Gai-Jin (153 page)

“Vargas!”

“Yes, senhor.”

“Take this lot of mail, copy it and seal it—I’ll deal with the rest this afternoon. I’ll be back later.”

“Captain Biddy wasn’t in the Club but expected, senhor. I left a message.”

“Thanks.” Unhurried, he put on his coat and hat and went out, leant against the rain-filled wind. He was almost alone on the High Street. At the North Gate, Cornishman was nowhere to be seen. A few samurai guards huddled in the lee of their Customs House. Some traders were scuttling for the Club and a late tiffin. A few waved. One of them stopped and urinated in the gutter. South Drunk Town seemed even more squalid under the overcast. This’s no place for a woman, he thought.

“Ahoy, Jamie!” Hoag called from the cutter.

“Hello, Doc. Hello, Settry.” They clambered onto the rough, tarred planks, the piling timbers sunk deep in the seabed, creaking with the thrust of the waves. One look at Hoag was enough to know that the switch had been successful, however much the squat man pretended nonchalance. So we’re committed, he thought. Pallidar was having a coughing fit. “Settry, you’d better get that fixed before it turns into something worse.”

“It already has,” Pallidar said sourly. “This so-called doctor gave me a potion that’s bound to kill me. Doc,” he said, coughing again, “if it does, when it does, the hell with you.”

Hoag laughed. “A double-strength toddy and you’ll be right as rain tomorrow. Jamie, everything’s all right?”

“Yes.”

Pallidar said, “I’m turning responsibility of the coffin over to you, Jamie. It goes aboard
Cloud
at once?”

“About half an hour. Angelique wanted to … to say good-bye. Reverend Tweet will add a few words.”

“Then she’s definitely not going by the clipper?”

“I don’t know, Settry, not positively. Last I heard she was going by the mail ship, but you know how women are.”

“Don’t blame her. Going back aboard the clipper would give me the creeps too.” Pallidar blew his nose and huddled deeper into his greatcoat. “If you want I’ll get Sir William to send the coffin by mail ship, then they’d arrive together.”

“No,” Hoag said, too quickly for Jamie, then recovered, “no, Settry old boy, I wouldn’t recommend that, medically. Best leave arrangements as they are, coffin by
Prancing Cloud
. Angelique’s all right now but a sudden shock could shove her back into a nightmare. Better she goes by mail ship and the coffin by clipper.”

“Just as you want. Jamie, I’m recommending to William we shut down Kanagawa at once—that’s why I came back.”

“Christ Almighty, why?”

Pallidar told him about the patrols and numerous samurai around. “Not to worry. We can blow ’em all to hell. Mind, if I have the cutter take me back, it’d save me time.”

“Why not go with her to
Prancing Cloud
, and she can take you direct after that. Are you overnighting at Kanagawa?”

“No, I’ve seen enough and just have to get my lads,” Pallidar said to their relief. “The clerks and guards can evacuate over the next few days. See you later.” He walked off, coughing.

Before he was hardly out of hearing distance Hoag said, “It went perfectly, Jamie.”

“Not now, for Christ’s sake.” In spite of the cold and wet Jamie was sweating. He led the way back to the High Street to the lee of a bungalow, safe from other ears. “What happened?”

“It worked like a charm. This morning as soon as the cutter arrived we went to the morgue an—”

“Who’s we?”

“Settry, Sergeant Towery, the Bosun and two crew. We draped and secured the flag to the coffin and they put it aboard the cutter. The other one
is waiting for us tonight or whenever—supposedly waiting for cremation.” Hoag peered seawards, against the rain. “No chance tonight, eh?”

“No. But it’ll blow itself out by morning. I think.”

“Good.” Hoag rubbed his hands against the cold. “Everything worked like a dream. One small problem, the native was tiny, just skin and bones so I packed his coffin with earth to make up the difference in their weights.”

“God Almighty, of course! I’d forgotten about that. That was clever.”

“Did that last night, no trouble—no one said a thing when they put the coffin aboard the cutter, not a sausage.”

“My God, this is all so dicey,” Jamie said uneasily. “How are we going to get the other coffin out of the Legation with the clerks and soldiers there?”

