And now the stupid, worthless woman has had the bad joss to catch the incurable. At least, he amended quickly, incurable unless we can track down the drug. And if we can, she’ll get better and our investment in her—and the Tai-Pan—will be insured and there’ll be twenty thousand taels to boot. Then another scrap of information clicked into place and he thought, Ah, so that explains why Gordon Chen sent forty Triad members of the Hong Kong lodge secretly to Macao yesterday. There must be some of the drug here. He wondered what Gordon Chen would say if he told him that his secret “Teacher” had been sent on Jin-qua’s orders—that Jin-qua was the Triad leader of all Kwangtung, and that he, Chen Sheng, was second to Jin-qua. Ah, he told himself, it is very wise to keep secret many things; you never know when someone will slip.
“Tai-Pan chillo littel in house my, werry good, werry happy,” he said jovially. “You wantshee see-ah? Take back Hong Kong?”
“See today. Take back soon. I say werry wen.” Struan had been wondering if he should tell Chen Sheng about May-may.
“Tai-Pan. Your chillo littel good,” Chen Sheng began. “Thinkee best you fetch chow chillo mama ’shore. Make chillo mama happy, can. Werry number one doctor here can. Werry number-one medicine can. Doan troubles. Thinkee medicine here in Macao. Chen Sheng fix plentee werry good.”
“How’d you know she was here, and about the malaria?”
“Wat? No unnerstan’.”
“How you knowa cow chillo my bad sick hav?”
Chen Sheng chuckled to himself, and shrugged. “Knowa all same, never mind.”
“Medicine here? Truth?”
“If here get. I send junk quick-quick to
China Cloud. Bring cow chillo ’shore. Chen Sheng fix.”
He bowed politely and walked out.
Struan went aboard
China Cloud and gave the crew shore leave by watches. Soon Chen Sheng’s junk was alongside. May-may was carefully brought ashore, a Chinese doctor in attendance, and carried to her house that nestled in the hill of Sao Antonio.
The house was clean and staffed with servants, and tea was ready. Ah Sam rushed about officiously and hugged the children, who were waiting in the house with their personal amahs, and propped May-may in the huge bed and brought the children to her. There were tears of happiness and more rushing to and fro, and more shouting, and Ah Sam and May-may were gratified to be home at long last.
The doctor had brought special foods and medicines to increase May-may’s strength and to maintain the strength of the child in her womb, and ordered her to stay in bed.
“I’ll be back soon,” Struan said.
“Good. Thank you, Tai-Pan. Thank you.”
“I’m going to the residence—then perhaps to the Brock house.”
“They are in Macao?”
“Aye. All except Tyler. I thought I’d told you. Do you na remember? Culum and Tess’re here too.”
“Oh yes,” she replied. She remembered what had been arranged with Gordon Chen. “Sorry. I had forget. My head’s all like sieve. Of course I remember now. I’m very gracious glad to be off ship and home. Thank you.”
He went back to the residence. Culum had not returned, so he walked along the
pra
ça to the Brock residence. But neither Tess nor Liza knew where Culum was. Gorth said that the two of them had gone gaming last night at the English Club but that he, Gorth, had left early.
“I’ll see thee to door,” Gorth said. When they were alone by the door, he smiled sardonically, exulting in the sweetness of revenge. “You know how it be—I were visiting a lady. Mayhaps he be visiting likewise. No harm in that, eh? He were winning at cards when I be leaving him, if that be wot’s aworryin’ thee.”
“Nay, Gorth. I’m na worried about that. You know there’re good British laws about murder—a quick trial and a quick noose, whoever it is. Even a prostitute.”
Gorth whitened. “Wot thee mean by that, eh?”
“If someone becomes gallows bait, I’ll be hangman gladly.”
“Be thee threatening me? There be law against that too, by God.”
“If there’s a death—then there’ll be a charge of murder, by God.”
“Doan know wot thee means!” Gorth blustered. “Thee be false accusing me!”
“I’m na accusing you of anything, Gorth. Just reminding you of facts. Aye. I hear that there are two possible witnesses to a possible death—who’d be prepared to talk in court.”
Gorth controlled his panic. That’ll be that godrotting bitch Fortheringill, and that bugger Quance. She were paid enough to keep her tongue quiet. Well, I’ll be dealing with they right smartly if necessary, but it won’t be, ’cause the little bitch won’t die anyways. “I baint afeared of the likes of you—or thy godrotting false accusations.”
“I’m na accusing you, Gorth,” Struan said. He was sorely tempted to provoke the inevitable fight now. But he knew that he would have to wait for Gorth to make the first mistake, to insult him unforgivably in public. Only then could he openly and freely send seconds with a formal challenge and kill him before an audience. Only that way could he avoid a breach of the Culum-Tess match and avoid giving Brock a means to destroy him in the courts of law. For May-may had been right—everyone in Asia knew that he was spoiling to slaughter Gorth. “If you see Culum, please tell him I’m looking for him.”
“Do thy own messengering! I’m not thy lackey. Thee’s Tai-Pan of The Noble House not much longer, by God.”
“Watch your step,” Struan said. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Gorth gorged on the bait. “Nor I, Dirk. I tells thee man to man—watch thy step or I’ll be comin’ after thee.”
Struan walked back to the residence, delighted with himself. Got you hooked, Gorth.
Culum still had not returned. And there was no word from the bishop. Struan told Lo Chum to try to find Culum. He went out into the
pra
ça and turned up the hill toward the cathedral, thence into lesser-known streets, past gracious sidewalk restaurants and colorful umbrellas. He crossed a wide
pra
ça and went through a huge doorway.
The nun at the desk looked up.
“Morning. Do you speak English?” Struan asked.
“A little, senhor.”
“You have a patient. Miss Mary Sinclair. I’m a friend of hers.”
A long pause. “You wish see?”
“Please.”
She motioned to a Chinese nun and talked rapidly to her in Portuguese. Struan followed the Chinese nun down a corridor and up some stairs into Mary’s room.
It was small, filth-stained and rancid, its windows closed tight. A crucifix hung over the bed.
Mary’s face was drained, her smile faint. And suffering had aged her.
“Hello, Tai-Pan.”
“What’s the trouble, Mary?” he asked gently.
“Nothing I don’t deserve.”
“I’ll get you out of this damned place,” Struan said.
“I’m fine, Tai-Pan. They’re very kind to me.”