Dragon Head - A Beatrix Rose Thriller: Hong Kong Stories Volume 1 (Beatrix Rose's Hong Kong Stories Book 3) (3 page)

BEATRIX SAW the three men. They were sitting at a picnic table, eating from three cartons of noodles. They had arranged themselves so that they were facing the casino, able to observe the comings and goings. She heard German again. They were laughing and joking. They had the look of soldiers, with large builds and short cropped hair. One of the men had a cell phone on the table. Beatrix guessed that they would wait here until Gao needed them. The casino would have its own security. They would only be required again when he came out. He would call and they would resume their duties.

The parking lot was behind them. The Discovery was taller than the other cars around it and she found it without difficulty. It was parked so that it could not be obstructed should they need to drive away quickly, but it was far enough away that she knew that they wouldn’t be able to see her if she was careful.

There was a Mercedes SLK parked alongside it. She ducked down to a low crouch and made her way between the two vehicles. She would have liked to have been able to pop the bonnet so that she could get to the engine, but that would have been too risky. Instead she reached into her bag, taking out the knife and slashing the rear tyre. She moved to the front of the car and slashed that tyre, too. Air hissed out as the tyres deflated, the heavy car slowly lurching to the side. Staying low, Beatrix went around to the other side of the car and slashed those tyres, too. Ensuring that she was unobserved, she dropped the knife back into her bag and stayed below the line of the cars until she was several spaces away from the disabled Land Rover. Then she stood and made her way back to the casino.

The three guards were still at the picnic table.

THE CASINO was exclusive. The door was staffed by two immaculately turned out guards, and Beatrix couldn’t be sure that they would let her inside.

She skirted the building, eventually finding a door that looked as if it was used by the staff and suppliers that were making deliveries. There was a keypad lock on the door. Two staff members, wearing uniforms with the casino’s livery in gold brocade, were smoking cigarettes outside.

Beatrix took her own cigarettes from her bag, put one between her lips and lit it. She took her cell phone and pressed it to her ear, pretending to make a call. She paced back and forth, raising her voice in anger. The two members of staff regarded her, shared a comment in Cantonese that she couldn’t translate, and then went back to their cigarettes.

She made sure that she was watching when the two stood, treading the cigarettes underfoot. One of them entered the code on the keypad. 3526. Beatrix saw it clearly, waited until they had gone inside, waited another minute, and then entered the code herself.

The lock popped and the door opened.

She went inside.

THE CASINO was heavy with smoke, the atmosphere thick with the scent of perfume and alcohol. Beatrix found it dizzying and a little nauseating as she passed out of the corridor that led to the bathrooms and into the main room. The place was as exclusive as she had expected it to be. It was housed in two large rooms. The first room had four poker tables. The second room had two roulette wheels and three blackjack tables. A lobby between the two rooms was equipped with a luxurious bar with a granite surface, the shelves behind it stacked with premium-brand spirits. Beatrix went to the bar and ordered an orange juice. The barman served it with wordless efficiency, took her twenty-dollar bill and did not return her any change.

She observed. The chairs around the tables were all occupied and each table bore a small fortune in stacked chips. The clientele was a mixture of Chinese and foreign nationals and the atmosphere was excitable and tense. She could hear the rattle of the balls as they were spun around the roulette wheels, the clatter of chips as they were tossed into the middle. Results were met with exclamations of pleasure or distaste. The bigger wins were greeted with whoops and cheers, but these were no more than occasional. The trend was for rueful sighs and philosophical comments as the house won again and again.

The men wore suits and the women cocktail dresses. Beatrix was glad of the dress and heels. She would be able to stand a little scrutiny, but she knew that she could not afford to draw unnecessary attention to herself. There were surveillance domes over each of the tables and she knew that their footage would be analysed by staff looking for anything suspicious. There would be members of staff in the crowd, too, keeping an eye on things and making sure that the casino’s losses were kept within acceptable bounds. They would regard the guests with appraising eyes. She nursed her drink and concentrated on fading into the background.

