"Ah, that's one of our local pirates Four Finger Wu. The girl's Venus Poon, a local TV star. The youth talking to them is his nephew. Actually the rumor is that he's a son. The fellow's got a Harvard business degree and a U.S. passport and he's as smart as a whip. Old Four Fingers is another multimillionaire, rumored to be a smuggler, gold and anything, with one official wife, three cones of various ages and now he's after Venus Poon. She was Richard Kwang's current. Was. But perhaps now with the Victoria takeover she'll dump Four Fingers and go back to him. Four Fingers lives on a rotten old Aberdeen junk and hoards his enormous wealth. Ah, look there! The wrinkled old man and woman the tai-pan's talking to."

She followed his glance to the next box but one.

"That's Shitee T'chung's box," he said. "Shitee's a direct descendent of May-may and Dirk through their son Duncan. Did the tai-pan ever show you Dirk's portraits?"

"Yes." A small shiver touched her as she remembered the Hag's knife jammed through the portrait of her father, Tyler Brock. She considered telling him about it but decided not to. "There's a great likeness," she said.

"There certainly ist Wish I could see the Long Gallery. Anyway, that old couple he's talking to live in a tenement, a two-room, sixth-floor walk-up over in Glessing's Point. They own a huge block of Struan stock. Every year before each annual board meeting, the tai-pan, whoever he is, has to go cap in hand to ask for the right to vote the stock. It's always granted, that was part of the original agreement, but he still has to go personally."

"Why's that?"

"Face. And because of the Hag." A flicker of a smile. "She was a great lady, Casey. Oh how I would like to have met her! During the Boxer revolt in 1899-1900, when China was in another of her conflagrations, the Noble House had all its possessions in Peking, Tiensin, Foochow and Canton wiped out by the Boxer terrorists who were more or less sponsored and certainly encouraged by Tz'u Hsi, the old dowager empress. They called themselves the Righteous Harmonious Fists and their battle cry was 'Protect the Chting and kill all foreign devils"' Let's face it, the European powers and Japan had pretty much partitioned China. Anyway, the Boxers fell on all foreign business houses, settlements, the unprotected areas, and obliterated them. The Noble House was in terrible straits. At that time the nominal tai-pan was again old Sir Lochlin Struan he was Robb Struan's last son, born with a withered arm. He was tai-pan after Culum. The Hag had appointed him when he was eighteen, just after Culum died then again after Dirk Dunross and she'd kept him tied to her apron strings till he died in 1915 at the age of seventy-two."

"Where do you get all this information, Peter?"

"I make it up," he said grandly. "In any event, the Hag needed a lot of money fast. Gornt's grandfather had bought up a lot of Struan's paper and he had lowered the boom. There was no normal source of finance, nowhere she could borrow, for all Asia all the hangs were equally in turmoil. But that fellow's father, the father of the one the tai-pan's talking to, was the King of the Beggars in Hong Kong. Begging used to be a huge business here. Anyway, this man came to see her, so the story goes. 'I come to buy a fifth part of the Noble House,' this man said with great dignity, 'is it for sale? I offer 200,000 taels of silver,' which was exactly the amount she needed to redeem her paper. For face they haggled and he settled for a tenth, 10 percent an incredibly fair deal both knowing that he could have had 30 or 40 percent for the same amount because by that time the Hag was desperate. He required no contract other than her chop and her promise that once a year she, or the tai-pan, would come to him or his descendants wherever he or they lived, to ask for the vote of the stock. 'So long as the tai-pan asks the voting power is given.'

"'But why, Honorable King of the Beggars? Why save me from my enemies?' she asked.

"'Because your grandfather, old Green-Eyed Devil, once saved my grandfather's face and helped him become the first King of the Beggars of Hong Kong.'"

Casey sighed. "Do you believe that, Peter?"

"Oh yes." He looked out at Happy Valley. "Once this was all a malarial swamp. Dirk cleaned that up too." He puffed his cigarette. "One day I'll write about Hong Kong."

"If you continue to smoke you'll never write anything."

