"I've never been more so. Chih-Nii works for the Green Gang. You know this, Sunny. For Du Yen Sheng." She whispered the name of the overlord of Shanghai's criminal world. "Du is a sworn enemy of the Communists. He gets along better with the j.a.panese. His men would skin this man alive." She paused and squinted. "Unless . . ."

"What is it, Jia-Li?"

"No one were ever to find out that he is a Communist."

Sunny remembered how Joey treated Charlie like a matinee idol. "I am afraid that's not possible. Someone is bound to recognize him."

"Why? Who is he?"

"Bao Chun."

Jia-Li's eyes grew wide. "The Boy General? That Bao Chun?"

"Yes."

"He's a national hero."

"But he's also a Communist."

"Yes, yes. We could never keep him here."

Despondent, Sunny rose from the couch. "I will have to look elsewhere."

"If it's of any help to you, I might be able to arrange to get the general out of Shanghai."

"Perhaps. I will see." Sunny smiled gratefully. "As if I haven't already burdened you enough, could I visit Simon now, bao bei?"

Ushi insisted on taking Sunny down to the cellar himself. He led her into the wine cellar, then slid down the tight pa.s.sageway like a crab and into the concealed room.

Simon threw his arms around Sunny, almost knocking her to the ground. "Oh, Sunny!" he cried as he righted her. "Next to a visit from Esther and my boy, it doesn't get better than this. You ready to see a grown man bawl?"

Simon was clean-shaven and smelled fresh, but he had lost so much weight that his eyes were sunken and his Semitic nose more prominent than ever. "You look well, Simon. Thin but well."

He shook his head. "And you look more gorgeous than ever. I'm not only saying that because I've been trapped down here forever with only men. Though G.o.d knows you do make a nice change of scenery."

Sunny glanced around, but Ushi had already vacated the room, and no one else was in sight.

Simon motioned to another door. "The others are behind there. We're not supposed to have visitors, but if we do, the rest stay out of sight." He wiggled his fingers in a give-me gesture. "Please, Sunny, tell me about Esther and my boy."

"They are well. Every morning Jakob seems to have grown more. And he smiles now. He's so adorable, Simon."

Beaming, Simon dug his fingers into his shirt pocket and extracted a weathered photograph. He studied it for a moment before reluctantly handing it over to her. Franz had taken the photo. In the black-and-white shot, a smiling Esther held a wide-eyed Jakob up to the camera with both hands. Sunny remembered that Franz, who usually preferred to photograph buildings, had used his last roll of film on the shoot. At the time, she had wondered why her husband had insisted on snapping so many photographs. Now she understood.

Sunny returned the photo to Simon. "Picture Jakob with your big smile and you'll know what he looks like today."

Simon's grin faded. "I am sick of picturing it, Sunny. I want to be with them. To hold my baby. To just smell him. And I want to kiss my wife again." He screwed up his face. "Is that so much to ask?"

It really wasn't, but Sunny couldn't muster the right words in reply. Instead, she only shook her head.

Simon studied the cement floor. "I have to get out of here."

"Soon, perhaps."

"Not soon. Today."

"You're not thinking with your head."

"I don't care, Sunny. I'm going to leave."

"The police will be looking for you."

"Then I will change the way I look. I'll grow a beard or shave my head or put on some old gla.s.ses. h.e.l.l, I'll even throw on a bamboo hat and pull a rickshaw if I have to. Whatever it takes."

"What about Esther and the baby?"

"Don't worry. I won't come near your home or the hospital. I wouldn't endanger Essie or my son like that. Not ever again." He swallowed loudly. "But even if it means only seeing them from across the road. Even if they don't know I'm there." He tapped the pocket that held his photograph. "It would still be a thousand times better than just looking at this."

"Where will you go?"

He shrugged. "I know people."

Sunny paused, then squinted at him. "You might have to stay here for a few more days."

"Why?" Simon grabbed her arm excitedly. "What is it?"

"There is someone who can help us."

CHAPTER 16.

Franz had hardly slept and, according to the night nurse, neither had Charlie. Around midnight, the injured man had begun to tremble violently, as though he were having a seizure. His temperature spiked, and the fever didn't break until sunrise. All the while, Charlie refused more painkillers.

Franz slipped between the curtains surrounding Charlie's bed to find the young general locked in an urgent conversation with Ernst. His complexion was tinged grey and his face drenched in perspiration. Still, Charlie greeted Franz with a stoic smile.

Ernst looked up, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. His beard was still scraggly, but his hair had been combed back and his suit was less rumpled. "Ah, Franz. Good morning. Everyone survived the night. Isn't that a delicious little miracle?"

"Every morning." Franz turned to the patient. "How does the leg feel, Charlie?"

"Less painful. Perhaps I will be able to stand on it soon?"

"Good, yes. Hopefully." Franz found it difficult to hold the man's gaze. "May I have a look under the dressing?"

Charlie nodded. Franz pulled up the sheet and gently removed the bandages from the wound. The redness around Charlie's knee had lessened and the skin was less painfully taut, but the fresh surgical wounds puckered. Their black edges troubled Franz. They did not look promising, especially without further surgery. He loosely rolled the bandages back into place, feeling like more of a fraud than a doctor.

"What is your opinion?" Charlie asked.

