"Yes. It seems your police once again are like dog's lungs and wolfs heart. They have falsely arrested a very good friend of yours, Superintendent Brian Kwok. He"

"Brian Kwok?" Dunross gasped. "But why?"

"I understand he's been falsely accused of being a spy for the 'PRC, an"

"Impossible!"

"I agree. Ridiculous! Chairman Mao has no need of capitalist spies. He should be released at once, at once and if he wishes to leave Hong Kong he should be permitted to do so and go wherever he wishes to goa at once!"

Dunross tried to get his mind working. If Tiptop said the man called Brian Kwok was to be released at once and permitted to leave Hong Kong if he wished, then Brian was a PRC spy, one of their spies, and that was impossible impossible impossible. "Ia I don't know what to say," he said, giving Tiptop the opening he required.

"I must point out Old Friends could hardly be expected to con- sider assisting Old Friends when their police are so errored. Heya?"

"I agree," he heard himself saying with the right amount of concern, his mind shouting, Christ almighty, they want to trade Brian for the money! "I'lla I'll talk to the authorities first thing tom"

"Perhaps you could do something tonight."

"It's too late to call the governor now buta" Then Dunross remembered Sinders and Armstrong and his heart leaped. "I'll try. At once. I'm sure there's some mistake, Mr. Tip. Yes. It must be a mistake. In any event I'm sure the governor will be helpful. And the police. Surely such aa a mistake could be handled satisfactorily like the Victoria's request for the temporary use of the illustrious bank's cash?"

There was a long silence. "It's possible that could be done. It's possible. Old Friends should assist Old Friends, and help correct mistakes. Yes, it could be possible."

Dunross heard the unsaid when left hanging and automatically continued the negotiation, most of his mind still beset by what he had been told. "Did you happen to get my note, Mr. Tip? I've taken care of everything else. By the way, the Victoria will certainly assist the financing of the thorium." He added delicately, "Also most other further requests at advantageous terms."

"Ah yes, thank you. Yes, I received your note and your very kind invitation. So sorry that I was unwell. Thank you, tai-pan. How long would your government require the cash loan, if it was possible?"

"I imagine thirty days would be more than enough, perhaps even two weeks. But it's the Victoria, Blacs and the other banks and not the Hong Kong Government. I could tell you that tomorrow. Do we have the privilege of seeing you at the races for lunch?"

"I regret not for lunch but perhaps after lunch, if that's possible."

Dunross smiled grimly. The perfect compromise. "Of course."

"Thank you for calling. By the way, Mr. Yu was most impressed with you, tai-pan."

"Please give him my regards. I look forward to seeing him soon. In Canton."

"I was astonished to read your brother-in-law's comments about the Middle Kingdom."

"Yes. So was I. My wife and her brother have been estranged for years. His views are alien, enemy and totally misguided." Dunross hesitated. "I hope to neutralize him."

"Yes. Yes I agree. Thank you. Good night." The phone went dead.

Dunross hung up. Christ! Brian Kwok! And I'd almost given him the AMG papers. Christ!

Collecting his wits with a great effort, he went back into the foyer. Armstrong and Sinders were still there. "Evening, may I join you a moment?"

"Of course, Mr. Dunross. This is a pleasant surprise. May I offer you a drink?"

"Tea, Chinese tea. Thanks."

Their table was away from others and when it was safe Dunross leaned forward. "Robert, I hear you've arrested Brian Kwok," he said still hoping it wasn't true. The two men stared at him.

"Who told you that?" Armstrong asked.

Dunross recounted his conversation. Both men listened noncom- mittally though from time to time he saw them glance at one an- other. "Obviously it's a trade," he told them. "Him for the cash."

Sinders sipped his hot chocolate. "How important's the money?"

"Completely important, urgent and the sooner the better." Dun- ross mopped his brow. "The cash will completely stop the bank runs, Mr. Sinders. We've got't" He stopped, aghast.