"Point well taken. Okay, I'll stop. Now. For today. Because you're pretty." He stubbed the cigarette out. Another smile, different. "Eeeee, but I could tell some stories about lots of the people you met today. I won't, that's not fair, not right. I can never tell the real stories, though I know lotsl" She laughed with him, letting her eyes wander from the strange old couple down to the other stands. Involuntarily she gasped. Sitting in the lee of the members' balcony she saw Orlanda. Linc was with her. He was very close. Both were very happy together, that was easy to see, even from this distance.

"What's th " Peter Marlowe began, then he saw them too. "Ohl Not to worry."

After a pause she took her eyes away. "Peter, that favor. May I ask for that favor, now?"

"What do you want as a favor?"

"I want to know about Orlanda."

"To destroy her?"

"For protection. Protection for Linc against her."

"Perhaps he doesn't want to be protected, Casey."

"I swear I'll never use it unless I honest to God feel it's nieces sary ,, The tall man sighed. "Sorry," he said with great compassion, "but nothing I could tell you about her would give you or Linc protect -tion. Nothing to destroy her or make her lose face. Even if I could I wouldn't, Casey. That really wouldn't be cricket. Would it?"

"No, but I'm still asking." She stared back at him, forcing the issue. "You said a favor. I came when you needed a hand. I need a hand now. Please."

He watched her a long time. "What do you know about her?"

She told him what she had learned about Gornt supporting Orlanda, Macao, about the child.

"Then you know everything I know, except perhaps that you should be sorry for her."

"Why?t'

"Because she's Eurasian, alone, Gornt her only support and that's as precarious as anything in the world. She's living on a knife edge. She's young, beautiful and deserves a future. Here there's none for her."

"Except Linc?"

"Except Linc or someone like him." Peter Marlowe's eyes were slate color. "Perhaps that wouldn't be so bad from his point of view."

"Because she's Asian and I'm not?"

Again the curious smile. "Because she's a woman and so are you but you hold all the cards, and the only real thing you have to decide is if you really want that war."

"Level with me, Peter, please. I'm asking. What's your advice? I'm running scared there, I'll admit it to you. Please?"

"All right, but this isn't the favor I owe you," he said. "Rumor has it you and Linc are not lovers though you obviously love him. Rumor has it you've been together for six or seven years in close proximity but with noa no formal contact. He's a terrific fellow, you're a terrific lady and you'd make a great couple. The key word is couple, Casey. Maybe you want money and power and Par-Con more than you do him. That's your problem. I don't think you can have both."

"Why not?"

"It seems to me you choose Par-Con and power and riches and no Bartlett, other than as a friend or you become Mrs. Linc Bartlett and behave and love and be the kind of woman there's no doubt in hell Orlanda would be. Either way you have to be a hundred percent you and Linc are both too strong and probably have tested each other too many times to be fooled. He's been divorced once, so he's on guard. You're over the age of a Juliet blindness so you're equally on guard."

"Are you a psychiatrist too?"

He laughed. "No, nor a father-confessor, though I like to know about people and like to listen but not to lecture and never to give advice that's the most thankless task in the world."

"So there's no compromise?"

"I don't think so, but then I'm not you. You have your own karma. Irrespective of Orlanda if it's not her it'll be another woman, better or worse, prettier though maybe not, because win, lose or draw, Orlanda's quality and has what it takes to make a man content, happy, alive as a man. Sorry, I don't mean to be chauvinistic, but since you asked, I'd advise you to make up your mind quickly."

Gavallan hurried into Shitee T'chung's box and joined the taipan. "Afternoon," he said politely to the old couple. "Sorry, tai-pan, Crosse and the other fellow you wanted had already left."

"Blast!" Dunross thought a second, then excused himself and walked out with Gavallan. "You're coming to the cocktail party?"

"Yes, if you want me there afraid I'm not very good company."

"Let's go in here a second." Dunross led the way into his private room. Tea was laid out and a bottle of Dom Perignon in an ice bucket.

"Celebration?" Gavallan asked.

