Noble House

Hastily Havergill interrupted and overrode him. "Richard, perhaps I'd better finish the formal announcement and leave the details to our press conference." He glanced at Martin Haply. "We have scheduled a formal press conference for Monday at noon but all details of the, er, merger have been agreed. Isn't that so, Richard?"
Richard Kwang began to make another variation but quickly changed his mind, seeing both Dunross's and Havergill's look. "Er, yes, yes," he said but could not resist adding, "I'm delighted to be partners with the Victoria."
Haply called out quickly, "Excuse me, Mr. Havergill, may I ask a question?"
"Of course," Havergill said affably, well aware of what he would be asked. This bastard Haply has to go, he thought, one way or another.
"May I ask, Mr. Havergill, how you propose to pay out all the Ho-Pak customers and yours, Blacs and all the other banks when there's a run on all of them and not enough cash in the till?"
"Rumors, rumors, Mr. Haply," Havergill replied airily and added to laughter, "Remember: A swarm of mosquitoes can create a noise like thunder! Hong Kong's economy has never been stronger. As to the so-called run on the Ho-Pak, that's over. The Victoria guarantees the Ho-Pak's depositors, guarantees the Struan-General Stores takeover and guarantees to be in business for the next hundred and twenty years."
"But Mr. Havergill, would you ans—"
"Not to worry, Mr. Haply. Let's leave the details of our … our benevolent umbrella for the Ho-Pak till our press conference on Monday." At once he turned to the governor. "If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll make it public." There were more cheers as he started through the crush toward the door.
Someone began singing, "For he's a jolly good fellow …" Everyone joined in. The noise became deafening. Dunross said to Richard
Kwang in Cantonese, quoting an old expression, " 'When it is enough, stop.' Heya?"
"Ah, ah yes. Yes, tai-pan. Yes indeed." The banker smiled a sickly smile, understanding the threat, reminding himself of his good fortune, that Venus Poon would certainly kowtow now that he was an important director on the board of the Victoria. His smile broadened. "You're right, tai-pan. 'Inside the red doors there is much waste of meat and wine!' My expertise will greatly benefit our bank, heya?" He went off importantly.
"My God, what a day!" Johnjohn muttered.
"Yes, yes, marvelous! Johnjohn, old fellow," McBride said, "you must be very proud of Paul."
"Yes, of course." Johnjohn was watching Havergill leave.
"Are you feeling all right?"
"Oh yes, I was just working late." Johnjohn had been up most of the night estimating how they could safely effect the takeover, safely for the bank and for the Ho-Pak depositors. He had been the architect and this morning he had spent more wearisome hours trying to convince Havergill that now was the time to be innovative. "We can do it, Paul, and create such a resurgence of confid—"
"And a very dangerous precedent! I don't think your idea's as important as you imagine!"
It was only when Havergill had seen the enormous and immediate gain in confidence after Dunross's dramatic announcement that he had reconsidered. Never mind, Johnjohn thought wearily, we're all gainers. The bank, Hong Kong, the Ho-Pak. Certainly we'll do very well for their investors, stockholders and backers, far better than Richard! When I'm tai-pan I'll use the Ho-Pak as a pattern for future bail-outs. With our new management the Ho-Pak will be a marvelous asset. Like any one of a dozen enterprises. Even like Struan's!
Johnjohn's tiredness vanished. His smile broadened. Oh hurry up, Monday—when the market opens!
In the Struan box Peter Marlowe was gloomily leaning on the rail, watching the crowds below. Rain cascaded off the jutting overhang protecting the boxes. The three cantilever balconies of the members and nonvoting members were not so protected. Bedraggled horses were being led down the ramps, bedraggled grooms joining the bedraggled thousands streaming away.
"What's up, Peter?" Casey asked.
"Oh nothing."
"Not Fleur, no problem there I hope?"
"No."
"Was it Grey? I saw you both having at it."
"No, no it wasn't Grey, though he's a pain, ill-mannered and stridently anti-everything of value." Marlowe smiled curiously. "We were just discussing the weather."
"Sure. You were looking depressed as hell just then. You lost the fifth?"
"Yes, but it wasn't that. I'm ahead, well ahead on the day." The tall man hesitated then motioned at the boxes and all around. "It's just that I was thinking that there're fifty thousand-odd Chinese here and another three or four million out there, and each one's got a vast heritage, marvelous secrets, and fantastic stories to tell, to say nothing of the twenty-odd thousand Europeans, high and low, the tai-pans, the pirates, freebooters, accountants, shopkeepers, government people here— why did they choose Hong Kong too? And I know that however much I try, however much I read or listen or ask, I'll never really know very much about Hong Kong Chinese or about Hong Kong. Never. I'll only ever scratch the surface."
She laughed. "It's the same everywhere."
"Oh no, no it isn't. This's the potpourri of Asia. Take that guy —the one in the third box over—the rotund Chinese. He's a millionaire many times over. His wife's a kleptomaniac so whenever she goes out he has his people follow her secretly and every time she steals something, his fellows pay for it. All the stores know her and him and it's all very civilized—where else in the world would you do that? His father was a coolie and his father a highwayman and his a Mandarin and his a peasant. One of the men near him's another multimillionaire, opium and illegal stuff into China, and his wife's … ah well, that's another story." "What story?"
He laughed. "Some wives have stories just as fascinating as their husbands, sometimes more so. One of the wives you met today, she's a nympho an—"
"Oh come on, Peter! It's like Fleur says, you're making it all up." "Perhaps. Oh yes, but some Chinese ladies are just as … just as predatory as any ladies on earth, on the quiet." "Chauvinist! You're sure?"
"Rumor has it. . ." They laughed together. "Actually they're so much smarter than we are, the Chinese. I'm told the few Chinese married ladies here who have a wandering eye usually prefer a European for a lover, for safety—Chinese adore gossip, love scandal, and it'd be rare to find a Chinese swinger who'd be able to keep such a secret or protect a lady's honor. Rightly, the lady would be afraid. To be caught would be very bad, very bad indeed. Chinese law's quite strict." He took out a cigarette. "Maybe that makes it all the more exciting."
"To have a lover?"
He watched her, pondering what she would say if he told her her nickname—whispered gleefully to him by four separate Chinese friends. "Oh yes, ladies here get around, some of them. Look over there, in that box—the fellow holding forth wearing a blazer. He wears a green hat—that's a Chinese expression meaning he's a cuckold, that his wife's got a lover, actually in her case it was a Chinese friend of his."
"Green hat?"
"Yes. Chinese are marvelous! They have such a terrific sense of humor. That fellow took out an ad in one of the Chinese papers some months ago that said, 'I know I wear a green hat but the wife of the man who gave it to me had two of his sons by other men!' "
Casey stared at him. "You mean he signed his name to it?"
"Oh yes. It was a pun on one of his names, but everyone of importance knew who it was."
"Was it true?"
Peter Marlowe shrugged. "It doesn't matter. The other fellow's nose was neatly out of joint and his wife got hell."