The Black Dragon Read Online Free PDF Page B

lanes. Horns blaring.
    It makes Danny think of the Khaos Klowns doing their Demolition Derby routine: souped-up bumper cars ramming across the arena, colliding in flame and smoke as the band thumped out a fuzzed guitar riff. One by one the Aerialisques came dropping from out of the air on their bungee cords, plucking the drivers from their dodgems—the Klowns suddenly sprouting angel wings as they ascended in the girls’ arms—and calm slowly returned to the arena. He finds himself smiling. Almost as if he chose to have that memory . . .
    Laura claps her hands, breaking the spell. “Attention in the back, please. I’m going to get Mr. Kwan to drop you and the bags at the Pearl. I’ve got to go and meet Detective Tan, my contact.” She scribbles on a business card and hands it to Danny. “This is a restaurant in Mong Kok. Across the harbor in Kowloon. Take the Star Ferry and meet me there. Eight o’clock sharp.”
    They lurch onto the forecourt of the Pearl Hotel, a great slab of glass commanding Victoria Harbor. The taxi backfires as Mr. Kwan brings it to a stop, and Danny looks back at the puff of smoke from the exhaust.
    Through it he sees White Suit again.
    The other taxi, presumably the same one from the airport, has pulled up some way back and the tall, thin man is on the pavement, chatting to his driver through the window. Again, as casual as you like. But then the man glances, for a fraction of a second, straight in Danny’s direction, before a green tram trundles past, obliterating him from view.
    A coincidence?
    Danny nudges Zamora. “I’m not sure, but I think we’re being followed. Don’t look round too quickly, but a tall man, white suit.”
    â€œCome off it, Mister Danny!”
    â€œI’m sure he was at the airport. And now he’s here.”
    â€œThen he’s probably staying at the same hotel.”
    Mr. Kwan is piling cases onto the pavement and a bellhop starts loading them onto a trolley. “Here, let me help, young man,” Zamora says, swinging out of the cab and effortlessly picking up the two biggest. “Our fault for bringing so much.”
    Laura ruffles Danny’s hair.
    â€œAunt Laura—”
    â€œNo time now. I just need to speed-freshen.” She takes perfume from her bag and sprays her wrist liberally. He’s never really liked its cloying smell and he wrinkles his nose. Laura looks into Danny’s eyes, holding his gaze for a moment. “Do what the major says. At all times. Understand?”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œIt’ll have to wait!”
    Reluctantly Danny gets out of the taxi.
    Laura taps Mr. Kwan on the shoulder. He crunches the gears hard and sends the car lurching into an almost nonexistent gap between the cars and a tram. In seconds they’re gone.
    Danny turns round to check for White Suit. The man’s still there by his taxi and seems to hesitate for a moment, throwing another glance at Danny—right at him—before snapping back into his own cab. Kwan’s car is lost in the traffic ahead, but you can tell where it is by the exhaust coughing from its tailpipe. White Suit points after it, and his own taxi darts forward. It clips a delivery van a glancing blow and is away down Connaught Road, to a fanfare of protesting horns.
    Danny watches it for a moment before turning to Zamora, eyebrows raised.
    â€œYou see?”
    â€œI dunno, Mister Danny. Crazy place.”
    â€œDidn’t you see him?”
    â€œJust some josser in a hurry,” Zamora says. “Like always. Like your aunt. Not like us circus folk.”
    He shakes his head and goes in through the revolving doors, keeping his eyes lowered. “Crazy.”
    Maybe this White Suit business is nothing
, Danny thinks.
Maybe Laura did change her plans at the last minute. Maybe she has told me everything she knows
. And yet, deep down, he knows that’s wrong. In the circus you were taught to