The Plot by Kathleen McCabe Lamarche Page A

shivered at the sight of them. It hadn't been until several years later that Daddy told her the police were there not as bodyguards but as enforcers .
    She shuddered, remembering the night they took her father and mother away. The loud banging on the door just as they sat down to dinner. The smell of baked fish. May Lee's voice rising as she spoke rapidly in Chinese to the soldiers, who pushed past her into the dining room. Their big rifles. The thick gloves. The goggles on their faces. Daddy's whispered instructions to pretend they didn't understand Chinese. It was nearly a week before Mother came home. So thin. Dark circles under her eyes. Daddy had been gone for nearly a month. Cassie shook her head. When he did return, the interim Hong Kong government, controlled behind the scenes by the Communist Chinese, ordered him to leave the country within twenty-four hours.
    She recalled their hasty packing. Many of her mother's cherished keepsakes had to be left behind. Although the Governor promised to have them shipped later, he was unable to do so. The new government had “appropriated” them as the “rightful heritage of the Chinese people.” Cassie frowned. Yeah. Like Mother's collection of German nutcrackers.
    "Mother and Daddy are both gone now, the Hong Kong they loved exists no more, and I'm no longer a little girl,” Cassie murmured. She laid the photo between sheets of tissue paper and placed it atop the others in the small box, closing the lid as May Lee came into the study.
    "I've put everything away that can be salvaged,” Cassie told her. “So you can take over as soon as you're ready."
    May Lee nodded, then bent down to pick up a torn photograph. “Why would they want to destroy your father's pictures?” she asked, fitting the two pieces together.
    "I don't know, May Lee. It makes—"
    "Look. There's some writing on the back of this one,” May Lee interrupted, handing it to her.
    Cassie studied it for a moment, turned the picture over to see who was in the photo, then again looked at the notation on the back. Firethorne. With my compliments. Joshua. “That's funny. Why would Daddy keep a photo of Uncle Hamilton unless he was in it, too?” she murmured aloud. “May Lee, I don't remember ever seeing this before. Have you?"
    She looked at the photo again. “No. Not ever. And I dust everything twice a week."
    Cassie lay the photo on the desk and turned on the lamp. The picture was grainy, as if it was copied from another photograph. No. More like it was copied from a videotape . Some of the faces were hard to make out, but she recognized the former President, the now-dead Russian Premier, and Uncle Hamilton. They were seated at a broad conference table across from a couple of Asian men and one who looked distinctly Middle Eastern.
    "Maybe he had it in one of his files,” May Lee offered.
    Cassie walked back across the room that was still littered with torn photos and papers. “Where did you find it?"
    "Right there,” she answered, pointing to the floor just in front of her.
    Stooping, Cassie picked up another photo that had been torn in half. It had been taken during Mother and Daddy's anniversary trip to Europe. They were standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, holding hands. She went back to the desk and lay the photo of her parents on top of the other photograph. The tears were a perfect match. Daddy had hidden the Firethorne photo behind the other one . Apparently, the burglars had torn them up as one, not realizing two different pictures were in the same frame.
    "Do you recognize either of these Asian men?"
    May Lee crossed to the desk and looked closely. She still had ties to Hong Kong and kept abreast of the news from there. “This one here,” she pointed to the one on the left, “looks like the Chinese Minister of Defense. I can't remember his name, but I saw his picture the other day in the Hong Kong newspaper. He was on a tour of Naval bases."
    Don't trust anyone , Daddy had said in his