Dead in Hong Kong (Nick Teffinger Thriller) Read Online Free Page B

I’ll cover everything.”

Chapter Eight
    Day Four—August 6
    Thursday Morning
    ______________
     
    A RAVEN-HAIRED FLIGHT ATTENDANT with white teeth sat down next to Teffinger an hour into the flight, looked into his eyes, and said, “I thought that’s what I saw. They’re two different colors. One’s blue and one’s green.”
    He nodded.
    “I like to wear my flaws up front,” he said. “That way no one gets surprised down the road.”
    She chuckled.
    “You don’t look like you have too many flaws.”
    Her name turned out to be Ling Ling.
    She lived in Hong Kong.
    She ended up sitting next to Teffinger more than she should.
    “Tell me about Hong Kong,” he said.
    She gathered her thoughts and then said, “Hong Kong is a hurricane, a big powerful unstoppable hurricane, blowing at full force, all day and all night. Everything you want is there somewhere, every earthly pleasure and every earthly sin.” She cocked her head. “Personally, I like the sins better, myself.”
    He smiled.
    “That sounds reasonable.”
    “I’ll show you Hong Kong, if you want,” she said. “I’m not talking about the buildings and the streets and the restaurants. I’m talking about the real Hong Kong, the one under the clothes.”
    “Under the clothes, huh?”
    She ran a finger across his hand.
    “Yes, the secret Hong Kong.”
     
    THE FLIGHT GOT IN JUST AS THE SUN BROKE over the horizon. Surprisingly, from the sky, the place actually did look like a hurricane. The eye of that hurricane, namely the sci-fi skyscrapers of Hong Kong’s central business district, sat on the north edge of Hong Kong Island, sandwiched between a mountain range to the south and the blue waters of Victoria Harbour to the north. That was the no-nonsense hunting ground of the rich and powerful, where top dollar and bottom lines ruled. Across the water to the north, a short ferry ride away, sat the bustling Kowloon district, given to shopping, hotels, apartment complexes, neon signs and crazy traffic.
    Teffinger felt his pulse race.
    Ling Ling gave him her number and told him to call.
    “I will,” he said.
    “Promise,” she said.
    He hesitated and then said, “I promise.”
    She ran a finger over his lips.
    “Don’t break your promise, Nick Teffinger ,” she said.
    “I won’t.”
    “Are you sure?”
    He nodded.
    “I have a lot of flaws, but that’s not one of them.”
    They kissed, j ust a taste , and parted.
    Outside, Teffinger stuck his head in a cab and said, “Do you know where a hotel called the Fleming is?”
    A 60-year-old face grinned.
    “Yeah, but I’m going to pretend like I don’t and drive around and run the meter up, if that’s okay with you.”
    Teffinger grinned.
    “Honesty,” he said. “I like that. What’s your name?”
    “Butch.”
    “Butch?”
    “Right, Butch.”
    “You look Chinese.”
    “That’s probably because both my parents are Chinese and because I was born here.”
     
    BUTCH TOLD TEFFINGER a few things about the lay of the land. Although he’d hear plenty of Cantonese—which was a southern Chinese dialect—almost everyone spoke English too, very good English in fact. English signs almost universally accompanied their Chinese counterparts. Lots of the locals went by a western name in addition to their formal Chinese name.
    Johnny.
    Lilly.
    Jack.
    Currency was in Hong Kong dollars (HKD), with the current exchange rate being seven-to-one. ATMs were everywhere and plastic got whipped out of wallets faster than dicks at a whore house. Bottom line— Teffinger would be able to function without much of a problem.
    “What about coffee?” Teffinger asked. “Tell me there’s coffee.”
    “Coffee?”
    “Right.”
    “No, no coffee here,” Butch said. “Coffee is not good for you. We drink mostly prune juice.”
    Teffinger must have had a look on his face because Butch busted into laughter and added, “Got you.”
    “Got me?”
    “Right, got you.”
    “So there is coffee, right? Just to be sure