Noble House

"But Line, what's a coi—"
"That's all I'm telling you now, Casey, but you tell me does Armstrong figure there's some connection between Chen's kidnapping and the guns?"
"I don't know." She had shrugged. "I don't think so, Line. I couldn't even give you odds. He's too cagey that one." Again she had hesitated. "Line, have you made a deal, any deal with Gornt?"
"No. Nothing firm. Gornt just wants Struan out and wants to join with us to smash them. I said we'd discuss it Tuesday. Over dinner."
"What're you going to tell the tai-pan after dinner?"
"Depends on his questions. He'll know it's good strategy to probe enemy defenses."
Casey had begun to wonder who's the enemy, feeling very alien even here among all the other ladies. She had felt only hostility except from these two, Penelope and Kathren Gavallan—and a woman she had met earlier in the line for the toilet.
"Hello," the woman had said softly. "I hear you're a stranger here too."
"Yes, yes I am," Casey had said, awed by her beauty. "I'm Fleur Marlowe. Peter Marlowe's my husband. He's a writer. I think you look super!" "Thanks. So do you. Have you just arrived too?"
"No. We've been here for three months and two days but this is the first really English party we've been to," Fleur said, her English not as clipped as the others. "Most of the time we're with Chinese or by ourselves. We've a flat in the Old V and A annex. God," she added, looking at the toilet door ahead. "I wish she'd hurry up— my back teeth are floating."
"We're staying at the V and A too."
"Yes, I know. You two are rather famous." Fleur Marlowe laughed.
"Infamous! I didn't know they had apartments there."
"They're not, really. Just two tiny bedrooms and a sitting room. The kitchen's a cupboard. Still, it's home. We've got a bath, running water, and the loos flush." Fleur Marlowe had big gray eyes that tilted pleasingly and long fair hair and Casey thought she was about her age.
"Your husband's a journalist?"
"Author. Just one book. He mostly writes and directs films in Hollywood. That's what pays the rent."
"Why're you with Chinese?"
"Oh, Peter's interested in them." Fleur Marlowe had smiled and whispered conspiratorially, looking around at the rest of the women, "They're rather overpowering aren't they—more English than the English. The old school tie and all that balls."
Casey frowned. "But you're English too."
"Yes and no. I'm English but I come from Vancouver, B.C. We live in the States, Peter and I and the kids, in good old Hollywood, California. I really don't know what I am, half of one, half of the other."
"We live in L.A. too, Line and I."
"I think he's smashing. You're lucky."
"How old are your kids?"
"Four and eight—thank God we're not water rationed yet."
"How do you like Hong Kong?"
"It's fascinating, Casey. Peter's researching a book here so it's marvelous for him. My God, if half the legends are true … the Struans and Dunrosses and all the others, and your Quillan Gornt."
"He's not mine. I just met him this evening."
"You created a minor earthquake by walking across the room with him." Fleur laughed. "If you're going to stay here, talk to Peter, he'll fill you in on all sorts of scandals." She nodded at Dianne
Chen who was powdering her nose at one of the mirrors. "That's John Chen's stepmother, Phillip Chen's wife. She's wife number two —his first wife died. She's Eurasian and hated by almost everyone, but she's one of the kindest persons I've ever known."
"Why's she hated?"
"They're jealous, most of them. After all, she's wife of the com-pradore of the Noble House. We met her early on and she was terrific to me. It's … it's difficult living in Hong Kong for a woman, particularly an outsider. Don't really know why but she treated me like family. She's been grand."
"She's Eurasian? She looks Chinese."
"Sometimes it's hard to tell. Her maiden name's T'Chung, so Peter says, her mother's Sung. The TChungs come from one of Dirk Struan's mistresses and the Sung line's equally illegitimate from the famous painter, Aristotle Quance. Have you heard of him?"
"Oh yes."
"Lots of, er, our best Hong Kong families are, well, old Aristotle spawned four branches . . ."
At that moment the toilet door opened and a woman came out and Fleur said, "Thank God!"
While Casey was waiting her turn she had listened to the conversations of the others with half an ear. It was always the same: clothes, the heat, the water shortages, complaints about amahs and other servants, how expensive everything was or the children or schools. Then it was her turn and afterward, when she came out, Fleur Marlowe had vanished and Penelope had come up to her. "Oh I just heard about your not wanting to leave. Don't pay any attention to Joanna," Penelope had said quietly. "She's a pill and always has been."
"It was my fault—I'm not used to your customs yet."
"It's all very silly but in the long run it's much easier to let the men have their way. Personally I'm glad to leave. I must say I find most of their conversation boring."
"Yes, it is, sometimes. But it's the principle. We should be treated as equals."
"We'll never be equal, dear. Not here. This is the Crown Colony of Hong Kong."
"That's what everyone tells me. How long are we expected to stay away?"
"Oh, half an hour or so. There's no set time. Have you known Quillan Gornt long?"
"Tonight was the first time I'd met him," Casey said.
"He's—he's not welcome in this house," Penelope said.
"Yes, I know. I was told about the Christmas party."
"What were you told?"
She related what she knew.
There was a sharp silence. Then Penelope said, "It's not good for strangers to be involved in family squabbles, is it?"
"No." Casey added, "but then all families squabble. We're here, Line and I, to start a business—we're hoping to start a business with one of your big companies. We're outsiders here, we know that— that's why we're looking for a partner."
"Well, dear, I'm sure you'll make up your mind. Be patient and be cautious. Don't you agree, Kathren?" she asked her sister-in-law.
"Yes, Penelope..Yes I do." Kathren looked at Casey with the same level gaze that Dunross had. "I hope you choose correctly, Casey. Everyone here's pretty vengeful."
"Why?"
"One reason's because we're such a closely knit society, very interrelated, and everyone knows everyone else—and almost all their secrets. Another's because hatreds here go back generations and have been nurtured for generations. When you hate you hate with all your heart. Another's because this is a piratical society with very few curbs so you can get away with all sorts of vengeances. Oh yes. Another's because here the stakes are high—if you make a pile of gold you can keep it legally even if it's made outside the law. Hong Kong's a place of transit—no one ever comes here to stay, even Chinese, just to make money and leave. It's the most different place on earth."
"But the Struans and Dunrosses and Gornts have been here for generations," Casey said.
"Yes, but individually they came here for one reason only: money. Money's our god here. And as soon as you have it, you vanish, European, American—and certainly the Chinese." "You exaggerate, Kathy dear," Penelope said. "Yes. It's still the truth. Another reason's that we live on the edge of catastrophe all the time: fire, flood, plague, landslide, riots. Half our population is Communist, half Nationalist, and they hate each other in a way no European can ever understand. And China—
China can swallow us any moment. So you live for today and to hell with everything, grab what you can because tomorrow, who knows? Don't get in the way! People are rougher here because everything really is precarious, and nothing lasts in Hong Kong."