‘And I owed him, I suppose.’ She buried her face in her hands. ‘I went to Hong Kong for a new life. Aunt Ruth was his father’s sister. She brought him up. His father didn’t stick around.’ She took her hands away, damp with tears. ‘She never wanted to know anything about me. But I kept in touch with Terry, she was OK about that. He was unhappy at Ruth’s; rebellious, I suppose. I said he always had a home with me. When we came back I kept that promise. He told Ruth this place was run by some of Stanley’s family, that it was handy for the winter surf, but that I was still in Hong Kong. I guess she believed him – I don’t know.’
‘But the room he slept in, Mrs Zhao, it’s newly decorated, for a child,’ said Shaw.
‘Yes. I was seven months pregnant, Detective Inspector, but I lost the child. Last year. We shouldn’t have done that, tempted fate. But I guess we got excited. It was a girl,’ she added, attempting a smile.
Mr Zhao was looking at the sickly pattern on the shag pile.
‘OK,’ said Shaw. ‘I’m sorry.’ He thought about it: losing two children in a year – one a grown man, the other unborn. ‘But I’d still like to know what your husband was doing on Siberia Belt the night Terry’s body was washed up. What did Terry do when he was staying with you – for money?’
Mr Zhao raised a hand to his mouth. ‘In the summer he surfed, wind sports. He spent money, I didn’t ask where it came from. We were fond of him.’
Shaw thought of the blood‐caked teeth. ‘Did you give him a ring, Mr Zhao? A man with a dragon’s tail carved in jet?’
He nodded, his eyelids almost closing. ‘Hsi, the first emperor.’
‘And in the winter?’
‘He had a wetsuit – and he fished at night, on the long lines. He hung around that café on the front by the fair.’
‘The Skeg?’ asked Valentine.
Shaw thought of the wetsuits swilling in the sea spray off Hunstanton, the fishermen huddled at night by lanterns, the magazines under the counter at the café, sticky fingerprints on the glass. Another lucrative trade for Terry Brand. A parcel on each trip perhaps, a little extra money.
‘How did he get down to the beach?’ asked Valentine. ‘Nearest surf is – what – fifteen miles. And he’s got all his kit. You’re not going to get sea rods on the bus, are you?’ Key question: Shaw bit his lip.
Mrs Zhao had frozen but her husband had an answer; the wrong answer. ‘His friends had a car.’
‘Who are they – these friends? What do they look like?’ said Valentine, flipping open the notebook, biro in his teeth, playing the role perfectly.
‘We didn’t see them,’ Zhao said.
‘They’d stay in the car – sound the horn,’ said Mrs Zhao, joining in.
‘In the car,’ repeated Valentine. ‘What sort of car?’
‘A white van, dirty,’ said Zhao.
Shaw zipped up his coat. ‘I think you were the transport, Mr Zhao. I think that’s why you were there that night. To meet Terry. I think you’d done it before. And I think you know he wasn’t sea fishing, or looking for the perfect winter wave. He was smuggling. Dangerous work – so dangerous it killed him. I think he was curious about what he was bringing in, curious to know what price it would fetch. Did he talk to you about that, Mr Zhao? Mrs Zhao? And the merchandise? Did he bring it here?’
Shaw looked around as if he was going to start the search there and then.
‘Merchandise?’ said Stanley Zhao, shaking his head.
‘A suitcase perhaps,’ said Shaw. ‘Reinforced, aluminium probably, so it wouldn’t weigh too much. Or plastic containers, baskets – what did they use, Mr Zhao? You tell me. Is that why you didn’t contact the police when we released his name?’
Mrs Zhao rubbed her eyes and looked at Shaw for the first time. ‘If Terry was dead… is dead… what’s the point in contacting the police? Terry never brought anything home, Detective Inspector,’ she added. ‘Never.’
Shaw guessed she was telling the truth, or nearly the truth. The magazines came home. But no, he didn’t bring the consignment home. So where did it go?
‘Whatever he was smuggling that last night probably killed him. I’m going to have to ask you to identify the body, Mrs Zhao. Can you do that for me?’
Shaw watched her face collapse, watched her lose control of the