"Yes. Three things: the General Stores takeover, the Ho-Pak rescue and the dawn of the new era."

"Oh?"

"Yes." Dunross began to open the bottle. "For instance you: I want you to leave for London Monday evening with the children." Gavallan's eyes widened but he said nothing. "I want you to check on Kathy, see her specialist, then take her and the kids to Castle Avisyard. I want you to take over Avisyard for six months, perhaps a year or two. Six months certain take over the whole of the east wing." Gavallan gasped. "You're going to head up a new division, very secret, secret from Alastair, my father, every member of the family including David. Secret from everyone except me."

"What division?" Gavallan's excitement and happiness showed.

"There's a fellow I want you to get close to tonight, Andrew. Jamie Kirk. His wife's a bit of a bore but invite them to Avisyard. I want you to slide into Scotland, particularly Aberdeen. I want you to buy property, but very quietly: factory areas, wharfage, potential airfields, heliports near the docks. Are there docks there?"

"Christ, tai-pan, I don't know. I've never been there."

"Nor have I."

"Eh?"

Dunross laughed at the look on Gavallan's face. "Not to worry. Your initial budget is a million pounds sterling."

"Christ, where the hell's a million coming fr"

"Never mind!" Dunross twisted the cork and held it, deadening the explosion neatly. He poured the pale, oh so dry wine. "You've a million sterling to commit in the next six months. A further 5 million sterling over the next two years."

Gavallan was gaping at him openly.

"In that time I want the Noble House, oh so quietly, to become the power in Aberdeen, with the best land, best influence on the town councils. I want you laird of Aberdeen and as far west as Inverness and south to Dundee. In two years. All right?"

"Yes buta " Gavallan stopped helplessly. All his life he had wanted to quit Asia. Kathy and the children too, but it had never been possible or even considered. Now Dunross had given him Utopia and he could not take it all in. "But why?"

"Talk to Kirk, beguile his wife, and remember, laddie, a closed mouth." Dunross gave him a glass and took one for himself. "Here's to Scotland, the new era and our new fief." Then he added in his most secret heart, And here's to the North Sea! All gods bear witness: The Noble House is implementing Contingency Plan One.

67 - 5:50 P.M.:.

The stands were empty now but for the cleaners, most of the boxes dark. Rain cascaded from the sky, a solid sheet of water. It was near twilight. Traffic was snarled all around the racecourse. The thousands plodded homeward, sodden but light of heart. Next Saturday was another race day and another fifth race and oh oh oh, another challenge and this time the tai-pan will surely ride Noble Star and perhaps Black Beard will ride Pilot Fish and those two devil quad lob will kill themselves for our amusement.

A Rolls going out of the members' entrance splashed some of the pedestrians and they shouted a barrage of obscenities but none of the Chinese really minded. One day I'll have one of those, everyone thought. All I need's just a little fornicating joss. Just a little joss next Saturday and I'll have enough to buy some land or an apartment to rent out, to barter against a piece of a high rise, to mortgage against an acre of Central. Eeee, how I'll enjoy riding in my Rolls with a lucky number plate like that one! Did you see who it was? Taximan Tok who seven years ago drove a ~oo-pi, an illegal taxi, and found 10,000 HK on his backseat one day and hid it for five years till the statute of limitations had passed, then invested it in the stock market in the boom of three years ago to immense profit then took the profit and bought apartments. Eeee, the boom! Remember what Old Blind Tung wrote in his column about the coming boom! But what about the stock market crash and all the bank runs?

Ayeeyah, that's all over! Didn't you hear the astounding news? Great Bank is taking over the Ho-Pak and standing good for all Banker Kwang's debts. Did you hear about the Noble House buying General Stores? Both such good pieces of news announced on race day. That's never happened before! It's odd! Very odd! You don't thinka Fornicate all Gods! Is it all a foul ploy of those dirty foreign devils to manipulate the market to steal our rightful profits? Oh oh oh, I agree! Yes, it must be a foul plot! It's too much fornicating coincidence! Oh those cunning awful barbarians! Thank all gods I realized it so I can prepare! Now what should I doa As they all headed for home their minds were consumed with growing excitement. Most were poorer than when they came to the track, but a few were much richer. Spectacles Wu, the police constable from the East Aberdeen Police station, was one of those. Crosse had allowed him to go to the races though he had to be back by 6:15 P.M. when the client was due to be interviewed again, Spectacles Wu there as interpreter for the Ning-tok dialect. The young man shivered and his Secret Sack chilled at the thought of how quickly the great Brian Kwok had babbled his innermost secrets.

