“Emphatically.”
“Excellent,” Grodescu said, and then Yukying heard what was unmistakably the sound of a man being strangled. Before this moment, she never would have thought herself capable of knowing such a thing, but the gurgling and gasping couldn’t be anything else. She put a hand over her mouth and tried not to listen. After far too long, the noises trailed off, then stopped completely. Yukying shook. Next to her, Shan Dao had balled his hands into fists. She hadn’t expected him to be just as scared as her, but he too was shaking slightly. She put a hand on his arm, and he stopped.
“Burn these,” Grodescu’s voice sounded the same as before he’d strangled a man. “No copies. Check Ming Wu’s house. Burn it down if you have to.”
“Sure, boss,” the Englishman from before said.
“Now, what did you get on the one I asked you about?”
“Shan Dao? Nothin’ much.” Yukying gripped Shan Dao’s arm in alarm as the man continued. “You said he wanted to sell you something?”
“That was his story, yes,” Grodescu said.
“Well, he’s either a great criminal or a terrible one. As far as the paper trail goes, he got into town a few months ago. Found a birth certificate and police record from Paris with small things. Drunk and disorderly, parking tickets, that kind of thing. The usual check on Chinese nationals didn’t find anything except a valid passport, but that doesn’t mean much. Presumably based in Paris, but then why haven’t we heard of him?”
“A very sloppy cover,” Grodescu said dismissively. “Focus on him. Forget the others, they’re unimportant.”
Yukying frowned; that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t Grodescu supposed to have photographs? And weren’t they supposed to be of Tinseng? Was Grodescu looking to find blackmail material about Shan Dao now?
“But you’re sure it’s him? All these Chinese are hard to tell apart, ’specially with their names. My guy had a fuckin’ beast of a time pulling records.”
“Kept forgetting their last name comes first, did he? No matter, I’m sure he did his best,” Grodescu’s disdain curled around the word. “Show me what he brought.”
Yukying and Shan Dao heard the shuffling of files. Occasionally Grodescu asked questions, but for the most part he worked in silence. Finally, he said, “This is sufficient. I believe we have what we need.” A rustle of something. “Follow them onshore only. The ship has too many eyes.”
Oh, that was important—Yukying would be able to tell Tinseng to stay on the ship; they could keep him safe that way. It was a piece of good news among the disturbing confirmation that Grodescu was indeed a killer, not just a blackmailer.
The rest of the conversation moved on to other schemes that had nothing to do with them, but they stayed on the roof waiting until they saw Grodescu leave the house and disappear down the street. Tension crawled up her neck in a way that promised to become an unshakeable migraine tomorrow. She gritted her teeth and ignored it. She didn’t have time to be distracted by pain, not when she needed to think through all they’d heard.
Shan Dao refused to engage in conversation as they took the bus to the post office where Tinseng was camped out. Instead of pleasantries, Shan Dao pulled a spluttering Tinseng by the elbow into the first café they passed. Yukying followed behind, bewildered. Shan Dao needed to be alone with her brother, so she took her time looking at the large deli counter, chatting with the man behind it in English and accepting samples of his favorite meats. When she felt enough time had passed, she ordered on his recommendation a small plate of paper-thin presunto ibérico at an eye-watering price, three ham and cheese sandwiches, and a half bottle of wine with three squat glasses stacked on its neck. She found the other two in the furthest corner of the small café, heads bent low. When she approached, they stopped speaking abruptly and busied themselves helping her with the plates and cups.
“Here,” Tinseng took one of the sandwiches, picked off the ham, then placed the cheese and bread down in front of Shan Dao.
“Oh, I forgot, I’m sorry!” Yukying cried. “Where was my head? I’ll go get something else, I’m so sorry.”
“No need,” he said, taking a bite of a sandwich.
“It’s great, more for me.” Tinseng placed all the ham on his sandwich. “Now,” he said around a huge bite, “Shan Dao said Grodescu said to follow us onshore only?”
“That’s right,” Yukying confirmed.
“Well then, the plan is simple.” Tinseng spread his hands. “I’ll lure him out tonight, and we keep Shan Dao safe on board.”
“No.” Shan Dao’s eyes flashed.
“You’ll slow me down,” Tinseng countered.
“Dangerously individualist thinking,” Shan Dao retorted.
“不失時機.”6
“奮不顧身.”7 Yukying heard Shan Dao’s response as concern, but Tinseng didn’t take it that way, only sitting up straighter.
“舍本逐末.”8
Both Shan Dao and Yukying bristled at Tinseng calling his safety a minor detail. Shan Dao said icily, “不以為恥, 反以為榮.”9
Tinseng’s lip curled. “Ashamed? Never. I draw my sword to help.”
“Tinseng!” Shan Dao snapped harshly.
“J—Shan Dao.” Tinseng made his lover’s name sound like a curse. Yukying had heard enough.
“Both of you! 化干戈為玉帛.”10 She could play their game if she had to, and she knew how to win. She set down the wine she’d been pouring. “Look at you both, fighting at a time like this. Do you want to speak in anger with him out there? Now drink your wine,” she demanded, setting down glasses in front of them.
If it had been her brothers, they would have avoided each other’s gazes and focused solely on her, leaning on her to solve their problem. Tinseng did the opposite with Shan Dao, placing a hand on his arm in apology.
“You help too much,” Shan Dao said, but warily now.
“I help just enough,” Tinseng replied. “Besides, I plan to bring Chiboon and Cheuk-Kwan.”
“More innocents in the crossfire?”
“Witnesses. Barcelona isn’t Torremolinos; there will be plenty of options. And now we know there are no copies. We just have to wait one more day until Villefranche. That’s where he meets his buyer, and we’ll be waiting.”
Tinseng must have forgotten that Yukying hadn’t heard this part of the plan before. He was forgetful like that, careless in some ways. That was how she’d first learned his secret, after all. She didn’t draw attention to it now, acting as though she’d known all along.
“Then you’ll buy it from him?” she asked.