"The wound has a long way to go," Franz said in a circ.u.mspect tone.

"Don't we all?" Ernst studied the cigarette he now held between his fingers. "My last smoke until G.o.d knows when I find some more. I hear they last longer when you don't light them."

Franz cleared his throat. "Charlie, are you still keen to leave Shanghai?"

Ernst shook his head in dismay. "What nonsense is this? He is in no shape to leave the hospital. You were clear about that yesterday."

"That was yesterday," Franz mumbled weakly.

Charlie studied the ceiling for a pained moment, then nodded. "I think it would be for the best, yes."

"Look at you!" Ernst cried. "You're the colour of a storm cloud. We will never get you home."

"We can try," Charlie said.

Ernst turned angrily to Franz, shaking a finger at him. "Was ist pa.s.siert? Why the change of heart?"

"People recognize Charlie."

Ernst's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Which people?"

"Joey."

"Can you not trust the boy?"

"Of course we can trust him. But he recognized Charlie straight away. Others will too. He is too well known to keep hidden here."

"Ah." Ernst nodded bitterly. "So you are no longer willing to risk the exposure."

"This is not only about me," Franz said evenly.

Ernst was about to respond when Charlie propped himself up. He gasped from the effort and swayed from side to side but held himself upright. As soon as he caught his breath, he turned to Ernst. "The doctor would be a fool not to send me away," he snapped with sudden authority. "And I would be an even bigger fool to stay. I would never risk a whole company for the sake of one fallen man. It is no different for Dr. Adler and this hospital."

"You are not just any man," Ernst pointed out.

"They have removed the bullet," Charlie said firmly. "It was the only reason you persuaded me to come, Ernst. It is time to go."

Franz reached into the pocket of his lab coat, dug out a bottle of antibiotic pills and pa.s.sed it over to Charlie. "Sulpha medicine. To help keep the infection in check. You will need to take one tablet three times a day until they are gone."

Charlie accepted the bottle with a shaky hand. It contained the last of the hospital's antibiotic supply, but to Franz this was little more than a token gesture. "Thank you, Doctor," Charlie said.

"This is b.l.o.o.d.y lunacy," Ernst muttered. "Can you not see it?"

"I am leaving, Ernst," Charlie said. "It is decided."

"What is decided?" Sunny asked from behind the curtains. She pushed them apart and stepped inside. Jia-Li followed her in before the drapes fell closed behind them both.

Exasperated, Ernst looked from Franz to Charlie and back. "These two agree that Charlie is far too hale and hearty to waste any more time in hospital."

"No one said that," Franz said quietly.

"There are risks either way," Sunny said, giving Franz a supportive look that did little to alleviate his conscience.

"A pleasure to see you again, Ernst," Jia-Li said.

Ernst extended his hand to her. "Ah, well, if it isn't my saviour herself."

Charlie viewed him quizzically. "Your saviour?"

Ernst nodded. "Last year, when the Kempeitai were scouring Shanghai for Shan and me, this . . . this vision arranged for two rather shady-or perhaps 'colourful' is the word-characters to whisk us out of the city in the dead of night."

"Lum and Vu colourful? Never." Jia-Li laughed. "Shady, yes, but not colourful."

"Oh, Jia-Li, how I wish I had my brushes." Ernst sighed. "I've painted you in my head a thousand times since I last laid eyes on you."

"I am not sure whether or not to take that as a compliment."

"Why not?"

"The only subjects of yours that I am aware of are the wild pheasants," Jia-Li said, referring to the lowest cla.s.s of dockside prost.i.tutes. Ernst's portraits of the wretched young women had made his reputation in the pre-war Shanghai art scene. "And the victims of the Nanking ma.s.sacre, of course."

Ernst brushed her comment away with a flip of his wrist. "I'm done with all that. I've seen more than enough ugliness for a lifetime. Next time I paint-if there is a next time-I will capture only beauty and light on the canvas."

Jia-Li glanced over at Charlie. "Ernst, will you not introduce me to your friend?"

"How rude!" Ernst gasped. "A year away from civilization and I've lost all my manners. As though raised by wolves. Jia-Li, allow me to introduce Charlie."

Jia-Li approached the bed. Her huge brown eyes lit up. "Ko Jia-Li." She added several words in Chinese.

Charlie wiped his brow with his sleeve and chuckled. "So you are responsible for sending Ernst to our village," he replied in English.

Jia-Li nodded to Franz and Sunny. "I only arranged the truck. The rest is their doing."

"Then I hold you all equally responsible," Charlie said as he lowered himself back onto the mattress, exhausted.

Sunny laid a hand on his elbow. "Charlie, we thought Jia-Li might help arrange your transport out of Shanghai."

"That would be most helpful," Charlie said. "My men can meet me outside the city, but for them to travel inside is somewhat of a challenge."

"A challenge?" Ernst groaned. "Suicide, more like it. Only blind luck got us through the j.a.panese soldiers on the way in."

As he studied Charlie's wan complexion, Franz doubted that anything could be more of a threat to the man's well-being than his near-gangrenous leg. He felt small for keeping the thought to himself.

"I would be honoured to a.s.sist you." Jia-Li bit her lip, appearing uncharacteristically bashful. "You do so much for China."