Noble House

"Christ," Johnjohn said again. "If China gets experts like him
…" He twisted the paper knife that was on Havergill's desk. "Ian, have you considered telling Roger Crosse, or Rosemont to prevent that?"
"Of course, but I can't do that. I absolutely can't."
"Of course Ian can't! Have you considered what's at stake?" Havergill jerked an angry thumb at the window. Fourteen floors below he could see an impatient, angry mob of people trying to get into the bank, the police stretched very thin now. "Let's not delude ourselves, the run is on, we're getting down to the bottom of the barrel. We barely have enough cash to last the day, barely enough to pay government employees. Thank God it's Saturday tomorrow! If Ian says there's a chance we could get China's cash, of course he can't risk giving away such a confidence! Ian, did you hear the Ho-Pak's closed its doors?"
"No. I've been chasing around like a blue-arsed fly since I left Tiptop."
"The Ching Prosperity closed too, the Far East and India's tottering, Blacs is eking out its reserves and like us, praying they can last the next half an hour to closing." He shoved the phone across his pristine desk. "Ian, please call Tiptop now, it's just 2:30."
Dunross kept his face stony and his voice level. "There're a couple of things to settle first, Paul. What about the thorium imports?" He had told them he had contacted Photographer Ng who had happily given him an immediate firm order for as much of the rare earth as he could obtain. "Will you provide the foreign exchange?"
"Yes, provided the trade is not restricted."
"I'll need that in writing."
"You'll have it before closing tonight. Please call him now."
"In ten minutes. It's a matter of face. You'll agree to having a permanent Bank of China contact in the building?"
"Yes. I'm sure they'll never let one of our people inside their building, but no matter." Havergill glanced at his watch again, then looked at Johnjohn. "The fellow'd have to be monitored and we might have to change a few procedures for security, eh?"
Johnjohn nodded. "Yes, but that shouldn't cause any problem,' Paul. If it was Tiptop himself, that would be perfect. Ian, do you think there's a chance?"
"I don't know. Now, what about the Yu trade?"
Havergill said, "We can't finance any smuggling. You would of necessity be on your own."
"Who said anything about smuggling?"
"Quite. Then let me say we'll have to take a careful look at the Yu trade when and if you are asked to assist them."
"Come on, Paul, you know damn well it's part of the deal—if there's a deal. Why else would they have wanted me to meet him?"
Johnjohn interjected, "Why not table that one, Ian? We'll bend every which way to assist you when the time comes. You told Yu the same thing—that you'd wait and see but no actual commitment, eh?"
"But you agree to help in every way to assist me?"
"Yes, on this and the thorium."
"Then what about my loan?"
Paul Havergill said, "I'm not permitted to grant it, Ian. We've already been through that."
"Then call a board meeting right now."
"I'll consider it. Let's see how things're going, eh?" Paul Havergill pressed a button and spoke into the small speaker. "Stock Exchange, please."
In a moment a voice came over the speaker. Behind the voice they could hear pandemonium. "Yes, Mr. Havergill?"
"Charles, what's the latest?"
"The whole market's off 28 points . . ." Both bankers blanched. The small vein in Dunross's forehead was pulsing. "… and it looks like the beginning of a panic. The bank's off 7 points, Struan's is down to 11.50. . ."
"Christ!" Johnjohn muttered.
"… Rothwell-Gornt off 7, Hong Kong Power off 5, Asian Land 11 … everything's skidding. All bank stocks are tumbling. The Ho-Pak's frozen at 12 and when it gets unfrozen it'll go to a dollar. The Far East and India is only paying out maximum 1,000 a customer."
Havergill's nervousness increased. Far East was one of the biggest in the Colony.
"I hate to be a pessimist but it looks like New York in '29! I th—" The voice was drowned out by a surge of shouting. "Sorry, there's another huge sell offering up on Struan's. 200,000 shares. …"
"Christ, where the hell's all the stock coming from?" Johnjohn asked.
"From every Tom, Dick and Harry in Hong Kong," Dunross said coldly. "Including the Victoria."
"We had to protect our investors," Havergill said, then added into the mike, "Thank you, Charles. Call me back at a quarter to three." He clicked the speaker off. "There's your answer, Ian. I cannot in all conscience recommend to the board we bail you out with another unsecured 100 million loan."
"Are you going to call a board meeting right now or not?"
"Your stock's plunging. You've no assets to pledge to support the run on your stock, your bank holdings are already pledged, the stock in your treasury gets more valueless every minute. On Monday or Tuesday, Gornt will buy back in and then he'll control Struan's."
Dunross watched him. "You'll let Gornt take us over? I don't believe you. You'll buy in before he does. Or have you already made a deal to split up Struan's between you?"
"No deal. Not yet. But if you'll resign from Struan's right now, agree in writing to sell us as much of your treasury stock as we want at market price at Monday's closing, agree to appoint a new tai-pan of our board's choosing, we'll announce that we're supporting Struan's totally."
"When would you make the announcement?"
"Monday at 3:10."
"In other words you'll give me nothing."
"You've always said the best thing about Hong Kong was that it was a free marketplace, where the strong survive and the weak perish. Why didn't you persuade Sir Luis to withdraw your stock from trading?"
"He suggested it. I refused."
"Why?"
"Struan's is as strong as ever."
"Wasn't the real reason face—and your foolish pride? Sorry, there's nothing I can do to prevent the inevitable."
"Balls!" Dunross said and Havergill flushed. "You can call a meeting. You can c—"
"No meeting!"
"Ian." Johnjohn tried to soften the open hostility between the two men. "Listen, Paul, how about a compromise: If, through Ian, we get China's cash, you will call a meeting of the board at once, an extraordinary meeting, today. You could do that—there are enough directors in town, and it's fair. Eh?"
Havergill hesitated. "I'll consider it."
"That's not good enough," Dunross said hotly.
"I'll consider it. Kindly call Tipt—"
"When's the meeting? If?"
"Next week."
"No. Today as Johnjohn suggests."
"I said I'll consider it," Havergill said, flaring. "Now please call Tiptop."
"If you'll guarantee to call the board no later than tomorrow at ten!"
Havergill's voice harshened. "I will not be blackmailed as I was the last time. If you don't want to call Tiptop, I will. I can now. If they want to lend us their money, they'll lend it to us whoever the hell calls. You've agreed to the thorium deal, you've agreed to meet Yu next month, we agree to support that deal whoever controls the Noble House. I am not empowered to grant you any further loans. So take it or leave it. I will consider calling a board meeting before Monday's market opens. That's all I promise."
The silence was heavy and electric.
Dunross shrugged. He picked up the phone and dialed.
"Weyyyyy?" The woman's voice was arrogant.
"The Honorable Tip Tok-toh please," he said in Cantonese. "This is the tai-pan."
"Ah, the tai-pan. Ah, please wait a moment." Dunross waited. A bead of sweat gathered on the bottom of Johnjohn's chin. "Weyyyy? Tai-pan, the doctor's with him, he's very sick. Please call back later!" The phone clicked off before Dunross could say anything. He redialed.