The General of Tiananmen Square

by Ian Hamilton

Genres: Female Sleuths; International Crime & Mystery; Crime Fiction

Synopsis

Ava Lee squares off against the Chinese government over a controversial film depicting the infamous Tiananmen Square Massacre in the latest thriller from bestselling author Ian Hamilton.



Ava Lee is in the French Riviera with Pang Fai and Lau Lau for the long-awaited premiere of Tiananmen at the Cannes Film Festival. As the film collects numerous awards and international acclaim, a distribution deal with a major American firm is arranged by the film’s producer, Chen.



When several months go by with no word from the Americans, Chen decides to travel to Los Angeles to determine what is preventing the film’s release. En route from his home in Bangkok, Chen goes missing. Ava is called in to investigate and soon learns that Chen is being held by the Thai immigration services on orders of the Chinese government, which is unhappy with the film’s depiction of the infamous massacre at Tiananmen Square and seeks to punish those responsible for its production.



To protect her investment, Ava must find a way for Tiananmen to be released, while keeping secret her own involvement in the film’s creation and ensuring her friends are kept safe from retribution. It's a difficult balancing act, perhaps the most difficult of her life — the stakes have never been higher nor has failure been more costly.

 

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Release date: January 3, 2023

Publisher: Spiderline

Print pages: 306

Sample

( 1 )
Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat
May

It was Ava Lee’s first visit to the French Riviera, and as she sat on the terrace of her hotel suite looking out onto the Mediterranean Sea, she knew it wasn’t going to be her last. What she couldn’t understand was why she hadn’t discovered it until now.

It was an early morning in the third week of May. The weather was perfect, with clear skies and temperatures that were warm but not humid, and every morning when Ava sat on the terrace to have coffee she was greeted by a gentle breeze infused with an aroma that was a combination of flowers and the sea.

The hotel — the Grand-Hôtel du Cap-Farrat — was as magnificent as the weather. It had been chosen by Ava’s business partner May Ling Wong. Ava had initially had doubts about staying there because it was more than forty kilo­metres from Cannes, and Cannes — specifically the Cannes Film Festival — was the reason they were in the south of France. But May had been told about the hotel by a friend whose taste she trusted and who thought its tranquil atmos­phere would be more to their liking than the craziness that was Cannes during festival time.

Eighteen months previously, Ava could never have imagin­ed being at the film festival for any reason, let alone having a film in it. But a series of events involving Ava’s lover, the actor Pang Fai, had led Ava to a chance meeting with Fai’s former husband, Lau Lau. There was a time Lau Lau had been regarded as China’s leading film director, but when Ava met him, he was a drug-addicted, unemployable wreck of a human being. But as she spoke to him at that first meeting, memories of the great films he’d made flooded over her and she found herself wondering what if?

What if — at her expense — she could convince him to go into rehabilitation? What if she offered to pay him to write a script? What if he created one that was good enough to be filmed? What if she provided the money to make that happen? What if Lau Lau could be trusted to direct it? What if he could stay clean throughout the filming — and beyond, into editing and promotion? The result of all those “ifs” was a film named Tiananmen, and an invitation to submit the film for consideration at Cannes.

“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re completely lost in thought,” a voice asked from the terrace doorway.

She turned towards Fai. They had been lovers and constant companions for more than two years. It was the most intense and happiest relationship of Ava’s life. Tall, willowy, and elegant, Fai was stunningly beautiful, but when it came to the roles she chose, she never cared about how she looked. Lau Lau had discovered her at the Central Academy of Drama in Beijing, and she had starred in all of his most successful films. Those films were hard-hitting and emotionally challenging, as they dealt with ordinary people trying to cope with the brutal realities of events like the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution. There was nothing glamorous about many of the characters she had played, but she had always been willing to mute her personality and appearance to fit the role.

“I was remembering meeting Lau Lau for the first time at that artists’ commune in Beijing,” said Ava, smiling as Fai stepped b

ehind her and wrapped her arms around Ava’s shoulders.

“What a mess he was. The world had decided he wasn’t fit to be part of it, and he had accepted the world was right until you came along,” said Fai. “Chen and I were speaking about that last night. We still don’t know what you saw in Lau Lau that made you think he was salvageable.”

Chen Jie had been Fai and Lau Lau’s agent, but had been recruited by Ava to produce Tiananmen. He was sharing another suite at the hotel with Silvana Foo, who along with Fai was starring in the film. “I wasn’t sure he was. I just thought he was worth the effort,” Ava said. “Even if he was half the director he had been, I thought he’d still turn out better work than the schlock that dominates Chinese cinema these days.”

“It turns out he’s a lot more than half of what he was. In fact, Chen, Silvana, and I think this could be the best film he’s ever made,” Fai said, moving alongside. She looked at her watch. “But in half an hour we’ll have the first indication of what the international film community thinks of it. I don’t imagine either Lau Lau or Chen slept much last night, thinking about this morning.”

