Donovans 02 - Jade Island

the Tang family jade expert.”
    “What does Joe Ju Tang have to say about that?”
    “What do you care? It’s not your family.”
    Before Daniel could say any more, a whispery yet strong voice came from the doorway.
    “Lianne, is that you?” Wen asked in Chinese.
    “Yes, Uncle Wen,” she said, looking away from Daniel with relief.
    The old man stood in the doorway. Wind tugged at his clothes and lifted his collar-length, thinning white hair. Barely taller than Lianne, weighing only a few pounds more than she did, he nonetheless commanded attention. The dark gray suit he wore was a fine blend of wool and silk; it had been tailored impeccably to fit his frail frame. His shirt was silk, as was his sedate burgundy tie. His shoes were handmade of a leather so soft it could have been used for gloves.
    “Why are you standing outside when it is warm inside?” Wen asked impatiently. “Come, come! The spring wind is unkind to old bones. Qin? Qin, are you near?”
    “I am here,” said the houseboy patiently.
    “Bring tea to the vault. Cookies, too. I am hungry.”
    “Grandfather,” Daniel said in Chinese, “do not trouble yourself with this matter. I will see that each piece of jade is returned to its rightful place.”
    “Trouble?” Wen gave a harsh, papery laugh. “At my age, jade is the only trouble worth having. Help Lianne return my children to the vault. If you listen and look well, you might finally learn something useful about the Stone of Heaven.”
    Daniel’s face darkened, but his voice didn’t change. “Thank you, Grandfather. I have much to learn from you.”
    “Best be quick about it,” Wen muttered. “The husk of my body dries more with every day. Soon the wind will take me.”
    “It would not dare,” Lianne said, smiling. “Though you would make a fine fighting kite.”
    Wen’s face wrinkled into a huge grin. Laughing silently, he turned back to the house. Then he stopped and glanced over his shoulder, seeking the small, bright-colored shadow that was all he could see of Lianne.
    “Let the boy bring the jade,” Wen said curtly. “Come, girl. Come and tell me once again how my children look in their nests of silk and satin and velvet.”
    Lianne sensed more than saw the whiplash of anger followed by rigid control that went through Daniel. Yet when she looked at him, he was bending into the trunk of her car, lifting out cartons of jade, and setting them carefully along the driveway as though he wanted nothing more in life but to do Wen’s bidding.
    “I am coming, Uncle Wen,” Lianne said, hurrying up the steps. “It is always an honor to be your eyes.”
    The trunk slammed hard enough to bend metal. Lianne winced and said nothing. She was used to encounteringindifference in the Tang family, but outright hostility was new. She found herself wishing that her very own stuffed elephant was by her side. The thought made her smile, chasing the chill of her half brother’s blunt rejection of her and his doubts about her honesty.
    The door led to the kitchen. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was a smooth blend of Oriental and Occidental. The colors, use of space, flooring, and art were largely Asian. The furniture, lighting, appliances, and plumbing were Western. The scent was unique, a blend of incense and the Pop Tarts that Wen loved.
    During their slow progress through the kitchen and down a corridor to the vault wing, Wen started questioning her about Dick Farmer’s jade suit.
    “My grandsons could tell me nothing,” Wen said irritably. “They think only of stocks and banks and real estate. Did you see it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Ah!” Wen waited, but she said no more. “Is anyone nearby?” he demanded.
    Lianne looked over her shoulder. They were alone. “No.”
    “Is the suit as good as mine?” Wen asked impatiently.
    She was too shocked to answer. A few years ago, she accidentally had discovered the suit when she was doing the yearly inventory and inspection of the Tang vault. She had been in one of the deep closets inspecting the trays of jade thumb rings and archer’s cuffs, when the vault door opened. Joe and Wen walked in, arguing about Joe’s love of horses and ancient calligraphy.
    Lianne decided to finish the archery inventory and hoped that the men were through bickering before she announced herself. A few minutes later she heard a crash. She rushed out of the closet and spotted Joe braced against the weight of what looked like a steel door.
    When she saw