Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 Alistair Oh had nothing against brass wristwear, but handcuffs created unsightly marks on one's skin. As the police van jounced along a road west of Jakarta, he carefully adjusted the metal shackle so it was over the cuff of his Egyptian-cotton shirt. This sort of thing was a good distraction from the chaos in his brain. Nothing made sense anymore— how could Irina Spasky be dead? Why had she saved him and the children? He had only been able to stare in disbelief. He had been a coward, just as he'd been seven years ago… Don't think of that now. He had to keep his head clear. There were more immediate problems.

The car bounced over a pothole, and Alistair heard a grunt of complaint from the front. From the person who had framed him. The person he had stupidly assumed would be Isabel Kabra. From the front passenger seat, a familiar gaunt old man turned stiffly. "Are you experiencing discomfort, Alistair? You are certainly looking well for someone who died in Pukhansan Park." Bae Oh's words cut through Alistair like a rusty blade. He stared at his uncle, trying to detect a shred of feeling in the steel-gray eyes. As a child, Alistair had been afraid of Bae, from the day the old man took custody of him. Which was immediately after the mysterious murder of Gordon Oh, Alistair's father. Bae had been second in line to the leadership of the Ekaterina branch. All that lay in his way was his brother Gordon. At Gordon's funeral, Bae appeared to be sobbing. Alistair was only five, but he never forgot staring at his uncle's cheeks and seeing they were bone dry. The innocent wept. The guilty pretended. "I commend you, Uncle, on your acting

abilities," Alistair said. "They have improved since I was a boy. Did you convince the police that I set the fire?" "I fail to understand your hostility toward me, Alistair," Bae said. "I do have a heart, you know. Your obituaries in the Seoul newspapers moved me, and I rejoiced when I learned you were alive. Even after that bit of drama in my office, which I must add was rather baffling. Has it occurred to you that you are being unfair to me?" "An interesting claim, with me here in the back of a police car," Alistair said. "First things first," Bae said. "Perhaps you would like to tell me how you survived the cave-in." "Life must retain some of its mysteries, don't you think?" Alistair said. "You certainly have your own." Bae sighed. "I tried my whole life to groom you, Alistair. You had so much potential. I thought we could share the duties of Ekat leadership— I as branch head, you as my successor. Why did you never take responsibility? Spending time with those wretched American children. Did I teach

you nothing, my son?" "I am not your son," Alistair said through tightly clenched teeth. "I am the son of Gordon Oh." Bae bowed his head. "Dear, dear Gordon…" Tell him, Alistair thought. Confront him now. Why was it so hard to face up to Bae? Alistair had had the opportunity after the cave-in. He'd sneaked into Bae's office, scared away his secretary. I had him all alone, but I walked away. I didn't do a thing. He. Must. Not. Scare. Me. Any. Longer. Alistair took a deep breath. "I found the letter," he said calmly. "You wrote it on Oh stationery in 1948. A letter concerning a payment for the murder of Father." Bae's eyes widened. "It was a payment for driving!" "Five thousand dollars to drive across town— the exact day Father was murdered?" Alistair said. "With the command to 'destroy letter immediately'?"

"It was a lump payment to the limo company for several months' business. And for your information, we routinely destroyed all our correspondence!" Bae stared at his nephew in shock, slowly shaking his head. "Honestly, Alistair, you surprise me." Alistair, you surprise me… Alistair, you disappoint me… Alistair, how could you have been expelled from college… AGAIN? Alistair shook off memories that never seemed to fade, no matter how old he was. He was letting Bae into his soul again. He will lie to your face because he knows you will lose your cool, Alistair told himself. And then, once again, he will own you. Alistair met his uncle's glance. "How am I to trust someone who lies to the police about his own nephew?" he said. "You know I didn't set the fire, and you will never make that charge stick." Opening his overcoat, Bae patted a thick leather wallet that jutted from an inner pocket. "I have ways of influencing what sticks and what does not.

And I can be persuaded to use that influence to your benefit." Alistair laughed. "Lies and bribes, as always—" "Unlike you, Alistair, I value the truth," Bae said. "You are an Ekaterina. And yet you withhold the truth from me, your erstwhile guardian and branch leader. All you need do is give what you owe me— the truth about what happened on that island, and all you have learned about Robert Cahill Henderson's discoveries." "I… will… never…" "Watch that blood pressure, my son," Bae said. "Your years as a failed junk-food magnate have taken their toll. Too many cheese burritos weaken the heart." Alistair closed his eyes briefly and remembered something his father told him, a phrase he had never understood as a child: Silence is strength. He breathed deep and then stared calmly at Bae Oh. "Well?" Bae asked. Alistair suddenly lurched back in the seat. His body convulsed once, twice. He gasped for air,