The Nicholas Linnear Novels (129 page)

“Now you are beginning to understand what it is like to fence in the international arena. In order to survive you must export capital and technology, building new Nissan plants in Tennessee instead of in Kanda. That means less Japanese employment; less profits. Your era of free trade has ended.”

Despite the truth in what Liu was saying Nangi detected a strong streak of jealousy in the other man’s words. Wouldn’t the Chinese love to be in our economic position, he thought dryly.

“And then there is Yawata,” Liu continued. He was referring to Japan’s magnificent Yawata Steel Works, the oldest and largest of the country’s coastal mills, which began manufacturing in 1901. “Curious, I think. It is an historic relic of other times yet since 1973 your government has shoveled more than three billion dollars into updating and refining Yawata’s technology. And what has it availed them? Today Yawata is in far worse shape than it was after the oil shock of 1973. At least then the government could take economizing measures, streamlining operations, severely rationing fuel consumption. All those steps allowed Yawata’s operations to continue unabated.

“But today those measures are still in effect, and because the worldwide market has shrunk so significantly, Yawata’s work force has dropped from sixty-one thousand in 1969 to less than twenty-four thousand today. Three of Nippon Steel’s blast furnaces are currently idle and a number of their subsidiary plants have closed down.

“The American steel industry would, I think, be delighted to return to the seventy percent capacity Yawata is currently running at. But Japan is simply not geared for such reductions. And what can you do? In America Bethlehem can lay off their workers; in your country your political and social structure does not allow you to fire your employees.”

Liu paused here as if he expected Nangi to make some kind of comment. When he did not, Liu seemed slightly put out and his tone when he spoke again was rather more sharp. “The end result of this little talk,” he said crisply, “is that your
keiretsu
, like most others, is currently going through an organizational upheaval. And that, as we both know, takes capital. With cash flow weakened you have been dipping rather heavily into your reserves.”

“We are quite solid.”

“Solid perhaps.” Liu shrugged. “But I am doubtful that you have enough reserves now to save the All-Asia Bank.”

If he is going to offer me aid from the other side I shall have to strike him across his head with my stick, Nangi thought.

“What do the Communists want with the All-Asia Bank?”

“Oh, we don’t want any part of it,” Liu said conversationally. “Rather, we wish a piece of your
keiretsu.
”

Nangi, despite having extended all his feelers for clues, was thunderstruck.

“Oh, we’re willing to pay a high premium for the privilege,” Liu said into the silence, privately hating the necessity for observing the niceties of conversation among equals just as if he were not face to face with a barbarian. “An
extremely
high premium. It is clear that the
keiretsu
needs to be underwritten; we will provide the new infusion of capital.”

“I’m not interested,” Nangi said, almost strangling on his hatred for this man and all he stood for.

“Please be kind enough to allow me to complete my offer before hastily setting it aside,” Liu forced his lips into the configuration of a smile. Well, he thought, what can you expect from the Japanese. They do not have our long centuries of breeding; they merely appropriated from our culture that which they required in order to raise themselves up from the level of the slavering beast. But, oh, Buddha, they have not come far!

“Our offer is this,” he said. “You relinquish to us one-third interest in your
keiretsu
and we will deliver to you, divided into six semi-yearly payments, the sum of five hundred million dollars.”

At first Nangi was not at all certain that he had heard correctly. But, staring into that long Manchu face, he had no doubts. Five hundred million dollars! His mind immediately embraced all the things made possible by such an incredible infusion of capital. My God, he thought wildly, we could leap to the top if we are careful and courageous and, yes, just a bit lucky.

This was much more money than he could ever hope to get out of Tomkin Industries should their merger go through. It was more capital than he could hope to get from any other source. He was absolutely certain Liu knew this. Too, only the Chinese could come up with enough ready capital to see the All-Asia through the immediate crisis of the bank run. That above all else must be his primary concern. If the All-Asia went he knew the entire
keiretsu
would soon follow.
Tenchi
had put him in a delicate and severely undercapitalized position. Anthony Chin’s treachery might be the final straw that broke the whole business empire apart. For that Nangi would curse him and all his progeny to the end of his days.

