Page 18 of Roberto

Han raised an eyebrow at her as though asking for permission. She gestured her head towards the door, at which point Han knocked.

A muffled voice said something in Chinese – probably,Come in.

Han led me into a minimalistic office. There was a beautiful wooden desk, several black leather chairs, and nothing elseother than a stunning view of the glass and steel canyons of Hong Kong’s skyscrapers.

Behind the desk sat an Asian man around 60. Despite his receding hairline, his hair was still black. He had a soft face and a grandfatherly smile, but his eyes were sharp and cunning. He wore a grey suit jacket with a Nehru collar that looked like it was from another era of Chinese history.

“Mr. Lau,” I said.

“Mr. Rosolini – welcome,” he replied with a British accent. “Please, sit.”

I took one of the seats across from him. Han sat in the other chair.

I glanced at Han, perplexed, as Lau continued with mundane pleasantries. “Did you have a nice flight?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good, good. You know, I was surprised to get your message this morning. It was… unexpected.”

“Mr. Han used that exact same word,” I said with a forced smile.

“Perhaps because it describes the situation perfectly. What brings you to Hong Kong?”

“I would prefer to speak to you about that in private.”

Lau smiled. “Mr. Han is completely trustworthy. Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of him.”

“It’s a matter of some delicacy.”

“I assure you, Mr. Han is very discreet.”

“I must insist,” I said coolly.

Lau dropped his smile and all pretense of pleasantness. “And I must insist otherwise. If that is a problem for you, Mr. Rosolini, there is the door.”

I silently cursed myself. I was in the weaker position; starting out with a demand that could so easily be denied was stupid. Niccolo wouldn’t have made such a strategic blunder.

But then, that was why he wasconsigliere.

I was the money man. My strength was numbers – and I had to believe that numbers would carry the day.

But first I needed to establishwhyI needed Lau’s help.

“Alright,” I said. “You’re aware of what my family does for a living?”

Lau’s smile returned. “Yes, I am.”

“My uncle is in the same business. In fact, he used to be my father’s right-hand man. Over the last 24 hours, he tried to have two of my brothers killed.”

“Oh, my,” Mr. Lau said, sounding surprised and compassionate.

“We also discovered that eight months ago, my uncle paid someone to murder our father – his own brother.”

“Oh dear,” Lau said, looking pained. “That’s horrible.”

“In addition to his acts of violence, my uncle has also attacked us financially. By using threats, bribes, or blackmail against bank officials, he managed to steal 28 million euros from our accounts.”

“How terrible,” Mr. Lau said, then frowned slightly. “But I fail to see how it explains why you are here.”

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