The Bourne Supremacy by Robert Ludlum

‘I see the sign.’

‘Wait there. I’ll be with you as soon as I can make arrangements.’

‘Is there a drug store here?’

‘I don’t want you walking around. There’ll be descriptions out everywhere.’

‘I understand that, but can you walk around? Just a bit.’

‘Bad time of the month?’

Wo, my feet! Vaseline, skin lotion, sandals – no, not sandals. Rubber thongs, perhaps, and peroxide.’

‘I’ll do what I can, but time is everything.’

‘It’s been that way for the past year. A terrible treadmill. Will it stop, Catherine?’

‘I’m doing my damnedest to see to it. You’re a friend and a countryman, my dear. And I’m a very angry woman – and speaking of such – how many women did you encounter in the hallowed halls of the CIA or its bumbling counterpart at the State Department, Consular Operations?’

Marie blinked, trying to remember. ‘None, actually.’

There was a woman in Paris-‘

‘There’s always is, dear. Go to the ladies’ room.’

‘An automobile is a hindrance in Hong Kong,’ said Wenzu, looking at the clock on the wall of his office in the headquarters of MI6, Special Branch. It read 6:34. Therefore we must assume she intends driving Webb’s wife some distance, hiding her, and will not risk taxi records. Our eight o’clock deadline has been rescinded, the chase now takes its place. We must intercept her. Is there anything we haven’t considered?’

‘Putting the Australian in jail,’ suggested the short, well-dressed subordinate firmly. ‘We suffered casualties in the Walled City, but his were a public embarrassment. We know where he’s staying. We can pick him up.’

‘On what charge?’

‘Obstruction.’

‘To what end?’

The subordinate shrugged – angrily. ‘Satisfaction, that’s all.’

‘You’ve just answered your own question. Your pride is inconsequential. Stick to the woman – the women.’

‘You’re right, of course.’

‘Every garage, the car hire agencies here on the island and in Kowloon, they’ve all been contacted by the police, correct?’

‘Yes, sir. But I must point out that the Staples woman could easily call upon one of her friends – her Canadian friends – and she would have a car we could not track.’

‘We operate on what we can control, not what we can’t. Besides, from what I knew before and what I have subsequently learned about Foreign Service Officer Staples, I would say she’s acting alone, certainly not with official sanction. She won’t involve anyone else for the time being.’

‘How can you be sure?’

Wenzu looked at his subordinate; he had to choose his words carefully. ‘Just a guess.’

‘Your guesses have a reputation for accuracy.’

‘An inflated judgement. Common sense is my ally.’ The telephone rang. The major’s hand shot out. ‘Yes?’

‘Police Central Four,’ droned a male voice.

‘We appreciate your co-operation Central Four.’

‘A Ming’s Parking Palace responded to our inquiry. The Mitsubishi AOR has a space there leased on a monthly basis. The owner’s name is Staples. Catherine Staples, a Canadian. The car was taken out roughly thirty-five minutes ago.’

‘You’ve been most helpful, Central Four,’ said Lin. Thank you.’ He hung up and looked at his anxious subordinate. ‘We now have three new pieces of information. The first is that the inquiry we sent out through the police was definitely sent out. The second is that at least one garage wrote down the information, and thirdly, Mrs Staples leases her parking space by the month.’

‘It’s a start, sir.’

There are three major, and perhaps a dozen minor car hire agencies, not counting the hotels, which we’ve covered separately. Those are manageable statistics, but, of course, the garages are not.’

‘Why not?’ questioned the subordinate. ‘At most there are, perhaps, a hundred. Who wants to build a garage in Hong Kong when he could house a dozen shops – businesses? At maximum, the police telephone banks have twenty to thirty operators. They can call them all.’

‘It’s not the numbers, old friend. It’s the mentality of the employees, for the jobs are not enviable. Those who can write are too lazy or too hostile to bother, and those who can’t, flee from any association with the police.’

‘One garage responded.’