“Already taken care of that.” Hoag chortled. “I told our Japanese assistants to put it in the shed by our Kanagawa jetty, it’s not far from the crematorium. They can do it without arousing any suspicion. George told me he puts coffins and bodies there when he has an overload. It’s routine.”

“Marvelous! How far is it from the jetty?”

“Fifty yards or so. Three of us can carry it easily and we’ll have the Bosun, won’t we?”

“Yes. You’ve done damn well. Damn well.” Jamie squinted into the rain. “Pity we couldn’t do it tonight and finish it.”

“Never mind. Tomorrow will be fine.” Hoag was very confident and pleased with Jamie’s praise. No need to tell about being spotted and about Pallidar. This morning they had had breakfast together and when he said: “Settry, about last night …” Pallidar had interrupted him: “Forget it, just forget it, Doctor, that’s the best thing for you to do.”

That is best, he thought, beaming, forget it ever happened. “Shall we fetch Angelique? How is she?”

Within the hour they had reassembled beside the cutter. The rain was heavier and the wind squalling. Spray came over part of the jetty. The cutter, well moored, dipped and fell with the waves, ropes creaking. Angelique wore black, a black cloak raincoat over her dyed black dress, black hat with a heavy black veil, and an umbrella. The umbrella was sky-blue, a startling contrast.

Surrounding her were Jamie, Skye, Dmitri, Tyrer, Sir William and other Ministers, Captain Strongbow, Gornt, Marlowe, Pallidar, Vargas, André, Seratard, the Reverend Tweet and many others, all bundled against the rain. In the background Father Leo stood bleakly, hands in his sleeves, peering out from under his cowl. Jamie had invited Tweet to say a blessing: “It would be odd if we didn’t, Angelique. I’ll make sure there’s no real service, or speeches, that wouldn’t be correct, just a blessing.”

The inclement weather helped to make the blessing brief. For once,
Tweet was curiously eloquent. When he finished, self-consciously they all looked at her. Overhead, gulls cawed as the wind swirled them past, riding the currents joyously. Sir William said, “Again, Madame, my deepest condolences.”

“Thank you.” She stood straight, rain spattering off her umbrella. “I protest that I am not allowed to bury my husband openly as he and I wish.”

“Your protest is noted, Madame.” Sir William raised his hat. The rest filed past, saying their condolences and raising their hats or saluting if in uniform. Strongbow saluted and stepped into the cutter, Pallidar boarded after him as Marlowe stopped in front of her, still upset. “I’m so terribly sorry,” he said, saluting, and walked off.

Father Leo was last. Somberly he made the sign of the cross, saying the Latin words, his face mostly hidden.

“But he’s not Catholic, Father,” she said gently.

“I think he was one of us, senhora, in his heart.” Father Leo’s accent was thickened with grief, his night spent in prayer, asking what should he do, should he attend or not. “He would have seen the Light, you would have helped him, I’m sure of it.
In nomine Patris
…”

Unhappily he ambled away. Now only Jamie, Hoag and Skye stood with her on the jetty. “What now, Jamie?” she asked, a deep melancholy swooping over her.

“We wait a minute,” he said.

Like the others he was feeling that he was part of a cheat, at the same time deeply moved and not a cheat. This is just to help a friend, he told himself. You promised to guard his tail, and hers. That’s what you’re doing. Yes, but it’s cheating and I hate it. Forget that, you’re their leader, act like one. “Captain Strongbow, cast off! Godspeed!”

“Aye, aye, sir, thank you.” The cutter eased away, dipping in the troughs, then picked up speed. Sea gulls mewed in her wake. They watched her go.

“It feels so odd,” she murmured, weeping silently. “It is, and it isn’t. We’re not wrong, are we? Are we?”

Again Jamie made the decision for all of them. “No,” he said, and took her arm and walked her home.

Just before sunset, Vargas knocked on the tai-pan’s office door. “Mr. Gornt to see you, senhora. Monsieur André left a message that Monsieur Seratard would be honored if you would dine with him.”

“Thank them but say no, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps. Hello, Edward. Come in.” Again she sat in an easy chair by the windows, the day dark and rainy. A white wine was opened and waiting in ice. One fine glass was upended in the ice and chilling. “Please help yourself, you’re boarding now?”

