The Goddess of Yantai Page 8

  They went through the door, made a sharp right, and followed her down a carpeted hallway towards a glass-enclosed boardroom that seemed to fill an entire corner of the floor. There were three people in the room. Two of them were young women who stood up when they entered. A man, who Ava assumed was Mo, remained seated.

  “Welcome, Mr. Lop,” one young woman said. “My name is Hua and my colleague is Chuntao. We’re Mr. Mo’s personal assistants and we’re pleased to meet you and Ms. Lee. Have you been offered something to drink?”

  “Yes, but there’s nothing that we want right now.”

  Mo sat in a chair that was different from the others around the table. It was covered in red leather, not black like the rest, and it had a higher back. Mo had several files on the large table in front of him and his focus was on them. He hadn’t bothered to look up when they entered the boardroom.

  “Please take a seat,” said Hua.

  They sat next to each other, across from the young women and to the right of Mo. Hua smiled encouragingly at them, but Mo still hadn’t acknowledged them.

  Ava looked at him and guessed he was about fifty. He was wearing a grey suit, a white silk shirt, and a red Hermès tie. He had broad shoulders, a thick chest, and a head that seemed disproportionally large even for a body of his dimensions.

  “I’ll be just a minute,” he said, finally lifting his head. “I have these papers I have to sign.”

  His voice was hoarse, and it was a match for a coarse face that featured full, wet lips, a broad nose, and eyes that pressed close together. Ava had a fleeting image of him with Fai and felt a touch of nausea.

  “There, all done,” Mo said, and slid the files over to Chuntao.

  She stood to leave but Hua remained seated.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see us,” Lop said.

  “General Chik was quite insistent that I do, but he was vague about the specifics,” Mo said.

  “He’s a good friend,” Lop said.

  “Evidently, and if you’re going to have a good friend in Beijing, he’s among the best anyone could have.”

  “He also has a personal interest in the outcome of our meeting.”

  “Are you saying that the General is getting into movies?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Please don’t speak in riddles. I’ve only allocated fifteen minutes for this meeting,” Mo said, showing some impatience.

  Lop nodded towards Hua. “What we want is clear enough, but it’s something best expressed in private.”

  Mo leaned back in his chair and stared at them through hooded eyes. He had a presence that Ava thought was rather dark and menacing; it reminded her in some ways of Sammy Wing, the former Triad gang leader in Wanchai. Sammy was given to long silences followed by cryptic comments that were usually veiled threats.

  Neither Lop nor Ava averted their eyes. As Mo’s flicked between them, she saw that Lop was the one who had clearly captured his interest.

  “Ms. Hua, could you please leave us alone,” Mo said. “But let me know when Mr. Lop’s fifteen minutes are finished.”

  She hesitated and then said, “Yes, sir.”

  Mo waited until she closed the door before he leaned forward and almost snarled, “What the hell is this about?”

  “We needed to talk to you and the General volunteered to create the opportunity. I’m sorry if we were less than forthcoming about the reason, but the General thought that was best as well.”

  “Talk to me about what?”

  “Money,” Lop said.

  “That’s a very broad subject.”

  “Specifically, the General and some associates have invested in several businesses in and around Shanghai,” Lop said. “One of them is a fashion line. We are talking about an investment in the tens of millions of U.S. dollars, and we are talking about a return that could be in the hundreds of millions.”

  “What could that possibly have to do with me?”

  “The actress Pang Fai is promoting the line. In fact, she’s become its face. Her continuing commitment will be instrumental to its success.”

  “As I said, what does that have to do with me?”

  “How blunt do you want me to be?”

  “You’re here and we’re alone. Speak as freely as you want.”

  “Our understanding is that you, and perhaps some of your colleagues, have been extracting various favours from Ms. Pang for several years in return for financing and distributing films in which she’s appeared. She’s made it clear to us that she no longer wants to be so giving, but she’s afraid that her refusal to maintain the status quo — such as going on a trip to Thailand with you — will have a negative impact on her career,” Lop said, and then paused. “Specifically, she’s worried that the Syndicate will withdraw its support for any projects in which she’s involved. Among them is the film Mao’s Daughter. She’s asked us to intervene on her and the film’s behalf, and that’s why we’re here.”

  “What the fuck do you mean by ‘favours’?”

  “There was a suggestion that some of them were sexual in nature.”

  Mo’s eyes closed for several seconds, and Ava saw his upper body stiffen. He’s going to explode, she thought. Instead he offered a small smile and said, “You have just displayed an amazing amount of arrogance and ignorance.”

  “I have been known to possess both,” Lop said.

  “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  Lop shrugged. “My personality failings don’t matter. What does is Pang Fai’s continuing involvement in promotion of the fashion line. We have it now, but to keep it she’s insisting that we persuade you to drop your demands of her. And to continue to maximize her impact, we obviously need you to keep supporting her career and her films exactly as you’ve been doing. “

  “I have no fucking idea what you mean by ‘demands,’” Mo said. “We’ve financed and distributed her films for years, and I’m not aware of a single thing we’ve asked in return. That Thailand trip you mentioned, for example, is one of several outings we organize each year for people in the industry. It gives them a chance to network and it’s considered a privilege to be asked. She’s free to say no.”

