After a moment Sinders said, "Pity these methods have to be used. Very dicey. Disgusting really. I preferred it whena well, even then, I suppose our profession was never really clean."

"You mean during the war?"

"Yes. I must say I preferred it then. Then there was no hypocrisy on the part of some of our leaders or the media. Everyone understood we were at war. But today when our very survival's threatened we " Sinders stopped, then pointed. "Look, Roger, isn't that Rosemont?" The American was standing with another man by the exit door.

"Yes, yes it is. That's Langan with him. The FBI man," Crosse said. "Last night I agreed to a joint effort with him on Banastasio though I do wish those bloody CIA'd leave us alone to do our job."

"Yes. They really are becoming quite difficult."

Crosse picked up the CB and led the way outside. "Stanley, we've got him well covered. We agreed last night that on this operation we handle this part, you handle the hotel. Right?"

"Sure, sure, Rog. 'Morning, Mr. Sinders." Grim-faced, Rosemont introduced Langan who was equally taut. "We're not interfering, Rog, though that bum is one of our nationals. That's not the reason we're here. I'm just seeing Ed off."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Langan said. He was as tired and gaunt as Rosemont. "It's those photocopies, Rog. Thomas K. K. Lim's papers. I've got to deliver them personally. To the Bureau. I read part to my chief and his pots blew and he began to come apart at the seams."

"I can imagine."

"There's a request on your desk to let us have the originals and th"

"No chance," Sinders said for Crosse.

Langan shrugged. "There's a request on your desk, Rog. Guess your brass'll send orders from heaven if ours really need them. I'd better get on board. Listen, Rog, we can't thank you enough. We I owe you one. Those bastardsa yeah we owe you one." They shook hands and he hurried off onto the tarmac.

"Which piece of information blew the seams Mr. Rosemont?"

"They're all lethal, Mr. Sinders. It's a coup fo; us, for us and the Bureau, mostly the Bureau. Ed said his folk went into hysterics. The political implications for Democrats and Republicans are immense. You were right. If Senator Tillman the presidential hopeful who's in town right now if he got hold of those papers, there's no telling what he'd do." Rosemont was no longer his usual good-humored self. "My brass telexed our South American contacts to put an all-points on Thomas K. K. Lim so we'll be interviewing him pretty damn soon you'll get a copy don't worry. Rog, was there anything else?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"With these choice pieces, were there others we could use?"

Crosse smiled without humor. "Of course. How about a blueprint for financing a private revolution in Indonesia?"

"Oh Jesusa"

"Yes. How about photostats of arrangements for payments into a French bank account of a very important Vietnamese lady and gentleman for specific favors granted?"

Rosemont had gone chalky. "What else?"

"Isn't that enough?"

"Is there more?"

"For chrissake, Stanley, of course there's more, you know it, we know it. There'll always be more."

"Can we have them now?"

Sinders said, "What can you do for us?"

Rosemont stared at them. "Over lunch we'll ta"

The CB crackled into life. "The target's got his bags now and he's walking out of Customs, heading for the taxi ranka Now he'sa Now he'sa ah, someone's meeting him, a Chinese, goodlooking man, expensive clothes, don't recognize hima They're going over to a Rolls, registration HKa ah, that's the hotel limousine. Both men're getting in."

Into the sender Crosse said, "Stay on this frequency." He switched frequencies. Static and muffled traffic and noise.

Rosemont brightened. "You bugged the limo?" Crosse nodded. "Great, Rog. I'dtve missed that!"

They listened, then clearly, "a good of you to meet me, Vee Cee," Banastasio was saying. "Hell you shouldn't've come all this wa"

"Oh it's my pleasure," the cultured voice replied. "We can chat in the car, perhaps that'll save you coming to the office and then in Ma"

"Surea sure," the American voice overrode the other man. "Listen, I got something for you, Vee Ceea" Muffled sounds then a sudden high-pitched whine that totally dominated the airwave, completely obliterating the clarity and voices. At once Crosse switched frequencies but the others were operating perfectly.

"Shit, he's using a portable shaver to block us," Rosemont said disgustedly. "That bastard's a pro! Fifty to a blown cent they block all the bugs we got, hundred says when they come back on this channel it'll all be goddamn chitchat. I told you Banastasio was cream."

