I'm going to find her family and... and then we'll see. I've enough cash for that and a few years left, our son and daughter are grown up now, part of the tapestry of London, educated as best I could, paid for as best I could, my sister and her husband their real parents--both sterling and the stuff of England.
I'm a good doctor and God knows they need doctors in India, even bad ones, so who knows, maybe I can find some happiness... I don't even expect that, just some peace from the full-blooded horror of the killing of her.
Tired now he studied the two coffins. A last look to check that everything was as it should be.
Taking the oil lamp, he went out, bolting the door after him.
A baleful moon cast a shadow through the open windows. Silently another shadow moved.
Sergeant Towery peered into the morgue. He was puzzled. Why should Doc Hoag arrive in the dead of night, and then why dig in the garden like a foul grave robber to pack the dead native's coffin with earth?
Curiosity killed the cat, me lad, but not Yours Truly, not when I'm in charge. Tomorrow you'll take a closer look afore the good Doctor's awake, and afore Lord God Almighty Pallidar arrives for inspection.
He can find the answer.
KANAGAWA Friday, 12th December
KANAGAWA Friday, 12th December: Pallidar said icily, "Well, Doctor?"
Hoag had just been summoned. He sat on the edge of a chair, uncomfortable and pale.
Stiff-backed and uniformed, Pallidar was imposing even though he had a bad cold. On the desk was his plumed hat, his sword beside it, the early morning light glinting off the braid. Behind him stood Sergeant Towery. Bells from the temple toned ominously.
Hoag shrugged meekly. "Ballast."
"For Christ's sake, Doctor, this isn't a court martial and personally I don't care if you pack coffins with cow shit, kindly tell me why you did what you did last night."
"I... I... thought, thought it was a good idea."
"I want to know, now..." A cough stopped him. Exasperated, Pallidar blew his nose and coughed, cleared his throat, and coughed again.
Hoag said brightly, "I've, we've some special, new cough mixture in the clinic, it'll get rid of that cold in a jiffy, it's got quinine in it, opium." He began to get up. "I'll get some an--"
"Sit down! The coffin, for Christ's sake, not my cold! The Sergeant saw you. Rightly he told me. Now you tell me why?"
Hoag had twisted and turned but knew he was trapped. Cursing the Sergeant silently, he said, "Can, can I, can I talk to you alone, Settry, old boy, please?"
Pallidar glared at him. "All right.
Sergeant!" Towery saluted and marched out.
"Well?"
"Well you see... you see..." Although Hoag had decided to tell him sharply to please mind his own business, that he wasn't subject to military discipline anymore, thank God, you bloody officers trampled on me before but you're not going to do it again... he suddenly found himself pouring out the story in detail, ending, "So you see, Settry, it was the weight, the difference in weight, earth was perfect.... Listen, George Babcott is due any moment but he's not to know, no one is--you know nothing--we just send the wrong, the right coffin aboard the clipper and tonight when the cutter arrives, God willing, we bury him as he wanted and Angel wants."
Hoag fanned himself, feeling better, at the same time weak with guilt. "You know nothing. Now, now I'll get that cough mixture."
"Will you sit down." Pallidar glowered at him. "You're a bloody fool. First: have you looked out of the window?"
"Eh?" Hoag did as he was bidden. These windows faced seawards. The sea was grey, swell heavy and nimbus clouds had closed out the sun, dominating the sky. "Oh!"
"Yes, oh! There'll be a bloody storm before dusk so no cutter burial even if it was possible, and you know Sir William ordered a Hong Kong burial so by God that's where it will be."
"But Settry, don't--"
"Not for you, Angelique, anyone--"
Pallidar broke off with a new fit of coughing, then added hoarsely, "Sir William's in charge, he made a decision and that's it.
Clear?"
"Yes, but..."
"No bloody but for Christ's sake. Kindly fetch some cough medicine and stay to hell out of the morgue. Sergeant!"
Towery stuck his head in. "Yessir?"
"Put a sentry on the morgue, no one to go in without my approval. I don't want the coffins touched."
Hoag went off cursing himself for leaking Sir William's decision, cursing Pallidar, the busybody Sergeant, but mostly himself. Fuck it, he thought. I've botched it. In the clinic he found the cough mixture, was tempted to add some castor oil but decided not to. "Here, Settry, this will do the trick."
Pallidar took some, choked. "Filthy stuff, you sure you didn't pee in it just for badness?"
"I was tempted." Hoag smiled. "Sorry for being a perfect bloody idiot. You can still close your eyes, you could you know, Nelson did."
"Yes but he was Navy, we keep our eyes on teeth marks."
"Settry. Please?"
Thoughtfully Pallidar sipped the medicine.
"You should comply with Sir William's order, best in the long run. You were bound to be caught, yesterday was the thirteenth."
"Damn me, I didn't notice."
Hoag's attention focused on the care lines on the good-looking face. "What's up?"
"With me, nothing, except this lousy cold and cough. Plenty's up in the Settlement."
"What now?"
"Last few days lots of enemy movement all around us, samurai patrols, most of them covert --just for safety we've been patrolling to the Tokaido and Settlement limits so we spotted them. Coming here samurai were stacked ten-deep in places. They didn't interfere with us except for the usual gibbering. I counted almost four hundred armed bastards."
"Tairo Anjo trying to harass us, scare us?"
"Probably." Pallidar coughed, took another gulp of the medicine. "This is dreadful, I feel worse already. Ugh! I'm recommending we withdraw all personnel from here for a while."
Hoag whistled. "We wouldn't want to close the clinic."
"I wouldn't want to have you dead without a coffin.
These bastards love surprise attacks. Like poor bloody Malcolm. Someone's going to pay for him."
Hoag nodded, "I agree." Idly he was looking out towards Yokohama, the countryside flat and uninteresting in winter--hate the cold, always have always will. His eyes took him to Prancing Cloud, the steamer mail ship, the merchantmen, warships and tenders all busy, preparing for the coming storm or preparing to leave. Warships had smoke trickling from their funnels--fleet orders, well publicized, so that the Bakufu and their spies would be aware that the whole fleet could sail on a war footing within an hour.
Stupid, all the killing, but then what can we do? Those responsible must pay. Then he saw the smoke from the Struan steam cutter chugging this way, bobbing through the troughs, spray from the bow wave drenching the glass of the bridge and main cabin. His anxiety crested. "Settry, don't you think--" He aborted another fervent plea, suddenly realizing that even if tonight was out for the actual burial, with luck he could still keep the first part of the plan and have the wrong coffin put aboard Prancing Cloud.
I'm the only one who knows which coffin is which, except perhaps the Sergeant and I've a hunch he won't notice the difference. No one can, unless a coffin is opened. "Don't you think life in Yokohama is weirder than other places, living on a powder keg as we do?"
"It's the same everywhere. Just the same,"
Pallidar said thoughtfully, watching him.
YOKOHAMA Jamie, Angelique and Skye were grouped around the bay window in the tai-pan's office.
Rain splattered the glass. It was near midday.