The Interior Page 19

“I haven’t seen many men,” David noted. “In fact, I haven’t seen many people at all except during the lunch break.”

  “We try to keep the men and women separated from each other as much as possible,” Sandy said. “All of the men are locals. They crate the packaged products for shipping, load the trucks, deal with refuse. We’ve trained them how to use forklifts and…” Sandy smiled sheepishly. “Well, you get the idea. The point is, they’re almost always in the warehouse or the shipping building. Their lunch break is at a different time than the women’s. The only time they see each other is at the end of the day when the men go home and the women go to their dorms.”

  “All that to discourage fraternizing?”

  “Madame Leung thinks it’s best,” Sandy said. “I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about how inhibited the Chinese are about sex. They’re especially puritanical about extracurricular sex. I’m talking about serious penalties for screwing around. Did you know there was a time you could get sent to a labor camp for having an affair with a married woman? Things have always been a bit looser in the countryside, where the government isn’t watching as closely and the attitudes are, shall we say, cruder. Nevertheless, we employ married women and single girls. Most of them are far from home and lonely. While there are still plenty of ways for the men and women to get together—this is a big place and all it takes is a few minutes—we’re trying to do what we can to prevent broken hearts and unwanted pregnancies.”

  David moved on to licensing agreements. Like Sam & His Friends, several of the older products had also originated from television or movie characters, but those licenses had been locked into place years ago. In fact, Knight’s relationship with the various studios had only improved with the wild success of Sam & His Friends. David finally had to ask Henry the question that had been gnawing at him since he’d read about the sale on the day of Keith’s funeral. “With so much opportunity out there, plus the way you love your company, why are you selling?”

  “Haven’t you heard? I’m a dying man,” Henry said.

  David regarded the older man. He still looked shaken from seeing the dead woman, but death seemed very far from him personally. Henry looked strong and fit for a man his age. “Ill or not, how can you give up something you so obviously love?”

  “It’s a new world. I’ve lived my life in the toy business. Sure, I’ve made my forays into Hollywood, and they’ve been very profitable. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my years in New York and L.A., going to lunches in fancy restaurants or commissaries, chatting up studio marketing and licensing people.”

  “You could let someone else do those things,” David said.

  “But it’s my company. I like to be in control. Oh, not everything. I’ve never cared much for everyday operations.”

  “He means,” Sandy clarified, “that he likes to sit on the floor and invent toys. He likes to work with the test groups—kids and moms. He likes to go to the toy fairs and put our products into the hands of the people who’ll sell them. There isn’t another company where the inventor is so closely linked with the end user. It’s what’s made Knight so successful.”

  “Then why sell?” David pressed.

  “Because we’ve come to a crossroads,” Henry said. “I just don’t like the outside demands on my time.” He got an almost dreamy look on his face. “I’ll travel, maybe find an island or someplace around here, set up a little workshop out back…”

  As he spoke, David understood why this was such a great deal for Tartan. Knight International had done extremely well over the years and Henry was a genius, but his iron-fisted control over the company and its practically nonexistent board of directors had undoubtedly kept Knight from expanding. With a host of managers, lawyers, accountants, and designers set to come in, and with Henry’s commitment to bringing his products “home,” the Knight brands under the Tartan umbrella could skyrocket.

  And the conglomerate wasn’t just buying a company with great potential, but would also continue to avail itself of the services and connections of Phillips, MacKenzie & Stout, in particular Miles Stout. Henry Knight had made his connections in Hollywood, but for years he’d been isolated in New Jersey and more recently isolated because of ill health. Tartan was in L.A., as was Phillips, MacKenzie. Miles, David recalled, had spent a lot of the firm’s money on entertaining Hollywood bigwigs over the years. By getting his children into the right private schools, he’d developed personal relationships with studio heads. He’d coached Michael Ovitz’s kid for a soccer season. His wife had set up play dates with the Roth kids. He’d helped Lew Wasserman get his grandchild into Brentwood Elementary. In turn, these media giants had invited Miles to be a fourth for tennis, to play a round of golf at the Riviera Country Club, to give money to their favorite charities, to go to screenings and premieres, and to join their Oscar-night parties. David could remember those evenings in years past when Miles and Mary Elizabeth had been whooshed away in a limousine to go party-hopping from the MCA Universal tent to the Paramount soirée to the Sony bash. Those studio relationships, while not part of the building blocks of the contracts, did act as the mortar. Add to this a final bonus: an independent contractor—in this case an eccentric toy inventor—coming up with new products on his island hideaway.