“Amanda also didn’t sleep well. She called me fifteen minutes ago from Hong Kong to ask me if we’d heard anything yet,” said Ava, referring to Amanda Yee, the third partner in Three Sisters. She was also Ava’s sister-in-law through her marriage to Michael, Ava’s half-brother. “She thought it was crazy that they would schedule Tiananmen’s first viewing at seven thirty in the morning. I repeated what you told me about the tradition of morning screenings for critics and other industry people, but Amanda still can’t help thinking they’re slighting us somehow.”

“I thought it was strange the first time I came here, but it’s the way things have always been done — the morning screening for critics, and the evening premiere for the public. The premiere is the main event, and the critics are expected to hold back their reviews and opinions until it’s over, but word always leaks out. And in this case, we have Harris Jones on the inside. He told Chen he’d call him as soon as the screening is finished.”

“Are we paying him to do that, or is he simply being un­ethical on our behalf?” Ava asked with a smile.

“Harris is a film critic, and even if it is for London’s most prestigious newspaper, the job doesn’t require him to pass a morality test,” Fai said. “Besides, I also think he genuinely fell in love with our movie when he saw the rough cut in Taipei. It was very shrewd of Chen to let him be the first outsider to see it. He be

came our champion and promoted the hell out of it to the programmers at Cannes. And when Harris champions, people listen. Chen says he’s the most influential film critic in the English language since Pauline Kael.”

“All those months of work, all those months of anticipation, and it all comes down to what a bunch of strangers think of your work at seven in the morning,” Ava said. “What amazes me is how calm you are.”

“Lau Lau has made a great film. I’ll believe that regardless of what the critics think.”

“Looking back, I remember you were as calm in London when we launched the PÖ line at Fashion Week,” Ava said. “The rest of us were running around like chickens with our heads cut off, and you were an island of serenity. When I mentioned it to you, you said, ‘I love Clark’s clothes and I know how to model them to their greatest advantage. I am an actor, you know. This isn’t a stretch.’ And model them you did. You were spectacular. There had been no need for any of us to worry.”

“What made me nervous that day was the lunch after the London show. I decided to flirt with you — except you didn’t pick up on it,” said Fai.

“I was too star-struck to believe it was possible you could be interested in me.”

“Well, it was a good thing that I persisted,” Fai said, and then kissed Ava gently on the lips.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” Ava asked.

Fai smiled, but before she could say anything, her phone rang. She almost leapt at it. “Wei,” she answered, listened for a few seconds, and then said, “Chen, you have to slow down. I can barely understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

Ava couldn’t hear Chen, but she kept her eyes locked on Fai and tried to discern her reaction. Her face was impassive until her eyebrows rose and her mouth formed a large O. “That should make tonight’s preview more interesting,” Fai said. “We’ll see you at five-thirty in the lobby.”

“Well?” Ava asked as Fai put down the phone.

“Jones told Chen that people stood and clapped when the film ended. Chen is so overwhelmed he could hardly talk,” she said.

“What a relief. I’m so happy for Lau Lau,” Ava said. “So that’s one group down and one to go. I pray that the public screening goes as well.” "T

came our champion and promoted the hell out of it to the programmers at Cannes. And when Harris champions, people listen. Chen says he’s the most influential film critic in the English language since Pauline Kael.”

“All those months of work, all those months of anticipation, and it all comes down to what a bunch of strangers think of your work at seven in the morning,” Ava said. “What amazes me is how calm you are.”

“Lau Lau has made a great film. I’ll believe that regardless of what the critics think.”

“Looking back, I remember you were as calm in London when we launched the PÖ line at Fashion Week,” Ava said. “The rest of us were running around like chickens with our heads cut off, and you were an island of serenity. When I mentioned it to you, you said, ‘I love Clark’s clothes and I know how to model them to their greatest advantage. I am an actor, you know. This isn’t a stretch.’ And model them you did. You were spectacular. There had been no need for any of us to worry.”

“What made me nervous that day was the lunch after the London show. I decided to flirt with you — except you didn’t pick up on it,” said Fai.

“I was too star-struck to believe it was possible you could be interested in me.”

“Well, it was a good thing that I persisted,” Fai said, and then kissed Ava gently on the lips.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” Ava asked.

Fai smiled, but before she could say anything, her phone rang. She almost leapt at it. “Wei,” she answered, listened for a few seconds, and then said, “Chen, you have to slow down. I can barely understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

Ava couldn’t hear Chen, but she kept her eyes locked on Fai and tried to discern her reaction. Her face was impassive until her eyebrows rose and her mouth formed a large O. “That should make tonight’s preview more interesting,” Fai said. “We’ll see you at five-thirty in the lobby.”

