Cryptozoica (13 page)

“What exactly were the circumstances?” Belleau demanded suspiciously, hand tightening around his glass.

“We set up a base camp here, right on this spot,” Crowe answered. “We boated over to Big Tamtung a couple of times a week. Once we had enough photographic and taped evidence, we got in touch with Howie.”

Flitcroft smiled blandly. “I’d used the services of Horizons Unlimited a few times so I knew Jack and Gus weren’t liars, even if they weren’t always reliable. I knew they weren’t running a con on me.”

“Only after you insisted on seeing the place yourself,” Kavanaugh reminded him.

Flitcroft’s smile widened. “Once I did and had the soil and water samples tested, I was convinced. I agreed to back the Cryptozoica idea.”

“Biochemistry isn’t my field,” said Honoré, “but I’d be interested in reading the analysis and gauging the accuracy of the science.”

Belleau cast her an impatient glance. “I already have done that. The soil and water is rich in anti-viral chemical compounds. Conceivably, we could distill drugs that could kill HIV, slow the spread of cancer or halt the process altogether. There is nothing else like it on Earth.”

“That’s only speculation.”

“So far,” Flitcroft retorted. “But just speculation drew even more financing. We kept everything, even the smallest detail a secret.”

“Hence the cover story about ecotourism and a health retreat,” stated Belleau.

“Exactly. The plan was that after we had Cryptozoica up and running, we’d reveal the truth and allow the scientists to have access—a few at a time, under controlled conditions. If we had alerted the news agencies and the media from the outset, they would have been crawling all over the Tamtungs like locusts. I valued this piece of thunder too much to have it stolen by any scientist or reporter who wanted to make a rep for themselves.”

“They wouldn’t have just stolen our thunder,” Kavanaugh said darkly, “but everything they possibly could carry away. Poachers, animal collectors, trophy hunters, agents for the drug companies, you name it—they would have gutted the place inside of six months.”

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t set up a black market for dinosaur eggs or the like,” Belleau said with a snide grin. “Or at the very least a mail order business for raptor DNA and take out ads in the backs of magazines.”

Flitcroft didn’t appear to be offended. “The population of animals on the island isn’t exactly what you’d call numerous.”

A line of consternation crossed Honoré’s brow. “Why didn’t you offer up any live specimens for study?”

“First, we didn’t want to take things away from the ecosystem,” Kavanaugh answered tersely. “Secondarily, most of the live specimens are damn difficult to trap safely.”

“So, you
did
try.”

Kavanaugh nodded. “More than once…but I only managed to catch an archaeopteryx and even doing that was a major pain in the ass.”

Belleau angled a skeptical eyebrow at him. “What did you do with it?”

“I brought it back here. It’s sort of the unofficial mascot of this place.”

Honoré leaned forward, eyes wide and bright. “Where is it? I want to see!”

Crowe laughed. “If you hang around Jack long enough, you’ll see the damn thing. He thinks it’s stalking him, waiting to swoop down and gnaw out his brains or something.”

Honoré squinted first at Crowe, then at Kavanaugh, an uncertain smile playing over her face. When she realized that Kavanaugh’s expression was somber, she inquired. “Really?”

Flitcroft waved away the topic. “Never mind. Starting up a trade in prehistoric animals was never what we wanted to do. Even if it was, trying to set up something like that would have drawn too much attention…most of it unwelcome.”

“Why do you say that?” Honoré asked.

“The Tamtungs aren’t in any specific territorial waters,” Flitcroft said, “but we still had to get permission to operate here.”

Belleau nodded. “From United Bamboo.”

“Yeah,” said Kavanaugh grimly. “The triads associated with United Bamboo think they own this part of the world, even the parts of they never even knew existed. Some of the older triads have politicians and military officers in their pockets. Political and territorial borders don’t mean a whole hell of a lot when a fortune in renewable revenue is at stake.”

Honoré stared at him reproachfully. “From what I understand, you were the one who got the triads involved in the undertaking in the first place.”

Kavanaugh smiled without humor. “They would’ve gotten involved eventually—they would have moved in and either demanded hundreds of millions in protection money or they would have burned us out by sabotaging the flights and tour boats. It made more sense to invite one in to act as the mediator of the others. I found a go-between who is fairly diplomatic. There was less chance of hurt feelings doing it through her, not to mention kicking up an international shit-storm.”

“ ‘Her’, “ Honoré echoed with icy irony. “Bai Suzhen, the so-called Madame White Snake, acted as your go-between with the triads. I’m interested in meeting her.”

“If you’re lucky,” remarked Crowe bleakly, “you won’t ever have to. She’s a little quick on the trigger.”

