Country Driving [174]
None of the officials was particularly well dressed, but they held their heads high, and one of them flashed an identification card from the Lishui State Tax Bureau. His name was Liu. He wore blue jeans and an orange T-shirt, and he had the kind of crew cut that often means trouble in China. That’s the official haircut of the Chinese bully; my heart always sinks a little at the sight of a flattop. Nevertheless I handed Cadre Liu a business card of my own. He studied it for a moment and shrugged: if I wasn’t connected to the factory, he had no interest in me. He turned to Boss Wang.
“We brought some of your registration papers,” he said. “You need to sign them. You’re supposed to have done this before you started production.”
“I kn-kn-know,” Boss Wang said, “we’ve been p-p-planning to do that. But we haven’t started selling anything yet.”
Boss Wang’s stutter always appeared when he was nervous, and now his eyelids fluttered and his voice rose a couple of octaves. He poured cups of tea for the men, gesturing for them to sit on the pleather couch. But they remained standing. Cadre Liu wandered over to examine the door.
“This place doesn’t seem very safe,” he said. “Why don’t you have a better lock?”
“We just moved in. We’re still setting everything up.”
“Somebody could come in through the window. Where do you keep the receipts?”
Boss Wang showed him a metal file box.
“You should make it more secure. There’s theft around here.”
The other two men made a slow circuit of the room, examining the barren furnishings. One of them studied the screen of Boss Gao’s computer; another flipped through a sample book. “Is this what you make?” he said.
“Yes.”
“What materials does it require?”
“Just metal and nylon coating. It’s very simple.”
“What are the byproducts? Anything dangerous?”
“No. Just water. And high temperature. It’s not a problem.”
“You know,” Cadre Liu said, “it would have been better if you had contacted us earlier.”
Boss Wang flushed. “I c-c-called the tax bureau but I couldn’t get an answer about the registration, so I figured I’d wait. You have to understand, I don’t know anybody here. We’re just getting s-s-started. It’s better if we meet personally, so I thought the phone wasn’t convenient.”
Two of the men finally settled onto the couch, but Cadre Liu still drifted. Now he stood by the window, peering out at Suisong Road. “The environment here isn’t very good,” he remarked.
“Everything is still new,” Boss Wang said. “They haven’t finished the street.”
“How many workers do you have?”
“T-t-twelve or thirteen. After we have customers we’ll add more.”
“How many?”
“Maybe fifty to sixty.”
“What about that part of the building down there?”
“That’s not ours. That’s being rented by another company. They’re moving here from Shanghai.”
“What’s their product?”
“Thermoses.”
Cadre Liu nodded—he probably did this everywhere, gathering intelligence on any new companies that could be shaken down. He turned again to Boss Wang. “Do you have an accountant?”
“We have a secretary who handles accounts. We don’t need a real accountant yet.”
“Well, you’re going to need one soon.”
“Once business picks up we’ll hire one.”
Cadre Liu took another card out of his pleather money bag. “You should call this company,” he said. “My friend is the boss, and he can provide an accounting service.”
There was only the slightest pause before Boss Wang responded. Then he said the right thing: “H-h-how much?”
“I think it’s around six or seven hundred a month. But I’m not sure. You can call them. They’re a very good company.”
Boss Wang left the card sitting on his desk. For Cadre Liu, it served two purposes: