"Are you having trouble with your water mains?" she asked, holding her anger down.

"No, I don't think so," Gavallan said, startled.

"Well, there's no water. Didn't you know?"

"Of course there's no Oh!" He stopped. "You're staying at the V and A soa Didn't anyone tell you about the water shortage?"

They all began talking at once but Gavallan dominated them.

"The V and A has its own water supply so do a couple of other hotels but the rest of us're on four hours of water every fourth day, so you've got to use a pail. Never occurred to me you didn't know. Sorry."

"How do you manage? Every fourth day?"

Yes. For four hours, 6:00 A.M. till 8:00 A.M., then 5:00 till 7:00 in the evening. It's a frightful bore because of course it means we've got to store four days' supply. Pails, or the bath, whatever you can. We're short of pails it's our water day tomorrow. Oh my God, there was water for you, wasn't there?"

"Yes, buta You mean the water mains are turned off? Everywhere?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes," Gavallan said patiently. "Except for those four hours every fourth day. But you're all right at the V and A. As they're right on the waterfront they can refill their tanks daily from lighters of course, they have to buy it."

"You can't shower or bathe?"

Linbar Struan laughed. "Everyone gets pretty grotty after three days in this heat but at least we're all in the same sewer. Still it's survival training to make sure there's a full pail before you go."

"I had no idea," she said, aghast that she had used three pails.

"Our reservoirs are empty," Gavallan explained. "We've had almost no rain this year and last year was dry too Bloody nuisance but there you are. Just one of those things. Joss."

"Then where does your water come from?"

They stared at her blankly. "From China of course. By pipes over the border into the New Territories, or by tanker from the Pearl River. The government's just chartered a fleet of ten tankers that go up the Pearl River, by agreement with Peking. They bring us about 10 million gallons a day. It'll cost the government upwards of 25 million for this year's charter. Saturday's paper said our consump- tion's down to 30 million gallons a day for our 3~ million population that includes industry. In your country, one person uses 150 gallons a day, so they say."

"It's the same for everyone? Four hours every fourth day?"

"Even at the Great House you use a pail." Gavallan shrugged again. "But the tai-pan's got a place at Shek-O that has its own well. We all pile over there when we're invited, to get the slime off."

She thought again of the three pails of water she had used. Jesus, she thought, did I use it all? I don't recall if there's any left.

"I guess I've a lot to learn," she said.

Yes, they all thought. Yes, you bloody have.

"Tai-pan?"

"Yes, Claudia?" Dunross said into the intercom.

"The meeting with Casey's just broken for lunch. Master Andrew is on line four. Master Linbar's on his way up."

"Cancel him till after lunch. Any luck on Tsu-yan?"

"No sir. The plane landed on time at 8:40. He's not at his office in Taipei. Or his flat. I'll keep trying, of course. Another thing, I've just had an interesting call, tai-pan. It seems that Mr. Bartlett went to Rothwell-Gornt this morning and had a private meeting with Mr. Gornt."

"Are you sure?" he asked, ice in his stomach suddenly.

"Yes, oh very yes."

Bastard, Dunross thought. Does Bartlett mean me to find out? "Thanks," he said, putting the question aside for the moment, but very glad to know. "You've got a thousand dollars on any horse on Saturday."

"Oh thank you, tai-pan."

"Back to work, Claudia!" He punched the number four button. "Yes, Andrew? What's the deal?"

Gavallan told him the important part.

"20 million in cash?" he asked with disbelief.

"In marvelous, beautiful U.S. cash!" Dunross could feel his beam down the phone. "And when I asked when Bartlett would confirm the deal the little scrubber had the bloody cheek to say, 'Oh it's confirmed now I can commit up to 20 million on this deal without consulting him or anyone.' Do you think that's possible?"

"I don't know." Dunross felt a little weak in the knees. "Bartlett's due any moment. I'll ask."

"Hey, tai-pan, if this goes througha"

But Dunross was hardly listening as Gavallan ran on ecstatically. It's an unbelievable offer, he was telling himself.

It's too good. Where's the flaw?

Where's the flaws Ever since he had become tai-pan he had had to maneuver, lie, cajole and even threaten Havergill of the bank for one far more than ever he had expected, to stay ahead of the disasters he had inherited, and the natural and political ones that seemed to be besetting the world. Even going public had not given him the capital and time he had expected because a worldwide slump had ripped the markets to pieces. And last year in August, Typhoon Wanda had struck, leaving havoc in her wake, hundreds dead, a hundred thousand homeless, half a thousand fishing boats sunk, twenty ships sunk, one of their three thousand tanners ashore, their giant half-completed wharf wrecked and their entire building program smashed for six months. In the fall the Cuban crisis and more slump. This spring de Gaulle had vetoed Britain's entry into the Common Market and more slump. China and Russia quarreling and more slumpa And pow I've almost got 20 million U.S. but I think we're somehow involved in gun-running, Tsu-yan's apparently on the run and John Chen's God knows where!

"Christ all sodding mighty!" he said angrily.

"What?" Gavallan stopped, aghast, in midflow. "What's up?"

"Oh nothing nothing, Andrew," he said. "Nothing to do with you. Tell me about her. What's she like?"

"Good at figures, fast and confident, but impatient. And she's the best-looking bird I've seen in years, with potentially the best pair of knockers in town." Gavallan told him about the bets. "I think Linbar's got the inside track."

"I'm going to fire Foster and send Linbar down to Sydney for six months, get him to sort everything out there."

"Good idea." Gavallan laughed. "That'll stop his farting in church though they say the ladies Down Under are very accommodating."

"You think this deal will go through?"

"Yes. Phillip was ecstatic about it. But it's shitty dealing through a woman and that's the truth. Do you think we could bypass her and deal with Bartlett direct?"

"No. He was quite clear in his correspondence that K. C. Tcholok was his chief negotiator."

"Oh wella into the breach and all that! What we do for the Noble House!"

"Have you found her weak spot?"

"Impatience. She wants to 'belong' to be one of the boys. I'd say her Achilles' heel is that she desperately wants acceptance in a man's world."

"No harm in wanting that like the Holy Grail. The meeting with Dawson's set for eleven tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Get Dawson to cancel it, but not until nine tomorrow morning. Tell him to make an excuse and reset it for Wednesday at noon."

"Good idea, keep her off balance, what?"

"Tell Jacques I'll take that meeting myself."

"Yes, tai-pan. What about John Chen? You'll want him there?" After a pause Dunross said, "Yes. Have you seen him yet?"

"No. He's expected for lunch you want me to chase him?"

"No. Where's Phillip?"

"He went home. He's coming back at 2:30."

Good, Dunross thought, and tabled John Chen until that time. "Listena" The intercom buzzed. "Just a minute, Andrew." He punched the hold. "Yes, Claudia?"

"Sorry to interrupt, tai-pan, but I've got your call to Mr. Jen in Taipei on line two and Mr. Bartlett's just arrived downstairs."

"Bring him in as soon as I'm through with Jen." He stabbed line four again. "Andrew, I may be a couple of minutes late. Host drinks and that sort of thing for me. I'll bring Bartlett up myself."

"Okay."

Dunross stabbed line two. "Tsaw an, " he said in Mandarin dialect How are you? glad to talk to Wei-wei's uncle, General Jen Tang-wa, deputy chief of the illegal Kuomintang secret police for Hong Kong.

"Shey-shey, " then in English, "What's up, tai-pan?"

"I thought you should knowa" Dunross told him briefly about the guns and Bartlett, that the police were involved, but not about Tsu-yan or John Chen.

"Ayecyah! That's very curious indeed." - "Yes. I thought so too. Very curious."

"You're convinced it's not Bartlett?"

"Yes. There appears to be no reason. None at all. It'd be stupid to use your own plane. Bartlett's not stupid," Dunross said. "Who'd need that sort of armament here?"

There was a pause. "Criminal elements."

"Triads?"

"Not all triads are criminals."

"No," Dunross said.

"I'll see what I can find out. I'm sure it's nothing to do with us, Ian. Are you still coming Sunday?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll see what I can find out. Drinks at 6:00 P.M.?"

"How about eight o'clock? Have you seen Tsu-yan yet?"

"I thought he wasn't due until the weekend. Isn't he making up our foursome on Monday with the American?"

"Yes. I heard he caught an early flight today." Dunross kept his voice matter-of-fact.

"He's sure to call you want him to phone?"

"Yes. Anytime. It's nothing important. See you Sunday at eight."

"Yes, and thanks for the information. If I get anything I'll phone at once. 'Bye."

Dunross put the phone down. He had been listening very carefully to the tone of Jen's voice but he had heard nothing untoward. Where the hell's Tsu-yan?

A knock.

"Come in." He got up and went to meet Bartlett. "Hello." He smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Ian Dunross."

"Line Bartlett." They shook hands firmly. "Am I too early?"

"You're dead on time. You must know I like punctuality." Dunross laughed. "I heard the meeting went well."

"Good," Bartlett replied, wondering if Dunross meant the Gornt meeting. "Casey knows her facts and figures."

"My fellows were most impressed she said she could finalize things herself. Can she, Mr. Bartlett?"

"She can negotiate and settle up to 20 million. Why?"

"Nothing. Just wanted to find out your form. Please sit down we've a few minutes yet. Lunch won't begin till 12:40. It sounds as though we may have a profitable enterprise in front of us."

"I hope so. As soon as I've checked with Casey, perhaps you and I can get together?"

Dunross looked at his calendar. "Tomorrow at ten. Here?"

"You're on."

"Smoke?"

"No thanks. I quit a few years back."

"So did I still want a cigarette though." Dunross leaned back in his chair. "Before we go to lunch, Mr. Bartlett, there're a couple of minor points. I'm going to Taipei oil Sunday afternoon, will be back Tuesday in time for dinner, and I'd like you to come along.

There're a couple of people I'd like you to meet, a golf match you might enjoy. We could chat leisurely, you could see the potential plant sites. It could be important. I've made all the arrangements, but it's not possible to take Miss Tcholok."

Bartlett frowned, wondering if Tuesday was just a coincidence. "According to Superintendent Armstrong I can't leave Hong Kong."