Tai-Pan (29 page)

Struan was standing by the diamond-shaped windows in the main cabin, looking at the island. The barren mountains fell steeply into the sea around the bay, their peaks cloud-shrouded. There was a small sand beach at the bay’s apex and then the land climbed quickly once more to the clouds, rugged and lonely. Sea gulls cawed. Waves lapped the hull of the ship sweetly and the ship’s bell sounded six times.

“Aye?” Struan said in answer to a knock.

“Cutter’s returned,” Captain Orlov said wearily. He was a vast-shouldered hunchback, barely five feet tall with massive arms and huge head. A fighting iron was thonged to his wrist. Since the bullion had come aboard he had worn the fighting iron night and day and had even slept with it. “By the beard of Odin, our cargo’s worse’n the black plague.”

“More trouble?”

“Trouble, you say? Never on a ship o’ mine, by Jesus Christ’s mother’s head!” The tiny, misshapen man cackled with malevolent glee. “Least not while I’m awake, eh, Green Eyes?”

Struan had found Orlov wandering the docks of Glasgow many years ago. He was a Norseman who had been shipwrecked in the dangerous Orkneys and could not find a new ship. Though seamen knew no nationality, no owner would trust a ship to so strange a man who would call no one “sir” or “mister,” who would serve only as captain—nothing less.

“I’m best in world,” Orlov would shout, his mottled, beak-nosed face shaking with fury. “I’ve served my time before the mast—never again! Test me, and I’ll prove it, by the blood of Thor!”

Struan had tested Orlov’s knowledge of sea and wind, and tested his strength and courage, and had found nothing wanting. Orlov could speak English, French, Russian, Finnish and Norwegian. His mind was brilliant and his memory astonishing. And though he looked like a goblin and could kill like a shark if need be, he was fair, and completely trustworthy. Struan had given him a small ship and then a bigger one. Then a clipper. Last year he had made him captain of 
China Cloud
 and he knew that Orlov was everything he claimed.

Struan poured more tea, hot and sweet and spiced with rum. “As soon as Mr. Robb and Culum are aboard, make course for Hong Kong harbor.”

“Sooner the better, eh?”

“Where’s Wolfgang?”

“In his cabin. Do you want him?”

“Nay. And see that we’re na disturbed.”

Orlov shifted his damp sea clothes irritably as he left. “Sooner we get rid of this plague-besotted cargo the better. Terriblest I’ve ever had.”

Struan did not reply. He was exhausted but his brain was alert. Almost home, he told himself. A few more hours and you’ll be safe in harbor. Thank God for the Royal Navy. Alongside one of the frigates you can rest.

The main cabin was luxurious and spacious. But now it was cluttered with muskets and knives and fighting irons and swords and cutlasses. He had disarmed all his crew before bringing the bullion aboard. Now only he and Captain Orlov carried weapons. Struan could feel the violent tension that pervaded the ship. The bullion had infected everyone. Aye, he thought, it’ll leave no man untouched. Even Robb. Even Culum. Maybe even Orlov.

On the voyage from the Marble Pagoda Ah Gip had sunk into a coma and had died. Struan had wanted to bury her at sea, but May-may had asked him not to.

“Ah Gip was a faithful slave,” she had said. “It would be bad joss na to return her to her parents and bury her as a Chinese, oh, absolutely very bad terrifical, Tai-Pan.”

So Struan had changed course and gone to Macao. There, with Mauss’s help, he had bought Ah Gip a fine coffin and had given it to her parents. He had also given them ten taels of silver for her funeral. Her parents were Hoklo boat people, and they had thanked him and had pressed him to take Ah Gip’s younger sister, Ah Sam, in her place. Ah Sam was fifteen, a merry, round-faced girl, who could also speak pidgin and, most unusual for a Hoklo, had bound feet. May-may had known Ah Sam and approved of her, so Struan had agreed. The parents had asked three hundred taels of silver for Ah Sam. Struan would have given them the money but May-may had said that he and she would lose great face if they paid the first price asked. So she had bargained with the parents and knocked down the price to one hundred and sixteen taels.

Struan had gone through the formality of buying the girl because it was customary. But then, when the sale was complete and he, according to Chinese law, owned a slave, he had torn up the document in front of Ah Sam and had told her that she was not a slave but a servant. Ah Sam had not understood. Struan knew that later she would ask May-may why he had torn up the paper and May-may would say that some of the ways of the barbarian were strange. Ah Sam would agree with her and her fear of him would increase.