“Well?” Ava asked as Fai put down the phone.

“Jones told Chen that people stood and clapped when the film ended. Chen is so overwhelmed he could hardly talk,” she said.

“What a relief. I’m so happy for Lau Lau,” Ava said. “So that’s one group down and one to go. I pray that the public screening goes as well.” 

( 2 )

Tiananmen was scheduled to be shown at seven thirty that night, and a public relations firm Chen had hired would manage Fai, Ava, and May’s arrival at the Palais des Festivals, guide them up the red carpet, handle the media and photographers who would be there, and get them into their seats in time for the start of the film.

Ava and May had been reluctant to do the red carpet, but Fai and Chen insisted they join them. May actually didn’t put up much protest, and spent a day in Shanghai with Clark Po looking at dresses he had created for her before flying into Nice.

Fai didn’t visit with Clark, but they had communicated online. She had always worn Chinese dresses at premieres, and asked him to carry on the tradition. He had made two cheongsams for her, and she insisted Ava decide which one she should wear.

The first was made of red silk with fine ribbons of green and silver, but was rather traditional with a short collar and sleeves, and a moderate slit up one leg.

The second was an electric-blue colour shot through with bright gold strands, a collar that reached almost to Fai’s cheekbones, bell-shaped split sleeves that dangled over her wrists, and a slit that went all the way to her upper thigh.

“What do you think?” Fai asked. “The red one is beautiful, but rather safe, while the blue dress is unlike anything I’ve ever worn. Is it too much?”

“It will certainly attract attention, but what’s the point in coming to Cannes and walking the red carpet if you don’t do that?” Ava said. “Truthfully, the dress by itself is fantastic, and on you it is even more fantastic. This is a special night. The blue cheongsam is a special dress. It’s the one to wear.”

“Then that is what I’ll have on,” Fai said. “I have to say, though, I wish you would wear something a little more colourful than your black dress.”

“Clark made it for me to wear at the reception the night before we introduced the PÖ brand in Shanghai. It makes me feel really feminine. It has also been lucky, and you know how I value luck.”

“Well, it is sexy. Every time I see you in it, it makes me amorous.”

“I’m sure that would make Clark very happy.”

“It should, and so will the fact he’ll have four dresses on the red carpet tonight, when you count May and Silvana.”

Ava hadn’t yet seen what May and Silvana were going to wear, and the way their day was structured, there wouldn’t be the chance until it was time to get into the limos. After the call from Chen, Ava and Fai had gone back to bed and then spent the rest of the morning by the pool. The women were excited when they met for lunch with May and Silvana, where they talked about the critics’ screening, and then they went to their suites to wait for the hairstylists and makeup artists hired by the public relations company.

Ava rarely wore makeup other than a touch of mascara and lipstick, and her hair hadn’t changed in years. She either wore it parted down the middle and let it hang to her shoulders, or pulled it back and fastened it with a chignon pin. Her trips to the hairdresser were for trims and not much more. The last time she had experienced anything different was when she was a maid of honour at Amanda’s wedding and had to undergo her hair being piled on top of her head and spra

yed into a solid block. She had hated it, and was determined not to let anyone do that again, so when the hairstylist arrived at her and Fai’s suite, Ava waved off the attempt to sculpt her hair. She did submit to some extra makeup when the artist pointed out that, without some colour added to her cheeks and lips, her skin was going to look washed out under the camera flashes.

While the beauty crew worked on Fai, Ava slipped on her dress and went to sit on the terrace. Before partnering with May Ling and Amanda, she had been in the debt collection business with an elderly Hong Konger named Uncle. He was a wise man, and he had loved her like a granddaughter and provided her with advice that she continued to value and use. One of the things he’d said to her often was: “We should never get ahead of ourselves or assume too much. We should accept things for what they are and not what we want them to be.” And that’s what she thought as she waited for Fai’s hairstylist to finish. It was terrific that the film had been well-received by the critics, but was that because they actually liked it, or was it possible that some had reacted positively because they wanted to see Lau Lau make a comeback and were willing to embrace whatever he made? The audience reaction that night would be a better gauge, she decided. Then her phone rang and she saw Chen’s name on the screen.

“I thought we were meeting at five thirty, that’s only minutes from now,” she answered. “What happened that you can’t wait until then? Have you already sealed a distribution deal?”

“No, but there is definite interest and we’ll get offers,” he said. “But I’m calling to give you and Fai a heads-up about tonight. When I was in Cannes today having lunch with a distributor, I found myself sitting two tables away from Mo and a group of his executives. They are here in force.”

Ava hesitated. “Mo who is chairman of the China Movie Syndicate?”

“Yes, one and the same.”

“What is he doing here?” she asked.

“Well, given that he manages the organization that has to approve every film made in China, and every film that foreign companies want to screen in China, it is logical that he would attend one of the most prestigious film festivals in the world,” Chen said.