63 - 10:52 A.M.:.

"Tai-pan, Dr. Samson calling from London. He's on line three."

"Oh thank you, Claudia." Dunross punched the button. "Hello, Doctor. You're up late."

"I've just come back from the hospital sorry not to call before. You were calling about your sister, Mrs. Gavallan?"

"Yes. How is she?"

"Well, sir, we've begun another stringent series of tests. Mentally, I must say she's in very good shape. I'm afraid physically not so gooda"

Dunross listened with a sinking heart as the doctor went into detail about multiple sclerosis, how no one really knew much about it, that there was no known cure and that the disease went in descending plateaus once some deterioration of the nerve structure had taken place it was not possible with present medications to climb back to the previous level. "I've taken the liberty of calling in Professor Klienberg from the clinic at UCLA in Los Angeles for a consultation he's the world expert on the disease. Please rest assured we will do everything we can for MM. Gavallan."

"It doesn't sound as if you can do anything at all."

"Well, it's not quite as bad as that, sir. If Mrs. Gavallan takes care, rests, and is sensible, she can have a normal life for many years."

"How long is many years?" Dunross heard the long hesitation. Oh Kathy, poor Kathy!

"I don't know. Many times this sort of problem's in the hands of God, Mr. Dunross. Patients do not follow the same time patterns. In Mrs. Gavallan's case I could answer you better in six months, perhaps by Christmas. Meanwhile, I have taken her on as a National Health patient so then"

"No. She should be a private patient, Dr. Samson. Please send all bills to my office."

"Mr. Dunross, there's no difference in the quality of service I give to her. She just has to wait a little while in my waiting room and be in a ward, not a private room at the hospital."

"Please make her a private patient. I would prefer it, so would her husband."

Dunross heard the sigh and hated it. "Very well," the doctor was saying. "I have all your numbers and I'll call you the instant Professor Klienberg has made his examination and the tests are concluded."

Dunross thanked him and replaced the phone. Oh Kathy, poor dear Kathy.

Earlier when he had got up at dawn he had talked to her and to Penelope. Kathy had said how much better she felt and how Samson was most encouraging. Penn had told him later that Kathy was looking very tired. "It doesn't seem very good, Ian. Is there any chance you could come here for a week or two before October 10?"

"Not at the moment, Penn, but you never know."

"I'm going to take Kathy to Avisyard as soon as she gets out of the hospital. Next week at the latest. She'll be better there. The land will make her better, don't worry, Ian."

"Penn, when you get to Avisyard, would you go out to the Shrieking Tree for me?"

"What's the matter?"

He heard the concern in her voice. "Nothing, darling," he told her, thinking about Jacques and Phillip Chen how can I explain about them? "Nothing particular, just more of the same. I just wanted you to say hello to our real Shrieking Tree."

"Our Jacaranda there's no good?"

"Oh yes, she's fine, but not the same. Perhaps you should bring a cutting back to Hong Kong."

"No. Better we leave it where it is. Then you have to come home, don't you, Ian?"

"Can I make a bet for you this afternoon?"

Again a pause. "Ten dollars on the horse you choose. I'll back your choice. I'll always back your choice. Call me tomorrow. Love youa 'bye."

He remembered the first time she had said, I love you, and then, later, when he had asked her to marry him, all the refusals and then eventually, through shattering tears, the real reason: "Oh Christ, Ian, I'm not good enough for you. You're upper class, I'm not. The way I talk now, I acquired. It was because I was evacuated at the beginning of the war to the country my God I'd only been outside London twice in my whole life- till then, just to the seaside. I was evacuated to a wonderful old manor house in Hampshire where all the other girls were from one of your fine upperclass schools, Byculla was its name. There was a mix-up, fan, my whole school went somewhere else, just me to Byculla, and it was only then that I found I talked different, differently there, you see I still forget sometimes! Oh God, you've no idea how awful it was to find out so young thata that I was common and talked common and that there are such limitless differences in England, the way we tally the way we talk so important!

"Oh how I worked to imitate the others. They helped me and there was one teacher who was so wonderful to me. I hurled myself into the new life, theirs, and I swore to better myself and never go back, never, never, never, and I won't. But I can't marry you, my darling let's just stay lovers I'll never be good enough."