Ayecyah, he thought, filled with superstitious dread. These pink barbarians are truly devils who can twist us civilized people as they wish and send us mad. But if I become SI that'll protect me and give me some of their secrets, and with those secrets and other foreign devil secrets I will become an ancestor!

He began to beam. His joss had changed ever since he had caught that old amah Today the gods had favored him greatly. He had forecast one quinella, the daily double and three place horses, each time reinvesting all his winnings and now he was 5,753 HK richer. His plan for the money was already settled. He would finance Fifth Uncle to buy a used plastic molding machine to begin a plastic flower factory in return for 5 I percent, another 1,000 would pay for the construction of two dwellings in the resettlement to be rented and the last 1,000 would be for next Saturday!

A Mercedes sounded its horn deafeningly, making him jump. Spectacles Wu recognized one of the men in the back: the man Rosemont, the CIA barbarian with limitless funds to spend. So naive, they are, the Americans, he thought. Last year when his relations had poured over the border in the exodus, he had sent them all down to the consulate on a roster basis, every month a different name and different story, to join the constant and evergrowing band of rice Christians or, to be more exact, rice non- Communists. It was easy to get free meals and handouts from the U.S. Consulate. All you had to do was to pretend to be frightened and say, nervously, that you had just come over the border, that you were staunchly against Chairman Mao and that in your village the Communists did such and such a terrible thing. The Americans would be happy to hear about PRC troop movements, real or imagined. Oh how quickly they would write it all down and ask for more. Any information, any stupid piece of information you could pick up if you could read a newspaper was to them if whispered with rolling eyes very valuable.

Three months ago Spectacles Wu had had a brainstorm. Now, with four members of his clan, one of whom was originally a journalist on a Communist newspaper in Canton, Spectacles Wu had offered but through trusted intermediaries so he and his relations could not be traced to supply Rosemont with a monthly undercover report, an intelligence pamphlet, code name "Freedom Fighter," on conditions across the Bamboo Curtain in and around Canton. To prove the espionage quality Spectacles Wu had offered to supply the first two editions free to catch a mighty tiger it is good business to sacrifice a stolen lamb. If these were considered acceptable to the CIA, the fee would be 1,000 HK each for the next three, and if these were equally valuable, then a new contract would be negotiated for a year of reports.

The first two had been so highly praised that an immediate deal was struck for five reports at 2,000 HK each. Next week they were to get their first fee. Oh how they had congratulated themselves. The content of the reports was culled from thirty Canton newspapers that came down on the daily Canton train that also brought pigs and poultry and foods of all kinds and could be purchased without effort in Wanchai paper shops. All they had had to do was to read them meticulously and copy the articles, after removing the Communist dialectic: articles about crops, building, economics, Party appoint- ments, births, deaths, sentences, extortions and local color anything they considered of interest. Spectacles Wu translated the stories the others picked.

He felt a huge wave of pleasure. Freedom Fighter had enormous potential. Their costs were almost nil. "But sometimes we must be careful to make a few mistakes," Spectacles Wu had told them, "and occasionally we must miss a month 'we regret our agent in Canton was assassinated for giving away State secretsa' " Oh yes. And soon, when I'm a full member of SI and a trained espionage agent, I'll know better how to present the press information to the CIA. Perhaps we'll expand and experiment with a report from Peking, another from Shanghai. We can get day-old Peking and Shanghai papers equally with no trouble and very little investment. Thank all gods for American curiosity!

A taxi honked as it splashed past. He stopped a moment to allow it to pass, then shoved through, careless of the cursing, honking and noise alongside the tall fence that skirted the stadium. He glanced at his watch. He had plenty of time. Headquarters was not far away.