"What is it?" Sinders asked.

"I I suddenly remembered what AMG wrote in the intercepted report. That the 'a police mole may or may not be part of Sevrin.' Is he?"

"Who?"

"For chrissake, don't play with me," Dunross said angrily, "this's serious. You think I'm a bloody fool? There's a Sevrin plant in Struan's. If Brian's part of Sevrin I've a right to know."

"I quite agree," Sinders said calmly though his eyes had become very flinty. 'The moment the traitor's uncovered you may rest assured you'll be informed. Have you any idea who it could be yet?"

Dunross shook his head, controlling his anger.

Sinders watched him. "You were saying? 'We've got toa' Got to what, Mr. Dunross?"

"We've got to get that cash at once. What's Brian done?"

After a moment Sinders said, "Banks don't open till Monday. So Monday's D Day?"

"I imagine the banks will have to get the money before then to open and have the money in the tills. What the devil's Brian done?"

Sinders lit a cigarette for himself and for Armstrong. "If this person Brian actually has been arrested I don't think that's really a very discreet question, Mr. Dunross."

"I'dtve bet anything," the tai-pan said helplessly, "anything, but Tiptop'd never suggest a trade unless it was true. Never. Brian must be bloody important but Christ, what's the world coming to? Will you handle the trade or will Mr. Crosse I suppose the governor's approval will be needed."

Thoughtfully the chief of MI-6 blew the tip of his cigarette. "I doubt if there will be a trade, Mr. Dunross."

"Why not? The money's more impor"

"That's a matter of opinion, Mr. Dunross, if this Brian Kwok actually is under arrest. In any event, Her Majesty's Government could hardly be subject to blackmail. Very poor taste."

"Quite. But Sir Geoffrey will agree at once."

"I doubt it. He impressed me as being much too clever to do that. As to trading, Mr. Dunross, I thought you were going to give us the AMG files."

Dunross felt an ice pick in his stomach. "I did, this evening."

"For chrissake, don't play with me, this's serious! You think I'm a bloody fool?" Sinders said in exactly the same tone that Dunross had used. Abruptly he laughed dryly and continued with the same chilling calm, "You certainly gave us a version of them but unfortunately they just don't compare in quality with the one intercepted." The rumpled man's eyes became even more flinty and curiously menacing though his face did not change. "Mr. Dunross, your subterfuge was deft, commendable but unnecessary. We really do want those files, the originals."

"If those don't satisfy you, why not go through AMG's papers?"

"I did." Sinders smiled without humor. "Well, it's like the old highwayman saying, 'The money or your life.' Possession of those files may be lethal to you. You agree, Robert?"

"Yes sir."

Sinders puffed his cigarette. "So, Mr. Dunross, your Mr. Tiptop wants to trade, eh? Everyone in Hong Kong wants to trade. It's in the air. Eh? But to trade you have to give value for value. I imagine if you want concessions to get concessions from the enemya well, all's fair in love and war, they say. Isn't it?"

Dunross kept his face guileless. "So they say. I'll talk to the governor first thing. Let's keep this strictly confidential for the moment until I've talked to him. Night."

They watched him walk through the swing doors and disappear.

"What do you think, Robert? Did Dunross switch the files on us?"

Armstrong sighed. "I don't know. His face said nothing. I was watching closely. Nothing. But he's as sharp as a tack."

"Yes." Sinders pondered a moment. "So the enemy want a trade, eh? I'd say we have possession of this particular client for twentyfour hours at the most. When do you do his next interrogations'

'6:30 A.M.".

"Oh! Well if you've an early start we'd better be going." Sinders called for the check. "I'll consult with Mr. Crosse but I know what he'll say what in fact London has ordered."

"Sir?"

"They're very concerned because the client's been party to too many secrets, the General Staff Course, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police." Sinders hesitated again. "On second thought, Robert, now irrespective of what Mr. Dunross does our only course is to step up the debriefing. Yes. We'll cancel the 6:30 interrogation, continue with the hourly schedule, providing he's medically fit, and into the Red Room."