“She brought in more investors, is that correct?”

“The ones that didn’t die unexpectedly, yes,” Flitcroft said dryly.

Honoré gazed at Kavanaugh steadily. “And you came very close to dying unexpectedly yourself.”

Kavanaugh managed to repress the automatic reflex to touch his scarred face. “Yeah, you might say that.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve got a few questions for you now.”

“Fire away…Jack.”

He and Honoré locked eyes for a long moment. God, he thought, she really is lovely. In different clothes with her hair brushed, she would be—

Voices clamored in a fearful outcry from the barroom followed by a raucous squalling jerked him straight up in his chair, driving all frivolous thoughts from his mind. The music blaring from the jukebox stopped so abruptly, Kavanaugh knew the plug had been yanked from the socket. All the laughter and babble of conversation suddenly died, as if a giant bell jar had been dropped over the Phoenix of Beauty.

Kavanaugh shifted slightly, feeling the silent pressure build in the air, not unlike an approaching storm-front. Even Honoré Roxton sensed it. She swung her head around, alarm glinting in her eyes.

Crowe pushed his chair back from the table and peered through the French doors. Feet scuffled and scuttered on the hardwood floors. “Something’s going on in there.”

The high-pitched squawk came again, followed by a flapping sound, as if a wet strip of carpet were being shaken out in the next room. Kavanaugh’s belly turned a slow flip-flop of recognition.

Mouzi came rushing out onto the verandah, casting an apprehensive glance over her shoulder. She leaned over the table and whispered urgently into Crowe’s ear.

Although the man’s face remained impassive, he turned toward Honoré and said, “Well, Dr. Roxton, I guess your luck has run out—you get to meet Madame White Snake after all.”

When Huang Luan caught sight of Kavanaugh, the archaeopteryx fluttered its green wings and opened its tooth-lined beak, uttering a defiant screech that sounded like a nail being pried from a length of green wood.

Bai Suzhen stroked the breast feathers of the creature perched on her right shoulder and murmured a calming endearment. The face she turned toward the people standing between the open French doors held no particular emotion except a suggestion of her usual hauteur.

Her almond eyes slid over Kavanaugh and he felt as if he had been stroked by an electrically charged glove from head to toe. Elegant and immaculate as always, Bai Suzhen’s glossy black hair was pulled smoothly back from her face and pinned up at the back of her head by an ivory comb. Triangular jade earrings dangled on either side of her slender throat, encased in the high collar of a blue satin tunic. The tight fabric faithfully molded her high, firm breasts. The slit in the white linen skirt showed a round thigh encircled by a red and gold serpent.

She strode toward the verandah, her stilt-heels tapping loudly on the floor. The crowd parted for her as if she were the figurehead of a ship. Dang Xo and Pai Chu, her two bodyguards, followed closely behind. Their eyes, masked by sunglasses, combined with the immobility of their features to emphasize the cold implacability of their expressions. As usual, their jian swords were sheathed in lacquered scabbards strapped across their backs

Bertram Pendlebury lurched into Bai Suzhen’s path, holding out an autocratic hand. “Hey, excuse me, who do you think you are, turning off the sounds?”

Bai Suzhen’s eyes flickered with amused contempt but she continued striding toward him.

“Get out of her way, asshole,” a man whispered from the crowd.

Pendlebury paid no attention. “If you wan’ to see Mr. Flitcroft, you better make an appointment.”

The woman halted less than inch from Pendlebury’s outstretched hand. In a flat, dispassionate tone, she said, “I don’t know who you are, but I suggest you step aside.”

Pendlebury’s lips twisted in a smirk. “An’ I suggest that if you want to stay, you better behave yourself. We can always use more pussy at a party, especially of the Kung-Fu variety.”

Pendlebury thrust his pelvis in her direction. “You want to be in my picture, Kung-Fu pussy?”

Bai Suzhen’s expression did not alter, not even when Pendlebury reached out with his fingers to caress the swell of her left breast. The overhead lights flashed from steel, like a mirror reflecting sunlight for a fraction of a second.

Pendlebury rocked backward on his heels, clutching at his right hand with his left, blood squirting from the severed tips of two fingers. Lips writhing, his mouth opened and closed like that of a landed fish.

He gaped with disbelieving eyes, first at the ends of his fingers lying in little crimson puddles on the floor and then to the jian sword gripped in the hand of Dang Xo.

“A party,” Bai Suzhen intoned softly. “I do not recall planning a party.” She glanced around at the shocked faces on all sides of her. “But I do love a good party.”

Pendlebury finally managed to drag enough air into his lungs to propel a shrill scream from his between his slack lips. Shrieking, he staggered wildly toward the verandah, running like a panicked deer, heedless of direction or obstacles in his path. He shouldered several people aside, bowling over tables and chairs.

