“Tony!” Tamara gasped.
He walked into the room, his head wrapped in bandages.
“Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall,” he said apologetically. “The rope that we used to climb the city wall snapped. I was lucky; Klim and a British lieutenant dragged me to the lifeboats. Otherwise, I’d never have made it.”
“It’s alright,” Tamara sobbed. “We’ll fix Humpty Dumpty.”
Daniel went to see Don Fernando at the radio station to pick up his latest counterfeit passport. This one was in the name of a bogus Austrian businessman.
The Don was in his office listening to Klim Rogov, who was on the air talking about the massacre in Nanking.
“I’m sorry, but today is my last day here at the radio station,” Klim said. “I have to go to Peking on personal business.”
“What?” roared Don Fernando. “And who is going to present your show?”
Completely forgetting his guest, the Don ran out of the door, and a minute later Daniel heard a blazing row in the corridor.
“Are you crazy?” Fernando yelled at Klim. “Why are you going to Peking? To save your wife? She dumped you, and you’re still ready to chase her to the ends of the earth like a damn fool?”
Daniel’s heart skipped a bit. Was Nina in Peking?
He went into the corridor and saw Klim and Fernando, standing next to a brightly lit window.
“I’ve found out,” said Klim, “that the Dogmeat General sold Fanya Borodin and other prisoners to the Peking warlord Zhang Zuolin. The northern border regions are plagued with infiltrators from the Soviet Union, and he’s decided to arrange a show trial of prominent Bolsheviks to intimidate them.”
“The sentence of the court has already been prearranged, don’t you see?” said Fernando. “Zhang will simply execute his captives. How are you going to change that?”
“Don’t even try to dissuade me,” said Klim.
Daniel stared at him with an intense hatred.
“Nina needs help at the highest diplomatic level,” he said walking up to Don Fernando and Klim. “I have contacts in the Peking Legation Quarter, and I’ll do my best to get her out.”
“Nina would never have been in this mess if it wasn’t for you,” Klim began in an icy voice.
“And who made her so miserable that she wanted to run away to Wuhan in the first place?”
Don Fernando stepped in between them. “If I were you, gentlemen, I’d concentrate on getting her out of prison first. Otherwise, the executioner will divide her up between the two of you. One of you will get the head, and the other the rest of her body.”
In an instant, Daniel had taken stock of the situation. I’ll be needing someone who speaks Russian and who’s prepared to take risks, he thought. Why not Klim Rogov?
“Fernando is right,” Daniel said in a conciliatory tone. “Let’s join forces and go to the capital together.”
He offered his hand. Klim paused and then reluctantly shook it.
“Do you really think you’re going to save her? Really?” Don Fernando started, but then waved his hand in a gesture of futility. “O, Holy Virgin, please, just grant me that they don’t kill each other before they get there. I’m not asking for you to make them see sense—I know that even your powers only have certain limits.”
At four in the morning, the navy ships’ sirens wailed, and army trucks raced through the International Settlement, full of armed soldiers. Edna jumped from her bed and peeked through her bedroom window.
“Who are they?” her amah asked in a terrified voice. “Who are they going to kill?”
The trucks disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. Soon, shooting could be heard breaking out in the northern outskirts.
The newsboy didn’t bring the morning papers, the phone was disconnected, and Edna waited in vain for her driver until noon.
“I’ll walk to the Daily News office and see what’s going on,” she announced to her servants. “Who wants to come with me?”
All of them looked down, avoiding her intense gaze.
“You shouldn’t go,” said Yun. “It’s raining cats and dogs, and there’s shooting going on out there in the streets.”
“Do as you wish, but I’m going,” Edna said angrily, grabbing her umbrella and stepping out into the pouring rain.
As soon as she got out of the gate she saw Binbin, her coat unbuttoned and her lank wet hair hanging along her pale cheeks.
“The Green Gang killed all the Red Guards last night,” Binbin sobbed. “The gangsters were able to drive through the concessions, past all the checkpoints. That means only one thing: the ‘white ghosts’ and Chiang Kai-shek planned the massacre in advance.”
“That can’t be true,” Edna said in shock.
“The bodies were taken away in trucks,” Binbin said. “I saw it myself. This morning, people came out onto the streets to protest in front of the NRA headquarters. There were a few thousands of us, and the soldiers began to shoot at us with machine guns.”
Only now did Edna notice that Binbin’s coat was spattered with tiny spots of blood.
Her umbrella dropped from her hands and was immediately whisked up by the wind into the rainy mist.
“Why did you go to this meeting?” Edna said, hugging her friend. “They could have killed you.”
“I couldn’t stay at home. We have been waiting for our army. We were hoping that Chiang Kai-shek would restore peace and justice—but he has conspired with the bandits and ‘white ghosts’ against us.”
“Come to my house,” said Edna. “Yun will take care of you, and I’ll go to the Daily News office. I have to inform the world about what has happened.”
Edna didn’t recall how she got to the offices of the Daily News in the Bund. The elevator had just reached the ground floor, and Mr. Green came out into the lobby, dressed in a checkered coat and cap.
“Mrs. Bernard! Glad you’re back—” he began, but cut himself off, alarmed. “What’s the matter with you?”
“There has been a conspiracy between Chiang Kai-shek and Big-Eared Du’s gangsters,” Edna exclaimed breathlessly. “There was a massacre in the Chinese City—”
“Yes, I know,” Mr. Green nodded. “I hope the communists will learn from their lesson.”
Edna was stupefied. “Are you not going to publish anything about it?”
“We have already sent the special edition to the printing house. Chiang Kai-shek is a noble, resolute, and far-sighted politician who has saved our city from the horrors of Bolshevism.”
“What are you talking about? Does killing without a trial sound ‘noble’ to you?”
Mr. Green looked at Edna strangely. “I thought you were good at politics.”
Without a word, she went out into the Bund and stopped.
I have to go to the radio station to Klim, she decided. It doesn’t matter what’s been between us in the past. He has to listen to me and publicize the massacre on air.
The streets were now completely flooded, and Edna was up to her ankles in water, oblivious to the spray flying up from the passing cars.
When she reached the radio station building, Edna noticed a girl in a raincoat sitting on the steps by the entrance.
“Miss Marshall?” Edna called in amazement.
Ada looked up at her, misty-eyed. “My name is Messalina. I’m a prostitute at the Havana.”
Edna grabbed her by the shoulders. “What are you talking about?”
“My fiancé has been killed, and Klim has left Shanghai.”
Ada stood up and staggered away, her head hunched between her shoulders.
Edna watched her retreating back, and in horror realized that it had been she who had kicked Ada out onto the street. In the heat of her anger and shame, she had never even given a second thought to the consequences. It was obvious—how else would a girl like Ada be able to provide for herself? Edna, the great crusader against prostitution, had shoved the poor girl into the brothel with her own hands.