He slapped Nash on the shoulder and went back inside.
Nash looked down at the streets of Hong Kong all those stories below. It would be easy to jump. In sixty stories it would all be over. Yes, that would be the easy way out. The hard path would be to stay here and finish what he came here to do. And Nash knew which course he would be pursuing. Every time his confidence failed him, all he needed to do was conjure up the image of his dead daughter, and it supplied his spine with necessary steel.
He thought things through, particularly his conversation with Temple. It didn’t bother him that the man had just lied to him. He had expected nothing less now that their goals were no longer aligned. Yet he wondered why Steers had given Temple an out. He had either agreed to go back and run Sybaritic as before and let her continue to use his platform for her illegal business, or else he had offered to put one of Steers’s people in as CEO.
So Steers wins, Temple wins, and you lose, Nash. But do you really? This is actually what you wanted. To stay here and keep working it from the inside. And then when the opportunity arises, kill her and end this whole thing.
He turned when he saw one of Steers’s bodyguards appear at the sliding glass door.
“Ms. Steers wishes a word with you. Now.” He said all of this with a grimace, as though something distasteful was in his mouth.
Nash reluctantly followed the guard to the elevator.Okay, here we go for round two. And I thought surviving Myanmar was hard.
CHAPTER
30
NASH WAS TAKEN TO Alarge study that held a gas fireplace. This struck him as odd, since even in its coldest months Hong Kong never got much below fifty degrees Fahrenheit.
But perhaps because of her injuries Steers feels the chill more? Ironic if fire could make you cold.
There was a large desk with a closed laptop on it. The shelves held many books and some small sculptures and photos. As he waited for Steers he wandered the room looking at the books and pictures.
Reading-wise she seemed to favor business books, but there were also a number of spy classics from John LeCarré and Eric Ambler.
He pulled one book off the shelf and glanced through the pages. It was full of handwritten marginalia and underlined sections. It wasThe Art of War, attributed to the fifth-century BC Chinese military strategist Sun Tzu.
Nash read through the notes carefully before he put the book back on the shelf and turned his attention to the array of photos displayed on a waist-high counter of one of the built-in shelving units.
In one photo were seven people: a far younger and regal-looking Masuyo; her presumably English husband, Joseph Steers, who was short and beefy with reddish hair; and in between them, five children, also presumably theirs. The oldest was a boy who looked to be around fourteen. There were two more sons, and a daughter who looked to be about eight. The youngest, who was standing next to her mother, was Victoria Steers, and she looked to be around five. She was already tall for her age while the other children seemed to have taken after their diminutive father.
Masuyo was staring directly into the camera with an imperious expression, while Victoria shyly glanced off to the side, with her ankles crossed, and fingers hovering near her mouth. Victoria was dressed in a frilly white dress with black ballet flats. Her hair was done in pigtails, and though she wasn’t looking directly at the camera, the one eye visible seemed full of mischief. She actually looked quite cute and. . .normal, thought Nash grudgingly.
So what the hell happened to transform the woman into a monster?
As he looked at her four siblings he answered his own question.
The competition happened, instigated by her mother, and she killed her three brothers and one sister and took control. And the cute little shy girl was gone forever.
Nash was surprised, considering their fates, that Steers had even kept photos of her siblings.
“I did not mean to keep you waiting.”
Nash turned to see Steers standing in the doorway. She seemed to move with the silence of a ghost.
“That’s okay. It’s an interesting andenlighteningroom.”
Steers glanced sharply at the photo he’d been looking at and a frown creased her face. Steers walked behind the desk and sat, motioning for him to sit across from her.
“It is quiet in here and I can think,” she said tersely. “Everyone needs such a space, even if it exists only in their minds.”
“I see you’re a reader.”
“I value books, yes. They broaden horizons and they also allow one to learn from the mistakes of others.”
He nodded and sat back.And now to business, he thought.
“I presume that Mr. Temple spoke with you?” she said.