The phone rang. "Shut up!" she shrieked at it, then laughed nervously. "Mary Mary quite contrary where did your temper go?" she chided herself and picked the phone up. "Hello?" "Mary, Brian Kwok, sorry to wake you but is Rob—""Oh hello, dear. No, sorry, he's just left. Something about the Werewolves.""Yes, I just heard, that's what I was calling about. He's gone to Sha Tin?""Yes. Are you going too?""No. I'm with the Old Man.""Poor you." She heard him laugh. They chatted for a moment then he rang off.She sighed and poured herself another cup of tea, added milk and sugar and thought about John Chen. Once upon a time she had been madly in love with him. They had been lovers for more than two years and he had been her first. This was in the Japanese Internment Camp in Stanley Prison on the south part of the island.In 1940 she had passed the Civil Service exam in England with honors and after a few months had been sent out to Hong Kong, around the Cape. She had arrived late in '41, just nineteen, and just in time to be interned with all European civilians, there to stay until 1945.I was twenty-two when I got out and the last two years, we were lovers, John and I. Poor John, nagged constantly by his rotten father, and his sick mother, with no way to escape them and almost no privacy in the camp, cooped up with families, children, babes, husbands, wives, hatred hunger envy and little laughter all those years. Loving him made the camp bearable. . . .I don't want to think about those rotten times.Or the rotten time after the camp when he married his father's choice, a rotten little harpy but someone with money and influence and Hong Kong family connections. I had none. I should have gone home but I didn't want home—what was there to go home to? So I stayed and worked in the Colonial Office and had a good time, good enough. And then I met Robert.Ah, Robert. You were a good man and good to me and we had fun and I was a good wife to you, still try to be. But I can't have children and you … we both want children and one day a few years ago, you found out about John Chen. You never asked me about him but I know you know and ever since then you've hated him. It all happened long before I met you and you knew about the camp but not about my lover. Remember how before we got married I said, Do you want to know about the past, my darling? And you said, No, old girl.You used to call me old girl all the time. Now you don't call me anything. Just Mary sometimes.Poor Robert! How I must have disappointed you!Poor John! How you disappointed me, once upon a time so fine, now so very dead.I wish I was dead too.She began to cry.407:15 A.M. :"It's going to continue to rain, Alexi," Dunross said, the track already sodden, heavy overcast and the day gloomy."I agree, tai-pan. If it rains even part of tomorrow too, the going will be foul on Saturday.""Jacques? What do you think?""I agree," deVille said. "Thank God for the rain but merde it would be a pity if the races were canceled."Dunross nodded.They were standing on the grass near the winner's circle at the Happy Valley Racecourse, the three men dressed in raincoats and hats. There was a bad weal across Dunross's face, and bruises, but his eyes were steady and clear and he stood with his easy confidence, watching the cloud cover, the rain still falling but not as strongly as in the night, other trainers and owners and bystanders scattered about the paddock and stands, equally pensive. A few horses were exercising, among them Noble Star, Buccaneer Lass with a stable jockey up and Gornt's Pilot Fish. All of the horses were being exercised gingerly with very tight reins: the track and the approach to the track were very slippery. But Pilot Fish was prancing, enjoying the rain."This morning's weather report said the storm was huge." Trav-kin's sloe eyes were red-rimmed with tiredness and he watched Dunross. "If the rain stops tomorrow, the going'll still be soft on Saturday.""Does that help or hurt Noble Star's chances, Alexi?" Jacques asked."As God wills, Jacques. She's never run in the wet." It was hard for Travkin to concentrate. Last evening the phone had rung and it was the KGB stranger again and the man had rudely cut through his questions of why he had vanished so suddenly. "It's not your privilege to question, Prince Kurgan. Just tell me everything you know about Dunross. Now. Everything. His habits, rumors about him, everything."Travkin had obeyed. He knew that he was in a vise, knew that the stranger who must be KGB would be taping what he said to check the truth of what he related, the slightest variation of the truth perhaps a death knell for his wife or son or his son's wife or son's children—if they truly existed. Do they? he asked himself again, agonized. "What's the matter, Alexi?""Nothing, tai-pan," Travkin replied, feeling unclean. "I was thinking of what you went through last night." The news of the fire at Aberdeen had flooded the airwaves, particularly Venus Poon's harrowing eyewitness account which had been the focus of the reports. "Terrible about the others, wasn't it?""Yes." So far the known death count was fifteen burned and drowned, including two children. "It'll take days to find out really how many were lost.""Terrible," Jacques said. "When I heard about it… if Susanne had been here we would have been caught in it. She . . . Curious how life is sometimes.""Bloody firetrap! Never occurred to me before," Dunross said. "We've all eaten there dozens of times—I'm going to talk to the governor this morning about all those floating restaurants." "But you're all right, you yourself?" Travkin asked. "Oh yes. No problem." Dunross smiled grimly. "Not unless we all get the croup from swimming in that cesspit."When the Floating Dragon had suddenly capsized, Dunross, Gornt and Peter Marlowe had been in the water right below. The megaphone on the police launch had shouted a frantic warning and they had all kicked out desperately. Dunross was a strong swimmer and he and Gornt had just got clear though the surge of water sucked them backward. As his head went under he saw the half-full cutter pulled into the maelstrom and capsized and Marlowe in trouble. He let himself go with the boiling torrent as the ship settled onto her side and lunged for Marlowe. His fingers found his shirt and held on and they swirled together for a moment, drawn a few fathoms down, smashing against the deck. The blow almost stunned him but he held onto Marlowe and when the drag lessened he kicked for the surface. Their heads came out of the water together. Marlowe gasped his thanks and struck out for Fleur who was hanging onto the side of the overturned cutter with others. Around them was chaos, people gasping and drowning and being rescued by sailors and by the strong. Dunross saw Casey diving for someone. Gornt was nowhere to be seen. Bartlett came up with Christian Toxe and kicked for a life belt. He made sure that Toxe had hold of the life ring securely before he shouted to Dunross, "I think Gornt got sucked down and there was a woman . . ." and at once dived again.Dunross looked around. The Floating Dragon was almost on her side now. He felt a slight underwater explosion and water boiled around him for a moment. Casey came up for air, filled her lungs and slid under the surface again. Dunross dived too. It was almost impossible to see but he groped his way down along the top deck that was now almost vertical in the water. He swam around the wreck, searching, and stayed below as long as he could, then surfaced carefully for there were many swimmers still thrashing around. Toxe was choking out seawater, precariously hanging onto the life ring. Dunross swam over and paddled him toward a sailor, knowing Toxe could not swim.