"Where's your Mr. Bartlett now?" he asked.

"In in the garden, I think."

Dunross said, "Last time I saw him he was on the terrace. Adryon was with him. Why?"

Gornt took out a gold cigarette case and offered it to her.

"No thank you," she said. "I don't smoke."

"Does it bother you if I do?"

She shook her head.

Gornt lit a cigarette and looked at Dunross. "I'd just like to say hello to him, before I leave," he said pleasantly. "I hope you don't mind me coming for just a few minutes if you'll excuse me I won't stay for dinner. I have some pressing business to attend toa you understand."

"Of course." Dunross added, "Sorry you can't stay."

Neither man showed anything in his face. Except the eyes. It was in their eyes. Hatred. Fury. The depth shocked her. "Ask Ian Dunross to show you the Long Gallery," Gornt was saying to her. "I hear there're some fine portraits there. I've never been in the Long Gallery only the billiard room." A chill went down her spine as he looked again at Dunross who watched him back.

"This meeting this morning," Casey said, thinking clearly now, judging it wise to bring everything out in front of Dunross at once. "When was it arranged?"

"About three weeks ago," Gornt said. "I thought you were his chief executive, I'm surprised he didn't mention it to you."

"Line's our tai-pan, Mr. Gornt. I work for him. He doesn't have to tell me everything," she said, calmer now. "Should he have told me, Mr. Gornt? I mean, was it important?"

"It could be. Yes. I confirmed, formally, that we can better any offer Struan's can make. Any offer." Gornt glanced back at the tai-pan. His voice hardened a fraction. "Ian, I wanted to tell you, personally, that we're in the same marketplace."

"Is that why you came?"

"One reason."

"The other?"

"Pleasure."

"How long have you known Mr. Bartlett?"

"Six months or so. Why?"

Dunross shrugged, then looked at Casey and she could read nothing from his voice or face or manner other than friendliness. "You didn't know of any Rothwell-Gornt negotiations?"

Truthfully she shook her head, awed by Bartlett's skillful longrange planning. "No. Are negotiations in progress, Mr. Gornt?"

"I would say yes." Gornt smiled.

"Then we shall see, won't we," Dunross said. "We shall see who makes the best deal. Thank you for telling me personally, though there was no need. I knew, of coupe, that you'd be interested too. There's no need to belabor that."

"Actually there's a very good reason," Gornt said sharply. "Neither Mr. Bartlett nor this lady may realize how vital Par-Con is to you. I felt obliged to make the point personally to them. And to you. And of coupe to offer my congratulations."

"Why vital, Mr. Gornt?" Casey asked, committed now.

"Without your Par-Con deal and the cash flow it will generate, Struan's will go under, could easily go under in a few months."

Dunross laughed and those few who listened covertly shuddered and moved their own conversations up a decibel, aghast at the thought of Struan's failing, at the same time thinking, What deal? Par-Con? Should we sell or buy? Struan's or Rothwell-Gornt?

"No chance of that," Dunross said. "Not a chance in helll"

"I think there's a very good chance." Gornt's tone changed. "In any event, as you say, we shall see."

"Yes, we will meanwhilea" Dunross stopped as he saw Claudia approaching uneasily.

"Excuse me, tai-pan," she said, "your personal call to London's on the line."

"Oh thank you." Dunross turned and beckoned Penelope. She came over at once. "Penelope, would you entertain Quillan and Miss Tcholok for a moment. I've got a phone call Quillan's not staying for dinner he has pressing business." He waved cheerily and left them. Casey noticed the animal grace to his walk.

"You're not staying for dinner?" Penelope was saying, her relief evident though she tried to cover it.

"No. I'm sorry to inconvenience you arriving so abruptly, after declining your kind invitation. Unfortunately ~ can't stay."

"Oh. Thena would you excuse me a moment, I'll be back in a second."

"There's no need to worry about us," Gornt said gently. "We can look after ourselves. Again, sorry to be a nuisance you're looking marvelous, Penelope. You never change." She thanked him and he willed her away. Gratefully she went over to Claudia Chen who was waiting nearby.

"You're a curious man," Casey said. "One moment war, the next great charm."

"We have rules, we English, in peace and war. Just because you loathe someone, that's no reason to curse him, spit in his eye or abuse his lady." Gornt smiled down at her. "Shall we find your Mr. Bartlett? Then I really should go."

"Why did you do that? To the tai-pan? The battle challenge the 'vital' bit. That was the formal gauntlet, wasn't it? In public."