‘A true Cantonese. It was the owner.’

The owner should be told!’ cried the parking boy in shrill Chinese to the booth attendant at the garage on Ice House Street.

‘Why?’

‘I explained it to you! I wrote it down for you-‘

‘Because you go to school and write somewhat better than I do does not make you boss-boss here.’

‘You cannot write at all! You were shit-shit afraid! You called for me when the man on the telephone said it was a police emergency. You illiterates always run from the police. That was the car, the green Mitsubishi I parked on Level Two! If you won’t call the police, you must call the owner.’

There are things they don’t teach you in school, boy with small organ.’

They teach us not to go against the police. It is bad joss.’

‘I will call the police – or better you may be their hero.’

‘Good!’

‘After the two women return and I have a short talk with the driver.’

‘What?’

‘She thought she was giving me – us – two dollars, but it was eleven. One of the bills was a ten-dollar note. She was very nervous, very upset. She is frightened. She did not watch her money.’

‘You said it was two dollars!’

‘And now I’m being honest. Would I be honest with you if I did not have both our interests in my heart?’

‘In what way?’

‘I will tell this rich, frightened American – she spoke American – that you and I have not called back the police on her behalf. She will reward us on the spot – very, very generously – for she will understand that she may not retrieve her car without doing so. You may watch me from inside the garage by the other telephone. After she pays I will send another boy for her car, which he will have great trouble finding for I will give him the wrong location, and you will call the police. The police will arrive, we will have done our heavenly duty, and had a night of money like few other nights in this miserable job.’

The parking boy squinted, shaking his head. ‘You’re right,’ he said. They don’t teach such things in school. And I suppose I do not have a choice.’

‘Oh, but you do,’ said the attendant, pulling a long knife from his belt. ‘You can say no, and I will cut out your talk-talk tongue.’

Catherine approached the concierge’s desk in the Mandarin lobby, annoyed that she did not know either of the two clerks behind the counter. She needed a favour quickly, and in Hong Kong that meant dealing with a person one knew. Then to her relief she spotted the evening shift’s Number 1 concierge. He was in the middle of the lobby trying to mollify an excited guest. She moved to the right and waited, hoping to catch Lee Teng’s eye. She had cultivated Teng, sending numerous Canadians to him when problems of convenience had seemed insurmountable. He had always been paid handsomely.

‘Yes, may I be of help, Mrs?’ said the young Chinese clerk moving in front of Staples.

‘I’ll wait for Mr Teng, if you please.’

‘Mr Teng is very busy, Mrs. A very bad time for Mr Teng. You are a guest of the Mandarin, Mrs?’

‘I’m a resident of the territory and an old friend of Mr

Teng. Where possible I bring my business here so the desk gets the credit.’

‘Ohh… The clerk responded to Catherine’s non-tourist status. He leaned forward, speaking confidentially. ‘Lee Teng has terrible joss tonight. The lady goes to the grand ball at Government House but her clothes go to Bangkok. She must think Mr Teng has wings under his jacket and jet engines in his armpits, yes?’

‘An interesting concept. The lady just flew in?’

‘Yes, Mrs. But she had many pieces of luggage. She did not miss the one she misses now. She blames first her husband and now Lee Teng.’

‘Where’s her husband?’

‘In the bar. He offered to take the next plane to Bangkok but his kindness only made his wife angrier. He will not leave the bar, and he will not get to Government House in a way that will make him pleased with himself in the morning. Bad joss all around… Perhaps I can be of assistance to you while Mr Teng does his best to calm everybody.’

‘I want to rent a car and I need one as fast as you can get it for me.’

‘Aiya,” said the clerk. ‘It is seven o’clock at night and the rental offices do little leasing in the evening hours. Most are closed.’

I’m sure there are exceptions.’

‘Perhaps a hotel car with a chauffeur?’

‘Only if there’s nothing else available. As I mentioned, I’m not a guest here and, frankly, I’m not made of money.’