The Interior - Страница 48

Next to Hulan, Peanut sucked air in through her teeth.

"So now you have sex with the manager to get back at the one you love." Hulan eased her voice over her words, erasing anything that might be taken for judgment.

"No, I let the manager put his organ in me so I can get promoted and make more money. The only way Tsai Bing and I will ever be together is if we leave Da Shui Village. The only way that will ever happen is if we have money." Siang brought her shoulder up so she could wipe away a tear. "A night or two with a foreigner is a small price for a lifetime."

But looking at Siang, whose toughness was as thin as a sheet of gold leaf, it seemed a very high price.

The morning wore on. The temperature in the room quickly rose over a stultifying forty degrees centigrade. Around them conversation dwindled to nothing as the heat and humidity drained the last bit of energy from the women who had already worked more than fifty-six hours this week. Hulan welcomed the relative silence from human voices. She had asked as many questions as she could today without drawing excessive attention to herself. Peanut's queries about what Hulan was doing here only reminded her of how transparent her mission was becoming. Similarly, she could not continue her conversation with Siang. The girl had shut herself off, working with her head bent and her shoulders slouched except for those times when Aaron Rodgers swung by on his rounds and she plastered a fake smile on her face.

Hulan-her hands bandaged, her stomach queasy, her shoulders aching, her head pounding from the heat and noise from the machines- made her mind focus on the enigma of Ling Miaoshan. Last night Guy Lin hadn't mentioned anything about a strike. Would Miaoshan have kept that information from him? Could Miaoshan have thought up the idea of a strike by herself? Could she have then moved forward, organizing, cajoling, frightening her fellow workers into following her without outside help? And if someone had helped her, who and why? Maybe this someone hadn't helped her at all. Maybe he-and knowing what she did about Miaoshan, Hulan had no doubts that it would be a he-had used her as a way to foment unrest for some reason that wasn't yet clear.

As Hulan circled around these ideas, she kept coming back to Miaoshan's promiscuity. To use the coarse words of the local Public Security captain, it seemed true that Miaoshan had spread her legs for any man with a beating heart. From the beginning of time there had been women who had used sex as a method of survival, as a way of getting what they wanted, as a means to an end. But also from the beginning of time there had been women who had been victimized, used, and tossed aside when their novelty wore off or they became diseased or old. Was Miaoshan the manipulator or the manipulated?

David's first obligation was to speak to Randall Craig. At seven, he called the hotel operator for Randall's room number, but was told that Mr. Craig hadn't checked in until late last night and had asked that no calls be put through. At eight, he tried again. Randall Craig picked up on the first ring. David asked if they might have breakfast together. Ten minutes later, David was in Randall's spacious suite with a view overlooking South Xinjian Road. David had a duty to tell Randall about the problems that could be of concern to Tartan Incorporated. At the same time, David needed to protect his other client, Sun Gan. If David believed Sun was innocent-and the simplicity of the code more than anything made that a strong possibility-then he had to try to flesh out the truth to help the governor.

By the time the continental breakfast arrived, David had run through his concerns about the sale, outlining the alleged dangers on the factory floor, the use of child labor, and-without using names-the possibility that bribery had occurred.

Randall Craig listened patiently, occasionally taking sips of coffee or breaking off a piece of croissant. When David finished, Randall said, "Why hasn't this shown up in the reports?"

"I don't know," David answered.

"Well, look, the due diligence was already done by your predecessor. I'm willing to stand by Keith's reports."

"But they're wrong. If this information-any of it-comes out, then Tartan will be exposed to various lawsuits, not to mention criminal proceedings."

"Let's deal with the bribery issue first," Randall said. "I assume old man Knight is the one you think is paying out. Who's he paying?"

"I can't say," David answered. It wasn't a lie exactly, but it was vague enough to keep his other client protected.

"Is there any danger of it coming out before the sale?"

"There's an American reporter who's on to the story."