"Life's a game," he said. "All life's a game and we English play it with different rules from you Americans. Yes. And life's to be enjoyed. Ciranoush what a lovely name you have. May I use it?"

"Yes," she said after a pause. "But why the challenge now?"

"Now was the time. I didn't exaggerate about your importance to Struan's. Shall we go and find your Mr. Bartlett?"

That's the third time he's said your Mr. Bartlett, she thought. Is that to probe, or to needle? "Sure, why not?" She turned for the garden, conscious of the looks, overt and covert. of the other guests, feeling the danger pleasantly. "Do you always make dramatic entrances like this?"

Gornt laughed. "No. Sorry if I was abrupt, Ciranoush if I distressed you."

"You mean about your private meeting with Linc? You didn't. It was very shrewd of Linc to approach the opposition without my knowledge. That gave me a freedom of action that otherwise I'd not have had this morning."

"Ah, then you're not irritated that he didn't trust you in this?"

"It has nothing to do with trust. I often withhold information from Linc, until the time's ripe, to protect him. He was obviously doing the same for me. Linc and I understand one another. At least I think I understand him."

"Then tell me how to finalize a deal."

"First I have to know what you want. Apart from Dunross's head."

"I don't want his head, or death or anything like that just an early demise of their Noble House. Once Struan's is obliterated we become the Noble House." His face hardened. "Then all sorts of ghosts can sleep."

"Tell me about them."

"Now's not the time, Ciranoush, oh no. Too many hostile ears. That'd be for your ears only." They were out in the garden now, the gentle breeze grand, a fine night sky overhead, star filled. Linc Bartlett was not on this terrace so they went down the wide stone steps through other guests to the lower one, toward the paths that threaded the lawns. Then they were intercepted.

"Hello, Quillan, this's a pleasant surprise."

"Hello, Paul. Miss Tcholok, may I introduce you to Paul Havergill? Paul's presently in charge of the Victoria Bank."

"I'm afraid that's very temporary, Miss Tcholok, and only because our chief manager's on sick leave. I'm retiring in a few months."

"To our regret," Gornt said, then introduced Casey to the rest of this group: Lady Joanna Temple-Smith, a tall, stretched-faced woman in her fifties, and Richard Kwang and his wife Mai-ling.

"Richard Kwang's chairman of.the Ho-Pak, one of our finest Chi- nese banks."

"In banking we're all friendly competitors, Miss, er, Miss, except of course for Blacs," Havergill said.

"Sir?" Casey said.

"Blacs? Oh that's a nickname for the Bank of London, Canton and Shanghai. They may be bigger than we are, a month or so older, but we're the best bank here, Miss, era"

"Blacs're my bankers," Gornt said to Casey. "They do me very well. They're first-class bankers."

"Second-class, Quillan."

Gornt turned back to Casey. "We've a saying here that Blacs consists of gentlemen trying to be bankers, and those at the Victoria are bankers trying to be gentlemen."

Casey laughed. The others smiled politely.

"You're all just friendly competition, Mr. Kwang?" she asked.

"Oh yes. We wouldn't dare oppose Blacs or the Victoria," Rich- ard Kwang said amiably. He was short and stocky and middle-aged with gray-flecked black hair and an easy smile, his English perfect. "I hear Par-Con's going to invest in Hong Kong, Miss Tchelek."

"We're here to look around, Mr. Kwang. Nothing's firm yet." She passed over his mispronunciation.

Gornt lowered his voice. "Just between ourselves, I've formally told both Bartlett and Miss Tcholok that I will better any offer Struan's might make. Blacs are supporting me one hundred percent. And I've friendly bankers elsewhere. I'm hoping Par-Con will consider all possibilities before making any commitment."

"I imagine that would be very wise," Havergill said. "Of course Struan's does have the inside track."

"Blacs and most of Hong Kong would hardly agree with you," Gornt said.

"I hope it won't come to a clash, Quillan," Havergill said. "Struan's is our major customer."

Richard Kwang said, "Either way, Miss Tchelek, it would be good to have such a great American company as Par-Con here. Good for you, good for us. Let's hope that a deal can be found that suits Par-Con. If Mr. Bartlett would like any assistancea" The banker produced his business card. She took it, opened her silk handbag and offered hers with equal dexterity, having come prepared for the immediate card exchanging that is good manners and obligatory in Asia. The Chinese banker glanced at it then his eyes narrowed.

"Sorry I haven't had it translated into characters yet," she said. "Our bankers in the States are First Central New York and the California Merchant Bank and Trust Company." Casey mentioned them proudly, sure the combined assets of these banking giants were in excess of 6 billions. "I'd be gl " She stopped, startled at the sudden chill surrounding her. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes and no," Gornt said after a moment. "It's just that the First Central New York Bank's not at all popular here."

