The Chinese Cat: John Hayes #10 (PAPERBACK)

As dawn crept over Lisbon, Danny Chan unfolded himself from the chair and stretched. He’d been awake most of the night and was glad his shift was finally over. He tipped his head from side to side, stretching out his neck, then clasped his hands behind his back and pulled his shoulders back.

He took one more look into the street below, then walked away from the window and rapped on the bedroom door with the back of his hand.

“Yu-Ming, you’re up.” He leaned closer to hear the response and when he heard nothing, opened the door and leaned in. “Hey, come on, my shift is over.” Danny spoke in English, his command of Mandarin pathetic at best, and Yu-Ming couldn’t understand a word of Portuguese.

There was a muffled curse, followed by movement in the darkened room as Yu-Ming rolled out of bed.

“What time is it?” he groaned.

“Time you did some work. Hurry up.” Danny left the door open, and walked back to the chair by the window. He picked up his cell phone, typed a brief report, hit send, then slipped it into his back pocket. On a tripod beside the chair was a Canon EOS 5D fitted with a 300 - 600 telephoto lens. He swapped the battery out for a fresh one and put the used one to charge. Finally he checked the parabolic microphone was still picking up sound from the apartment on the other side of the street and that the laptop it was connected to was recording.

Satisfied, he turned around just as Yu-Ming came out of the bedroom.

“You look like shit.”

“Well, maybe you should do the night shift for once and then we’ll see how great you look,” Danny retorted.

“Anything to eat?” Yu-Ming asked, scratching his head and running his eyes over the collection of empty takeaway boxes scattered on the table beside the window.

“Not unless you cooked something.”

Yu-Ming shrugged and walked across the small apartment, and stood beside the window, staring out at the opposite building. “Aren’t you in a cheery mood this morning?”

“How long are they going to make us sit here, Yu-Ming? It’s been over six months. They don’t tell us anything. They’ve reduced the manpower and increased our shifts, and we can’t see an end to it.”

Yu-Ming sniffed, shrugged, then yawned. “As long as we get paid, who cares?”

Danny scowled. “There’s more to life than sitting in this stinking apartment, eating shit food, staring at some lao wai men’s apartment all day and night. I mean, who are they? She’s never there, and all he does is run, drink coffee, and go out in that pretty little car of his. We’re wasting our time.”

Yu-Ming frowned deeply. “Maybe you should keep your opinions to yourself.” He pointed to his ear and then around the apartment.

Danny sneered. “I don’t care who’s listening. I was born here. They can't send me to China.”

Yu-Ming said nothing, his frown and narrowed eyes more than enough to convey his discomfort.

Danny shrugged. He really didn’t care. He loved his life in Portugal, had never even been to China, and only spoke a few words of the language to keep his parents happy. 

He’d been out of work when the request came through the Chinese community. His father had told him it was important work for the Party. Danny didn’t care. He was only interested in the regular pay-check.

But now, after more than six months of utter boredom and terrible hours, he was questioning his choices. The couple across the street seemed like normal people living normal lives, and Danny felt the surveillance was a complete waste of time.

“I’m going home. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Can you get me some food?”

Danny nodded toward the takeaway menus stuck to the fridge in the kitchen. “Order something. I’m going home to sleep.”

“I can’t take this lao wai food anymore. Can you bring me something from home? Some of your mother’s bao?”

Danny grinned. Sometimes, he felt sorry for Yu-Ming. It wouldn’t have been easy to come straight from China to a foreign country and spend the whole time in a flat living on takeaway food. 

There had been another guy too, for the first three months, so he’d had some company at the beginning, but that guy had been called back and now there were just the two of them. A man from China who had never traveled abroad before, and Danny, who was of Chinese descent but spoke Portuguese and English fluently, with very little knowledge of Mandarin.

“I’ll bring you something if you take the early part of my shift.”

Yu-Ming nodded eagerly. “Some bao or even those noodles she made last time.”

Danny nodded. “I’ll ask her. I’m out of here.” He jerked his head toward the street. “Have fun watching the lao wai make coffee.”