The rain became heavier but he did not feel it, the warmth of winnings in his pocket lightening his footsteps. He squared his shoulders. Be strong, be wise, he ordered himself. Tonight I must be alert. Perhaps they will ask my opinion. I know the Communist Superintendent Brian Kwok is a liar here and there and exaggerating. And as to atomics, what's so important about that? Of course the Middle Kingdom has its own atomics. Any fool knows what's been going on for years in Sinkiang near the shores of Lake Bosteng-hu. And of course, soon we'll have our own rockets and satellites. Of course! Are we not civilized? Did we not invent gunpowder and rockets but discard them millennia ago as barbaric?

Throughout the stadium on the other side of the fence, women cleaners raked up the sodden leavings of the thousands, patiently sifting the rubbish carefully for a lost coin or ring, fountain pen or bottles that were worth a single copper cash. Crouched beside a pile of garbage cans in the lee of the rain was a man.

"Come on, old fellow, you can't sleep there," a woman cleaner said, not unkindly, shaking him. "It's time to go home!" The old man's eyes fluttered open for an instant, he began to get up but stopped, gave out a great sigh and subsided like a rag doll.

"Ayeeyah, " One Tooth Yang muttered. She had seen enough of death throughout her seventy years to recognize its finality. "Hey, Younger Sister," she called out politely to her friend and second member of her team. "Come over here! This old man's dead."

Her friend was sixty-four, bent and lined but equally strong and also Shanghainese. She came out of the rain and peered down. "He looks like a beggar."

"Yes. We'd better tell the foreman." One Tooth Yang knelt and carefully went through his ragged pockets. There were 3 HK in change, nothing else. "That's not much," she said. "Never mind." She divided the coins equally. Over the years they had always divided what they found.

"What's that in his left hand?" the other woman asked. One Tooth bent the clawlike hand open. "Just some tickets." She peered at them, then held them close to her eyes and flicked through them. "it's the double quinellaa" she began, then suddenly cackled, "lleee, the poor fool got the first leg and lost the seconda he chose Butterscotch Lass!" Both women laughed hysterically at the mischief of the gods.

"That must have sent the poor old ancient into the seizure it would me! Ayeeyah, to be so close and yet so far, Elder Sister."

"Joss." One Tooth Yang cackled again and tossed the tickets into a garbage can. "Gods are gods and men are men but see, I can imagine the old fellow dying. I would have too!" The two old women laughed again, the bad joss hurting them and the older one rubbed her chest to ease the pain. "Ayecyah, I must get a physic. Go and tell the foreman about him. Younger Sister, eeee, but I'm tired tonight. Such bad joss, he was close to being a millionaire but now? Joss! Go tell the foreman. I'm tired tonight," she said again, leaning on her rake, her voice wavering.

The other woman went off marveling at the gods and how quickly they can give or take away if they exist at all, she thought in passing. Ah joss!

Wearily One Tooth Yang continued her work, her head aching, but the moment she was sure she was alone and unobserved she darted for the garbage can and frantically retrieved the tickets, her heart pounding like never in her whole life. Frantically she checked that her eyes had not deceived her and the numbers were correct. But there was no mistake. Each ticket was a winning ticket. Equally frantically she stuffed them in her pocket then made absolutely sure she had not left one carelessly in the rubbish. Quickly she piled more rubbish on top and lifted this can and dumped it into another, all the time her mind shrieking, Tomorrow I can redeem the tickets, I have three days to redeem them! Oh bless all gods, I'm rich I'm rich I'm rich! There must be a hundred or two hundred tickets and each a 5 HK ticket, each ticket pays 265 HKa if there's a hundred tickets that's 26,500 HK, if two hundred tickets 53,000 HKa Feeling faint, she squatted beside the corpse, leaning against the wall, not noticing it. She knew she dare not count the tickets now, there was no time. Every second was vital. She had to prepare. "Be cautious, old fool," she muttered aloud, then once more almost went into panic. Stop talking aloud! Be careful, you old fool, or Younger Sister will suspecta Oh oh oh is she now telling the foreman what she suspects? Oh what shall I do? The joss is mine, I found the old mana ayeeyah, what shall I do? Perhaps they'll search me. If they see me in this state they're bound to suspecta Her head was pounding terribly and a wave of nausea went through her. Nearby were some toilets. She groped to her feet and hobbled over to them. Behind her, other cleaners were sifting and tidying up. Tomorrow they would all come again for there would still be plenty to do. Her own shift was due back at nine in the morning. In the empty toilet room she took out the tickets, her fingers trembling, wrapped them in a piece of rag and found a loose brick in the wall and put them behind the brick.

