jamesclavell.noblehouse-第71部分

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　me　for　a　foreign　devil　tourist　from　the　Golden　Mountain　…　me　who　is　clearly　a　Hong　Kong　person　who　has　lived　here　twenty　years？　Ayeeyah！　Yaumati　Ferry　on　the　other　side　of　Kowloon。　Do　you　need　directions？　Are　you　from　Outer　Mongolia？　Are　you　a　stranger；　eh？〃
　The　driver　sullenly　pulled　the　flag　down　and　sped　off；　heading　south　and　then　west。　The　man　in　the　back　of　the　car　watched　the　street　behind。　He　could　see　no　trailing　car　but　he　still　did　not　relax。
　They're　too　clever　here；　he　thought。　Be　cautious！
　At　Yaumati　Ferry　station　he　paid　off　the　taxi　and　gave　the　man　barely　the　correct　tip　then　went　into　the　crowds　and　slid　out　of　them　and　hailed　another　taxi。　〃Golden　Ferry。〃
　The　driver　nodded　sleepily；　yawned　and　headed　south。
　At　the　ferry　terminal　he　paid　off　the　driver　almost　before　he　had　stopped　and　joined　the　crowds　that　were　hurrying　for　the　turnstiles　of　the　Hong　Kong　ferries。　But　once　through　the　turnstiles　he　did　not　go　to　the　ferry　gate　but　instead　went　to　the　men's　room　and　then；　out　once　more；　he　opened　the　door　of　a　phone　booth　and　went　in。　Very　sure　now　that　he　had　not　been　followed　he　was　more　relaxed。
　He　put　in　a　coin　and　dialed。
　〃Yes？〃　a　man's　voice　answered　in　English。
　〃Mr。　Lop…sing　please。〃
　〃I　don't　know　that　name。　There's　no　Mr。　Lop…ting　here。　You　have　a　wrong　number。〃
　〃I　want　to　leave　a　message。〃
　〃Sorry　you　have　a　wrong　number。　Look　in　your　phone　book！〃
　Voranski　relaxed；　his　heart　slowing　a　little。　〃I　want　to　speak　to　Arthur；〃　he　said；　his　English　perfect。
　〃Sorry；　he's　not　here　yet。〃
　〃He　was　told　to　be　there；　to　wait　my　call；〃　he　said　curtly。　〃Why　is　there　a　change？〃
　〃Who　is　this　please？〃
　〃Brown；〃　he　snapped；　using　his　cover　name。
　He　was　somewhat　mollified　as　he　heard　the　other　voice　instantly　take　on　just　deference。　〃Ah；　Mr。　Brown；　wele　back　to　Hong　Kong。　Arthur's　phoned　to　tell　me　to　expect　your　call。　He　asked　me　to　wele　you　and　to　say　everything's　prepared　for　the　meeting　tomorrow。〃
　〃When　do　you　expect　him？〃
　〃Any　moment；　sir。〃
　Voranski　cursed　silently　for　he　was　obliged　to　report　back　to　the　ship　by　phone　within　the　hour。　He　did　not　like　divergences　in　any　plan。
　〃Very　well；〃　he　said。　'Tell　him　to　call　me　at　32。〃　This　was　the　code　name　for　their　safe　apartment　in　Sinclair　Towers。　〃Has　the　American　arrived　yet？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Good。　He　was　acpanied？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Good。　And？〃
　〃Arthur　told　me　nothing　more。〃
　〃Have　you　met　her　yet？〃
　〃No。〃
　〃Has　Arthur？〃
　〃I　don't　know。〃
　〃Has　contact　been　made　yet　with　either　of　them？〃
　〃Sorry；　I　don't　know。　Arthur　didn't　tell　me。〃
　〃And　the　tai…pan？　What　about　him？〃
　〃Everything's　arranged。〃
