Praise for the novels of TAYLOR SMITH
“A former international diplomat and intelligence analyst, Smith uses her experience to good effect in her latest thriller.”
—Library Journal on Deadly Grace
“…a rare thriller that keeps its secrets until the end…while combining suspense and style.”
—Orlando Sentinel on Deadly Grace
“Fifteen rounds of sturdy international espionage-cum-detection…”
—Kirkus Reviews on The Innocents Club
“Smith’s gloriously intricate plot is top-notch, and her writing…is that of a gifted storyteller.” —Publishers Weekly on The Innocents Club “Taylor Smith…John Grisham. It’s a perfectly plausible comparison—though Smith’s a better prose stylist.”
—Publishers Weekly on Random Acts
“The mix of suspense, forensic science, romance and mystery makes this a real page-turner.”
—Orange Coast on Random Acts
“Sharp characterization and a tightly focused time frame…give this intrigue a spellbinding tone of immediacy.”
—Publishers Weekly on The Best of Enemies
“The pace is swift and the action is concentrated…making it a perfect summer read.”
—Orange Coast on The Best of Enemies
Also by TAYLOR SMITH
DEADLY GRACE
THE INNOCENTS CLUB
RANDOM ACTS
THE BEST OF ENEMIES
COMMON PASSIONS
GUILT BY SILENCE
Liar’s Market
Taylor Smith
Three may keep a secret—if two of them be dead.
—Benjamin Franklin
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My deep thanks for assistance and ongoing support to Lieutenant Brian Bray and Officer Harry M. Saval (Washington, D.C., Metropolitan Police), Nick Banks, Lee Roberts, D. P. Lyle, the Fictionaires, Philip Spitzer and last but never least, Amy Moore-Benson.
And as always, Richard, Kate and Anna:
I couldn’t do it without you.
This book is dedicated to the memory of Robert Kost (1936–2003) artist, musician and son of the prairie.
This is a work of fiction. Although certain events mentioned in this novel are actual historical events, the characters I placed there are entirely figments of my imagination, as are their personal experiences. Any resemblance to real individuals is strictly coincidental.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
Hong Kong
August 27, 2001
Hong Kong radiated heat, sex and treachery in equal measures. Adding money and politics to that flammable mix guaranteed an explosion of murder.
From her twenty-eighth-floor penthouse terrace near the top of Victoria Park Alexandra Kim Lee gazed down on a city skyline that sparkled like diamonds strewn across a blue-black cape of velvet. Dazzling skyscrapers and light-strung yachts and fishing junks in the harbor made a festive display, specially contrived, it seemed, to mark her birthday. Her latest lover was expected any minute, and the plan was to celebrate at Fantin-Latour, Hong Kong’s newest, most exclusive nightclub.
She’d been born in the harbor below exactly thirty-five years ago that night on board a junk that smelled of fish guts, rotting wood and wet rope. It had been the Year of the Dragon, the luckiest and most powerful of signs. And like the mighty dragon, which begins life in the narrow confines of the soupy egg, Alex had emerged from damp, humble beginnings to conquer her world.
Now, she had luxury homes in London, New York and Eleuthera, as well as this sprawling penthouse in the coveted residential sector high above Hong Kong. It wasn’t so long ago that Chinese hadn’t been permitted to live on the Peak, but the timing of Alex’s life was as lucky as her sign. Schooling for young Chinese girls had become mandatory when she was a child, and she’d gone on to win scholarships at the London School of Economics. Afterward, she’d worked as an assistant to one of the leading British bankers in Hong