  So, if the information Sandy Newheart and the Knights were giving him was correct—and David would have to check that it was—then he felt confident that this aspect of the deal would be all right. That still left what Tartan and Knight, as public companies, needed to disclose to the government: the financial details on past performance as well as what the consolidated company would look like, what the shareholders would get and if it was fair, documents dealing with antitrust issues since the original companies were both in the toy business, and affidavits stating that their officers and directors were in compliance with their respective companies’ codes of conduct—meaning no instances of bribery, undisclosed transactions with vendors, or violations of the laws of the countries in which they operated.

  “I see that Keith and your people have already provided the SEC with what it needs to know,” David said, flipping through the papers.

  “As you say, we’re square on all of that,” Henry said. “You’ve got the evidence right in front of you.”

  And on it went.

  At four a young woman escorted Governor Sun Gan and Assistant Secretary Amy Gao into the room. Unlike the last time that David had met Sun in Beijing, for this occasion he was dressed quite casually in slacks and a short-sleeve white shirt which emphasized his physical strength. From his vantage point David could see the incredible charisma that Sun exuded as he circumnavigated the table, exchanging individual greetings with everyone in the room. David supposed that Sun’s ability to make people feel special was what had made him such a successful politician.

  All the while Amy Gao stood patiently with her back against the wall, her impenetrable brown eyes coolly surveying the room. David was aware that in China an underling was hardly ever addressed or acknowledged and would never be presumptuous enough to step forward and introduce him-or herself. So David decided to approach Amy, for the very simple reason that if he was to represent Sun, then he would need to have a good relationship with his right-hand woman. Most likely Amy Gao would be able to provide more details on a particular matter or be able to look up information more quickly than the governor himself. But where Sun projected ease, his assistant appeared beautiful but undeniably stiff and formal. Her response to David’s self-introduction was a brief handshake and a clipped “How do you do?”

  Once they all resumed their seats, with Amy taking a chair against the wall behind her superior, Sun addressed Henry. “I know you’re all very busy with your sale, but I wanted to come and see if there’s anything I can do to help facilitate matters.”

  “I’m always grateful for any help that the governor can provide,” Henry said. “But in this instance things are moving along fine. We see nothing but clear weather ahead.”

  �
��This is good news,” Sun responded, keeping his official demeanor. He cocked his head in David’s direction. “You may not know this, but Henry Knight was the first to recognize the possibilities of Shanxi Province.”

  “Oh, now, Sun,” Henry interrupted. “We’re all friends here. You don’t need to give David the full treatment, you know.”

  The two men laughed, and the others from Knight quickly joined in.

  Then Henry, still beaming, explained to David, “We’ve known each other since the war. Hell, we were a couple of kids, but we did some serious carousing, didn’t we, Sun? When I came back to China, I knew whom I had to find. Only I didn’t know what I’d find—some broken peasant, maybe he was dead, I didn’t know. But I get over here and look who’s practically running the show. I can’t tell you how easy he made it for us. He found this property. When we were building the compound and I was home in the hospital, he got the tradesmen here on time, he kept the work moving steadily forward, and he dealt with all the red tape. We never would have gotten up and running if not for him.”

