“Continue,” Liu instructed.
“Of course.” Xiao got himself back on track. “Our arrangements to ruin Burbank are in place.”
“Acceptable. But, as we both know, no substitute. Burbank needs to suffer great personal loss—soon. Only then can he die. Let’s move on. Where do things stand with Martino?”
“The employment agency you had me acquire continues to service Martino’s clothing factory and to squeeze him dry. He’s approaching bankruptcy. And his guilt and liquor consume him, body and soul. He might take his own life before we get the chance to do it for him. If not, I’ll see to that personally, as well.”
“Good.” The Dragon Head nodded, somewhat appeased. “And the others?”
“Fox is still mourning his personal loss and ultimate rejection. Leary is drowning in debt, thanks to his addiction and his bookie. I can execute each of them whenever you choose, in whatever manner you see fit.”
“Soon,” Liu said. “And, again, by your hand, and your hand alone. That applies to all five men. I want them to endure brutal, agonizing deaths. Until then, escalate their suffering. Kill Burbank’s wife. Target his daughter. Push Martino over the edge. Bleed Leary dry. Prepare to make Fox’s loss an actual fatality. As for Johnson—no amount of torture is enough.” The Dragon Head’s tone was filled with such uncharacteristic venom that it caught Xiao Long off guard. Liu was a man who exhibited nothing but self-control.
The surprise must have registered on Xiao’s face, because his Dragon Head studied him again before he spoke. “It’s time you learned the truth about Meili’s death. There are rumors that she died by her own hand. I say Johnson killed her. He didn’t wield the knife. But he might as well have. Just as Burbank, Martino, Fox, and Leary might as well have twisted the blade in her heart.”
“They knew your daughter?”
“Indeed they did. Especially Johnson. He knew her far too well.”
This was not what Xiao Long had expected. “I thought that you and Johnson were business associates.”
“And so we were—and still are, in Johnson’s mind. But back then, our association was untarnished. He made many trips to Hong Kong for his investment firm. We had frequent business dealings. They were all honorable.”
“So he met Meili…”
“Not then,” Liu replied curtly. “Not until several years after she left home.”
Xiao was already situated in New York when Liu’s only child had run off. But he’d made the necessary arrangements to be instantly apprised about anything that affected his mentor. So he knew that Meili had left home. She’d been just seventeen at the time. And Liu had been crushed. So Xiao had respected his privacy and had asked no questions.
The answers were now being provided.
“She was so young and so headstrong,” Liu murmured. “A budding artist. I saw signs of great talent. I would have used all my resources to properly educate her and to open the doors to a thriving career. But Meili…” A heavy sigh. “She wanted no part of it. She was naive and free-spirited enough to believe she could make it on her own. So one night while I slept, she disappeared. She took nothing but two paintings. Both Rothbergs, including the one you took such great pains to acquire for me.”
“She sold them?”
“One at a time, yes. In order to eat and put a roof over her head. But she was swindled on each sale. As a result, she could barely scrape by. Her lifestyle…let’s say it became unacceptable. I demanded she return home. She refused. I had no choice but to sever ties with her. She’d defied me, stolen from me, and brought shame to our family.” A pause. “We didn’t see each other again—not until just before she died.”
Liu’s expression remained unchanged, as did his tone, but Xiao could sense the pain and anger beneath the surface.
“She came to me then, like a trampled flower,” the Dragon Head continued. “She’d been defiling herself with an older, married man. An American, who came to her whenever he was in China on business. The affair had been ongoing for over three years—ever since he and his partners tried pressuring her into selling them the second Rothberg for a price too absurd to mention. They saw how desperate she was. And they used that to their advantage.”
“They tried buying the painting,” Xiao echoed. “She refused?”
“Yes, but only because she got a slightly better offer—one that was still an insult. Worse, she sold both Rothbergs to competing triads.”
/> Xiao knew the severity of such a betrayal. But he wisely didn’t say anything about it. “And the American she was involved with?” He refrained from speaking Johnson’s name.
“According to Meili, he had become totally enchanted with her. He lavished her with spending money and jewels, and professions of love. That turned out to be a facade. He’d reduced my daughter to nothing but a common whore. One night, in what he considered to be a moment of levity, he revealed to her that his friend and partner, Ben Martino, had come up with the idea of a bet. All his partners—the same ones who’d tried swindling her—had participated.”
“What kind of bet?” Xiao Long was processing this onslaught of information as quickly as he could.
“The men placed wagers on how long it would take Johnson to bed my daughter.” A hard swallow. “Evidently, Meili still had a shred of dignity left. When she heard that her love affair was the result of a bet, she was shamed and angry. She ended the affair at once. That bastard Johnson didn’t even understand why. He would have continued their involvement indefinitely—a married man defiling my daughter, with no plans for a future with her. And all at the instigation of a bet. A bet made by thieves who’d steal from a desperate young woman who was clearly at the end of her rope.”
“I don’t understand. You say there was respect between you and Johnson. Yet he was dishonoring your daughter while continuing his business relationship with you.”
“He didn’t know Meili was my daughter. She told him only her given name.” Another pause. “When she came to me, it was shortly after she had tossed Johnson aside. She was carrying his child. She was far too proud to seek him out and turn to him for help. But she was alone and penniless. She wanted my help. When I heard her story, I was so overcome with shame and rage, I turned her away. It was a mistake. By the time I went after her, it was too late. She’d slit her wrists, and bled to death all alone. It was only afterward, when I read her suicide note, that I found out Johnson was the man who’d dishonored her. From that moment, I vowed that, if it took my entire life, I would avenge Meili’s death. Now you know why you’re aiding me. But my revenge is not complete. I won’t feel peace until Johnson has been tortured to the point where he has no desire to live, at which time I’ll oblige him. And the others? The heartless animals who pushed my child into destitution, and then placed wagers on how long it would take for her to become a rich man’s prostitute? They must pay as well. Have nothing. Be nothing. And then die—just as Meili did.”
“I understand.” This explanation was vital. It clarified much about the Dragon Head’s orders over the years.