“Him being there, and so close, must have been awkward. Did you acknowledge each other?”

“More than acknowledge,” Chen said. “He came to my table to say that he and his people had arrived in Cannes only that morning, had missed the critics’ scr

eening, and so unfortunately were going to be at our premiere. He said it wasn’t something any of them were looking forward to. He was completely condescending and I responded by doing something I shouldn’t have. I asked him if he had heard how well it had gone for us that morning.”

“That was poking the dragon.”

“I know, and I wish I hadn’t because he became immediately angry, turned to the distributor, and told him that if he ever wanted to have another of his films shown in China then he should have nothing to do with me.”

“So Mo knew him?”

“Mo knows a lot of distributors, but not all of them will bend to his threats.”

“But some will?”

“Of course. Money talks, and China is a big, and growing, market.”

“I wonder after seeing Tiananmen who he’ll hate the most — the film or us?”

“I am quite certain he’ll hate it and us with equal passion, but now that our film is made I don’t know what he can do to cause us or it any harm,” Chen said. “The only reason I told you I saw him was because I didn’t want you or Fai to be unpleasantly surprised.”

“Thanks for that, Chen. We’ll see you at five thirty,” Ava said, ending the call.

She stared out at the sea. An almost perfect day had just hit a speed bump, albeit maybe a small one. Mo was potentially the most powerful man in the world of Chinese film, and had the ability to not only approve what could be made and seen in China, but also make or break the career of anyone working in the industry. Fai had become a target of his displeasure when she’d refused to trade sex for roles. He’d threatened to end her career in China, and when that didn’t get the result he wanted, Fai was blackmailed with sex tapes that would have exposed her true sexuality. Ava had intervened, and managed to pressure Mo into backing down when she discovered and promised to make public the fact that his son and only child was gay. It was something Ava regretted having to do, and she had felt immense relief when it became unnecessary.

“Every time I come out here, you seem to be staring out at the sea and lost in deep thought,” Fai said from behind.

Ava turned to look at her. “Oh my god, you look just fantastic,” she said.

“It’s amazing what a brilliant designer dress and an hour or so with a fabulous hairstylist and makeup master can do for a woman,” said Fai.

“You’re going to light up that red carpet.”

“I only hope that I’ll be able to sit when we get inside the Palais. This dress is really tight around the hips. I think I’ve put on some weight.”

“I’ll help ease you into your seat,” Ava said.

“That should make for an interesting few seconds. We can practise when I get into the limo,” Fai said. “Speaking of which, we should probably think about heading downstairs.”

“We’ll go in a few minutes. Chen phoned me while you were finishing up inside. He had some news I wasn’t thrilled to hear — Mo and his crew are in Cannes. Chen doesn’t assign any particular importance to the fact. He just thought we should know so we’re not surprised if he pops into view,” Ava said, downplaying Chen’s interaction with Mo.

“He has come to see Tiananmen.”

“You said that with conviction.”

Fai shrugged. “He will have read Harris Jones’s article. It not only ran in the Tribune; it was picked up by at least ten other major newspapers. Mo will want to see for himself how the film deals with the events of June fourth.”

“Jones focused as much on the human elements as the political.”

“I doubt Mo and his cronies will care about that in the least.”

“We always knew it could be controversial, especially in the short term. We have prepared as well as we can for that possibility,” said Ava.

Fai nodded. “I know, but that doesn’t stop me worrying. Last night in bed I kept asking myself what is best for all of us — that the movie be a huge hit or a flop? The artist part of me wants a hit; the realist believes it might be easier on all our lives if it isn’t.”

“Everyone I spoke to before I committed to this project warned me that there was nothing the Chinese government was more sensitive about than Tiananmen Square, so I didn’t go into this with my eyes closed,” Ava said. “You, Lau Lau, and Chen were among those who gave the warning. Yet here we all are in Cannes getting ready to screen a film that we knew ahead of time the Chinese government would detest and do everything possible to discredit and destroy. What does that say about us?”

“Lau Lau needed resurrection, and whatever happens to him can’t be worse than the hell he was in. Chen has spent his entire career on the outside looking in. Now he has a chance to leave his mark, and I have to say he’s relishing it. As for me, I was carrying a lot of guilt

about Lau Lau, and quite honestly worried that I’d never find another role of which I could be proud. We are all getting something we want. But tell me, Ava, what are you getting?”

Ava smiled. “At the start it was all about Lau Lau. I couldn’t stop thinking about the marvellous films he’d made, and I couldn’t stop equating those with the mess of a human being I met. All I wanted to do was give him the chance to do great work again. I didn’t expect a script about Tiananmen Square, but when we got it, and saw how powerful it was, how could I say no to it . . . ? There are some truths too big to bury.”