  “Maybe we were misinformed,” Lop said. “If we were, you have our apologies.”

  “I don’t want an apology. What I want is for you to leave.”

  “Of course, and we will momentarily,” Lop said. “But first, can we assume that you will release, distribute, and promote Mao’s Daughter, if for no other reason than as a favour for General Chik?”

  Mo glared at him.

  “And next, can we assume that Pang Fai’s career will continue to be as productive and high-profile as it has been?”

  “Those are two very different questions,” Mo said slowly.

  “You can answer them in any order you wish,” Lop said.

  “Your attitude isn’t helping this conversation,” Mo said, and pursed his lips.

  “I’m sorry if I seem rude,” Lop said quickly. “But you should understand that I’m expected to leave here with clear answers for General Chik and the other shareholders.”

  Mo stared at Lop as if he was trying to determine his sincerity. Then he nodded and said, “Pang Fai has been one of our greatest actresses. Sadly, she’s at an age where her appeal is starting to fade. The days are gone when her participation in a film guarantees that it will automatically be financed and distributed. We won’t abandon her, but truthfully, it has to be expected that there will be fewer projects that suit her. That may seem cruel, but it’s the nature of this business. So you can tell the General and the other shareholders that if they’re counting on her being the face of their brand, they’d be wise not to make it a long-term commitment. I understand they may not be happy to hear that, but the Syndicate has its own mandate. It can’t make decisions based on someone else’s commercial needs.”<
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  Ava leaned forward, but before she could say anything, Lop spoke up. “And what about the release of Mao’s Daughter?”

  “We have been directed by the Politburo Standing Committee to support films that extol patriotism,” Mo said. “It is important that people maintain correct views of our history, statehood, and culture. We are expressly forbidden to authorize the distribution of films that cater to vulgar interests and provoke unrest.”

  “And where does Mao’s Daughter rank in terms of ‘correct views’?”

  “It doesn’t rate well, and I’m sure that’s an opinion General Chik would share if he saw it.”

  “What you seem to be saying is that he’ll never have the opportunity.”

  “That is a decision that will be made within the Syndicate.”

  “Has it already been made?”

  “Nothing is final, but the prevailing opinion is that the film is unacceptable as it is presently constructed.”

  “Your positions on Pang Fai and the film could cause us problems,” Lop said.

  “That isn’t my concern. I have responsibilities that extend well beyond your commercialism, the needs of an aging actress, and a troublesome film,” he said. “Besides, it seems to me that she’s your real problem. If that’s the case, then you should just pay her more. I can tell you, if you pay her enough the woman will do just about anything.”

  “I don’t believe that insulting Pang Fai is necessary,” Ava said softly.

  Mo turned and stared at her. It was his first real acknowledgement that she was in the room. Ava had to give him credit for being smooth enough to turn his feelings about Fai and his reaction to the film into a response that neither admitted nor denied anything. He had been cold and bureaucratic until his very last comment.

  “I know why he’s here,” Mo said, nodding at Lop. “But why are you here?”

  “Ms. Lee is a partner and a major shareholder in the fashion business.”

  “And I have a question —”

  Before she could say anything else, the boardroom door opened and the assistant Hua reappeared. “You wanted me to tell you when fifteen minutes had elapsed,” she said. “It has.”

  Mo stood up. He was shorter and even broader than he looked when seated. “Give General Chik my regards. Tell him I wish him good luck with his business interests, and even better luck dealing with that woman,” he said, and then walked through the doorway.

  The assistant stepped aside for him. After he’d gone, she said, “I’ll walk the two of you to the elevator. Please give me your name tags before you leave.”

  “I’ll say this for him,” Ava said as she and Lop turned to leave the boardroom after Mo’s sudden departure. “He sure knows how to end a meeting.”

  ( 11 )

  Ava and Lop didn’t speak again until they were on the sidewalk. “What did you think of Mo, aside from the fact that he had us removed from the building so efficiently?” she said.

  “He’s smart and shrewd.”

  “Did you believe what he said about Pang Fai, the film, and the way the system operates? He made it all seem so innocuous.”

  Lop’s eyes met hers. “I think he’s full of shit when it comes to Pang Fai. For the rest of it, I don’t know.”

  “We need to talk this through.”

  “I agree. Do you want to do it over lunch?”

  “Sure. Shall we go back to the hotel to eat?”

  “No — I can’t come back to Beijing and not have duck. There’s a restaurant near here called Da Dong. It’s no more than a ten-minute walk.”

  Lop’s ten minutes was optimistic; it took closer to thirty to get to Da Dong. There was so much noise from the traffic, sidewalk vendors, and pedestrians that they couldn’t have had a conversation even if they’d wanted to. Ava thought several times that she should call Fai, but she didn’t want to shout, and she also thought it would be wise to hear what else Lop had to say before she did.