　〃Good。　How　long　would　it　take　you　to　get　to　32；　if　necessary？〃
　〃Ten　to　fifteen　minutes。　Did　you　want　us　to　meet　you　there？〃
　〃I'll　decide　that　later。〃
　〃Oh　Mr。　Brown；　Arthur　thought　you　might　like　a　little　pany　after　such　a　voyage。　Her　name's　Koh；　Maureen　Koh。〃
　〃That　was　thoughtful　of　him　…　very　thoughtful。〃
　〃Her　phone　number's　beside　the　phone　at　32。　Just　ring　and　she'll　arrive　within　half　an　hour。　Arthur　wanted　to　know　if　your　superior　was　with　you　tonight　…　if　he'd　need　panionship　also。〃
　〃No。　He'll　join　us　as　planned　tomorrow。　But　tomorrow　evening　he　will　expect　hospitality。　Good　night。〃　Voranski　hung　up　arrogantly；　conscious　of　his　KGB　seniority。　At　that　instant　the　booth　door　swung　open　and　the　Chinese　barged　in　and　another　blocked　the　outside。　〃What　the　…　〃
　The　words　died　as　he　did。　The　stiletto　was　long　and　thin。　It　came　out　easily。　The　Chinese　let　the　body　fall。　He　stared　down　at　the　inert　heap　for　a　moment　then　cleaned　the　knife　on　the　corpse　and　slid　it　back　into　its　sheath　in　his　sleeve。　He　grinned　at　the　heavyset　Chinese　who　still　blocked　the　glass　windows　in　the　upper　part　of　the　booth　as　though　he　were　the　next　customer；　then　put　a　coin　in　and　dialed。
　On　the　third　ring　a　polite　voice　said；　〃Tsim　Sha　Tsui　Police　Station；　good　evening。〃
　The　man　smiled　sardonically　and　said　rudely　in　Shanghainese；　〃You　speak　Shanghainese？〃
　A　hesitation；　a　click；　and　now　another　voice　in　Shanghainese　said；　〃This　is　Divisional　Sergeant　Tang…po。　What　is　it；　caller？〃
　〃A　Soviet　pig　slipped　through　your　mother…fornicating　net　tonight　as　easily　as　a　bullock　shits；　but　now　he's　joined　his　ancestors。　Do　we　of　the　14K　have　to　do　all　your　manure…infected　work　for　you？〃
　〃What　Sovie…　〃
　〃Hold　your　mouth　and　listen！　His　turtle…dung　corpse's　in　a　phone　booth　at　Golden　Ferry；　Kowloonside。　Just　tell　your　mother…fornicating　superiors　to　keep　their　eyes　on　enemies　of　China　and　not　up　their　fornicating　stink　holes！〃　At　once　he　hung　up　and　eased　out　of　the　box。　He　turned　back　momentarily　and　spat　on　the　body；　then　shut　the　door　and　he　and　his　panion　joined　the　streams　of　passengers　heading　for　the　Hong　Kong　ferry。
　They　did　not　notice　the　man　trailing　them。　He　was　a　short；　tubby　American　dressed　like　all　the　other　tourists　with　the　inevitable　camera　around　his　neck。　Now　he　was　leaning　against　the　starboard　gunnel　melding　into　the　crowd　perfectly；　pointing　his　camera　this　way　and　that　as　the　ferry　scuttled　toward　Hong　Kong　Island。　But　unlike　other　tourists　his　film　was　very　special；　so　was　his　lens；　and　his　camera。　〃Hello；　friend；〃　another　tourist　said　with　a　beam；　wandering　up　to　him。　〃You　having　yourself　a　time？〃
　〃Sure；〃　the　man　said。　〃Hong　Kong's　a　great　place；　huh？〃
　〃You　can　say　that　again。〃　He　turned　and　looked　at　the　view。　〃Beats　the　hell　outta　Minneapolis。〃
