‘Tony, I am very disappointed with you.’ It could not have been a more pleasant tone.
‘What . . . ? I don’t understand . . . Why . . . ? What have I done . . . ?’ the words tumbled from the little man, his voice rising in panic.
‘What have you done? You’re trying to tell me you don’t know?’
‘Of course I don’t know. I don’t owe you money any more; we settled that ten days after . . .’
‘Ten days after you so kindly presented me with your beautiful daughter, yes. I thanked you then, Tony Man Song Hing. Now, it is time to curse you.’
‘If she has not pleased you . . .’
‘Oh, she pleased me for a time. Then we discovered that she had a small, short-wave transmitter hidden in this house. In my house, Tony. I knew she was a United States Naval officer. I did not know she was an intelligence officer and that she was spying. Your precious daughter was spying on me, Tony . . .’
‘I had no idea . . . What . . . ?’
‘Tony.’ He shook his great head and his voice took on the same soft and mellow tone he would doubtless use when making love. ‘Tony, how can I believe you?’
‘You must! You must believe me!’
‘I’m sorry, but I cannot take that risk. She is a spy. We will deal with her. You introduced her to me, so you must pay also.’ His eyes lifted to look at Ding standing in the doorway. Behind Ding, Bond could make out the figure of Frozen Stalk Pu.
Very softly, Brokenclaw Lee said, ‘Throw him to the wolves.’
Tony Man Song Hing began to blubber and scream as Ding, assisted by Pu, grabbed him, pulling him from the floor and dragging him from the room. The cries and screams echoed from outside for almost thirty seconds.
In the silence that followed, Bond felt he had to make some remark gauged to show his contempt for anyone like Man Song Hing. ‘That is a good description, sir. Throw him to the wolves. Your men are undoubtedly as ferocious as that poor dying breed of animals.’
‘My men?’ Lee looked at him with a blankness which was almost bone-chilling. ‘A description? That wasn’t a description, Peter Abelard. That was reality. I have a pack of seven wolves. As you say, they are a dying breed, a threatened species. I meant what I said. My wolves are hungry. My men will strip Mr Man Song Hing then cover his body with various animal fats which attract my little pack. After that, they will throw him to my wolves. You’d like to watch?’
‘No, I think not. Not this time anyway.’ Bond thought Chi-Chi was going to vomit.
‘Well, now. I suppose Ms Mo – Jenny – here should get dressed, so that we can start you off, looking through the intelligence I’ve gathered for you.’
There was a slight pause, then Chi-Chi took the cue, ‘Yes, if it’s as good as you say – and I don’t doubt that it is – I’ll have my time cut out getting it made into microdots for the transference back to Beijing Hsia. They will be pleased to see it there.’
‘Yes, I set great store by the analysts at Beijing Hsia. I meant to ask, how was old One-Eye H’ang when you last saw him?’
‘In excellent spirits,’ Bond filled in, as Chi-Chi left the table and began to make her excuses.
‘Yes, it will be good to see him again.’ Brokenclaw had gone to stand near the empty fireplace. ‘I presume that it will be you, Peter, who will be smuggling the microdots out of here; I mean, Jenny is so good with numbers and the computers that I imagine she will be the one who stays to assist with the real work, with what old One-Eye has so humorously called Operation Jericho.’
‘Yes. Yes,’ Bond said hurriedly, hoping that Chi-Chi would remain calm.
‘So, you will want to get away by late tonight I shouldn’t doubt?’
‘If we can complete the work.’
‘And if you can get the promised payment, which, of course, you will. What a pity, Peter. You’ll miss old One-Eye H’ang. He doesn’t arrive here until tomorrow night.’
James Bond felt that the earth was about to swallow him up. Chi-Chi just went chalk white, swaying slightly in the doorway.
Brokenclaw was not even looking at them. ‘Yes, it will be very good to talk again with One-Eye. It has been a long time.’
13
BLACK MAGIC
James Bond did not dare to follow Chi-Chi back to the guest suite. She was good, but the sudden knowledge of the imminence of Hung Chow H’ang’s arrival and of another operation on the boil might just throw her into speaking questions aloud. He simply hoped that he could give her some comfort as they went through the farce of examining the Lords and Lords Day intelligence. Neither Chi-Chi nor Bond were in any way qualified to judge the importance of the technology.
When M and Franks had spoken to him about the further possibility of Brokenclaw being involved in Jericho, he had suggested that Chi-Chi should be briefed, but time was pressing and the likelihood of the matter arising seemed so remote that M had actually said, ‘If, by any unhappy chance, it does come up, you’ll have to busk it, 007.’
Franks had commented that, for the Chinese, the operation was so remote and vague that he would put hard cash down on Brokenclaw having no knowledge whatsoever. ‘Mind you,’ Franks had said towards the end of the briefing, ‘if it were the Japanese, the picture would be different. There’s already been a leak from the Japs. A complete document, circulated on the Hill and under analysis at Langley, seems to suggest a covert operation against the economy of the United States.’
There it had been left, and Bond cursed himself for not having at least given her the sketchy improbabilities during their journey. What he had to do now was give his imprimatur to the material Brokenclaw had produced, and so force the question of money which appeared to be Brokenclaw’s obsession. There was little doubt in his mind that Mr Brokenclaw Lee was, like so many wealthy men, preoccupied with the acquisition of more money. A Biblical text ran, unbidden, through his head. ‘Unto every one that hath shall be given . . . but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.’ He always remembered that text. It was the kind of thing he imagined tax inspectors the world over had embroidered on samplers and hung over their desks.
Brokenclaw, who had excused himself at the same time as Chi-Chi, now returned, carrying a large leather file which he held up proudly. ‘Here is the information asked for by Beijing Hsia. It’s coded Black Magic, around two hundred pages in all, but I should imagine Jenny and yourself will authenticate it quite quickly.’
‘I should imagine so. We know what to look for.’
‘Good. Now, Peter, what are the actual arrangements for you regarding the money? You said that you had the means to collect it. What does this entail?’
‘Nothing difficult, if we are as close to San Francisco as you say we are.’
‘We are between Big Sur and Monterey, well back from the PCH, in pretty barren country, though we have some trees which afford protection for transport. You have to go to San Francisco to lay your hands on the money?’
‘We have an arrangement with a bank. They will pay me, and me alone, with a banker’s draft made out to whoever you like.’
‘Where in the Bay area?’
‘I need to get near to Fisherman’s Wharf. It’s not far from there.’
Brokenclaw smiled as though supremely happy. ‘Then there is no problem. One of our vehicles is a helicopter and Ding can accompany you. We have a working arrangement with a firm called Chopper Views. They maintain two helipads near the Wharf.’
‘Then, it’s only a fifteen-minute walk, maybe half-an-hour.’ Bond shrugged, giving the impression that the whole business was of no consequence. ‘If we don’t get all this stuff dealt with today, I can go down in the morning.’