Noble House

"Who else?"
"A dozen or more. The more important ones are Johnjohn at the bank, General Jen from Taiwan, Gavallan pere from Paris, Four Finger Wu, Pug—"
"Four Fingers?" Dunross's hope peaked. "When did he call?"
She referred to her list. "2:56."
I wonder if the old pirate has changed his mind, Dunross thought, his excitement growing.
Yesterday afternoon late he had gone to Aberdeen to see Wu to seek his help but, as with Lando Mata, he had got only vague promises.
"Listen, Old Friend," he had told him in halting Haklo, "I've never sought a favor from you before."
"A long line of your tai-pan ancestors have sought plenty favors and made great profits from my ancestors," the old man had answered, his cunning eyes darting. "Favors? Fornicate all dogs, tai-pan, I have not that amount of money. 20 millions? How could a poor old fisherman like me have that cash?"
"More came out of the Ho-Pak yesterday, old friend."
"Ayeeyah, fornicate all those who whisper wrong informations! Perhaps I withdrew my money safely but it all has gone, gone to pay for goods, goods I owed money for."
"I hope not for the White Powder," he had told him grimly. "The White Powder is terrible joss. Rumor has it you are interested in it. I advise against it as a friend. My ancestors, Old Green-Eyed Devil and Hag Struan of the Evil Eye and Dragon's Teeth, they both put a curse on those who deal in the White Powder, not on opium but on all White Powders and those who deal in them," he had said stretching the truth, knowing how superstitious the old man was. "I advise against the Killing Powder. Surely your gold business is more than profitable?"
"I know nothing of White Powder." The old man had forced a smile, showing his gums and a few twisted teeth. "And I don't fear curses, even from them!"
"Good," Dunross had said, knowing it to be a lie. "Meanwhile help me to get credit. 50 million for three days is all I want!"
"I will ask among my friends, tai-pan. Perhaps they can help, perhaps we can help together. But don't expect water from an empty well. At what interest?" "High interest, if it's tomorrow." "Not possible, tai-pan."
"Persuade Tightfist, you're an associate and old friend." "Tightfist is the only fornicating friend of Tightfist," the old man had said sullenly and nothing Dunross could say would change the old man's attitudes.
He reached for the phone. "What other calls were there, Claudia?" he asked as he dialed.
"Johnjohn at the bank, Phillip and Dianne… oh I told you about them. . . . Superintendent Crosse, then every major stockholder we have and every managing director of every subsidiary, most of the Turf Club . . . Travkin, your trainer, it's endless. . . ."
"Just a moment, Claudia." Dunross held onto his anxiety and said into the phone, in Haklo, "This is the tai-pan. Is my Old Friend there?"
"Sure, sure, Mr. Dunross," the American voice said politely in English. "Thanks for returning the call. He'll be right with you, sir." "Mr. Choy, Mr. Paul Choy?" "Yes sir." "Your uncle told me all about you. Welcome to Hong Kong."
"I … here he is sir."
"Thank you." Dunross concentrated. He had been asking himself why Paul Choy was with Four Fingers now and not busily engaged in worming his way into Gornt's affairs and why Crosse called and why Johnjohn.
"Tai-pan?"
"Yes, Old Friend. You wanted to speak to me?"
"Yes. Can . . . can we meet this evening?"
Dunross wanted to shout, Have you changed your mind? But good manners forbade it and Chinese did not like phones, always preferring to meet face-to-face. "Of course. About eight bells, in the middle watch," he said casually. Near midnight. "As near as I can," he added, remembering he was to meet Brian Kwok at 10:45 P.M.
"Good. My wharf. There will be a sampan waiting."
Dunross replaced the phone, his heart thumping. "First Crosse, Claudia, then bring in the Kirks. Then we'll go through the list. Set up a conference call with my father, Alastair and Sir Ross, make it for five, that's nine their time and ten in Nice. I'll call David and the others in the States this evening. No need to wake them in the middle of their night."
"Yes, tai-pan." Claudia was already dialing. She got Crosse, handed him the phone and left, closing the door after her.
"Yes, Roger?"
"How many times have you been into China?"
The unexpected question startled Dunross for a moment. "That's all a matter of record," he said. "It's easy for you to check."
"Yes, Ian, but could you recall now? Please."
"Four times to Canton, to the fair, every year for the last four years. And once to Peking with a trade commission, last year."
"Did you ever manage to get outside Canton—or Peking?"
"Why?"
"Did you?"
Dunross hesitated. The Noble House had many associations of long standing in China, and many old and trusted friends. Some were now committed Communists. Some were outwardly communists but inwardly totally Chinese and therefore far-seeing, secretive, cautious and nonpolitical. These men ranged in importance up to one in the Presidium. And all of these men, being Chinese, knew that history repeated itself, that eras could change so quickly and the Emperor of this morning could become the running dog of this afternoon, that dynasty followed dynasty at the whim of the gods, that the first of any dynasty inevitably mounted the Dragon throne with bloodstained hands, that an escape route was always to be sought after—and that certain barbarians were Old Friends and to be trusted.
But he knew most all of that Chinese were a practical people. China needed goods and help. Without goods and help they were defenseless against their historic and only real enemy, Russia.
So many times, because of the special trust in which the Noble House was held, Dunross had been approached officially and unofficially, but always secretly. He had many private potential deals simmering for all kinds of machinery and goods in short supply, including the fleet of jet airliners. Oftentimes he had gone where others could not go. Once he had gone to a meeting in Hangchow, the most beautiful part of China. This was to greet other members of the 49 Club privately, to be wined and dined as honored guests of China. The 49 Club consisted of those companies that had continued to trade with the PRC after 1949, mostly British firms. Britain had recognized Mao Tse-tung's government as the government of China shortly after Chiang Kai-shek abandoned the Mainland and fled to Taiwan. Even so, relations between the two governments had always been strained. But, by definition, relations between Old Friends were not, unless an Old Friend betrayed a confidence, or cheated.
"Oh I went on a few side trips," Dunross said airily, not wanting to lie to the chief of SI. "Nothing to write home about. Why?"
"Could you tell me where, please."
"If you're more specific, Roger, certainly," he replied, his voice hardening. "We're traders and not politicians and not spies and the Noble House has a special position in Asia. We've been here quite a few years and it's because of traders the Union Jack flies over … used to fly over half the earth. What had you in mind, old chap?"
There was a long pause. "Nothing, nothing in particular. Very well, Ian, I'll wait till we've had the pleasure of reading the papers, then I'll be specific. Thanks, so sorry to trouble you. 'Bye."
Dunross stared at the phone, troubled. What does Crosse want to know? he asked himself. Many of the deals he had made and would be making certainly would not conform to official government policy in London, or, even more, in Washington. His shortterm and long-term attitude toward China clearly was opposed to theirs. What they would consider contraband he did not.
Well, as long as I'm tai-pan, he told himself firmly, come hell or typhoon, our links with China will remain our links with China and that's the end of that. Most politicians in London and Washington just won't realize Chinese are Chinese first and Communist second. And Hong Kong's vital to the peace of Asia.