Necropolis

him.
    "The Tai Shan Temple with the door that you were seeking is also on Queen Street." He pointed to a crossroads close to a patch of green with what might be a lake in the middle. 'You would be wise not to go there, as it is almost certainly being watched. But once you have the girl, the rules will change. It is less than a quarter of a mile away, close to Hong Kong Park. Lohan will help you enter the compound.
    He will kill anyone who gets in your way. You will enter the temple, and the door will take you wherever you want to go."
    "But what if Scarlett isn't at The Nail?" Richard asked.
    "Then you will have to search for her. Perhaps her father will be able to help you." The finger slid across the page. "Paul Adams has returned to Wisdom Court, the apartment block where he lives. It is here, on Harcourt Road. Be warned: He was with her when she was captured and may have had a hand in what took place. We can't trust him. Even so, he may know where she is."
    "And you think he'll tell?" Matt asked.
    "We will make him tell us." Han Shan-tung muttered the words casually, but there was something about the way he spoke that made the skin crawl.
    He seemed to have finished. Matt was exhausted. He was looking forward to getting to bed. But then Han Shantung went over to the desk and took a mobile phone out of one of the drawers. He handed it to Richard. 'You can use this to contact me at any time of the day or night," he explained. "The speed dial is already set. Just press one, and it will connect you directly."
    "So when are we leaving?" Jamie asked.
    Shan-tung turned and looked at him. There was no expression on his face. "The boat is already waiting for you," he said. 'You must enter Hong Kong under cover of darkness. You leave tonight."
    TWENTY-SIX
    Into Hong Kong
    The boat was tied up at Porto Exterior, the outer port of Macao. Han Shan-tung had said a brief good-bye in the hallway of his home, and now Matt, Jamie, and Richard were being driven across the city through half-empty streets. It was raining again, and the sidewalks, black and glistening, had been deserted by the crowds, many of them sheltering in the casinos, throwing their money after dice and cards in the artificial glare of the chandeliers.

    They were all tired. Jamie was half asleep, his head resting on the window, his long hair falling across his face. Richard was sitting next to him. Matt could tell that he was angry — with Shan-tung for arranging the ordeal of the sword ladder and with himself for allowing it. Matt was in the front, beside the driver. The speed of events had taken him by surprise. He had only just arrived in Macao and already he was leaving. He thought about what might lie ahead of him in Hong Kong and wondered if he was doing the right thing. It was obvious now that the whole place was a trap, set up by the Old Ones. And yet, he was walking straight into it.
    But they wouldn't be expecting him…not like this. That was what he told himself. And there was no other way. He couldn't leave Scarlett on her own any longer. It had already been too long. It was his responsibility to find her and bring her out. He was a Gatekeeper. It was time to take control.
    The ferry terminal was ahead, but they didn't drive into it. Instead, the driver took them down a narrow road that led to the water's edge and stopped. They got out, bracing themselves against the cold night air.
    For a moment, Matt and Richard found themselves standing next to each other. "Do you really think we should trust these people?" the journalist muttered, putting into words what he had been thinking all along. "They're Triads. Do you know what that means? Drugs and guns. Gambling. They'll chop up anyone who gets in their way — including you and me. Between them and the Old Ones, I wouldn't have said there was a lot to choose."
    A few hours ago, Matt might have agreed. But he remembered how Han Shan-tung had looked at the statue of Scarlett, or Lin Mo, as he preferred to call her. "I think they're on our side," he said.
    "Maybe." Richard reached out for Matt's injured hand and turned it over. There was a dark stain seeping through the bandage. "But he still shouldn't have done that to you."
    "I did it to myself," Matt said. "I wasn't concentrating."
    Jamie came over to them. "I think he wants us to go with him," he said, glancing at the driver. He yawned. "I just hope this boat has got a decent bed."
    There wasn't much to the port: a stretch of white concrete, a