Noble House

"I already have. It's too much of a coincidence that guns should be on Bartlett's plane."
"It could be highly embarrassing if we're found to be connected with it in any way."
"Yes."
He saw Claudia waiting patiently. "Ask Armstrong to give me ten minutes. Bring them up then."
She dealt with that, then said, "If Superintendent Kwok's been brought in so soon, it must be more serious than we thought, heya, tai-pan?"
"Special Branch or Special Intelligence has to be involved at once. I'll bet the FBI and CIA have already been contacted. Brian Kwok's logical because he's an old mate of Armstrong's—and one of the best they've got."
"Yes," Claudia agreed proudly. "Eeeee what a lovely husband he'd make for someone."
"Provided she's a Chen—all that extra power, heya?" It was common knowledge that Brian Kwok was being groomed to be the first Chinese assistant commissioner.
"Of course such power has to be kept in the family." The phone rang. She answered it. "Yes, I'll tell him, thank you." She replaced the phone huffily. "The governor's equerry—he called to remind you about cocktails at 6:00 P.M.—huh, as if I'd forget!"
Dunross picked up one of the phones and dialed.
'Weyyyy?" came the coarse voice of the amah, the Chinese servant. Hello?
"Chen tai-tai," he said into the phone, his Cantonese perfect. "Mrs. Chen please, this is Mr. Dunross."
He waited. "Ah, Barbara, good morning."
"Oh hello, Ian. Have you heard from John yet? Sorry to bother you," she said.
"No bother. No, not yet. But the moment I do I'll get him to call you. He might have gone down to the track early to watch Golden Lady work out. Have you tried the Turf Club?"
"Yes, but they don't remember him breakfasting there, and the workout's between 5:00 and 6:00. Damn him! He's so inconsiderate. Ayeeyah, men!"
"He's probably out on his boat. He's got nothing here until lunch and it's a great day for a sail. You know how he is—have you checked the mooring?"
"I can't, Ian, not without going there, there's no phone. I have a hairdressing appointment which I simply can't break—all Hong Kong will be at your party tonight—I simply can't go rushing off to Aberdeen."
"Send one of your chauffeurs," Dunross said dryly.
"Tang's off today and I need Wu-chat to drive me around, Ian. I simply can't send him over to Aberdeen—that could take an hour and I've a mah-jong game from two till four."
"I'll get John to call you. It'll be around lunch."
"I won't be back till five at the earliest. When I catch up with him he's going to get what for never mind. Oh well, thanks, sorry to bother you. 'Bye."
'"Bye." Dunross put the phone down and sighed. "I feel like a bloody nursemaid."
"Talk to John's father, tai-pan," Claudia Chen said.
"I have. Once. And that's enough. It's not all John's fault. That lady's enough to drive anyone bonkers." He grinned. "But I agree her temperature's gone to the moon—this time it's going to cost John an emerald ring or at least a mink coat."
The phone rang again. Claudia picked it up. "Hello, the tai-pan's office! Yes? Oh!" Her happiness vanished and she hardened. "Just a moment, please." She punched the hold button. "It's a person to person from Hiro Toda in Yokohama."
Dunross knew how she felt about him, knew she hated the Japanese and loathed the Noble House's connection with them. He could never forgive the Japanese either for what they had done to Asia during the war. To those they had conquered. To the defenseless. Men, women and children. The prison camps and unnecessary deaths. Soldier to soldier he had no quarrel with them. None. War was war.
His own war had been against the Germans. But Claudia's war had been here in Hong Kong. During the Japanese Occupation, because she was Eurasian, she had not been put into Stanley Prison with all European civilians. She and her sister and brother had tried to help the POWs with food and drugs and money, smuggling it into the camp. The Kampeitai, the Japanese military police, had caught her. Now she could have no children.
"Shall I say you're out?" she asked.
"No." Two years before Dunross had committed an enormous amount of capital to Toda Shipping Industries of Yokohama for two giant bulk ships to build up the Struan fleet that had been decimated in the war. He had chosen this Japanese shipyard because their product was the finest, their terms the best, they guaranteed delivery and all the things the British shipyards would not, and because he knew it was time to forget. "Hello, Hiro," he said, liking the man personally. "Nice to hear from you. How's Japan?"
"Please excuse me for interrupting you, tai-pan. Japan's fine though hot and humid. No change."
"How're my ships coming along?"
"Perfectly, tai-pan. Everything is as we arranged. I just wanted to advise you that I will be coming to Hong Kong on Saturday morning for a business trip. I will be staying for the weekend, then on to Singapore and Sydney, back in time for our closing in Hong Kong. You'll still be coming to Yokohama for both launchings?"
"Oh yes. Yes, absolutely. What time do you arrive Saturday?"
"At 11:10, Japan Air Lines."
"I'll send a car to meet you. What about coming directly to Happy Valley to the races? You could join us for lunch, then my car will take you to the hotel. You're staying at the Victoria and Albert?"
"This time at the Hilton, Hong Kong side. Tai-pan, please excuse me, I do not wish to put you to any trouble, so sorry."
"It's nothing. I'll have one of my people meet you. Probably Andrew Gavallan."
"Ah, very good. Then thank you, tai-pan. I look forward to seeing you, so sorry to inconvenience you."
Dunross put the phone down. I wonder why he called, the real reason? he asked himself. Hiro Toda, managing director of the most go-ahead shipbuilding complex in Japan, never does anything suddenly or unpremeditated.
Dunross thought about the closing of their ship deal and the three payments of 2 million each that were due imminently on September 1, 11 and 15, the balance in ninety days. $12 million U.S. in all that he didn't have at the moment. Or the charterer's signed contract that was necessary to support the bank loan that he did not have, yet. "Never mind," he said easily, "everything's going to be fine."
"For them, yes," Claudia said. "You know I don't trust them, tai-pan. Any of them."
"You can't fault them, Claudia. They're only trying to do economically what they failed to do militarily."
"By pricing everyone out of the world markets."
"They're working hard, they're making profits and they'll bury us, if we let them." His eyes hardened too. "But after all, Claudia, scratch an Englishman—or a Scot—and find a pirate. If we're such bloody fools to allow it we deserve to go under—isn't that what Hong Kong's all about?"
"Why help the enemy?"
"They were the enemy," he said kindly. "But that was only for twenty-odd years and our connections there go back a hundred. Weren't we the first traders into Japan? Didn't Hag Struan buy us the first plot offered for sale in Yokohama in 1860? Didn't she order that it be a cornerstone of Struan's policy to have the China-Japan-Hong Kong triangle?"
"Yes, tai-pan, but don't you thi—"
"No, Claudia, we've dealt with the Todas, the Kasigis, the Toranagas for a hundred years, and right now Toda Shipping's very important to us."
The phone rang again. She answered it. "Yes, I'll phone him back." Then to Dunross. "It's the caterers—about your party tonight."
"What's the problem?"
"None, tai-pan—they're moaning. After all, it's the tai-pan's twentieth wedding anniversary. All Hong Kong will be there and all Hong Kong better be impressed." Again the phone rang. She picked it up. "Ahh good! Put him through…. It's Bill Foster from Sydney."