Ghost Hero by S. J. Rozan Read Free Book Online

rules.”
    “Yes, well, no harm done.” Haig’s smile was as bogus as Bill’s. “So.” He seated himself at the table, too. “Now that you’ve invaded my office and ruined my meeting, who the hell are you and why shouldn’t I throw you out?”
    “Leetle Neeky don’t tell you?” Bill spread his hands in surprise. “Vladimir Oblomov. I’m new collector.”
    “How nice. So what?”
    “Sorry about meetink, by da vay. Looked interestink.”
    “Forget it. She’s pathetic, and so’s her work. You saved me a wasted afternoon. Which doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”
    “No,” Bill said, grinning. “But I’m looking for someting, maybe you hev it.”
    “ If I don’t throw you out, and if it’s a question of what’s in our inventory, Nick has the complete catalog and can sit you down with a PowerPoint presentation.”
    Bill shook his head cheerfully. “Leetle Neek tells me he got no idea vat I’m talking about. Dah?” Bill looked at me and I nodded. “But I’m theenking, Meester Haig, he knows everytink about dese Chinese. Maybe he can tell me.”
    Haig waited, and finally asked, “Tell you what?”
    Bill’s smile split his face in two. “Tell me vether you got new paintinks by Chau Gvai Yink Shunk.”
    It took Haig a few moments to figure out exactly what Bill had said, he’d managled the Chinese so badly. “Gwai Ying Shung? The Ghost Hero? New? What are you talking about? Chau’s been dead for twenty years.”
    “So efferybody says. But I hear somebody has new paintinks.”
    “You mean, just found?”
    “No, Meester Haig, I mean chust painted. New.”
    “That’s absurd.”
    “So you don’t know nothink?”
    “Of course not. Mr.—Oblomov?—if someone’s told you that, they’re joking. Or they’re trying to separate you from your money.”
    “Taking edventage?” Bill seemed unable to comprehend the idea. “Of Vladimir Oblomov?”
    “Almost certainly.” Haig gave Bill a patronizing smile. Then it faded, replaced by a contemplative look. He sat back, folding his hands and crossing his ankles. “If there were new Chaus,” he said, as if rolling this idea around in his mind for the first time, “of course that would have to mean that Chau was alive. I suppose that’s possible. In the sense that anything’s possible, I mean.” He frowned to himself, then asked, “Who did you say told you about these paintings?”
    “I don’t remember.” Bill’s smiling apology was patently false. “Chust, I hear dis, and I tink, Vladimir, iff dere really are such tinks, you vant dem very much, don’t you?”
    Haig nodded slowly. “Mr. Oblomov, wanting is one thing. Being in a position to have? That’s another.”
    “Vat are you saying? You’re esking iff I hev money?” Bill pointed to himself with a be-ringed finger. “You Americans, alvays beating da bush. Meester Haig, my friend, I got lots uff money. Lots uff money, and lots uff friends vit lots uff money. Iff Chau got new paintinks, I vant dem. And I’m, vat you said, in a position to have dem. In fect,” he leaned forward, lowering his voice, “I’m not in no position not to have dem. If you see what I mean.”
    I saw he meant nothing at all, but Doug Haig wasn’t so sure. Also, he’d heard the word “money” a number of times.
    “Well,” Haig’s pudgy hand rubbed both his chins, “why don’t we do this? I’m intrigued. I’ll check around. Leave me your contact information, and if I come up with anything, I’ll give you a call.”
    “Dah.” Bill nodded. “Dat sounds fine. You got pen?” Bill always carries pen and paper with him, but he waited patiently while Haig, after an irritated look, swiveled his chair to his desk and picked up a pen and one of his own business cards. Bill gave him my cell phone number, then stood to leave. “You find da Chaus,” he instructed Haig amiably, “den you call Brown Eyes here. Vould be a pleasure to do business vit you.”
    In the crashing silence of Doug Haig not urging