Philip Kerr - Gridiron

Mitch put up his hands. 'OK, OK.' He forked some kedgeree into his mouth. He had little appetite now his secret was out. 'You're not eating,' he observed.

Richardson glanced at his watch again. 'I don't want to spoil my game,' he said. 'Besides, I'm not really hungry. You can sure pick them, Mitch. I'll say that for you, buddy. I never figured you for the type.'

All of a sudden Mitch disliked himself almost as much as he disliked Ray Richardson. 'Neither did I,' he said unhappily.

'Look, Mitch, I want you to ask Jenny a small favour.'

'That means it's a large one. What is it?'

'I want you to get Jenny to sign off on the Yu building's feng shui before we go ahead and make the changes.'

'Why?'

'I'll tell you. Mr Yu himself wants to make the inspection, that's why. And he'll feel a lot happier walking around the place if he knows your fucking girlfriend has given it the OK. OK? He'll be less likely to find fault with things. If there was time to make all her half-assed changes before he came on site then we would, but there isn't. It's that simple. Look, Mitch, it's really only for one day. After that she can tear the certificate up again, come up with some new objections if she wants to. But as soon as YK gives it the nod we can hit him with our fees. It's been an expensive few months, what with opening the German office.'

'I hear you. But I'm not sure she'll do it. I know it's a hard thing for someone like you to understand, but she's got principles.'

'Promise her a week in Venice. The two of you. Any hotel you like. The Cipriani, if you want. I'll pay.'

'I'll try my best,' Mitch said wearily, 'but she won't like it. She's not just some kind of fairground gypsy, Ray. It's not a question of crossing her palm with enough silver. Jenny believes in what she does. And don't forget two people have died in that place. Jenny certainly hasn't forgotten.'

'But you will try and persuade her.'

'Yes. Yes, all right, I will try. But it won't be easy. And I want your word, Ray. That if she does sign the certificate, then she won't get screwed. That we'll carry out all the changes like we're supposed to.'

Richardson shrugged. 'Sure. No problem. And screwing her? Well that's down to you, buddy.'

'I hope it's just the feng shui that's at fault,' said Mitch.

'What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Relax, will you? Things will be just fine, I know it. I've got a good feeling about this job. Good luck is simply a matter of working hard and being prepared. My pre-PCI inspection is this Friday, right? With the whole project team on site. The building in action, so to speak, a working demonstration. Push a few buttons.'

Mitch decided to press a button of his own. 'That cop wants me to have the elevators checked out,' he said bluntly. 'He reckons it's possible they might have had something to do with Sam Gleig's accident.'

Richardson frowned. 'Who the hell's Sam Gleig?'

'C'mon. The security guard. The one who got killed.'

'But I thought they already arrested someone for that. One of those pain-in-the-ass demonstrators."

'They did. But they let him go again.'

'There's nothing wrong with those elevators. They're the most sophisticated elevators anywhere in California.'

'That's what I told this cop. They're working just fine. Aidan Kenny and I checked them ourselves. But he still wants Otis to come and take a look at them.'

'And where's this guy now? The one they arrested.'

'Free, I guess.'

'Free to stand outside my building and hand out more leaflets?'

'I suppose so, yes.'

'Dumb bastards.' Richardson picked up the telephone and called his secretary. 'Dumb fucking… Shannon. Get me Morgan Phillips, will you?'

He grimaced and shook his head. 'At his home? Yeah, where else? It's Sunday.' He replaced the receiver and nodded. 'I'll fix this in five minutes.'

'You're calling the deputy mayor? On a Sunday? What are you going to do, Ray?'

'Don't worry, I'll be at my most diplomatic.'

Mitch raised an eyebrow.

'Relax, Morgan's a friend of mine. We play tennis together. And believe me, he owes me more favours… I'm going to get those bastards moved off the piazza. Out of your hair. I was going to have to do it anyway: the last thing we want is them outside again when YK turns up for the PCI.'

'Why bother?' shrugged Mitch. 'They're just a bunch of kids.'

'Why bother? Mitch, one of them broke your windshield, for

Chrissakes. You could have been killed.'

'I wasn't actually in the car at the time, Ray.'

'That's not the point. Besides, one of them is a suspect in a murder inquiry. Once they've seen there's nothing wrong with those fucking elevators the cops will have to bring him back in. You can bet on it.'

'Alison? It's Allen.'

Alison Bryan sighed impatiently. 'Allen who?'

'Allen Grabel.'

She took a big bite of the apple she was holding and said: 'And?'

'I work with Mitch. At Richardsons.'

'Oh.' Alison's tone turned cooler. 'Well, that's nice for you. What do you want?'

'Is Mitch there?'

'No,' she said flatly.

'Do you know where he is?'

'Of course I know where he is. What do you think, I don't know where my own husband is? What kind of a wife do you think I am?'

'No, I didn't mean… Look, Alison, I need to get in touch with him. It's really very urgent.'

'Sure it is. It's always urgent with you people. He's at Richardson's house. Seems like they had some business to discuss. As if they don't see enough of each other during the week. You could call him there, I guess. Who knows? Maybe they're in bed together.'