She assessed the layout of the establishment. She knew that there was a way out through the back, but she didn’t plan on using it again. There were doors left and right for the male and female bathrooms. She guessed that the door behind the bar must lead to a storeroom. A flight of marble stairs led down to the main entrance and the street outside.

She considered her options. She only needed a moment alone with Gao. She knew that she could be persuasive, and she also knew that he would be pliable once he saw the video that she had downloaded to her phone. It might be possible to do it in the casino. That would be a lot easier than the alternative. Perhaps, if he went to the bathroom, she could follow and intercept him. There would be an attendant inside. If she was going to speak to him, it would have to be in the corridor. She would have to persuade him very quickly before he could summon security.

She mulled it over and dismissed it. Too risky. Too many variables. It would need good fortune, and she wasn’t in the business of relying on luck.

She moved through the room with the poker tables and into the room with the blackjack and roulette. She passed the cashier’s desk first. The man, owlish in wire-framed spectacles, sat behind a screen with piles of notes and chips arranged on shelves. She saw notes of all denominations, HK $500 and $1000 bills. The cashier did not appear to have anything with which to defend himself, but the guards were nearby and she suspected that they were armed.

Gao was sitting at one of the roulette wheels, the two girls on either side of him. She walked up. The wheel, table and chairs were on a raised pedestal, surrounded by a rail that reached as high as her stomach. There were others watching and Gao was putting on quite a show. He was presiding over a generous stack of chips and they watched him push several thousand dollars’ worth to the centre of the table, spreading them over a handful of black numbers.

Beatrix watched as the croupier collected the ivory ball in his right hand. The man gave the wheel a controlled twist clockwise with the same hand, and then flicked the ball round the outer rim of the wheel anticlockwise, against the spin. He called for final bets. Gao smiled at his girls, flipping each of them a five-hundred-dollar chip and grinning as they leaned over the table to place them on their lucky numbers.

The ball settled. Black. The croupier scraped the chips across the table, divvied up the appropriate winnings, and passed them back again. Gao had won.

Beatrix didn’t look at Gao too closely. She didn’t want him to notice, but she did want to get an idea about him and how he operated. Was he drunk? High? What was his attitude like? Aggressive? Relaxed? She assessed it all and then, when she had been there long enough, she faded back to the bar. She could still watch the proceedings at the table from there.

A man sidled up to her. “Hello,” he said.

She ignored him.

“Haven’t seen you here before.”

She ignored him again.

He didn’t take the hint. “Let me buy you a drink.”

This was unwelcome. The last thing she wanted was to make a scene. But she relented. Perhaps it could be played to her advantage. The man, whoever he was, looked comfortable here. Perhaps he was a regular. She could have a drink with him. He might make for some useful cover. The alternative was to stay on her own, and that would start to look odd.

“Orange juice,” she said.

“Nothing stronger?”

“I don’t drink when I’m playing.”

“What’s your game?”

She put a smile on her face. “Roulette. Yours?”

“Same.”

They watched the table as they sipped their drinks.

“You know him?” he asked her.

“Not really.”

“His name is Gao. Filthy rich. Multi millions. Billions, probably. Investment.”

“He certainly likes throwing his money around.”

“Likes to put on a show. Bit vulgar, you ask me.”

“I think I did read something about him once,” she said. “Not very complimentary.”

The man leaned in and spoke conspiratorially. “The thing about the triads? Listen, you want to know a secret?
Everyone
here is involved with the triads, one way or another. That orange juice you’re drinking? That’s cash we just laundered for them.”

She pretended to be a naïf. “This is a
triad
place?”

He laughed at her ingenuousness. “They own everywhere. Hong Kong. The whole bloody peninsula belongs to them.”

She was about to tell him that she would take another orange juice when Gao swore loudly, pushed away from the table and stood.

“Oh dear,” the man said. “Someone’s not very happy.”

