False Nine by Philip Kerr Read Free Book Online

in the Presidential Suite except for the fact that there seemed to be a little more cloud at this level. Then again, maybe that was just my outlook on the day. Cloudy with a chance of aggro.
    ‘Go away,’ I shouted. ‘I’m trying to sleep.’
    There was another knock and this time I picked up my iPhone and with the help of the translation app, I shouted the Chinese equivalent, ‘ Likai ! Likai !’ It sounded more polite than ‘fuck off’, which is what I felt like saying. My love affair with China was definitely over.
    ‘Mr Manson?’ said a man’s voice. ‘I need to speak with you on a matter of grave importance.’
    ‘If you’re from the newspapers you can sod off.’
    ‘I am not from the newspapers, Mr Manson. I promise you. Please, can we talk? Just for a minute. I can assure you that it will be to your advantage.’
    The man’s English was good enough to persuade me that the least I could do was answer the door and hear him out.
    I slipped off the bed and opened the door to reveal a Chinese man in his late forties. He was wearing a pair of jeans, sunglasses and a black leather jacket; around his neck were several silver necklaces and on his thin, bony fingers was a selection of grotesque rings. He looked like a Chinese version of Keith Richards.
    ‘Scott Manson?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Forgive me, Mr Manson. In the circumstances I know this will sound like a very strange question, but have we ever met before?’
    ‘It’s you that’s knocking on my hotel room door, remember?’
    ‘Please, if you could just answer the question. Before just now, had we ever met before?’
    I thought for moment. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
    ‘You’re quite sure about that?’
    ‘What is all this? You’re not a policeman, are you? You sound like a policeman.’
    ‘No, I’m not a policeman. But please. Just answer the question.’
    ‘No, I’m sure we haven’t met before. I think I might have remembered the necklaces and the rings. Not to mention the David Beckham aftershave.’
    ‘Too much?’
    I shrugged. ‘Depends if you like it or not. As it happens I don’t. I think it might have been made by the same people who made his whisky. It’s all alcohol and not much else.’
    ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ The man smiled. ‘So then. Let me introduce myself, Mr Manson. My name is Jack Kong Jia. I own the Nine Dragons Mining Company.’
    He paused for a moment to allow this information to sink in. Which it did. I felt a huge weight start to descend on my head. It reminded me of a time when I’d had a kick-about for a telly programme using one of those old leather footballs with laces. It had been waterlogged and when you headed it the thing was like a bloody cannonball. When you play with a ball like that you wonder how any of those lads on Gillette Soccer Saturday can manage to string two words together. Maybe that’s the real reason ITV ended Saint and Greavsie .
    ‘Since you admit that we’ve never met before, you’ll also admit that I couldn’t possibly have hired you to be the manager of the Shanghai Xuhui Nine Dragons football club.’
    ‘I don’t understand. You say that you’re Jack Kong Jia?’
    ‘I don’t say it. I am Jack Kong Jia. Yes, that’s correct, Mr Manson. I am he. I can see you still don’t believe me. Let me prove it to you.’
    He handed me his passport and after my initial surprise that a Chinese passport should be in Chinese and English I felt my heart sink as I saw that his name was indeed Jack Kong Jia. The passport also said that he was a businessman, and that he was unmarried.
    ‘So who was guy I met before?’
    ‘Did he show you his passport?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Then it may be that we shall never know. But if I might come in for a moment then perhaps we can find an answer to these and other questions.’
    ‘Yes, sure. Please. I think you better had.’
    Inside my room he collected the remote control off the bedside table and switched on the television. ‘Let me show something.