  Sun acknowledged this with a slight bow of his head, then said, “It is I who owe much to you. I had a vision for my province. You were the first to turn it into reality. Now we have other companies from France, England, Australia, Germany, and, of course, the United States. We may not have Mattel, Nike, or Boeing yet, but once they see what we’ve done here, they’ll come. Why? Because our land and labor prices are cheaper than on the coast. But the real gift is not what we can give you. It is what you have given us. You remember, Henry, what it was like here fifty years ago? Terrible poverty. Always we were having famine or drought or flood, then you add to that war…It was bad. Even when you first came back to visit in 1990, life for common people had not changed so much. But today you can see what prosperity has done not only to our big provincial cities of Taiyuan and Datong but also to our villages.”

  David glanced around the room, noting that the others looked bored with this ongoing mutual admiration fest. Perhaps they’d listened to it too many times and no longer heard the real content of the words, but David heard them. Sun had obviously done a lot to make things run smoothly for his old friend. In the West this might have meant a few phone calls, but in China it could mean anything from a few phone calls to coercion, graft, or bribery. Despite these red flags, David couldn’t imagine that the governor—with his straightforward manner, his ease with people, his obvious love of his home province, and his rapid rise in power—could be personally involved with such underhanded business practices. For that matter, neither could Henry Knight. Watching the two of them together, David saw two mannerly gents bound together by some good times in the past. On different continents and in vastly different cultures, they had both risen to prominence. They had made money. They had achieved success.

  11

  WHEN THE BELL RANG FOR LUNCH, HULAN AND THE other women filed out into the courtyard. Except for one fifteen-minute break, Hulan had stood in exactly the same spot for six hours, so she was grateful to have the opportunity to stretch her legs. And, hot as it was under the sun, it was far cooler outside than on the factory floor. She was thankful as well for Peanut’s take-charge attitude. Smiling, Peanut had linked arms with Hulan and Siang, pulling them along. Through the crowd Hulan caught a glimpse of Mayli and Jingren, but they were in the company of their own teams. In fact, all of the groups seemed to be made up of people who worked together. After standing or sitting in such close proximity to the same people day after day, week after week, how could they not be friends, how could they not know each other’s most intimate secrets?

  For a moment Peanut broke into an old harvest song. Her voice sounded sweet, and a few of the women around them joined in for a verse or two. Then someone spotted the foreigners, and word quickly passed that Old Man Knight himself was in the courtyard. Hulan rose up on tiptoes to see the foreigners. Dressed in suits and ties, they looked wilted and suprisingly indistinguishable as individuals. Then she spotted David. She looked right at him, but he didn’t see her. Around her, the women dared each other to go up and talk to the Americans.

  “Suchan, tell that young one over there you are burning hot for him.”

  “Um, no, I like the old one. Who wants a hard jiji when you can have hard currency?”

  The women laughed appreciatively at this tart rejoinder. Then another voice called out.

  “In this hot place I am parched. I long for clouds and rain.” The time-honored euphemism for the sexual act made the women laugh louder.

  Looking at the men’s faces, Hulan knew they had no understanding of the words being hurled their way. None, that is, except Aaron Rodgers. Even from a distance Hulan could see that his ears had gone bright red. She wasn’t the only one to notice his discomfort.

  “Hey! Look at Manager Red Face! I think we’re making him hot!”

  “Choose me! I will let you feel my love button!”

  “No! Pick me! I will be so carried away I will forget to count the thrusts!”

  “Forget your dreams, sister. He has found his new conquest. Where is that new girl? Who is she anyway?”

  Hulan peered sideways and saw Siang in much the same condition as Aaron. Her eyes were cast down and she was blushing from embarrassment, but the smile on her face showed her pleasure.

  Peanut, keeping her voice low, said, “Don’t listen to them, Siang. They’re just having fun.”

  “Do you think so?” Siang asked.

  Peanut grinned conspiratorially. “Tell us. What did the manager say to you?”

  “That I was doing good work. He said I was learning faster than anyone he had ever seen.”