While 
China Cloud
 was at Macao, Struan had confined his crew aboard—except Wolfgang Mauss. He was afraid that word of the bullion would leak out, and though he ordinarily trusted his crew he did not trust them when there was so much wealth ready just for the taking. He expected to be pirated either from within or from without. At Macao there had almost been a mutiny, and for the first time he and his officers had had to use the lash indiscriminately and put guards on the quarterdeck and anchor far out in the shallow harbor. All sampans had been forbidden to come within a hundred yards of 
China Cloud.

He had sent his first mate, Cudahy, ahead to Hong Kong in the cutter to fetch Robb and Culum to the secret rendezvous at Deepwater Bay with strict instructions to say nothing about the bullion. He had known that this was an added danger, but he knew he had to take the risk. With the bullion safe in 
China Cloud
 he had had time to think about Jin-qua and about The Noble House and Robb and Culum and what to do about the future. He knew that now it was time to set the future pattern of the company. With or without Robb and Culum. At all costs.

He had left May-may in Macao in the house that he had given her. Before he had sailed he and May-may had gone to the house of Chen Sheng.

Duncan, his three-year-old son, had begun to kowtow but he had lifted him up and told him that he must never do that again, to any man. Duncan had said, “Yes, Tai-Pan,” and had hugged him and May-may.

Kate, the baby, had been as cherished as Duncan, and Chen Sheng fussed like an old hen. Food and tea were brought, and then Chen Sheng had asked Struan’s permission to present Kai-sung, who wished to kowtow to the Tai-Pan.

Kai-sung was now thirty-six. She was dressed beautifully in robes of gold and crimson with jade and silver pins in her jet hair. It was almost as though the seventeen years had never been. Her face was like alabaster and her eyes as deep as in her youth.

But there were tears running down her cheeks and she whispered in Cantonese and May-may translated cheerfully. “Elder Sister’s so sorry your Tai-tai is deaded, Tai-Pan. Elder Sister says anytimes you want for the childrens to be here they are like hers. And she thanks you for being kind to her and her son.”

“Tell her she looks very pretty, and thank her.”

May-may did so and then wept a little with Kai-sung and then they were happy. Kai-sung kowtowed again and departed.

Chen Sheng had drawn Struan aside. “Hear maybe you good joss have got, Tai-Pan.” His huge face was a total smile.

“Maybe.”

“I buy mens build Hong Kong werry cheep ’gainst good joss!” Chen Sheng held his vast stomach and roared with laughter. “Heya, Tai-Pan! Have wirgin slave. You want? I buy you, heya? Cheep-cheep.”

“Ayee yah, wirgin! Troubles ’nuff hav got!”

Struan and May-may had taken their children and they went back to their home. The money May-may had lost to him was more than the value of the house. She formally gave him the deed of the house with great ceremony and simultaneously offered him a pack of cards. “Double or nothings, Tai-Pan, on debts.”

He had picked a jack and she had wailed and torn her hair. “Woe, woe, woe! I am for a lump of dogmeat-whore-strumpet! I wat for open my oily mouth?”

In utter agony she had closed her eyes and picked a card and cringed and half opened her eyes. It was a queen and she shrieked with happiness and flung herself into his arms.

He had arranged with May-may that he would come back quickly from Hong Kong or send 
China Cloud
 for her, and then he had sailed for Deepwater Bay.

The cabin door opened.

“Hello, Father,” Culum said.

“Hello, Dirk,” Robb said.

“Welcome aboard. Did you have a good voyage?”

“Good enough.” Robb dropped into a chair. There were dark rings under his eyes.

“You look exhausted, Robb.”

“I am. I’ve tried everything, everything.” He eased out of his heavy, steaming topcoat. “No one’ll give us credit. We’re lost. What good news could you bring, Dirk?” He felt in the pocket of his reefer jacket and pulled out a letter. “Afraid I don’t bring good tidings either. This came for you in yesterday’s mail packet. From Father.”

All of Struan’s excitement and happiness at what he had achieved, disappeared. Winifred, he thought, it’s got to be about her. He took the letter. The seal was intact. He recognized his father’s spidery writing. “What’s the news from home?” he said, trying to level his voice.

“That’s all that came, Dirk. I got nothing. Sorry. How is it with you? What’s the matter with your face? Have you burned it? Sorry I’ve been so little help.”

Struan put the letter on the desk. “Did you buy the land?”

