Shanghai Silk

A buffer floor of storage rooms, archive vaults, and security areas occupied the fourth floor. Everyone going above this floor was closely checked. The Handcuff Club, a very private and exclusive men’s club occupied the next two floors, the public entertainment rooms on the fifth floor and the very private rooms plus photography and movie studio rooms and an Internet Web site studio on the sixth floor. An extensive medical clinic, manned by medical technicians around the clock and supervised by a full-time doctor, plus a few small apartments for a select number of staffers made of the seventh floor. On the waterfront side of the eighth floor were located more staff apartments, with the road side taken up by a two-story elaborate dungeon set. Chad’s private penthouse started on the waterfront side of the ninth floor and took up the entire tenth floor, which also included extensive roof-top terracing.

“Hello, Sung,” Chad responded to the telephone call from Shanghai. “This must be important for you to call in the middle of your night.”

“It’s Bao Chuan. You likely assumed it would be. He has become insufferable and is endangering my operations here. You had mentioned being able and willing to do something about that.”

“Give me a few days to get a crew together and I’ll be over there. You probably know I will be quite happy to handle Bao Chuan for you.”

“I know you have never . . . forgotten him, Chan,” Sung Li answered, using Chad’s Chinese name. “It should not be messy, though, or redound on the theater.”