  They entered the cafeteria building, picked up trays, and joined the line to receive a bowl of rice with some stewed meat on top. Peanut and Siang went to find a table, while Hulan got herself a mug of weak tea. By the time she reached her co-workers, they were deep in conversation, their heads together.

  “Are you going to meet him?” Peanut asked Siang as Hulan sat down.

  “Do you think I should?”

  “Of course. I would if he asked me,” Peanut answered.

  Obviously a lot had happened in the few minutes Hulan had gotten her tea.

  “But where?” Hulan asked. “I thought there were no places to be alone.”

  Peanut and Siang exchanged glances.

  “The people who run this place think we have no needs, but we do,” Peanut said delicately. “So we have found places to meet here inside the compound and ways to get out when we can.”

  “How?” Hulan asked. She picked up a piece of the meat, noticed that the hair was still attached to the skin, set it against the side of her bowl, and looked for another, more appetizing morsel.

  “When you’re here longer, you’ll find out,” Peanut answered.

  “But Siang already knows, and we’ve been here the same amount of time.”

  “But she’s different. The manager told her himself.”

  Hulan put down her chopsticks. “I don’t think this is fair.” The words seemed tame enough, but in China they were the first step toward public criticism.

  Peanut sighed. “Okay, but if you get caught, don’t tell them I told you. There are actually several ways to meet,” she went on, trying to sound more worldly than her fourteen years. “Staying in the compound is the least dangerous, but it’s hard to avoid their eyes.”

  “Last night Madame Leung caught me when I went outside,” Hulan said.

  “That’s because you left after lights out,” Peanut explained. “You have to be gone much earlier than that.” Peanut looked around to make sure that none of the officials were nearby, then leaned forward and continued in a low voice, “Did you notice that when we came in here that we didn’t have to check in? Well, the same goes for breakfast and dinner.”

  “So?”

  “So they only check us when we go in and out of the factory. Otherwise they don’t pay much attention.”

  “People sneak out during lunch?” Hul
an asked dubiously.

  “Lunch. Dinner.” Peanut’s eyes scanned the room. “I can tell you not everyone is having lunch right now.”

  “But where do they go?”

  “Oh, the warehouse, the shipping area, the Administration Building, even here.” Seeing Hulan’s shocked look, Peanut laughed. “They aren’t doing it in here right now! That’s only at night after lights out and the men have supposedly gone home. Outside, you put a man and a woman together, how long does it take? Not so long and then the man goes to sleep. But”—Peanut’s eyes gleamed—“if you stay in the compound—if you’re in here perhaps—you do your thing and then you have all night to talk, because these floors are too hard for much sleeping. Believe me, I know!”

  “Still, won’t you get caught?”

  “Depends where you go,” Peanut said, “depends who with.”

  “What if I wanted to leave the compound?” Hulan asked.

  “Do you have a special man too?” Peanut wanted to know.

  “Maybe,” Hulan said. “Maybe I just don’t believe you. What about the gate? What about the guard?”

  “Oh, leaving is easy!” Peanut bragged. “We’re dismissed at seven and so are the men. You take off your smock, give it to a friend, join the men—walking in the middle of the group—and go right out through the gate. In the morning, you just reverse the process. And if you really want out, you can always pay the guard. He’s very greedy.”

  Hulan remembered back to the first time she entered the compound and how the guard had paled when he’d seen her identification. He must have thought he was on his way to a labor camp.

  “You’ve done this yourself?” Hulan asked. “Paid the guard?”

  “Me? No. I’m here to make money, not spend it.” Peanut turned her attention back to Siang. “So, where did the manager want to meet you?”

  Siang studied her empty bowl. “He said to come to his office. He said we would have dinner there and we could talk about my promotion.”

  “Um.” Peanut nodded sagely. “He wants to talk.” Then she burst out in raucous laughter, stood, and called out across the room in a shrill voice, “Manager Red Face wants to talk!” The laughter that followed was accompanied by a few more comments on Aaron Rodgers’s prowess.