But Nangi had to ask himself what the Chinese really wanted out of this deal. They did not easily part with such tremendous amounts of money. Profits, yes. But they could get profits in a number of different areas and with a much smaller outlay. Nangi’s mind raced to find the answer to a question he knew Liu would never willingly provide him with. But there were other answers which the Chinese would have to give him and perhaps if he asked the right questions Liu would give him the solution without knowing it.

“Tell me, Mr. Liu,” he said now, “what do your people propose to do with your one-third interest?”

“Do?” he said, shifting in his chaise. “I do not follow you.”

The young Chinese girl had been joined by another and Nangi was hard put to discern which one was wearing the skimpier suit. A wicker basket now sat between them, a treasure chest on the sand from which one took a bottle of wine, pouring them both half tumblers of the pale gold liquid. As they lay back on their blankets he could see the soft, succulent swells of their breasts.

“It’s quite simple,” Nangi said without taking his eyes off the girls; they were a good deal more pleasant to look at than the man reclining beside him. “Before I even consider allowing an outside, er, firm access to the
keiretsu
—no matter the price—I need to know what it intends to do with its investment.”

“Why, make money, of course,” Liu said. “What other possible reason could we have?”

Nangi smiled thinly as he spread his hands. “You may be able to understand my caution. I have had little contact with members of…your firm.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Liu said a bit more amiably; he had begun to sense a thaw. “I would suspect your own motives if I did not detect your caution. This is, after all, not the sort of business deal one puts together every day. In some ways we are a very young country, Mr. Nangi. The world outside the Divine Kingdom is new to us. Very simply put, there are those currently in power in Peking who wish to probe the beginnings of an Oriental Alliance. They feel a business partnership—strictly business—is a sensible way in which to, er, get the ball rolling.”

As if on cue, the two Chinese girls were packing up their belongings. The sun seemed very hot even here in the protection of the veranda—while they talked all the ice had melted in the pitcher of tea—and the dazzle of the water was blinding, like strips of endless gold.

“Though this is an extraordinary opportunity,” Liu continued as he mopped his forehead with a handkerchief, “time is of the essence and once you leave China”—he shrugged—“I fear it will no longer obtain.”

“Surely you cannot expect me to make such a monumental judgment concerning my
keiretsu
in the blink of an eye?” Nangi said, turning his head toward Liu and away from the girls, who were busy brushing sand from their sleek, oiled thighs.

“On the contrary, Mr. Nangi,” Liu said, tapping a long-nailed finger against a portion of his silk suit directly over his heart, “I expect nothing. Rather it is you who must deal—and deal quickly—with the All-Asia’s unfortunate difficulties. Bank runs are like wildfire here, Mr. Nangi. Once the Chinese get something into their heads it is often an astoundingly short time before matters get out of control. The Royal Hong Kong Police are well aware of this peculiarity and thus seek to thwart congregating masses. A flame in and of itself is not a particularly dangerous element. But lit at a gas station, well…” Liu’s hands spread.

“So you may take all the time you wish, Mr. Nangi. Please do not feel any pressure from this quarter to come to a decision.” He reached into an inside pocket of his jacket. “However, in a friendly effort, to, er, provide you with some assistance, I have taken the liberty of having the papers drawn up.”

“I see.” Nangi thought about the implications of this for quite some time.

Liu could not quite keep the smug smile off his face. “Despite some curious Western depictions we run quite a well-oiled machine.”

“Yes,” Nangi said, hating this man with a much more detached passion now, “I can see that.”

“Oh, no, Mr. Nangi. You will pardon me for saying so, but you do not see it at all.” Liu paused as the two Chinese girls, coming in off the beach, wiped their sandy feet on the lowest step of the veranda. His deep avian eyes studied the face of one—the tall one who had been on the beach when Nangi had first arrived—as if his gaze could penetrate the shadows as well as the cascade of thick hair that fell across one shoulder. In a moment they were gone, stepping silently past the two men into the interior of the villa.

