“You’re the one who stabbed Del Goodman, Steerforth. I should have known. Sim can’t bear violence.” That from the godown when they’d killed the old addict.
“Yes.” He shrugged. “An asset like a divvy—I just couldn’t lose the chance of trading you to the Triad. It’s made my future, Lovejoy.” And brought him closer to Ling Ling.
Ah, true love.
“Noticed anything, James?” I indicated my plight.
“Promotion costs casualties.” He even shrugged, which was big of him.
“You didn’t pass on the message I gave you?”
“Not until…”
“Until you dropped in at my studio to nick the extra painting.” I’d already guessed.
“Even though you knew it was the price of saving Marilyn? Is she another casualty?”
He moved an arm a fraction and a knife slipped into his hand. I really wished I could do that. “No more talk, Lovejoy.”
He stepped at me. Leung shot him. He seemed to give a shudder as if clouted. Blood came from his mouth as Leung shot him a second time. I heard myself going “Argh, argh,” in fright at the deafening gunfire, backing away from the appalling sight of Steerforth, handsome elegant Steerforth, scrabbling wide-eyed on hands and knees in blooded sand.
Ong touched my arm. I leapt, screeched in terror. He only stood there, grinning.
“Come,” he said. I followed, warily eyeing Leung in case it was a ruse. As if he’d need one.
The beach was empty, except for a huge mound where Fatty had once stood. The mound was him. Blood was welling beneath a sheet of flies on his face. A dinghy was already approaching the yacht, Dr. Chao incongruous beneath a sunshade in the stern while sailors rowed. Sun Sen and a matelot waited by the second boat.
“Excuse me a sec.” I retched and retched until my vision blurred and I fell down.
“Hurry, Lovejoy. Boat leaving.” Leung shed sunflower husks. Ong climbed aboard.
Me too? “What about this frigging carnage?”
“Enemies, bam-bam.” They were only waste.
We got into the dinghy and were rowed to the yacht. By the time I had stopped trembling we were rounding into Lamma Channel. Dr. Chao invited me to tea with Ling Ling “and a special friend” in the dining cabin. I declined.
38
« ^
WHERE are you going, Lovejoy?” She was sitting upright in bed. I’d got halfway to the door.
“Oh. Hello, love. Trying not to wake you.” I smiled my sincerest, inventing. “Er, just down to the lobby shops.”
“You’re not going to that Digga Dig? Because those bitches are up against a real American woman right here, and—”
“Didn’t I promise?” I waxed indignant. “I’ve ordered a little present in reception for you, Lorna.”
“Oh, darling. How sweet you are.” She beckoned, clutched me. “From now on just you remember it’s us two, capeesh? Once I clinch the merger for Brookers Gelman, I’ll be here permanently.”
“Great, love.” We’d already gone through this tiresome tirade but she was still misty.
“And you’ll be advisory consultant, darling.”
“Great, darling.” I declutched and headed for the door.
“Lovejoy. Where is Steerforth? Only, Mame’s—”
“Dunno, love. I’ll ask if there’s a message.”
And escaped thankfully. Where do women get their determination?
The Digga Dig was warming up for the evening. This was the first time I’d called since the terrible business three days ago. Chok and the other waiters were pleased to see me. Fourteen letters, three cables, and six presents had arrived for me. Nobody mentioned Steerforth’s mail. He’d vanished, and Hong Kong determinedly took no notice. I opened the missives, forgot the presents. Sundry Carmens, Olgas, Lavinias, and Marias made impassioned offers. From dates given, some troublers were already here. And, most ominous of all, a speculative note from Janie, of all people, saying she’d had a private detective trace me to the Digga Dig. She was at the Hilton. Gulp.
One bird from America included an air ticket to New York. I cheered up. Maybe they’d cash it for me, a rebate? I borrowed some notepaper, and scribbled the same sad message to each of the women threatening arrival. I put, “Dearest, I’m so sorry that I can’t see you right now, only I’ve fallen on hard times and I’m too ashamed. Perhaps in another few weeks, if you are still around… ? Love and cheers, Lovejoy.” It sounded just right, because women never want a penniless bloke.
Avoiding the temptation to see what had happened at Steerforth’s flat, I crossed to the Hong Kong side and lazily caught the tram, walking left and up Cleverly Street to my studio.
It was like old times. The panel where I’d concealed my killer copy had been invisibly repaired. The studio would need a good going over before it could be used again as a faker’s studio, of course. I locked up and walked into the Mologai, up towards Hollywood Road, with Cat Street on my right. The message had said six o’clock, plenty of time, so I paused and had a bowl of rice and vegetables between the jade stall and the phony coinmonger. I didn’t know how long this meeting with the ultimate boss would take and I get famished easily. A silent foki followed me, but I’d crashed the terror barrier.
Sixish, I was sitting on the curb by the temple. Traffic was diminishing. The old opium smokers were emerging opposite for the evening cool, sucking on their gigantic bamboo stems.
Listening, I heard him coming, his little poles going clack-clack above that familiar trundle.
“Wotcher, Titch,” I said, sarcastic. “All right for money?”
“Evening, Lovejoy.”
He did his braking trick, sparks flying from the wheels. “Are you?”
“Don’t you ever get out of breath, getting about like that?” I was curious.
“Good heavens, no. Second nature. We lepers adapt.”
“Aye. You manage all right, Titch.” I hesitated. “One thing. No offense intended with the nickname—”
“Please. I like it. Local color’s the best protection.”
“That why you don’t go about in a specially adapted Rolls?”
“Something like that.” He gave me quite a shy glance. “Sorry about Steerforth, but when he tried lifting that extra painting, obviously for his own gain, he deserved punishment. Of course the place was watched.” He anticipated my question and gave a lopsided shrug. “I ordered Dr. Chao to promise him immunity from harm if he divulged your message. He was then ordered to execute you. He’d done that sort of thing before for us.”
“Immunity? But your people topped him.”
“We lied to him, Lovejoy,” Titch said calmly. “One small point: How did you know Fatty had exceeded his permitted squeeze?”
“He killed Johny Chen for a trivial purchase Johny made at my request.”
“Ah. He reported that it was because Chen withheld commission.” He gave his uneven grin. “You were lucky, Lovejoy. Did you really plan it all as it came out?”
“No. But I made an offering to Kuan Ti like you said.”
He was delighted and laughed so much he started rolling off the pavement and I had to stop him. He sobered. “You’ve placed a few strange orders yourself, Lovejoy.” So he’d heard; inevitable.
“Only one, really. At a paper shop I once passed, Kowloon side.”
He sniffed censoriously. “They’re very expensive, Lovejoy. Cheaper nearer Boundary Street. Sim’d have got you a special price.”
“Will it matter if I don’t know her parents’ names?”
“I’ll see you get their parents’ full written names. You’ve ordered it for tonight, I believe.”
“Yes.” I thought a second. “Their parents? Plural?”
“Marilyn and Ling Ling are half-sisters, of course.”
“The parents kept Marilyn?”
“Yes. But exposed the next girl baby on the hillside to die. It happened a lot in those days, Lovejoy. Still does, one form or another.”
“And you happened along.” I eyed him. “Good of you, seeing you have your own difficulties.”