　The　first　man　turned　also　but　kept　his　peripheral　vision　locked　onto　the　two　Chinese；　then　dropped　his　voice。　〃We　got　problems。〃
　The　other　tourist　blanched。　〃Did　we　lose　him？　He　didn't　double　back；　Tom；　I'm　certain。　I　covered　both　exits。　I　thought　you　had　him　pegged　in　the　booth。〃
　〃You　bet　your　ass　he　was　pegged。　Look　back　there；　center　row　…　the　Chinese　joker　with　the　white　shirt　and　the　one　next　to　him。　Those　two　sons　of　bitches　knocked　him　off。〃
　〃Jesus！〃　Marty　Povitz；　one　of　the　team　of　CIA　agents　assigned　to　cover　the　Sovetsky　Ivanov；　carefully　looked　at　the　two　Chinese。　〃Kuomintang？　Nationalists？　Or　mies？〃
　〃Shit；　I　don't　know。　But　the　stiff's　still　in　a　phone　booth　back　there。　Where's　Rosemont？〃
　〃He's　g…　〃　Povitz　stopped　then　raised　his　voice　and　became　an　affable　tourist　again　as　passengers　began　to　crowd　nearer　the　exit。　〃Lookit　there；〃　he　said；　pointing　to　the　crest　of　the　Peak。　The　apartment　buildings　were　tall　and　well　lit　and　so　were　the　houses　that　dotted　the　slopes；　one　particularly；　one　very　high；　the　highest　private　mansion　in　Hong　Kong。　It　was　floodlit　and　sparkled　like　a　jewel。　〃Say；　whoever　lives　there's　just　about　on　top　of　the　world；　huh？〃
　Tom　Connochie；　the　senior　of　the　two；　sighed。　〃Gotta　be　a　tai…pan's　house。〃　Thoughtfully　he　lit　a　cigarette　and　let　the　match　spiral　into　the　black　waters。　Then；　openly　chatting　tourist…style；　he　took　a　shot　of　the　house　and　casually　finished　the　roll　of　film；　taking　several　more　of　the　two　Chinese。　He　reloaded　his　camera　and；　unobserved；　passed　the　roll　of　exposed　film　to　his　partner。　Hardly　using　his　lips；　he　said；　〃Call　Rosemont　up　there；　soon　as　we　dock　…　tell　him　we　got　problems　…　then　go　get　these　processed　tonight。　I'll　phone　you　when　these　two've　bedded　down。〃
　〃You　crazy？〃　Povitz　said。　〃You're　not　tailing　them　alone。〃
　〃Have　to；　Marty；　the　film　might　be　important。　We're　not　risking　that。〃
　〃No。〃
　〃Goddamnit；　Marty；　I'm　tai…pan　of　this　operation。〃
　〃Orders　says　two　g…　〃
　〃Screw　orders！〃　Connochie　hissed。　〃Just　call　Rosemont　and　don't　foul　up　the　film。〃　Then　he　raised　his　voice　and　said　breezily；　〃Great　night　for　a　sail；　huh？〃
　〃Sure。〃
　He　nodded　at　the　sparkle　of　light　on　the　crest　of　the　Peak；　then　focused　on　it　through　his　super…powered　telescopic　lens　viewfinder。　〃You　live　up　there；　you　got　it　made；　huh？〃
　
　Dunross　and　Bartlett　were　facing　each　other　in　the　Long　Gallery　at　the　head　of　the　staircase。　Alone。
　〃Have　you　made　a　deal　with　Gornt？〃　Dunross　asked。
　〃No；〃　Bartlett　said。　〃Not　yet。〃　He　was　as　crisp　and　tough　as　Dunross　and　his　dinner　jacket　fitted　as　elegantly。
　〃Neither　you　nor　Casey？〃　Dunross　asked。
　〃No。〃
　〃But　you　have　examined　possibilities？〃
　〃We're　in　business　to　make　money；　Ian　…　as　are　you！〃
　〃Yes。　B