“We shall have dinner soon,” Liu said. “Local langoustes and garoupa, as well as braised sun bear paw, quite the delicacy here.” His attitude had altered somewhat at the approach of the women and Nangi struggled with that fleeting change, trying to divine its essence.

“But, back to the topic at hand,” Liu continued somewhat more briskly. “We are very well coordinated in Hong Kong; far better and more extensively than the British would dare consider.” His shoulders lifted and fell. “And why not? Hong Kong is our property, after all. The true Government of China has never recognized a treaty signed under duress, when a different age caused men to act dishonorably. We tolerate the British rule because it is useful to us. I would not deny how lucrative it is for us. That would be foolish.” Liu stood up abruptly. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and revealed a multipage document folded twice on itself. Carefully, he placed the document on the small table between them before continuing.

His eyes seemed to glow with an inner light. “The recent land boom is ours.” His head bobbed. “Yes, it is true, Mr. Nangi. The recent six-year real estate spiral was instigated by us. You see, we had planned all along to make our announcement repudiating the Crown Colony’s right to govern here. But first we had to bring home to them the true import of the situation within which they would one day find themselves.”

Liu was smiling now with an evil triumph. “Nowadays, you see, it is we who are the master. We say ‘Jump!’ and the Queen jumps. The whole world saw it. Her Majesty’s loss of face was enormous in hastening here and abasing herself at our feet in order to ensure her country’s continued interests in this quarter of the world.

“But that humiliation would not have been so great, Britain’s situation quite so dire without the illustration of how, with a few well-chosen words, we are able to shake the Western economy of this Colony, of how we are able to affect the finances of so many.”

Liu’s fingers were clasped behind his back. “Even you, Mr. Nangi, must admit that our latest five-year plan is a brilliant one; the only way to gain our goal: the eventual total control of the vast monetary flow in and out of Hong Kong.”

Nangi reached for the folded document and began to read it assiduously in order to calm himself. God in heaven, he thought. If the Crown’s authorities ever got wind of this they’d have a collective stroke at the very least. Surely the Colony’s chief of police and internal security would be given the ax. How could this kind of manipulation have gone on right under their noses? It must have been vast! Ah, Madonna, they’re all fools here! My own people were totally foxed. And I was convinced they were well informed. Why should the officials here be any different?

But debating unanswered questions was a waste of time and he quickly turned his mind to other matters. First and foremost, the contract. On initial reading it appeared to be hardnosed but essentially fair. There were no hidden strings, no floating clauses that Liu had not brought up.

Nangi raised his head for a moment, coming up for air. “I see here on page three that the first inflow of capital doesn’t commence until ninety days after the signing of this contract.”

Liu nodded, delighted they had gotten this far. “That is correct. There are a number of, er, realistic entanglements at gathering and transshipping that large an amount of money.”

“Gold.”

“If that is your wish. It will be handled via the Sun Wa Trading Company.”

“But surely your…ah…firm is of a sufficient size to begin payment on signing.”

Now Liu’s long face looked pained. His hands, coming around from behind his back, were like prehensile hooks. “Regrettably, accelerating the timetable of payments is impossible. My firm has a number of prior commitments that it must see to concluding first. There just isn’t enough capital for another ninety days or so.”

Nangi sat up, grasping the white jade dragon head of his walking stick. Now we come to the nub of it all, he thought. I must outmaneuver him here or not at all. “Mr. Liu, as you yourself have said, my situation vis-à-vis the All-Asia Bank is critical. If I am forced to wait three months for your money, I will lose that part of my
keiretsu.
That would not be in either of our interests.” And Nangi thought desperately, How I wish we were already one with the American company so that I could call down their capital. But he saw the impossibility of the situation. Even had Sato’s
kobun
merged with Sphynx he did not believe that the company could have provided enough money within the deadline period. Maddeningly, Liu was right. He had to stave off the run before it became a stampede. Otherwise no amount of infused capital would save the bank.