Flower Net (Red Princess 1)

“The ambassador will be with you as soon as he can,” Phil Firestone, William Watson’s attaché, said brusquely. “We’re in the middle of a crisis and, well, the ambassador is awfully busy.”

“I’d like to think that he’d place the murder of his son above international intrigue,” Hulan said, instantly striking an adversarial chord. For once, David agreed. He was tired of getting the runaround from this man.

“Naturally Ambassador Watson continues to mourn,” Firestone said smoothly. “But sometimes we have to put others above our own needs.”

“While we’re waiting, perhaps you can answer some questions,” David said.

Firestone started to roll his eyes, then caught himself. “Go ahead,” he said with a sigh.

“How do you process visa applications?”

Firestone shook his head slightly. “Visa applications? What do they have to do with anything?” When David didn’t respond, Firestone sighed again. “People come here. You’ve seen them outside. They stand in line. They get applications and fill them out. We interview the people. If someone wants to travel to the U.S. on business, we expect to see an official invitation from the sponsoring organization or business stateside. Potemkin Auto Leasing, the Audubon Society, the Baptist Church of Starkville, Mississippi, you name it, we’ve seen it. Nothing peculiar about it. The Chinese like to see the same types of formal invitations when they process visa applications for American citizens. I’ll bet you got an official invitation from the MPS before you came here.”

David nodded, then asked, “What if someone hasn’t been invited by a corporation in the U.S.?”

“We treat those cases quite a bit differently,” Firestone said. “After all, there are a lot of people in China who’d like to get out, and I’m not talking just about dissidents.”

It was amazing to Hulan what a few days and a lot of news headlines could do to a political toady like Firestone. His knee-jerk diplomacy of just one week ago had evaporated as easily as a late-spring snow shower. He now saw China as a hair’s breadth away from being a full-fledged enemy, while the MPS and its investigation were emblematic of all that was evil in the society.

David chose to ignore Firestone’s rudeness. “Who actually stamps the visas?”

“What are you talking about?” The young man’s patience was wearing thin. “If you’re accusing someone of something, why not spit it out?”

“Just answer the question,” David countered evenly.

“We’ve got a department full of people who do that. But, hell, I’ve stamped a couple of passports, even the ambassador has stamped them on occasion. It’s all perfectly legal.”

As on their last visit, the ambassador began speaking to them even before he entered the room. “We’re going to have to make this quick,” he said just before he appeared around the doorjamb. “I’m waiting for a call from the president,” he continued as he crossed the room, modulated his voice to the more intimate surroundings, shook David’s and Hulan’s hands perfunctorily, and took a seat. He barely paused before he summarily dismissed his adjutant. “Phil, get these folks some coffee.”

As soon as the young man left, the ambassador’s public demeanor fell away and was replaced by declarations of personal gratitude for the arrest, trial, and conviction of his son’s killer.

David and Hulan had discussed how to approach this man. Should they treat him as an adversary—a course Hulan recommended—or as the highest-ranking American citizen in China? This quandary was aggravated by the fact that they were here on two very different missions: one, to find out how Guang Henglai, Cao Hua, and the other couriers had gotten visas so easily; two, to break the news to Ambassador Watson that his son was, at the very least, involved with some pretty shady characters. They had decided that attacking on the visa issue was the most practical approach, since it would unquestionably provoke anger. Then they could tell Watson about his son. Somewhere along the way they hoped they’d learn something to save Spencer Lee.

But they didn’t get very far with their preliminary inquiries before Phil Firestone, who’d returned with the coffee, burst out with “Why do you keep asking about this visa bullshit? It has nothing to do with anything, and is just a waste of the ambassador’s time. I already told you that he’s very busy at present.”

“What we’re talking about here is a serious threat to national security,” David stated bluntly. “Illegally stamping passports is a federal crime. That translates, Firestone, into federal time in a federal penitentiary.”

Phil Firestone flushed a deep crimson.

David now directed his comments to the ambassador. “If there are any irregularities in the embassy, it wouldn’t be the first time. I’m sure the ambassador is aware of several cases where trusted employees overstepped their diplomatic bounds.”

“If you’re accusing me—” Firestone sputtered.

“Take it easy, Phil,” the ambassador cut in. “Can’t you see they’re just trying to get your goat? Go on back to your office. I’ll be fine. But when that call comes through, let me know right away, okay?”

When Firestone closed the door behind him, the ambassador said, “Come on, Stark, give the boy a break.”

David held his palms up and shrugged. “It was worth a try.”

The ambassador shook his head and smiled wanly. “I’ll look into this problem, all right? Now how else can I help you?”

“It’s about your son,” David said.

“If you’re going to tell me he got into trouble as a kid, believe me, there’s not much I don’t know. Billy had problems, no question, but things had really turned around for him the last couple of years.”

“The last couple of years?”

“He was doing well in college. Elizabeth and I were really proud of him for that.”