“Yes, the tender’s ready. Your health, Ma’am.”

“And yours. Are you the only passenger?”

“I don’t know.” He hesitated. “You look wonderful, ethereal, and unobtainable, Ma’am.”

“I will be sorry to see you go. Perhaps everything will be better when you return,” she said, liking him as before. “Will you come back or first go to Shanghai?”

“I’ll know better in Hong Kong. Where will you be staying? On the Peak in the Struan Great House?”

“I’ve not decided—finally—even if I’ll go.”

“But…you won’t be at the funeral?” he asked, confused.

“I’ll decide tomorrow,” she said, wanting to keep him off balance, him and everyone, even Jamie. “Mr. Skye strongly advises me to stay here, and I don’t feel well.” She shrugged. “I’ll decide tomorrow, I’ve a berth reserved. I desperately wish to be with him, I need to be there, and yet, if he’s not buried as he wishes and I wish, then … then I’ve failed.”

“You haven’t failed him, Ma’am. Everyone knows that.”

“You won’t fail me, will you, Edward? You’ll deliver my letter to her, everything, as we discussed?”

“At once. A promise is a promise. A matter of honor, Ma’am.” He looked at her directly.

“And I promised too. Didn’t I? A matter of honor. Eternal friendship.”

The way she said the two words was a promise and not a promise. For the life of him he could not read her as he had before. Earlier he would have known how far that promise would take him. Now there was a barrier. I’m glad, he thought, for if there’s a barrier for me it will exist for every man. Six months is still not much to wait and a perfect time.

So she may not be in Hong Kong. How does that affect me? “My plans, Ma’am? They depend on Tess Struan.” He wanted to tell Angelique his real plan, but was far too shrewd to indicate that, even obliquely. “I’m hoping she’ll act on the information I’ll give her. That will take a month, at least. If she wishes I’ll wait the month and help—she’ll need help, Ma’am. It all depends on her. If you arrive by mail ship we can talk more there. If not, may I write?”

“Of course, yes, please. I would like that. By every mail. I promise I will keep you advised of my plans.” She opened the drawer and took out an envelope. It was addressed to Mrs. Tess Struan. And unsealed. “You may read it.”

“Thank you, Ma’am, but that’s not necessary.”

Angelique took it back, did not seal it but just tucked the flap into the back. “This will save you the trouble of steaming the flap open, Edward.”

He laughed. “What makes you so sure I’d do that?”

“I would. It would be too much of a temptation. But please seal it before you give it to her.”

He nodded. “You once said, now you knew why your husband liked me, why I would be a dangerous enemy, an even more dangerous friend. Perhaps that applies to you, Angelique.”

“Perhaps it does,” she said simply. “I’m feeling my way in this new world, Edward. It’s fraught with difficulties, and with quicksands. But you will find me very dependable once I’ve given my word, as I have. Do not forget I am French.” A little smile. “Read it.”

The letter read:

She had dated it, and signed it Angelique Struan, Yokohama. There was a P.S.:
Strange, isn’t it, we who have so much in common—I hate my father too, he tried to destroy me too—have been so far apart, so unnecessarily

Edward Gornt sealed the envelope thoughtfully. He put it in his pocket and raised his glass. “A long life—you’re a remarkable woman, remarkable.”

“How so?”

“You ask for nothing, give everything,” he said with genuine admiration, and did not add, And you do not mention thirty days when, as women, that will be uppermost in both your minds—for if you are carrying his child, the Struan empire is mostly yours whether daughter or son, though a son would be perfect! And even if you’re not, an immodest claim on Struan’s is just as perfect and unassailable. In either case you will still marry me! “You are a great woman,” he said calmly. “I hope I may be allowed to share an everlasting friendship.”

He got up, gallantly kissed her hand and did not linger.

Alone again she nodded to herself, content, then poured wine into his glass—there were other glasses within easy reach but she chose his deliberately and sipped with added enjoyment. Then grimly raised the glass seawards: “Godspeed,
Prancing Cloud.”
Another sip. And she smiled.