Armstrong blanched. "But sia"

"I'm sorry," Sinders said, his voice gentle. "I know he's a friend, was a friend, but now your Mr. Tiptop and your Mr. Dunross have taken away our time."

S A T U R D A Y.

62 - 9:32 A.M.:.

The JAL jet from Tokyo came in low over the sea and touched down perfectly at Kai Tak with a puff of smoke from its wheels. At once its engines went into reverse thrust and it howled toward the airport complex, decelerating.

Passengers, aircrew and visitors were milling in the busy terminal, Customs and Immigration and waiting areas. Outward-bound was easy. Incoming was mostly easy. Except for Japanese nationals Chinese have long memories. The years of the Japanese war occupa- tion of China and Hong Kong were too near, too strong, too vicious to forget. Or to forgive. So Japanese nationals were checked more thoroughly. Even members of the JAL crew now going through, even the pert, pretty, polite air hostesses, some of whom were hardly alive when that occupation had ended, they too were given back their travel documents with a frigid stare. ~ Next to them in line was an American. "'Morning," he said handing his passport to the official.

"'Morning." The young Chinese flipped the book open and glanced at the photograph and at the man and leafed through to fmd the visa. Unnoticed, his foot touched a hidden switch. This alerted Crosse and Sinders who were in a nearby observation office. They went to the one-way mirror and looked at the man waiting at immigration in front of one of the six crowded lines of passengers.

The passport, a year old, said, "Vincenzo Banastasio, mate, born New York City, August 16, 1910. Hair gray, eyes brown." Casually the official checked the other visas and stamps: England, Spun, Italy, Holland, Mexico, Venezuela, Japan. He stamped the dull gray book, handed it back noncommittally.

Banastasio walked through to Customs, an expensive crocodile briefcase under his arm, carrying duty-free liquor in a gaudy plastic carrier, camera swinging off his shoulder.

"Good-looking fellow," Sinders said. "He takes care of himself." They saw him disappear into the crowds. Crosse clicked on the portable CB. "Do you have him covered?" he asked into it.

"Yes sir," came the instant answer.

"I'll keep monitoring this frequency. Keep me advised."

"Yes sir."

To Sinders, Crosse said, "We'll have no problem tailing him."

"No. Glad I've seen him. I always like to see an enemy in the flesh."

"Is hey Enemy?"

"Mr. Rosemont thinks so. Don't you?"

"I meant our enemy. I'm sure he's a crook I meant I'm not sure he's tied into Intelligence."

Sinders sighed. "You've checked the bugs?"

"Yes." Late last night a team of SI experts had secretly put bugs into the bedroom Banastasio had booked at the Hilton. Also the office and private suite of Photographer Ng, Vee Cee Ng.

They waited patiently. On the table the CB hissed and crackled slightly.

After a pause Sinders said absently, "What about our other client?"

"Who? Kwok?"

"Yes. How long do you think it'll take?"

"Not long." Crosse smiled to himself.

"When do you put him into the Red Room?"

"I thought noon might be rather apt. Before if he's ready."

"Armstrong'll do the interrogation?"

"Yes."

"Armstrong's a good man. He handled himself very well at the Canon"

"Next time would you mind keeping me advised? After all, this is my area."

"Certainly, Roger. It was a sudden decision by London."

"What's the idea? About the Sunday summons."

'The minister is sending special instructions." Sinders frowned. "Brian Kwok's records say he's strong. We don't have too much time. He'll've been well indoctrinated to be hidden so deep, so long."

"Oh yes. But I'm quite confident. Since I had the room built I've experimented on myself three times. The most I've ever stayed was five minutes and each time I was sick as a dog and that was without any disorientation scheduling. I'm confident we'll have no problem." Crosse stubbed out his cigarette. "It's very effective an exact pattern of the KGB prototype."