“China is far, far away, Mr. Barker. How do you know that I can guarantee its safe delivery?”
“You will do so by placing it in Blue Dragon Triad hands, aboard a direct Blue Funnel liner. That, along with suitable threats and inducements, should secure its safety. I assume your power extends to Canton, at least aboard ship.”
“I shall see that it is safely delivered.”
My employer then reached into his pocket and held out the book. “Be careful,” he said. “It bites.”
“So I understand,” K’ing replied, tucking it into his coat pocket. “The courier I assign will be careful and discreet.”
“Thank you.”
We all rose. Barker bowed, little more than an incline of his head. K’ing gave him one in return.
“I must apologize, Mr. Barker, for underestimating you. To think that Manchu Jack, by his very size, could best you. I had counted upon the fact that you had been long away from China and might be out of condition. Obviously, such was not the case.”
“Until we meet again, sir,” Barker said, and we went our separate ways.
Outside, Barker stopped, raised both arms over his head and stretched. The men and women streaming in and out avoided him like the other eccentrics that sometimes inhabit the museum.
“Ahh!” he exhaled. “I was never so glad to rid myself of anything in my life. May all hidden texts remain well and truly hidden and never cross my path again.”
“If all goes according to plan,” Barker said, “in a little over a month and a half, the Xi Jiang Monastery shall send word to the Forbidden City that the manuscript has been found misfiled. It never officially left the grounds.”
“And Jimmy Woo?”
“A former imperial eunuch who died in an accident. London’s dockyards can be a most dangerous place for Chinamen, as most of them know.”
“That all sounds very convenient,” I couldn’t help saying.
“Do you know what one does with a mystery in China, lad? One buries it in a foot of rubble, then two feet of soil, and one plants a public garden over it so that no one shall ever dig it up again. I think we’ve done enough for one day. Let us go home and have some tea.”
“I think I’ll have Darjeeling, sir,” I said, as Barker raised his stick for a cab. “I’m rather off the Chinese at the moment.”