Read The Firemaker for Free Online

popular this year, another the next. And the beautiful people move on.’ Margaret was aware of an increasing rancour in his tone now. ‘Still, I can’t say I miss them. The aesthetic can become somewhat tedious, don’t you think?’ But he wasn’t really interested in what she thought. He went on without pausing, ‘A steady supply of whisky’s all a man really needs. And from a quiet corner in here the solitary drinker can always watch the ridiculous spectacle of the Chinese nouveaux riches in search of status. My name’s McCord, by the way. J. D. McCord.’ He held out his hand, and she felt compelled to shake it. She had expected it to be limp and damp. Instead, it held her a little too firmly, and there was something almost reptilian in its cold, dry touch. ‘And you are?’
    ‘Margaret Campbell.’ She felt trapped by his politeness. And the arrival of her vodka tonic, on his bill, slammed the door on immediate escape.
    ‘Well, Margaret Campbell, what brings you to Beijing?’
    There was nothing else for it. She took a long sip of her vodka and almost immediately felt its effect. ‘I’m lecturing for six weeks at the People’s University of Public Security.’
    ‘Are you indeed?’ McCord seemed impressed. ‘And what’s your subject?’
    ‘Forensic pathology.’
    ‘Jeez! You mean you cut people open for a living?’
    ‘Only when they’re dead.’
    He grinned. ‘I’m safe for a while, then.’ And for one malicious, wishful moment, she visualised taking a circular saw round the top of his skull and watching his addled, alcoholic brain plop out into a shiny stainless-steel dish. His Scotch arrived and he took a long slug. ‘So … you just got here?’ She nodded and sucked in more vodka. ‘You’ll be needing someone to show you the ropes, then.’
    ‘Someone like you?’
    ‘Sure. I’ve been here nearly six years. Know all the wrinkles.’
    ‘You’ve stayed here for six years?’ She was astonished at the thought of anyone staying in a hotel for that long.
    ‘Hell, no, I don’t stay at the Friendship. I only drink here. My company’s got me staying at the Jingtan on the other side of town. Goddamn place is full of Japs. Can’t stomach ’em. But that’s only the last two years. Before that I was in the south.’ He shook his head, remembering personal horrors. ‘Coming here was like dying and going to heaven.’ He put his hand out quickly. ‘But don’t go reaching for that scalpel just yet. I ain’t really dead. That was just a metaphor.’
    ‘Simile,’ she corrected him.
    ‘Whatever.’ He drained his glass. ‘So. Can I buy you dinner?’
    ‘Afraid not.’
    He grinned, unabashed. ‘Hey, I don’t mind a woman playing hard to get. I enjoy the chase.’
    Margaret finsihed her vodka, its heady warmth making her bold. ‘I’m not playing hard to get. I’m just not available.’
    ‘Is that tonight? Or ever?’
    ‘Both.’
    He chewed that over for a moment, then pushed his empty glass towards the barman. ‘Fill her up. You want another?’ She shook her head. ‘So, where are you eating tonight – if I may be so bold?’
    ‘She go eat banquet.’ Lily had entered unnoticed. ‘And we late,’ she said to Margaret. For once Margaret was almost relieved to see her.
    ‘Banquet, huh? Quanjude Beijing Duck, by any chance?’
    Margaret was taken aback. ‘How did you know that?’
    ‘Because everyone from the President of the United States to even a humble forensic pathologist gets the Beijing Duck treatment. Enjoy.’ He raised his glass then took a long pull at it as Lily steered Margaret down the hall.
    ‘You know him? ‘she asked disapprovingly.
    ‘No, I don’t know him. I just met him. Who is he?’
    ‘McCord. Everyone in Beijing know McCord. He work for Chinese government, got guanxi , big connection. And he like pay Chinese girl for …’ She broke off. Suddenly, uncharacteristically, self-conscious. ‘For … something no one else want give