Kavanaugh stepped aside as the wailing man stumbled onto the verandah where he pitched headfirst over the railing and down into the surrounding shrubbery. He thrashed madly and a little covey of geckos scampered away in all directions, chirping in alarm.

Bai Suzhen arched a carefully plucked eyebrow in Kavanaugh’s direction as he was joined first by Crowe, then Honoré and finally by Belleau and Oakshott. “Are these the party guests, Jack?”

Flitcroft vaulted over the railing and helped the struggling, squealing Pendlebury to his feet. “Where’s a first-aid kit?”

Crowe turned toward Mouzi who seemed content to lurk in the shadows. “Go get the one from the
Krakatoa
.”

Kavanaugh said matter-of-factly, “Hello, Bai. I didn’t expect you back tonight.”

Despite himself, he felt like a teenager whose keg party had just been crashed by the unexpected arrival of a parent.

“Why should you have?” Bai Suzhen retorted. “I am not accustomed to apprising you of my schedule.”

“Did you have a good trip?”

“No,” she said coldly. “I, the white serpent of good fortune, am still not prospering.”

Belleau spoke for the first time. “Perhaps I can change that, Madame.”

Flitcroft stumbled back onto the verandah, holding the whimpering, bleeding Pendlebury in both arms. Face suffused with rage, he bellowed, “Are you crazy, Bai? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

Dang Xo made a motion to step toward him, but Bai restrained him with a hand. In a rather less formal tone, she demanded, “What are you doing here, Howard?”

“Business, what do you think?” Flitcroft sat Pendlebury down in a chair and Crowe wrapped the man’s hand in a cloth napkin.

“I thought all of your business with the Tamtungs was over and done with quite some time ago. And if it wasn’t, you should’ve told me you were coming.”

“You weren’t here,” Flitcroft snapped.

“I am now.” Her eyes swept over the faces of Kavanaugh, Honoré Belleau, and Oakshott. “I’m guessing that the reason all of you are here in my establishment is due to Howard’s business?”

Kavanaugh nodded. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Honoré gestured to Pendlebury’s fingertips on the floor. “You know, if somebody puts those on ice, it’s possible they can be reattached.”

Huang Luan spread its wings and sprang from Bai Suzhen’s shoulders, swooped down, plucked the fingers from the floor with its claws and soared out between the French doors and into the night. The archaeopteryx’s long tail nearly feather-whipped Kavanaugh across the right eye. He flinched away, grimacing. Pendlebury wailed in anguish.

“I guess that’s a never-mind, then,” said Honoré faintly.

“Who might you be?” Bai asked.

“Honoré Roxton,” she stated matter-of-factly. She started to extend her hand, glanced at the naked, blood-smeared sword and withdrew it. “Doctor Honoré Roxton.”

Bai eyed her distrustfully. “You’re a surgeon?”

“No, I’m a paleontologist.”

“When did you arrive?”

“Today,” Belleau said, stepping forward. “We both did.”

“From England?”

“More or less, by way of Argentina.”

Bai Suzhen’s face remained a blank mask, as she looked the small man up and down. “Are you a doctor, too?”

“That I am. Dr. Aubrey Belleau.” He inclined his head in a respectful bow. “I believe you and I have business matters to discuss, Madame.”

For the first time, Bai’s face registered an emotion other than detached superiority. Her eyes widened in surprise. For a few seconds, she seemed to grope for a response, then she swiftly recovered her composure. “Yes, she replied stolidly. “I suppose we do, at that.”

Oblivious to the astonished stare cast at him by Honoré, Belleau smiled broadly. “Shall we find a place a bit more private?”

Bai Suzhen waved toward the rear of the building, past the bar. “My quarters.”

Addressing the crowd, she announced, “Everyone feel free to continue partying down. That’s what the Phoenix of Beauty is all about.”

Honoré clapped a hand on Belleau’s shoulder. “Aubrey, what the bloody hell is going on here? What business could you possibly have with her?”

Belleau carefully disengaged himself from her grip. “I’m full of surprises, aren’t I, darlin’? I’ll let you know all about it. While I’m otherwise disposed, I’m sure Tombstone Jacky will be pleased to tell you more of his amazin’ adventures running opium and Oriental harlots and whatnot.”

Kavanaugh felt the hot seep of anger on the back of his neck. In Thai, he said to Bai, “There’s something underhanded going on here. You might need a witness just to keep matters on the up and up.”

Bai nodded contemplatively and said, “Bpen an dee.”

Whether Belleau understood the brief exchange or guessed its meaning, he said curtly, “Madame, the business is between us.”

