Free The Hunt (Mike Greystone, Book 1) by Michael Sigurdsson Page B

treatment would help her to deal with the mental stress."
    "Now you're talking."
    I stayed at the hospital for another hour or so, and eventually departed from Pittsburgh heading home.

 
     
    14.
     
    Back in Philadelphia .
     
    On the way home, I dialed Martin's number. "Hi Martin, I'm back home, can you arrange a meeting with Mr. Zhao for me?"
    "Sure, no problem," Martin said. "You'd better bring a nice gift for him. He's quite particular in that respect."
    "Do we have any of the whiskey that we got from Dermot left?"
    "He doesn't drink that much I think. He's Asian, many Asian people suffer from so-called 'Asian Flush.' They can't process alcohol efficiently. I don't think whiskey is a good present for him."
    "Really, I didn't know about that," I was surprised.
    "That's why you pay me well to know these things. Can I have a pay rise please?" Martin joked. "And I'm not joking, by the way," he joked again.
    "Jokes aside," I wasn’t joking, "let's discuss it some other time, okay?"
    "Okay, back on the topic of Mr. Zhao then. You need something unusual or expensive. He has sophisticated taste. And he’s a connoisseur sadist."
    "I suppose a vice for torture and a gold bar would appeal to both of his tastes," I jested.
    "Well, a gold bar would be expensive, but not sophisticated."
    "Do we have any nice toys in our interrogation room?"
    "Sure, we can find something adequate."
    "How about the nice cute contraption that looks like a big glove, the one that sticks needles into the tender flesh under the fingernails?"
    "Yeah, I remember that one, it's actually quite strong and well built. It’s ancient, but looks classy, if you know what I mean. Like the Patek Philippe of torturing devices. I think he should like it," Martin said.
    "And it was quite efficient too, I must admit, the subject we used it on was quite vocal and revealed all we needed quite quickly. Mr. Zhao should like that."
    "All set then, let me schedule the meeting. Anything else?" Martin asked finishing the conversation.
    "That's it, thanks."
    Martin arranged the meeting for later that evening. I drove to Mr. Zhao's house. He lived in a massive mansion, built with modern materials incorporating quite a lot of elements from traditional Chinese architecture. Not that I knew what traditional Chinese architectural elements were. There was quite a lot of wood in his house, nice. It looked like a reasonably healthy environment. Although the people that occasionally died in the house wouldn't agree it was a healthy environment.
    I was ushered into the reception room.
    Mr. Zhao wasn't very tall, but looked fit, athletic and reasonably good-looking. I’d heard he was quite good at martial arts. I’d also heard he was quite traditional, so I was expecting some traditional attire, but he was wearing just a regular suit. Mr. Zhao controlled, directly or indirectly, the North East and North East Central, with the tentacles of his crime empire spreading to the northern parts of the South Atlantic and South East Central. Martin had explained to me it was more complex than that, but in any event Mr. Zhao was the man to talk to.
    "Good evening Mr. Greystone," he greeted me.
    "Good evening Mr. Zhao," I answered.
    "Oh, I see you finally learned which is my given name and which is my surname," Mr. Zhao said with a grain of sarcasm.
    "That was an unforgivable error, sorry about that."
    "Bygones."
    "I have a gift for you, Mr. Zhao," I handed him the parcel.
    "Oh, how nice." he opened the parcel. "What is this?"
    "It's a portable interrogation device," I explained. "No electronics, no wifi, no funky gimmicks, just well-proven, traditional, mechanical operation."
    "I think I like it."
    "What's more, anything you glean from the subject in this way is much more ethical than using, say, vulgar electricity, or a blow torch or something. It's like eating organic food, pure and unadulterated, if you know what I mean."
    "I like you, Mr. Greystone, I like you."
    "Thank you, Mr.