Mrs. Pollifax and the Hong Kong Buddha (24 page)

Rubin broke in to say, “That was Feng’s passion, but the Liberation 80’s group, on the other hand, were going to demand ten million in gold for themselves and safe passage out of Hong Kong, probably to Libya.”

Mrs. Pollifax shook her head over the madness of it all. “And Eric the Red?”

“Dead,” Robin told her without expression. “He and two others were killed at the elevator. The remaining terrorists have been showing the police where the random bombs were planted—rather a lot of them, too,” he added, “thereby hoping for reduced prison sentences, which is highly unlikely. Rumors are running high in Hong Kong, but the Governor’s suppressed all news about this until the last bombs have been found. To avoid panic.”

“But of course,” said Marko quietly, “the main purpose of the Liberation 80’s group—and the reason they were open to Mr. Feng’s diabolical scheme—was the sense of power they’d achieve. Still another strike against law and order and civilizing governments—and undoubtedly a sense of renewal at being in action again, at sitting up in the tower with their guns and hostages and looking down at the rest of us with contempt.

There was silence and then Cyrus said, “But it didn’t happen.”

“Not this time, no,” said Marko. “Not here, not now, not this time.”

They reflected on these words until Mr. Hitchens lifted his glass of champagne and said, “Then I suggest we drink a toast to what didn’t happen, and perhaps Mrs. Pollifax would care to add something to that?”

She smiled at him. “Yes—yes I think I’d like to,” she said, and thought about this while her gaze moved from one person to the next at the table around her: to Marko with his wise-old-soul eyes, to Robin with whom she’d shared a second adventure, to Sheng Ti who would soon enter the United States with Lotus—Carstairs had assured her of this only an hour ago—and to Alec Hao who had lost a father but regained a future.

Her glance moved to Mr. Hitchens, diligently collecting his Learning Experiences, and to Ruthie, who had apparently collected
him
 … She thought too of the cable she’d received only an hour ago from Bishop:
DON
’
T EVER EVER DO THIS TO US AGAIN STOP CARSTAIRS APPLYING ICE PACKS AND TAKING SEDATIVES STOP CABLE ARRIVAL TIME NEW YORK AND WARN CYRUS OF LARGE AFFECTIONATE DEMONSTRATIONS TO THANK FOR RESCUING STOP ALL LOVE BISHOP
.

Her eyes met Cyrus’s last of all—Cyrus, with whom she was to continue living after all, savoring those small exquisite joys of sharing.

Lifting her glass she gave him a radiant smile and said with feeling, “To amateurs—angry, determined, caring amateurs … And to what almost—but didn’t—happen in Hong Kong.”

“Mrs. Pollifax gives Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple a rival to reckon with.”
—The Toronto Star