Randall sighed. "Pearl Jenner, I suppose. Have you talked to her?"

"Last night."

Randall nodded sympathetically. "When I checked in, I had about a dozen messages from her. But she's been sniffing around for a long time and hasn't been able to find anything of substance. What'd she say? Did she have names to go with the bribery?"

David was fully aware that Randall had let slip an important piece of information: Even before David walked in the room, Randall Craig had known there were problems and that a reporter was here in Taiyuan ostensibly to cover the sale. David's senses, which were already working at full tilt, jumped another notch.

"She doesn't know any names," David said. "She may not even know of the bribery, but she's aware of some of the other problems…"

"The way your predecessor explained it, if there's been wrongdoing in the past, we're not responsible. If it happens in the future, we are."

David leaned forward in his chair. "I think the Knights lied on their disclosure forms."

"About the bribery?"

"About the child labor, about the working conditions…"

"My position is, I don't know about all that."

"But you do."

"And how's the government going to know?"

"I have to disclose it to the SEC."

"You could do that," Randall acknowledged, "but what's the point? It's better just to let the sale go through as is. Tartan's shareholders will be happy. The Knight shareholders ought to be thrilled too. What's done is done. I say let the old guy retire gracefully."

"I still think we have to disclose."

"You know what would happen to a guy like Henry Knight? Maybe he'd pay a fine. On the other hand, maybe the Feds would send him to a country-club jail. He'd be in good company for a few months, and then he'd go back to his retirement. But in the meantime you will have hurt his son, and we're counting on Doug for continuity."

"And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"I have a legal obligation to file the papers properly. If I don't, I'm leaving my law firm open to prosecution."

"You do what you gotta do. But remember this, you'll have a clear conscience, but you will have wrecked havoc on a lot of people's lives and for what? Once Knight Senior's out of the game, we clean up the company's internal problems."

Randall's tone sounded suspiciously practiced. David felt the need to remind Randall that Knight's crimes could come back to haunt Tartan.

"My job here is to perform the due diligence and-"

"No," Randall shot out sharply. "That was Keith Baxter's job, and he did exactly as we wanted. Your job is to make sure the acquisition contracts are signed on Sunday. I'm not hearing that."

"What if the women who've been hurt come forward?"

Randall Craig shrugged. "I'd say that sometimes there are little blips on the radar screen, but that they never amount to anything. Put another way, we've got five factories in and around Shenzhen, and we haven't had any problems."

" China 's laws are changing."

Randall grinned and spread his hands wide. "Not fast enough. And besides, who's a Chinese judge going to believe? A peasant woman or two or a big American conglomerate that employs thousands upon thousands of men and women, that has been responsible for increased prosperity in various provinces, and that has the backing of high-ranking officials in the government?"

"A court might think differently if it had documents to back up what the women said."

Randall's demeanor suddenly changed. "What documents are those?"

"A young woman smuggled them out. She planned on giving them to Pearl Jenner."

"But she didn't?"

"No. She's dead, murdered, I believe."

"Is there an investigation into her death? Is there anything that can tie her to us?" Randall asked.

"Those are two questions. The answer to the first is not officially. The answer to the second is I don't think so."

"Then we have nothing to worry about."

"What about Keith's death?"

"I understood you were the target there."

"I have reason to believe I wasn't."

Randall sighed. "Miles thought this might come up-some kind of post-traumatic stress thing. Look, I'd like to help you through this, but the fact is I'm not trained for it. Miles will be in Beijing tomorrow. Cry on his shoulder." Randall glanced at his watch. David was supposed to take the hint and leave. When he didn't, Randall asked, "What?"

"What you just said is so out of line, I hardly know what to say."

"David, you represent me and my company. Focus on that. If there's another matter I should know about…" He eyed David curiously, as if sizing him up. "Have you seen those papers you mentioned? Is there something in them that I should be concerned about? If Pearl Jenner doesn't have them, then where are they? Are we going to be blackmailed?"