When the three of them got back to Beijing the next day,
Weng drove over to Mr. Yi’s office.
The secretary did not give much information,
and did not recognize Weng, so he told her
that he knew Mr. Yi was in Beijing,
and had orders to deliver his car.
The secretary looked out the window
at the black Rolls-Royce below.
“Okay,” she said. “Here’s the address where he is.”
It took a long time through Beijing traffic
to reach Mr. Yi’s apartment.
Weng buzzed several times before a sad, small voice
filled the security system.
The elevator went straight up and opened on his apartment.