"Why?"

Havergill said disdainfully, "They turned out to be a shower that's, er, English for a bad lot, Miss, er, Miss. The First Central New York did some business here before the war, then expanded in the mid-forties while we at the Victoria and other British institutions were picking ourselves off the floor. In '49 when Chairman Mao threw Chiang Kai-shek off the Mainland to Taiwan, Mao's troops were massed on our border just a few miles north in the New Territories. It was touch and go whether or not the hordes would spill over and overrun the Colony. A lot of people cut and ran, none of us of course, but all the Chinese who could got out. Without any warning, the First Central New York called in all their loans, paid off their depositors, closed their doors and fled all in the space of one week."

"I didn't know," Casey said, aghast.

"They were a bunch of yellow bastards, my dear, if you'll excuse the expression," Lady Joanna said with open contempt. "Of course, they were the only bank that scarpered ran away. But then they werea well, what can you expect, my dear?"

"Probably better, Lady Joanna," Casey said, furious with the VP in charge of their account for not warning them. "Perhaps there were mitigating circumstances. Mr. Havergill, were the loans substantial?"

"At that time, very, I'm afraid. Yes. That bank ruined quite a lot of important businesses and people, caused an enormous amount of grief and loss of face. Still," he said with a smile, "we all benefited by their leaving. A couple of years ago they had the effrontery to apply to the financial secretary for a new charter!"

Richard Kwang added jovially, "That's one charter that'll never be renewed! You see, Miss Tchelek, all foreign banks operate on a : ~.

renewable yearly charter. Certainly we can do very well without that one, or for that matter any other American bank. They're sucha well, you'll find the Victoria, Blacsor the Ho-Pak, perhaps all three Miss K.C., can fulfill all Par-Con's needs perfectly. If you and Mr. Bartlett would like to chata"

"I'd be glad to visit with you, Mr. Kwang. Say tomorrow? Initially I handle most of our banking needs. Maybe sometime in the morning?"

"Yes, yes of course. You'll find us competitive," Richard Kwang said without a flicker. "At ten?"

"Great. We're at the V and A, Kowloon. If ten's not good for you just let me know," she said. "I'm pleased to meet you personally too Mr. Havergill. I presume our appointment for tomorrow is still in order?"

"Of course. At four, isn't it? I look forward to chatting at length with Mr. Bartletta and you, of course, my dear." He was a tall, lean man and she noticed his eyes rise from her cleavage. She dismissed her immediate dislike. I may need him, she thought, and his bank.

"Thank you," she said with the right amount of deference and turned her charm on Lady Joanna. "What a pretty dress, Lady Joanna," she said, loathing it and the row of small pearls that circled the woman's scrawny neck.

"Oh, thank you, my dear. Is yours from Paris too?"

"Indirectly. It's a Balmain but I got it in New York." She smiled down at Richard Kwang's wife, a solid, well-preserved Cantonese lady with an elaborate coiffure, very pale skin and narrow eyes. She was wearing an immense imperial jade pendant and a seven-carat diamond ring. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kwang," she said, awed by the wealth that the jewelry represented. "We were looking for Linc Bartlett. Have you seen him?"

"Not for a while," Havergill volunteered. "I think he went into the east wing. Believe there's a bar there. He was with Adryon Dunross's daughter."

"Adryon's turned out to be such a pretty girl," Lady Joanna said. "They make such a nice couple together. Charming man, Mr. Bartlett. He's not married, is he, dear?"

"No," Casey said, equally pleasantly, adding Lady Joanna Temple-Smith to her private list of loathsome people. "Line's not married."

"He'll be gobbled up soon, mark my words. I really believe Adryon's quite smitten. Perhaps you'd like to come to tea on Thursday, my dear? I'd love you to meet some of the girls. That's the day of our Over Thirty Club."

"Thank you," Casey said. "I don't qualify but I'd love to come anyway."

"Oh I'm sorry, dear! I'd presumeda I'll send a car for you. Quillan, are you staying for dinner?"

"No, can't. Got pressing business."

"Pity." Lady Joanna smiled and showed her bad teeth.

"If you'll excuse us just want to find Bartlett and then I have to leave. See you Saturday." Gornt took Casey's arm and guided her away.

They watched them leave. "She's quite attractive in a common sort of way, isn't she?" Lady Joanna said. "Chuluk. That's Middle European, isn't it?"