The room came to life, revealing a spectacle difficult to match in the Western world. Against all four walls glass-fronted cabinets displayed a spectacular array of exquisite carvings; there were standing beauties in graceful postures holding flowers, trays, and ritual objects. There were vases, incense burners, jars intertwined by leaves and flowers frozen in perpetual beauty, several Pi discs mounted vertically in intricately carved wooden stands. There were recognizable animals and fabulous creatures that had lived only in legend and mythology. A unicorn raised his head in defiant urgency; next to him a catlike creature crouched ready to spring. Delicate bowls stood in serene beauty, so thin that the concealed lighting was visible through their sides. Almost every color known to nature created a phantasmagoric world; the whole effect was breathtaking, even to those who had seen it without any knowledge of the wealth of tradition and culture that it represented.
From beneath his gown Mr. Wang produced a ring of keys, and unlocked the cabinet which contained the earliest antiques. A place had already been prepared for the ancient badge of office. Lifting it for the first time from its cushioned box, he placed it carefully into position and 4
stepped back to inspect the results. Satisfied, he relocked the case and then led the way into the living room. Yumeko followed after she had turned off the lights and secured the door, aware that her benefactor wished to speak further with her.
In a manner that was a fortunate compromise between East and West Mr. Wang seated himself in an upholstered chair and motioned to Yumeko to make herself comfortable. When she had done so, he placed his arms formally on the sides of his chair and addressed her. "It is many months now since you first came here. I wish to say that each day you have been in my home, you have filled it with an empathy which has brought me much happiness."
Yumeko lowered her head, but understood she was not to interrupt his discourse.
*'It is my acute misfortune to have reached an age where I can regard you only as something precious to behold."
"But still, people talk." She thought she saw what was coming and she wanted desperately to forestall it
"My dear, there is nothing more futile in life than concerning oneself about what people think. It is more to the point to let them worry about how you regard them. Persons who observe others' affairs condemn themselves. Ignore them; it is what they most deserve and at the same time the punishment they are least prepared to endure."
"I will remember your wisdom."
Mr. Wang continued. "Despite the fact that you have been out of this house very little, you have greatly improved your knowledge of the language and of the nature of this country. It is now my wish that you abandon your seclusion and begin to build a social life for yourself."
Yumeko bowed her head. "I can deny you nothing," she said. "But what you are asking of me is beyond what I can endure. It is best that I go back where I came from."
Slowly Mr. Wang shook his head. "You have one life to live here on this earth, the rest is uncertain. You cannot throw it away. Some things are beyond our powers to change, in that case they must be endured. I am of the opinion that you will find your burdens to be much less than you envision them."
She knew he was not withdrawing his support from her; rather he was doing something which he conceived of as being for her own good. And in that respect he had never been wrong. The more graciously she accepted his decision, the more respect she could show him and all that he had done for her in the past.
"Shall I seek employment?" she asked.
"It has already been arranged for you. I am fortunate in having a valued friend who operates a wholesale travel business. He is in need of someone who is fluent in Japanese and English and who can write both languages. You possess those qualifications. An interview will be unnecessary; he was kind enough to accept the judgment of someone as Hi-qualified as myself."
Yumeko lowered her head; she did not ask the question that was in the forefront of her mind because it could have only one answer-^her prospective employer knew who and what she was. "I am pleased to do as you wish. I hope I may do you honor."
Mr. Wang smiled at her. "You have always done that I trust that you wiU return as often as you find it convenient to my poor house and brighten it with your presence."
She looked at him quickly and tightened her small hands into fists. "I do not wish to leave you, sir. Please allow me to continue to live here."
Again he raised his hand, a gesture which commanded her to silence. When he spoke, the tones of his voice took on a new gentleness and understanding of her position. "To have you remain here would grant my dearest wish, but I cannot permit it There are several reasons, but one overshadows the rest."
"Please do not tell me that it is for my own good," Yumeko pleaded.
Mr. Wang smiled at her. "I shall not do that. It is another matter entirely. There are forces of which you have no understanding which presently surround me. When our forebears, yours and mine, spoke of evil spirits, it was of such as are pressing me now."
She tightened her hands until the knuckles went white. "Are you in any danger?"
"Danger is not easily defined. I have taken certain precautions, but it will come anyway. When it does, it may be a very little thing. Even if it is no more than that, I do not want you to be involved."
"But you could be in actual danger," she persisted.
Once more he lifted an eloquent hand. "I beg of you, dismiss it from your mind. A very small wind seldom blows out the candle, even if the flame is already faltering."
CHAPTER 2
Although his office was comfortably air-conditioned, Chief Robert McGowan of the Pasadena Police Department could almost feel the midsummer heat outside. The brilliant California sun baked the window glass and burned hard patterns onto the carpeting. It was proving to be a hot summer indeed, and there were many who, in their way, were trying to make it hotter still.
Bob McGowan sat with his long frame twisted sideways in his chair and his feet stretched across an open lower drawer of his desk. While he clarified his thoughts he studied an attractive bamboohke plant that was growing with airy grace in a pot on his windowsill. Few of the visitors to his office who admired it knew that it was marijuana. Downstairs in the narcotics division there was a considerable collection of other exhibits, some of them less than pleasant, that were kept on hand for educational and training purposes.
McGowan had been selected for his job because, among other things, he had a decided gift for communicating with people: those who worked for him and those in the community whom he served. When the retirement of Chief Addis had opened up the top spot a few months previously, there had been several outstanding candidates from within the Pasadena Police Department. He had been picked because at that time there had been a slowly growing antagonism between the police authorities and the more militant elements of many different ethnic and social groups. The city management had looked carefully for the best man available to deal with that situation; Bob McGowan had been their choice and he had given them no cause to regret it.
His reverie was interrupted when his phone rang once
briefly. "Mr. Tibbs is back from court," his secretary told him. "You asked to be notified."
McGowan swung around and assumed a more businesslike posture. "Thank you. Pass the word that I'd like to see him in ten minutes. Meanwhile get Mr. Dufl^y on the phone for me; you can reach him at the number I gave you this morning."