“But it affects a number of people,” she countered. “Friends of mine, more or less. You may bring a witness if you care to.” She waved diffidently toward Honoré. “The doctor who is not a surgeon, for example.”

Followed by Honoré,’ Belleau, Oakshott, Kavanaugh, Dang Xo and Pai Chu, Bai Suzhen strode to the rear of the Phoenix of Beauty. She led the entourage into a large room filled with lacquerware, Sukhothai carvings and colorful tapestries. On the other side of a very modern kitchenette, they glimpsed a canopied bed draped in pale yellow silk. A miniature gold Buddha sat in smiling meditation on a corner table, watching everyone come in. The wall far wall bore red, yellow and green tiles that formed a mosaic of the Naga, the seven-headed cobra of Asian myth. The room smelled of stale incense.

Bai Suzhen fanned the air in front of her face. “Why is it so hot in here? Is the air conditioning out again?”

“Afraid so,” Kavanaugh said. “Mouzi tried to fix it. Want me to open a window?”

Bai smiled at him tauntingly. “And tempt my little Huang Luan to peck out your eyes?”

She flicked a wall switch and a large ceiling fan began to revolve, the wooden paddles stirring the humid air but not really cooling it down.

“May we get on with this?” Belleau inquired, wiping at the sweat filming his forehead.

Bai Suzhen glanced at him, then looked past him toward Oakshott who loomed in the doorway. “Instruct your man to wait outside.”

“Tell your soldiers to leave, too,” Belleau shot back.

Bai sat down in a high-backed Bombay chair and crossed her legs, the right over the left. Kavanaugh steadfastly refused to look at the serpentine tattoo writhing up from around her ankle. Although he appreciated her psychological ploy of presenting an attitude of a noblewoman granting an audience, he had been subjected to it once too often to find much novelty value in it.

“This is my place, Dr. Belleau,” she said flatly. “You do not dictate to me here. Doing business in this part of the world is complicated and convoluted enough without you dragging poor manners into the mix.”

Belleau glared at her. “Madame—”

The woman leaned forward slightly, hands on the arms of the chair. Under her tight blouse, her breasts lifted and fell as if she inhaled deeply, then held her breath.

Kavanaugh stifled to urge to tell the little Englishman he was risking a far more tragic amputation than a couple of fingers but Belleau gusted out a resigned sigh and turned toward Oakshott.

“Go back to the party, that’s a good fellow. I’ll join you in a few minutes. Ask Mr. Flitcroft if you can help with the unfortunate Mr. Pendlebury.”

Reluctantly, Oakshott lumbered away, down the corridor. Satisfaction at the small victory glinted in Bai Suzhen’s eyes. Quietly, she said, “Thank you, Dr. Belleau. I am told that you wish to purchase my interests in Cryptozoica Enterprises.”

“You were told correctly.”

“Told by whom?” demanded Honoré, impatiently swiping at a strand of hair hanging in her face.

“You look very uncomfortable, Dr. Roxton,” said Bai Suzhen. “If you like, I can send for an iced drink of some kind. Perhaps a damp cloth?”

“Thank you, no. I want to know––"

“You are here at my sufferance,” continued Bai. “As a witness to the proceedings, not a party to them. Is that understood?”

Eyes gleaming with barely suppressed fury, Honoré bit out, “Understood.”

“Now, Dr. Belleau—why do you wish to purchase my interests here?”

The man’s eyebrows rose. “What difference does it make? It should be sufficient that I’m willing to make the purchase. I was informed that you intended to sell them.”

“You were probably told that I was willing to sell for whatever amount you offered me…isn’t that right?”

Belleau shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “Madame, my intermediaries made an offer to Mr. Zhi, Mr. Cao and Lady Hu. An agreement was brokered. I came here under the distinct impression that you were fully aware of the particulars.”

“I am.” Bai Suzhen cut her eyes toward Kavanaugh. “Howard didn’t know anything about this deal?”

Kavanaugh shook his head. “If he did, he didn’t say anything to me or Gus. As far as I know, he thinks he’s bankrolling a film project. Are you saying he’s been had or what?”

Belleau scowled up at him. “How dare you? The film project is completely legitimate. Dr. Roxton wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“I’ll go along with that,” Honoré interjected. “As it is, if I don’t get some clarity on what’s going on, I won’t be here for much longer.”

Belleau said reassuringly, “My business transaction with Madame Suzhen is not linked to the film, darlin’. They’re separate issues.”

“Really?” Honoré’s tone held the hard edge of challenge and suspicion. “So all of this is just one of those extraordinary confluence of coincidences I’ve heard so much about?”