  They had missed the lunchtime traffic crunch but the restaurant was still almost full, and they were fortunate to be seated right away.

  “I’m going to have a beer. What are you drinking?” Lop asked.

  “Dry white wine.”

  “The only thing I ever order here is duck. Are you okay with that?”

  “Sure.”

  It took a few minutes for a server to get to their table, and when he did, Lop ordered the food and drink at once. “What did you think of Mo?” he asked when they were alone again.

  “I thought he was slick. He didn’t give us one direct answer, but all the implications were clear enough. I’m convinced that he plans to sabotage Pang Fai’s career and kill the film, but he never actually said so and left lots of wiggle room in case he’s ever challenged. He even made the Thailand trip seem innocent.”

  “He wouldn’t have hustled us out of the building the way he did if he was innocent,” Lop said. “And I don’t think he’ll be letting us back in there for a second round.”

  “I was certainly hoping for more than we got,” Ava said.

  “I guess I could have been more forceful.”

  “I thought you did just fine. We just happened to run into a real pro.”

  “So now what?”

  “We need to talk to him again, and we need to get him alone to do it.”

  “Any ideas on how to make that possible?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I have Mo’s home address, if that helps,” Lop said.

  “Where does he live?”

  “I wrote it down but didn’t really look at it,” Lop said, taking a piece of paper from his pocket. “Fuck, he lives in Zhangnanhai. Have you heard of it?”

  “I’ve been told it’s the new Forbidden City.”

  “Yes. There’s no way we’re going to be able to visit him there without his express approval. What does that leave us?”

  “Let me think about it. I’ll come up with something,” Ava said, her tone more confident than she felt.

  A server arrived with their drinks. As she poured, another server came to the table carrying platters of food.

  “I’m looking forward to this,” Lop said. “It’s the best duck I’ve ever had.”

  “What makes it so special?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ava was accustomed to duck brought to the table whole and then the skin being sliced off as thinly as possible by the server. At Da Dong the skin was brought to the table on one platter and the meat on another. As she watched the server place skin, meat, and accompaniments on the table, she asked, “Can you tell me why your duck has such a good reputation?”

  The server looked at her as if Ava had made a joke.

  “That is a serious question,” Ava said. “I want to know what makes it so different.”

  “Our cook starts by separating the skin from the fat by pumping air between them,” the server said carefully. “Then he marinates the bird in a house-made sauce and air-dries the skin before he roasts it. But where we are most special is that he cooks the duck for at least twenty minutes more than is typical, and he does it over burning fruitwood. This removes extra fat and makes the skin crisper and less oily. Here, try some.”

  The server took a sliver of skin, dipped it in sugar, and passed it to Ava. She took a bite and almost gasped as the crisp skin dissolved into a stream of flavour.

  “I also like what they do with the meat,” Lop said, picking up a hollow bun, into which he stuffed duck meat, bean paste, julienned cucumbers, radishes, and the white parts of scallions.

  They ate quietly, Lop more focused on the meat, while Ava went back and forth between that and the skin. It was the best duck she’d ever eaten, but her enjoyment was dulled by thoughts about Mo and what he might do to Fai and Mao’s Daughter. She was about to raise the issue again when her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the numb
er and hesitated before hitting the answer button.

  “This is Ava Lee,” she said.

  “What the fuck have you done?” an unfamiliar voice growled.

  “Who is this?”

  “Chen.”

  “And what is it that I’m supposed to have done?”

  “Mo!” he yelled.

  “What about Mo?” she said, her heart sinking.

  “Did you go to his office today?”

  “I did.”

  “Why? Why did you do that, you stupid fucking bitch?”

  Ava drew a deep breath, trying to stay calm and not overreact. “Our intention was to stop his exploitation of Fai and to secure some kind of future for her and Mao’s Daughter, but before we could secure those commitments, he rushed out of the boardroom. We aren’t finished with him yet.”

  “Who authorized you to do that? What kind of qualifications or credibility do you have?”

  “I’ve done things like this before,” she said.

  “Do you mean you’ve fucked up like this before? Because, believe me, that’s what you’ve done,” Chen shouted. “Those intentions you had — those good intentions — well, you’ve managed to achieve exactly the opposite result. As far as the Syndicate is concerned, Pang Fai is history, and the movie might as well never have been made.”

  “Mo told you that?”

  “Don’t show any more of your ignorance.”

  “Then how —”

  “He’s too smart to leave his fingerprints on anything,” Chen said. “His assistant Hua called me to say that Fai’s invitation to Thailand has been cancelled. Then Deng, the vice-president of creative development, phoned to say that two projects we proposed that had parts for Fai have been rejected. And ten minutes ago I heard from the VP of distribution that Mao’s Daughter isn’t going to be released unless major changes are made. What he didn’t say — and didn’t have to — was that eliminating every scene that has Fai in it is the only change that is acceptable.”