But in time, her time, they had married. Granny Dunross had persuaded her. Penelope had agreed but only after going out to the Shrieking Tree, alone. She had never told him what she had said.

I'm lucky, Dunross thought. She's the best wife a man could have.

Since coming back from the track at dawn he had worked stead- ily. Half a hundred cables. Dozens of international phone calls. Countless locals. At 9:30 he had called the governor about Tiptop's proposal. "I'll have to consult the minister," Sir Geoffrey had said. "The earliest I could call him would be four this afternoon. This must be kept entirely secret, Ian. Dear oh dear, Brian Kwok must be very important to theml"

"Or perhaps just another convenient concession for the money."

"Ian, I don't think the minister will agree to a trade."

"Why?"

"Her Majesty's Government might consider it a precedent, a bad one. I would."

"The money's vital."

"The money's A temporary problem. Precedents unfortunately last forever. You were at the track?"

"Yes sir."

"How's the form?''

"They all looked in fine fettle. AlexiTravkin says Pilot Fish's our main opposition and the going will be soft. Noble Star's grand though she's never raced in the wet."

"Will it rain?"

"Yes. But perhaps we'll be lucky, sir."

"Let's hope so. Terrible times, Ian. Still, these things are sent to try us, eh? Are you going to John's funeral?"

"Yes sir."

"So am I. Poor fellowa"

At the funeral this morning Dunross had said kind words about John Chen for the face of the House of Chen and for all the Chen forebears who had served the Noble House so long and hard.

"Thank you, tai-pan," Phillip Chen had said simply. "Again, I'm sorry."

Later he had said to Phillip Chen privately, "Sorry is sorry but that still doesn't help us extricate ourselves from the trap your son, and you, put us into. Or solve bloody Four Fingers and the third coin."

"I know, I know!" Phillip Chen had said, wringing his hands. "I know, and unless we can get the stock back up we're ruined, we're all ruined! Oh kin after you'd announced the boom I bought and bought and now we're ruined."

Dunross had said sharply, "We've got the weekend, Phillip. Now listen to me, damnit! You will claim every favor you're owed. I want Lando Mata and Tightest Tung's backing by Sunday midnight. At least 20 million."

"But, tai-pan, don"

"If I don't get that by Sunday midnight, have your resignation on my desk by 9:00 A.M., you're no longer compradore, your son Kevin's out and all your branch is out forever and I'll choose a new compradore from another branch."

Now he exhaled heavily, hating that Phillip Chen and John Chen and probably Jacques deVille had betrayed their trust. He went to the coffee tray and poured himself some coffee. Today it did not taste good to him. The phones had been incessant, most of the calls about the looming collapse of the market, the banking system. Havergill, Johnjohn, Richard Kwang. Nothing from Tightest or Lando Mata or Murtagh. The only bright spot had been his call to Hi David MacStruan in Toronto: "David, I want you here for a conference on Monday. Can you g " He had been swamped by the bellow of joy.

"Tai-pan, I'm on my way to the airport. Goo"

"Hang on, David!" He had explained his plan about transferring Jacques to Canada.

"Och, laddie, if you do that I'm your slave forever!"

"I'm going to need more than slaves, David," he had said care- fully.

There was a long pause and the voice on the other end hardened. "Anything you want, tai-pan, you've got. Anything."

Dunross smiled, warmed by the thought of his distant cousin. He let his eyes drift out of the windows. The harbor was misted, the sky low and dark but no rain yet. Good, he thought, so long as it doesn't rain til] after the fifth race. After four o'clock it can rain. I want to smash Gornt and Pilot Fish and oh God let First Central come up with my money, or Lando Mata or Tightest or Par-Con! Your bet's covered, he told himself stoically, every way you can. And Casey? Is she setting me up like Bartlett? And like Gornt? What abouta The intercom clicked on. "Tai-pan, your eleven o'clock appointment's here."

"Claudia, come in a second." He took an envelope out of his drawer with the $1,000 in it and gave it to her. "Betting money, as promised."

"Oh thank you, tai-pan." There were care lines in her jolly face and shadows under the smile.

"You're in Phillip's box?"

"Oh yes. Yes, Uncle Phillip invited me. Hea he seems very upset," she said.