“Bad joss, plenty,” Struan said.
“Never mind. You plenty young, plenty new cow chillo. Your one piece cow chillo May-may. Why Tai-Pan have got ony one bull chillo? Tai-Pan wantshee med’cine maybe. Have got.”
“When wantshee, I ask,” Struan said affably. “Hear Jin-qua have got new bull chillo. What number son this?”
“Ten and seven,” Jin-qua said, beaming.
Great God, Struan thought. Seventeen sons—and probably the same number of daughters, which Jin-qua does na count. He bowed his head and whistled in appreciation.
Jin-qua laughed. “How muchee tea-ah wantshee this season?”
“Trade stop. How can trade?”
Jin-qua winked. “Can.”
“Doan knowa. You sell Brock. When I wantshee tea-ah I tell you, heya?”
“Must knowa two days.”
“No can.”
Jin-qua said something sharply to his servant, who went to one of the mildewed packing cases and removed the lid. It was full of silver bullion. Jin-qua motioned at the other packing cases. “Here forty lac dolla.”
A lac was approximately twenty-five thousand pounds sterling. Forty lacs was a million sterling.
Jin-qua’s eyes slitted even more. “I borrow. Werry hard. Werry expensee. You want? Jin-qua lend, maybe.”
Struan tried to conceal his shock. He knew there would be a hard deal attached to any loan. He knew that Jin-qua must have gambled his life and his soul and his house and his future and that of his friends and his sons to amass so much bullion secretly. The bullion had to be secret or the Hoppo would have stolen it and Jin-qua simply would have disappeared. If news leaked into the pirate and bandit nests that abounded in or near Canton that there was even a hundredth part of so much treasure close at hand, Jin-qua would have been obliterated.
“Many lac dolla,” Struan said. “Man dooa fav’r must return fav’r.”
“Buy this year double tea-ah last year, same price last year. Can?”
“Can.”
“Sell double opium this year same price last year. Can?”
“Can.” Struan would pay over market price for the tea and would have to sell the opium at less than the present market price, but he would still make a vast profit. If the other conditions are possible, he reminded himself. Perhaps he was not finished after all. If Jin-qua did not want the mandarin. Struan said a silent prayer that a mandarin was not part of the deal. But he knew that if there was no mandarin on Hong Kong there could be no Co-hong. And if there was no Co-hong and no monopoly, Jin-qua and all the other merchants would be out of business. They had to have the system too.
“Only buy Jin-qua or Jin-qua son ten year. Can?”
Great God, Struan thought, if I give him a monopoly on the house, he can squeeze us at will. “Can—when tea price, silk price all same other Co-hong.”
“Twenty year. Market price add ten p’cent.”
“Plus five p’cent—add five p’cent. Can.”
“Eight.”
“Five.”
“Seven.”
“Five.”
“Seven.”
“No can. No profit. Too plenty muchee,” Struan said.
“Ayee yah. Too much plenty profit. Seven!”
‘Ten year six p’cent—ten year five p’cent.”
“Ayee yah,” Jin-qua replied hotly. “Bad, plenty bad.” He waved a frail hand at the chests. “Huge cost! Big interest. Werry muchee. Ten year six, ten year five, add new ten year five.”
Struan wondered if the anger was real or pretended. “Suppose no Jin-qua, no Jin-qua son?”
“Plenty son—plenty son of son. Can?”
“New ten year add four p’cent.”
“Five.”
“Four.”
“Bad, bad. Werry high interest, werry. Five.”
Struan kept his eyes off the bullion but could feel it surrounding him. Dinna be a fool. Take it. Agree to anything. You’re safe, laddie. You’ve everything.
“Mandarin Ti-sen say one mandarin Hong Kong,” Jin-qua said abruptly. “Why you say no?”
“Jin-qua doan like mandarin, heya? What for I like mandarin, heya?” Struan replied, a knot in his stomach.
“Forty lac dolla, one mandarin. Can?”
“No can.”
“Plenty easy. Why for you say no can? Can.”
“No can.” Struan’s eyes never wavered. “Mandarin no can.”
“Forty lac dolla. One mandarin. Cheep.”
“Forty times ten lac dolla no can. Die first.” Struan decided to bring the bargaining to an end. “Finish,” he said harshly. “By my fathers, finish.” He got up and walked for the door.
“Why for goa?” Jin-qua asked.
“No mandarin—no dolla. Why talk, heya?”
To Struan’s astonishment Jin-qua cackled and said, “Ti-sen want mandarin. Jin-qua no lend money belong Ti-sen. Jin-qua lend Jin-qua money. Add new ten year five p’cent. Can?”
“Can.” Struan sat down again, his head dizzy.
“Five lac dolla buy Jin-qua land in Hong Kong. Can?”
Why? Struan asked himself helplessly. If Jin-qua lends me the money, he must know that the Co-hong’s finished. Why should he destroy himself? Why buy land in Hong Kong?
“Can?” Jin-qua said again.
“Can.”
“Five lac dolla keep safe.” Jin-qua opened a small teak box and took out two chops. The chops were small square sticks of ivory two inches long. The old man deftly held them together and dipped the ends, which were intricately carved, into the solid ink and made a chop mark on a sheet of paper. Jin-qua gave Struan one of the chops and put the other back in the box. “Man bring this piece chop, give land and dolla, five lac, savvy?”
“Savvy.”
“Nex’ year I send one my bull chillo Hong Kong. You send all same your son school Lond’n. Can?”
“Can.”
“Your bull chillo, Gord’n Chen. Good? Bad maybe?”
“Good chillo. Chen Sheng say plenty good think-think.” Obviously Struan was supposed to do something with Gordon Chen. But why and how did Gordon fit into Jin-qua’s machinations? “I think-think give Gord’n maybe bigger job.”
“What for bigger job?” Jin-qua said contemptuously. “Think you lend one lac dolla Chen bull chillo.”
“What inter’st?”
“Half profit.”
Profit on what? Struan felt that Jin-qua was playing him like a fish. But you’re off the hook, laddie, he wanted to shout. You’ll get the bullion wi’out the mandarin. “Can.”
Jin-qua sighed and Struan assumed that the deal was concluded. But it was not. Jin-qua put his hand into his sleeve pocket and brought out eight coin halves and put them on the table. Each of four coins had been crudely broken in two. With one of his fingernail protectors Jin-qua pushed a half of each coin across the table. “Last. Four fav’r. Man bring one thees, you grant fav’r.”
“What fav’r?”
Jin-qua leaned back in his chair. “Doan knowa, Tai-Pan,” he said. “Four fav’r sometime. Not my life maybe, son maybe. Doan knowa when, but ask four fav’r. One half coin fav’r. Can?”
Sweat chilled Struan’s shoulders. Agreeing to such a demand was an open invitation to disaster. But if he refused, the bullion was lost to him. You put your head into a devil trap, he told himself. Aye, but make up your mind. Do you want the future or na? You’ve known Jin-qua for twenty years. He’s always been fair. Aye, and the shrewdest man in Canton. For twenty years he’s helped you and guided you—and together you’ve grown in power and riches. So trust him; you can trust him. No, you canna trust any man, least of all Jin-qua. You’ve prospered with him only because you’ve always held the last card. Now you’re asked to give Jin-qua four jokers in your pack of life and death.