Once safely outside she began to breathe. When the foreman came back with the other old woman he peered down at the man, went through his pockets with great care and found a twist of silver paper they had missed. Within it was a pinch of White Powder. "It will bring 2 HK," he said, knowing it was worth 6.04 HK. "We will split it, 70 for me and 30 for you two." For face, One Tooth argued and they settled that he would try to get 3.10 HK for it, and would split it 60 to him and 40 to them. Satisfied, he went away.

When they were alone again the younger woman began to sift the garbage.

"What're you doing?" One Tooth asked.

"I just wanted to check those tickets, Elder Sister. Your eyes are not so good."

"Please yourself," One Tooth said with a shrug. "I've picked this lot dean. I'm going over there." Her gnarled finger pointed at an unnoticed new source of virgin rubbish under a row of seats. The other woman hesitated then followed and now One Tooth almost chortled with glee, knowing she was safe. Tomorrow I'll come back complaining of stomach sickness. I can retrieve my fortune and go home. Now what shall I do with my wealth?

First the down payment on two quad lob dancing dresses for Third Granddaughter in return for half her earnings in the first year. She'll make a fine whore in the Good Luck Dance Hall. Next, Second Son will stop being a coolie on the construction site up on Kotewall Road. He and Fifth Nephew and Second Grandson will become builders, and within the week we will put a down payment on a plot of land and begin to build a buildinga "You seem very happy, Elder Sister."

"Oh yes I am, Younger Sister. My bones ache, the ague is with me as ever, my stomach is upset, but I am alive and that old man is dead. It is a lesson from the gods. All gods bear witness, when I first saw him, the first time, I thought it was my husband who died in our flight from Shanghai fifteen years ago. I thought I was seeing a ghost! My spirit almost left me for that old man was like his twin!"

"Ayeeyah, how horrible! How terrible! Ghosts! All gods protect us from ghosts!"

Oh yes, the old woman thought, ghosts're terrible. Now, where was I? Oh yesa 1,000 will go on the quinella next Saturday. And out of those winnings I will buya I will buy myself a set of false teeth! Eeeee, how wonderful that will be, she wanted to cry out, almost fainting with suppressed pleasure. All her life, all her life since she was fourteen when a Manchu rifle butt had smashed out her teeth in one of the constant revolutions against the foreign Chting Dynasty, she had been nicknamed One Tooth. Always she had hated her nickname. But nowa oh gods bear witness! I will buy a set of teeth from my winnings next Saturday and also I will buy and light two candles in the nearest temple in return for such good joss.

"I feel faint, Younger Sister," she said, really faint with near ecstasy. "Could you get me some water?"

The other woman went off grumbling. One Tooth sat down a moment and allowed herself a huge grin, her tongue feeling her gums. Eeeee, when I win, if I win heavily enough, I will have one gold tooth, right in the center, to remind me. Gold Tooth Yang, that has a nice sound to it, she thought, far too clever to mutter it aloud, even though she was completely alone. Yes, Honorable Gold Tooth Yang, of the Yang Constructions empirea

68 - 6:15 P.M.:.

Suslev was hunched uncomfortably in the front of the small car belonging to Ernie Clinker and they were grinding up the hill. All the windows were steamed up, the rain even heavier. Mud and stones washing down from the steep hillsides made the road surface dangerous. Already they had passed two minor accidents.