“No. The land sale’s been postponed.” Robb tried to keep his eyes off the letter.

“It’s tomorrow, Father. There wasn’t enough time to get the lots surveyed. So it was postponed.” Culum lurched unsteadily as the ship heeled under a press of canvas. He steadied himself against the desk. “Shall I open the letter for you?”

“Nay, thanks. Have you seen Brock?”

“The 
White Witch
 came back from Whampoa two days ago,” Robb said. “Haven’t seen him myself. We’re really at war again?”

“Aye,” Struan said. “Is the fleet still at Hong Kong?”

“Yes. But when Eliksen came with the news, it deployed into war positions. Patrols were sent to guard the east and west entrances. Will they attack Hong Kong?”

“Dinna be ridiculous, Robbie.”

Robb watched the wake of the ship. Dirk looks different, he thought. Then he noticed the clutter of the cabin. “Why are there so many weapons here, Dirk? What’s amiss?”

“What’s Longstaff been up to, Culum?” Struan asked.

“I don’t know,” Culum said. “I’ve only seen him but once, and that was to get his approval for the postponement.”

“I haven’t seen him either, Dirk. After the piece about us in the paper I’ve had great difficulty in seeing a lot of people. Especially Longstaff.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“I saw him the next day. He said, ‘ ’Pon me word, is it true?’ and when I told him ‘Yes’ he took a pinch of snuff and said, ‘Pity. Well, I’m very busy, Robb. Good day,’ and took another glass of port.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, Dirk. I suppose I expected sympathy. Or some help.”

“Longstaff did na sack Culum. That’s in his favor.”

“He wanted me back only because there’s no one else at the moment to do this for him,” Culum said. He had started to fill out in the last two weeks and was losing his plague pallor. “I think he enjoys the fact that we’re broken. At least,” Culum added quickly, “I’m unimportant. I mean that The Noble House is broken.”

“If it’s na us, it’s another company, Culum.”

“Yes, I know, Father. What I meant was . . . well, I think you were very special with Longstaff. He kowtowed to your knowledge because of your wealth. But without wealth you’ve no breeding. Without breeding you cannot be equal. Without equality you can’t have knowledge. None. I think that’s rather sad.”

“Where’d you learn ‘kowtow’?”

“Wait till you see Hong Kong.”

“What does that mean, lad?”

“We’ll be there in a few hours. You can see for yourself.” Then Culum’s voice sharpened. “Please open the letter, Father.”

“The news’ll keep. Winifred was failing when you left. Do you expect a miracle?”

“I hope for one, yes. I’ve prayed for one, yes.”

“Come below,” Struan said.

The neat stacks of silver bricks glinted eerily under the swaying lantern in the hold. The air was close and the sick-sweet smell of raw opium permeated it. Cockroaches swarmed.

“It’s impossible,” Robb whispered, touching the bullion.

“I didn’t know there was this much silver in one place on earth,” Culum said, as stunned.

“It’s here, right enough,” Struan said.

Robb picked up one of the bricks to reassure himself, his hand trembling. “Unbelievable.”

Struan told them how he obtained the bullion. He related all that Jin-qua had said, except about the chop and about the four half coins and about the five lacs to be put into Hong Kong land, and the five lacs to be kept safe and the one lac to Gordon Chen. He described the sea battle with Brock. But he made no mention of May-may.

“That bloody pirate!” Culum stormed. “Longstaff will have Brock and Gorth hanged when he hears about it.”

“Why?” Struan asked. “Brock did nae more than I’ve done. He simply happened to collide with me.”

“But that’s a lie. You can prove that he—”

“I can and will prove nothing. Brock tried and failed, that’s all. It’s our business, no one else’s.”

“I don’t like that,” Culum said. “That’s not a lawful way of looking at a deliberate piracy.”

“There’ll be a reckoning. In my own time.”

“God help us, we’re saved,” Robb said, his voice weak. “Now all the international money plans will go through. We’ll be the richest company in the Orient. Bless you, Dirk. You’re incredible.” Now the future’s assured, Robb inwardly exulted. Now there’ll be enough for even Sarah’s extravagant tastes. Now I can go home immediately. Perhaps Dirk will change his mind and never leave, will never go home, will forget Parliament. No more worries. Now I can buy a castle and live like a laird in peace. The children will marry and live well and there’ll be enough for their children’s children. Roddy can finish university and go into banking and never worry about the Orient. “Bless you, Dirk!”