She had been distracted, but it was obvious that he had lost. He cursed again, barked invective at the croupier and made for the exit. A member of staff hurried after him, trying to get him to stay, but Gao ignored him.

Beatrix reached into her bag and took out her phone. She sent the prepared text.

—
NOW
.

She didn’t know whether she would have enough time. She had expected to have been able to give Chau notice, but that would have meant that Gao had given
her
the notice that he was about to leave, and he had surprised her. Chau was waiting outside. It looked like she was going to have to rely on his initiative, and that wasn’t something that filled her with confidence.

“Where are you going?” the man said to her.

“Nice to meet you,” Beatrix said. “I’m late for an appointment. Thanks for the drink.”

THE LIMOUSINE was parked in front of the entrance. Chau was standing on the same side of the road, fifty feet to the north. He was smoking a cigarette, and pretending to hold a conversation on his cell phone. She was relieved. He was exactly where he was supposed to be and doing exactly what she had told him to do. He saw her come out of the casino and started to proceed along the pavement in the direction of the limousine.

Gao was on the pavement, the two girls close behind him.

Beatrix had an elevated position on the steps and could see to the picnic tables and the parking lot. The three bodyguards were running for the Discovery.

They had been caught off guard, too.

Beatrix smiled at the two doormen as she descended the stairs.

She reached into her bag.

The chauffeur stepped out of the front of the Hummer and opened the rear kerbside door.

Gao paused to let the two girls get into the car. They giggled as they ducked down and slid into the cabin. Beatrix caught a glimpse of crystal tableware, shards of light glittering off a chrome ice bucket. A blacked-out partition separated the driver from the passenger compartment. That was good. She paced herself carefully so that she was on the pavement beside the chauffeur just as he closed the rear door and turned to get back into the car himself.

He didn’t get the chance.

“Excuse me,” she said.

He paused and turned back in her direction. “Yes?”

She nodded down at her bag. “One of those girls left this inside.”

The suspicion melted from the man’s face. “Here,” he said, holding out his right hand. “Give it to me.”

She pulled her hand out of her bag, the Glock clasped in a loose grip. Her index finger was inside the trigger guard, the trigger pressed up tight against the pad of her index finger. The chauffeur’s eyes bulged and he took a step back, his foot slipping off the kerb so that he stumbled back against the frame of the door.

The two doormen clocked what was going on and started down the stairs.

“No,” Chau said, pulling his little Kel-Tec Saturday Night Special and waving it at them. The doormen stopped halfway to the pavement.

Beatrix reached for the chauffeur and, with her left hand, grabbed his jacket and yanked him away from the car. He fell over onto his knees and she kicked him in the ribs with the point of her shoe. He gasped in pain and folded his arms around his chest.

“
Now
, Chau.”

Beatrix had gambled that, if they were quick enough, Gao would not realise what was going on outside his car. She had been pleased that the two girls were there to accompany him. They would make for an excellent distraction. She opened the rear door and slipped inside. The limousine was a riot of bad taste. It was equipped with three mirrored LCD TVs, stainless-steel headliners, and twinkle fibre optics on the ceiling and around the full-length champagne bar. It had two large bench seats facing each other and another that extended between them along the side of the car that was flush against the kerb. Gao was sitting in this seat, his back to the action outside. The girls would have been able to notice it had they been looking, but one was occupied with trying to open a bottle of champagne and the other was nuzzling into Gao’s neck.

The girl with the champagne saw her. “Hey!” she protested.

Beatrix heard Chau shut the front door and the engine throbbed as he fed it revs.

“Get out!” the girl said to Beatrix, and then screamed as Beatrix showed her the Glock.

“Goodbye.” Beatrix nodded to the open door and waved the gun at them.

The girls quickly got the picture. They grabbed their clutch bags and stumbled out into the street.

Gao cursed in Cantonese and started to rise. Beatrix turned the gun on him.

He sat down again.

She crouched and reached for the door, yanking it shut just as Chau let off the handbrake and pulled away.