'No. No, I'd rather not call him there. Look, could you ask him to call me? The minute he gets home?'

'Is it anything to do with that stupid Gridiron building?'

She always made a point of referring to smart buildings as stupid, just to irritate Mitch.

'Kind of, yes.'

'Today's Sunday. That's the day of rest in case you'd forgotten. Can't it wait until tomorrow?'

'I don't think so. And I'd rather not speak to him at the studio. It would be better if he could call me. Tell him… Tell him…'

'Tell him what? That you love him?' She laughed at her own wit. 'That you're leaving on a jet plane? What?'

Grabel gave a profound sigh. 'Look, please make sure that he gets this message. OK?'

'Well surely.'

But Grabel had already hung up.

'Shithead,' said Alison and took another bite of her apple. She picked up a pen and held it momentarily over a notepad. Then she thought better of it. It was bad enough that Mitch was working on a Sunday. He spoke to his colleagues every day at the studio. She tossed the pen aside.

It was a couple of days before Mitch could bring himself to face Jenny Bao with his awkward mission. It would not be easy to persuade her to come round to Richardson's idea. He knew that she loved him, but that did not mean she was in his pocket. He left home early, bought some flowers at a service station on the Freeway, and was at the grey wooden bungalow before eight-fifteen. For another ten minutes he sat in the car justifying to himself what he was about to do. After all, it was only a temporary certificate. Just a few days. Not much harm in that. The morning was a fine one. Jenny's house looked neat and wellmaintained. Two orange trees in terracotta pots flanked the steps up to the mahogany front door. Mitch wondered what another feng shui consultant would have had to say about the auspices for his morning's errand.

He got out of the car, rang the bell and found Jenny already dressed, wearing a sweatshirt and pants. She was pleased to see him but he could tell she was suspicious about the flowers. He never brought flowers.

'Would you like some tea?' she asked. 'Or something else?'

Normally the 'something else' remark would have led to them making love. But Mitch felt that going to bed would be inappropriate in the circumstances. So he said yes to the tea and watched her as she made it in her own peculiar Chinese way. As soon as he had the little porcelain cup in his hands he came to the point, apologizing for having to ask, recognizing that he was putting her in a difficult position, but emphasizing the fact that the lie would only remain in existence for two or three days at the most. Jenny heard him out, raising her teacup to her lips with both hands, almost ceremonially, and then when he had finished, nodded without saying a word.

'Is that a yes?' said Mitch, surprised.

'No,' she sighed. 'Out of deference to you, I'm thinking about it.'

Well, that was something he thought. He had expected her to say no outright. It was two or three minutes before she spoke again.

'Kanyu, or feng shui to you, is a religious thing. It's part of the Tao. The cardinal concept in Taoism is the Absolute. To possess the fullness of the Tao means to be in perfect harmony with one's original nature. What you're asking me to do would disrupt that harmony.'

'I understand,' he said. 'I'm asking a lot, I know.'

'Is this completion inspection really so important?'

'Very,' he said.

She was silent for another minute. Then she put her arms around him.

'On the face of it, I'm inclined to say no, for the reasons I mentioned. But because it's you, and because I love you, I don't want to let you down. Give me twenty-four hours. You'll have my answer then.'

'Thanks,' he said. 'I understand how difficult this must be.'

Jenny smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

'No, Mitch, I don't think you do understand. If you did, then you would never have asked.'

'But you're not giving up now,' said the Japanese. 'Surely…'

'You bet I'm giving up,' said Cheng Peng Fei.

'Why? You were just beginning to get the idea.'

'Someone tried to frame me for murder of a security guard at the Yu Corp.'

They were back in the Mon Kee Restaurant on North Spring Street with the Japanese working his way through another tableful of food, and Cheng Peng Fei nursing a solitary beer.

'Frame you?' The Japanese laughed. 'You sound like Jimmy Cagney.'

'Believe me, I was lucky to get away. I thought the police were going to charge me. I'm still not sure they've entirely given up on me. I had to surrender my passport.'

'Who would want to frame you, Cheng?'

'I don't know,' shrugged Cheng. 'Maybe someone from the Yu

Corporation. Maybe you. Yes, maybe you did it.'

'Me?' The Japanese sounded amused by the idea. 'Why me?'

'Maybe you killed that security guard.'

'I sincerely hope you didn't present this theory of yours to the police.'

'I didn't mention you. How could I? I don't even know your name. You've been careful that way.'

'Maybe you're wearing a wire as we speak.'

'Maybe.' But as he said it Cheng unbuttoned his shirt to show that there was nothing taped to his chest. 'Anyway,' he added, 'the demo's ended. Someone in City Hall got on to Immigration and had us all checked out. One or two were in violation of their visas. They were supposed to be studying English, not making money working in restaurants.'

The Japanese shook his head sadly.

'That's too bad,' he said. 'I guess now I'll have to get involved myself. Score something off my own bat.'

'Like what?'

'Oh, I don't know. Maybe a little sabotage. You wouldn't believe what I'm capable of.'

'You're wrong about that. I think you're probably capable of just about anything.'

The Japanese stood up.

'You know, if I were you, Cheng, I'd make sure I'd got myself a good alibi.'