Brian Freemantle - The Inscrutable Charlie Muffin

‘Why not leave?’

‘Like I said,’ she sniggered, ‘the bed’s clean. And the money is regular.’

‘But not enough?’

‘There’s never enough money… that’s one of Lucky Lu’s favourite expressions.’

Charlie slowly lowered himself into a chair facing the girl, feeling the first tingle of familiar excitement.

‘I hadn’t heard that,’ he encouraged.

‘You’d be amazed, with all the publicity, at the things people haven’t heard about Lucky Lu.’

The entry into the society that everyone said would be denied him? Charlie frowned. He’d always suspected things that came too easily.

‘Like what?’ he prompted.

‘You got money?’ asked the girl.

‘As much as you want,’ offered Charlie, misunderstanding the demand.

She stood, smiling.

‘You spend a lot and you get a lot,’ she promised, walking towards the bedroom.

Charlie remained crouched forward in the chair, momentarily confused. Before Edith’s death, there had been many affairs, the sex sometimes as loveless as that being offered by the woman who had disappeared into the bedroom. But for almost two years there had been a celibacy of grief. He’d always known it would end. But not like this. Mechanically almost. But she had hinted a knowledge about Lu of which even Nelson seemed unaware; a knowledge he’d never learn if he rejected her.

‘I don’t believe you can reach from there,’ she called.

He grimaced at the awkward coarseness, then stood hesitantly, walking towards the bedroom. There was nothing, he realised. No lust. No feeling. Certainly not desire. Just apprehension.

She’d discarded the cheongsam and was sitting back on her heels, near the top of the bed. She’d swept her hair forward again, covering herself except for her breasts, which pouted through like pink-nosed puppies.

‘You only keep your clothes on for short-time. You don’t want a short-time, do you?’

Rehearsed words, he thought. Like prompt cards in a child’s classroom. Would his mother have ever been like this? No, he decided. She wouldn’t have even known the expressions. He was sure she wouldn’t.

Reluctantly he took off his jacket and tie, edging on to the bed.

‘What do you know about Lu?’ he asked. He wouldn’t be able to make love to her, he knew.

She put her hands on his thigh, feeling upwards, then gazing at him, pulling her mouth into an artificially mournful expression.

‘That’s not very flattering for a girl,’ she complained. Immediately there was the prostitute’s smile.

‘We’ll soon improve that,’ she promised.

She moved her hand up, reaching through his shirt, then stopped.

‘What’s that?’

Charlie looked down.

‘String vest,’ he said.

‘A what!’

‘String vest. Supposed to keep you cool in hot weather.’

‘Good God!’

She began to laugh, genuinely now, and he smiled with her.

‘Doesn’t seem to work, either.’

‘Let me see,’ she insisted.

Feeling foolish, he took off his shirt and she began to laugh even more, pointing at him with an outstretched finger and rocking backwards and forwards on her heels.

‘You look ridiculous,’ she protested. ‘Like a fish, a fish wrapped up inside a net…’

He did, thought Charlie. A flat fish. Very apt.

He reached for her outstretched hand, intending to repeat the question about Lu, then realised that the amusement had changed, becoming more strident, edging towards hysteria.

‘What…?’ he began and then saw she was crying, her eyes flooded with emotion.

‘Oh fuck,’ she said desperately. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’

She pumped her hand in his, in her frustration, and then came forward, pressing her face into his shoulder. Charlie put his arms around her, holding her against him. Her skin was very smooth and he could feel her tipped, soft breasts against him. There was still no reaction within him.

‘It was a good try,’ he said quietly. Normally there was anger at realising he had been wrong. This time it was relief.

She sobbed on.

‘Why?’ he said.

‘Robert’s so worried,’ she said, her voice uneven and muffled against his shoulder. ‘He’s convinced he’ll be dismissed, because of the premium.’

‘But why this?’

She pulled away from him.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘It wouldn’t have worked.’

‘I could have pretended… whores do all the time.’

‘I couldn’t.’

It was a sad smile, but controlled now.

‘No,’ she said. ‘You couldn’t, could you?’

‘I still want to know why.’

‘Wanted to compromise you… then plead for Robert. Ask you not to recommend that he be fired. Blackmail you even. Another whore’s trick.’

‘He’s not going to be sacked,’ insisted Charlie. ‘I’ve told him that, more times than I can count. In a few days, I’ll get Willoughby to reassure him by letter.’

She was back on her heels now, gazing at him. Crying had puffed her eyes, he saw.

‘It’s my fault, you know,’ she blurted suddenly.

‘What is?’

‘The fire… everything, all because of me.’

Charlie leaned forward, taking her hand again.

‘Jenny,’ he said urgently, ‘what are you saying?’

‘Lu’s people are talking openly to the Chinese about it. They have to, you see. For Lu’s family to recover face, it’s important that everyone knows…’

‘Jenny,’ he stopped her. ‘Tell me from the beginning. Tell me so that I can understand…’

She sniffed and he groped into his pocket for a handkerchief. She kept it in her hand, tracing her fingers over his wrist, a little-girl gesture.

‘Lu doesn’t just get his money from shipbuilding and property development and oil,’ she began slowly. ‘That’s crap, part of the great benefactor publicity machine…’

‘What else?’

‘He owns a good third of the bars and brothels in Wan Chai,’ announced the girl. ‘Maybe more. They’re quieter, now that the war in Vietnam is over and the Americans aren’t coming here… and the Sixth Fleet has gone. But there’s still enough business. Not that they matter, by themselves. He’s got at least two factories here in Hong Kong manufacturing heroin from the poppy resin that comes in from Thailand and Burma… it’s called Brown Sugar. Or Number Three…’

She paused, then went on, ‘He’s the biggest supplier in the colony and ships to America and Europe as well…’

Another pause.

‘You know what a Triad is?’

‘Something like a Chinese Mafia?’

She nodded.

‘Lu’s a paymaster for at least three Triads, with branches not just here but in Europe as well.’

‘How do you know all this?’

She ignored the question.

‘And then there’s the name. Lucky Lu. It doesn’t come from the luck he had on the Hong Kong stock market, like all the publicity says. He runs the casinos and mah-jong games throughout Hong Kong and Kowloon…’

The sad smile again.

‘The Chinese are the biggest gamblers in the world,’ she said. ‘Only Lucky Lu is always the winner.’

‘How do you know all this?’ repeated Charlie. Almost enough to return to Johnson, he decided, though he still wanted a link with the 12 per cent premium.

Her head was pressed forward now, so that she didn’t have to look at him, and when she spoke her voice was muffled once more.

‘Before meeting Robert,’ she said, ‘I was with Johnny Lu… the son that controls Lucky’s vice businesses. I was his number one woman…’

‘I’ve seen his pictures,’ said Charlie. ‘He seems to be almost his father’s shadow.’

She hesitated.

‘Johnny told me not to go,’ she remembered distantly. ‘Told me I wouldn’t be accepted. He was right…’