ERICA AND HER POD—SOUNDMAN AND cameraman—arrive at the stately old office building on Market near the Embarcadero where Pierce Holdings is headquartered. As they ride up in the elevator, Erica says, “I’d like you two to wait outside while I have a brief pre-interview talk with Lau. I’ll come and get you when I’m ready to start taping.”
The elevator doors open to a reception area that looks like it hasn’t been renovated since the 1950s. The lettering of the Pierce Holdings sign, the furniture, the dull prints on the walls, all give the impression of an old-money company that has nothing to prove.
The receptionist smiles and informs Lily that Erica has arrived. Within moments she strides out, even more striking and glamorous than Erica remembered. She smiles in an approximation of warmth.
“Erica, how lovely to see you again. Come in. Bring your crew.” She’s going through the motions, but she seems distracted, preoccupied, anxious, as if she has something far more pressing on her plate.
“I thought we could talk for a couple of minutes alone, in preparation.”
Lily looks thrown, for just a nanosecond. “Whatever you prefer.”
They walk down a hallway lined with more generic art and into Lily’s relatively modest office. The art in here is in a whole different league—three striking black-and-white abstract paintings. Lily sits behind her desk and Erica sits facing her. Lily’s mouth is drawn tight. Erica takes a deep silent breath. Lily glances down at her phone.
“I’m hoping this won’t take too long,” Lily says. “As you know, Pierce Holdings is a private company. We don’t divulge much. It’s not good business.”
“Do you worry about people looking into your inner working?”
“I don’t worry about. I simply make sure they can’t.” She glances down at her phone again.
“Isn’t that difficult in this day and age? Hackers are very sophisticated.”
“I thought you were here to talk about where Pierce Holdings was invested. And perhaps we could discuss the work of the Pierce Foundation. We gave away thirty-five million dollars last year.” She drums the desktop with her fingertips.
This chick is wound tight. Good. Push your advantage.
“We can certainly touch on the Foundation. But as the campaign heats up there is a great deal of interest in exactly where Celeste Pierce Ortiz’s money is invested. Do you have holdings in fossil fuels? Companies that employ child labor? It could become an issue.”
“It’s no and no to both those questions.”
“Do you have a lot of overseas holdings?”
“Erica, Pierce Holdings is not a nonprofit. I’m in the business of making money. I go where that’s likely to happen. Last time I checked that wasn’t a crime. Politics is so ugly.”
“It is, isn’t it? People will do anything to get elected.”
“It’s been going on for millennia.” Another glance at her phone. “In fact, things are tame today compared to what our ancestors engaged in.”
“You mean like murder?”
“Listen, I’m pressed for time.”
Erica doesn’t move. “Interesting art.”
“Pierce Holdings has one of the world’s best collections of contemporary Chinese art.”
“How prescient. That might be a good opening for us. We could sit in front of one of the paintings.”
“I’m not sure middle America is interested in Chinese art.”
“I’m interested in everything Chinese.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. Your country’s history is so rich.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Another glance at her phone.
“They were early masters in so many fields. Including warfare.”
Lily stands up. “Are you ready to shoot your piece?”
Erica remains seated. She’s hit a nerve. Time to hit another one. “I’ve been researching Mike Ortiz’s time as a hostage. His body was subjected to some brutal abuse. So was his mind.”
“Mike Ortiz is an extraordinary man who is going to be a great president.”
“If he wins, will you be joining his administration?”
“I never count my chickens.”
“We’re not talking about chickens.”
“Then let’s talk about geese. I spoke to Celeste this morning. About the debates.” She gives Erica a thin smile. “Only a fool would kill a goose that lays golden eggs.”
“Geese are nasty animals. And some things are more valuable than gold.”
“Such as?”
“The truth.” Erica looks Lily in the eye and holds her gaze. “I saw some amazing pictures of your weekend house. It’s quite a spread.”
For a second Lily’s eyes turn into burning ice cubes. Then she turns away with a look of vague dismissal.
Too late, Lily, I saw that look.
Lily gets a call. Still feigning nonchalance, she says, “Would you excuse me for just a moment?”
“Of course.”
Lily walks out into the hall. Erica immediately decides it’s the perfect time to go get her crew. She silently walks to the open office door—she can hear Lily’s urgent whisper, “Well, were we breached?”
Erica steps out into the hallway and Lily whirls on her. Erica says, “Just going to get my crew,” and walks down to the reception area.
In their taped interview, Erica and Lily continue their taut tango. Lily is guarded and stingy with information about Celeste’s wealth. Erica presses her, but not hard. After all, facts about Celeste’s fortune aren’t what she came for.
When Erica gets back to the hotel she calls Mark on her prepaid.
“Listen, Mark, I think they may have detected you. Pull back now.”
“Just when things are getting interesting?”
“I’m serious. I want you to shut down your work. You’re at risk. Do you understand me?”
“All right, Erica, I will. But I have learned something that might interest you. While I haven’t been able to get into their second system, I have been able to discern a location for a lot of its activity.”
“Is it in China?”
“No, it’s in northern Marin County.”
Erica hangs up with Mark, opens her laptop, and pulls up the Ortiz campaign schedule provided to the press. The candidate and his wife are flying out of town first thing in the morning, and they’ll be crisscrossing the country all week. Lily Lau is listed as accompanying them.
Next Erica finds a helicopter rental agency and gives them a call.
“Hi, this is Erica Sparks. I’m interested in real estate in northern Marin. I’d like to do a flyover to get a good look at several properties.”
“We can certainly accommodate you.”
“Do you have a copter available tomorrow morning?”
“We do, yes. We leave from the Signature Flight Support Terminal at SFO.”
“I’ll be there at nine.”