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their carry-on bags and walked them to a door that had police written on it. He opened it and led them through a cavernous office to another door that led them outside. A Mercedes-Benz sat at the curb. The driver, who looked as if he doubled as a bodyguard, rushed to open the car’s back door. He bowed so low that his chin almost hit his knees. “Don’t make such a fuss,” Uncle said as he slid into the back seat.
    Ava sat in the back with Uncle. Tam was in the front, his body turned towards them so he could look at Uncle while he spoke.
    “I have not been here since they built the new airport. How far are we from the city?” Uncle asked in Mandarin.
    “About thirty kilometres, but Wong Changxing’s house is only twenty kilometres away.”
    Ava’s Mandarin was not quite as good as her Cantonese. She understood the nuances of what she heard, but her ability to speak the language was more rudimentary.
    “Did Wong’s people object when you told them you were coming to meet me?”
    “Hmmm . . . they went on and on about how it shamed them.”
    “What did you find out about his problem?”
    “Nothing.”
    “How can that be?” Although Uncle had asked the question gently, Ava saw that it stung Tam.
    “We spoke to everyone we know, including some of his own people. No one can explain.”
    Uncle shifted his attention to the countryside that flanked the superhighway. “I remember when there were no highways here,” he said to Ava. “Now Wuhan has more than Hong Kong, and dozens of railroads.”
    Tam nodded in agreement, looking relieved that the topic of conversation had changed.
    Uncle turned back to him. “Explain to Ava about Wong’s family situation. I am not sure I understand it completely myself.”
    “He has three wives,” Tam began.
    “We know the numbers. Explain the relationships, with him, among themselves,” Uncle said.
    “The first wife is from Wuhan. She was a factory worker and they married when they were teenagers, before Wong started to succeed. She is a simple woman, not very bright, and he soon surpassed her. They have one child, a daughter, who now goes to university in Australia. The second wife, May Ling, is also from Wuhan. Her father was an important man in the Party and she went to university in Beijing. When Wong married her, May Ling began to work in the business. She has a reputation for being shrewd and tough. People say she has as much, if not more, to do with the business’s growth as he does.”
    “So she is still involved?” Uncle asked.
    “Side by side. He does nothing without May Ling.”
    “I did not meet her when I was here.”
    “If you had, you would have remembered her. She looks like a slightly older version of —” Tam motioned his head in Ava’s direction.
    “Then why the third wife?” Ava asked.
    “May Ling couldn’t have children.”
    “He had a child.”
    “No son.”
    “So he went looking for a brood mare?” Ava said.
    “People say it was May Ling’s idea, that she found the girl working in Shanghai, had her tested, and brought her back here. Luckily she gave him sons.”
    “Do you believe that? What woman —”
    “I believe,” Tam said, “that the third wife was just for children. It is May Ling whom he still lives with. She is the real wife.”
    “All of them in the same house?” Ava asked.
    “When he married May Ling, both wives had their own houses, but he found it impractical to run back and forth. So he built a house for the two of them, and then when the third wife came, he built a new one for all of them. The first wife lives on the second floor with her mother and father and some aunties. The third wife lives on the third floor with the two sons, her mother, a sister, and the amah. May Ling and Wong Changxing have the eighth floor.”
    “A house with eight floors?” Ava said.
    “It is like a castle,” Tam said.
    “What’s on the other floors?”
    “I’m told the ground floor has a banquet hall, a theatre, and