to the market before these two?"

With a frown Lindsay picked up the second suspect bronze. She didn't like to think of Wu being used as a conduit for all-but-undetectable frauds. He was a very proud man. He would lose much face if it were known that he had been so thoroughly fooled.

"I don't know," she said softly. "I'll have to tell him not to buy from this particular source anymore."

Catlin started to say something, then decided against it as the door opened again. One of Wu's assistants came into the room and with many bows and apologies asked for Lindsay to accompany him to the rooms of Mrs. Hsiang. Lindsay listened, answered quickly and turned to Catlin.

"He says that Aunt Tian is ill and would like to see me before we leave. Since she's in bed, I would have to visit her alone," Lindsay added.

"You know I don't like being away from you," said Catlin. It was the truth. He didn't like the idea of Lindsay being beyond the reach of his physical protection.

"This is different," she said firmly. When she saw that he was going to object, she added, "Catlin, this woman practically raised me when I came to San Francisco. It would be unforgivable not to see her if she requests it."

Catlin suspected that it was Wu who wanted Lindsay alone, not his wife. But there was no way to point that out at the moment, so Catlin shrugged and gave in.

"If you're gone more than ten minutes, I'm going hunting for you," he said, his voice teasing and his eyes as hard as amber crystal. "Understand me?"

Memories of the brief, vicious fight in the elevator swept over Lindsay. She swallowed suddenly. "Yes," she said in a husky voice. "I understand. I won't be long, darling."

Catlin pulled her close for a quick, hard kiss. "Don't let me down," he whispered urgently. Then he added very clearly as he released her, "Ten minutes and counting."

Even as the door shut behind Lindsay, she glanced at her watch. She had no doubt that Catlin had meant every word. She followed the silent assistant to private quarters that took up the third and fourth story of Wu's building. The assistant opened a door for her, bowed, and gestured her into a room. The door closed behind her with an almost soundless click.

There was no one in the room but Wu. Before Lindsay could speak her surprise, he pointed toward a chair.

"Sit, daughter," he said in clipped English. "I would speak to you as your father would speak if he were still alive. I am a man who is older and wiser than you, a man who has some small reputation for sagacity and discrimination, and a man who has seen much more of the world and of the kinds of men who inhabit it than you have.''

With a sinking heart Lindsay lowered herself into the bare wooden chair, bowed her head and prepared to hear an unpleasant lecture from a man she respected and loved as a second father. She wanted to defend herself but knew she could not. There was nothing she could do but endure the well-meant words.

"Yes, honorable Uncle Wu," she said softly. "I know you are a man both wise and generous. You have always been kind to me, most revered uncle."

There was a charged silence as Lindsay's indirect plea for mercy registered on Wu. The stern look on his face didn't soften, nor did the ice in his voice melt.

"What are you doing with dog spittle such as Jacques-Pierre Rousseau?" demanded Wu.

Lindsay's head snapped up in surprise. "Who?"

There was another moment of silence while Wu measured Lindsay's honest shock. "It is as I feared," he muttered. "You do not even know the true nature of the dishonorable dog whose hands travel over you with the confidence of a husband's."

Dazed, Lindsay could only stare at Wu.

"Ah, foolish daughter," he said, sighing harshly. "You have been blinded by lust. The man you know as Jacob MacArthur Catlin is really Jacques-Pierre Rousseau. He is not fit to carry your night soil to the kitchen garden."

"Uncle Wu – "

"Silence! Do you have so little respect for the man who has called you daughter that you would interrupt him as though he were no more than a quacking duck?"

"Forgive me," whispered Lindsay. Her interlaced fingers tightened until her knuckles were white. "Forgive me, honorable Uncle Wu. I meant no – "

"What you meant or did not mean does not change what is," he interrupted coldly. "You have become the whore of a man who was known throughout Asia for many terrible acts, but most of all for the buying and selling of lives using opium as currency."

Lindsay made a choked sound of disbelief. She wanted to speak, to defend herself, yet knew that if she protested she would only anger Wu more. And he sounded so certain, so absolutely and unalterably confident. She tried not to think of Bradford Stone, who distrusted Catlin, and Chen Yi, who had hired Catlin. Chen Yi, who apparently did not have the trust of his own comrades.

"Rousseau profited greatly from his immorality, as such men always do for a tune," Wu continued, not knowing that his words were swirling around Lindsay like the wind, sound without meaning. "His power grew enormously. People came to him to kowtow and pay tribute. Part of that tribute went into acquiring a collection of ancient bronzes." Grudgingly Wu added, "He had a fine eye for value. He was also known from Hong Kong to the Golden Triangle for being as ruthless as Emperor Qin himself. He dealt very harshly with people who brought less to him than they had promised, whether it was information, bronzes or opium. No one who cheated Rousseau survived to cheat him again."

Lindsay's head came up as her eyes searched Wu's closed, harsh face. She saw only his belief in the words he was speaking.

"His name is Jacob MacArthur Catlin," she said desperately, but even as she spoke, doubt was spreading through her. Wu was so certain, his eyes blazing with contempt, his words cutting through her. Stone had been the same way, so certain that something was very wrong with Catlin. All those missing years. Was that what he had done? Had he gone renegade and lived as a gangster in a land torn by intrigue and violence? "His name is Catlin!"

"His name is Satan," hissed Wu. "He is corrupt. He has corrupted others. Do not let him corrupt you. Tell him that you will see him no more. Tell him in Mandarin, daughter. It is a language he speaks as well as I do!"

For an instant Lindsay thought of confessing, of admitting that she and Catlin weren't lovers, that she still had maintained the high principles of her childhood. The words were crowding into her mouth when other words came to her, Catlin's words: It's the people you respect who will tear the guts out of you. You have to deceive them, too. All of them. All the way to the wall. No hedging, no flinching, no secret winks, no hand signals. And no exceptions. She also remembered his urgent warning just a few moments before: Don't let me down.

Lindsay knew that the act transcended what Catlin was or was not, what he had been or had not been. She had volunteered for this charade. Now she must play it as she had agreed to; as Stone had asked her to; as she had promised Chen Yi she would, and Catlin, her tour guide in hell.

"I can't do that," she whispered, not knowing whether her words were for Wu or Catlin or herself.

Wu had no such doubts. "Are you so besotted with his sexuality that you have no honor? Do you want to become one more in the multitude of foolish, immoral women he has used as whores, taking information from them and then sending them into the alleys to suck more information from other men? He paid them in opium and sex, and when they were too diseased to be of any further use he gutted them like fish."