Chapter 9
“—some unknown branch of the S. Chen family.” Race almost dropped the tray. It was so utterly unexpected. His knees almost failed him, the tea quivered under the covers over the cups. But the door had slid silently aside, he dare do nothing to attract attention.
The spasm was over in a half-second and none of the Starlings had glanced around. He advanced with a steady step. Norton Altamont was saying, “You know the Chens, Starling. Anything is possible of them.”
“True. This one calls himself Hans Chen. But he didn’t have the Chen trade mark blazoned on the doors of his car.”
Race placed the tray on the table, swiftly and deftly transferred the cups of carmine tea and the tiny crystal vials of kip essences: turquoise, aquamarine, sapphire, cobalt.
The stranger was a slender m
