James Clavell - Gai-Jin

"It's all very curious, William,"

Henri had said this morning. "The bodies, skeletons would be more accurate, lay as though they were dead before the fire arrived, no sign of trying to escape by either of them. Just side by side, hands together. I'm bewildered, for all his faults Andr`e was a survivor, and in a fire it's instinct to try to escape, you don't just lie there, you can't, not possible."

"Then what's the answer?"' "I don't know. It could have been a suicide pact that was concluded before the fire. Poison, nothing else would fit. It's true he was morbid recently to the point of insanity, and needed money desperately to pay for her. Apart from that, Andr`e a suicide? Do you believe that?"' No, not Andr`e, Sir William thought disquieted. Was he poisoned, or both of them.

Now there's a motive for murder. Good God Almighty, is that possible? Yes it is but who?

Wearily, greatly troubled, he closed his eyes. The more he tried to answer that question the more distracted he became. The door opened silently. His Number One Boy padded in, began to greet him but seeing the paleness and age on his Master's face, frowned, presumed him to be sleeping, so poured a whisky and put it quietly beside him on the table. His eyes flicked over Andr`e's letters that were atop the file, then, as silently, he went out.

A few minutes later there was a knock.

Sir William awoke with a start as Babcott popped his head in. "Got a minute?"

"Oh, hello, George, of course." Sir William put the letters into a folder grimly aware of the attraction they seemed to radiate.

"Take a seat, like a drink, what's up?"

"Nothing." Babcott was more tired than ever before. "Won't stay, just wanted to say I'm going to get a few hours sleep. The count so far is three fellows from Drunk Town, one an Australian barkeeper and two vagrants, no papers--there may be other bodies in the wreckage but who knows when the cleanup will be finished. No one seems very concerned."

"What about the village and Yoshiwara?"

"We'll never get a count." Babcott yawned. "They seem to consider those sorts of statistics national secrets. Can't blame them, we're the outsiders. Not many casualties I'd imagine. Same on our Yoshiwara, thank God--you heard that each Inn had an emergency cellar?"

"Damn clever. We'd better institute the same idea."

"Pity about Andr`e..." Babcott said, and at once another twinge went through Sir William. "... we were terribly lucky more of our people didn't get caught, how Phillip got out with his life I just don't know. William, he's badly shaken up by the loss of his girl, why not give him a couple of weeks leave, let him go to Hong Kong or Shanghai?"

"Work's his best therapy, and I need him here."

"Maybe you're right." Another yawn.

"God, I'm tired. You know Hoag's on the packet tonight?"

"He told me earlier, 'least he said he'd asked you and you didn't need him. I suppose Tess ordered him to report as soon as he knew--if she wasn't bearing."

"Yes. Part's personal, William, he's suddenly frantic to go back to India, thinks his happiness lies there. Hope he does, he's a grand doctor but talks too much." A frown and a stifled yawn. "Did he tell you what was in Tess's letter?"

"To Angelique? No. He said she didn't show it to him. Difficult to call that one, in more ways than you can shake a stick at," Sir William said, watching him closely.

"Heavenly was here earlier, he said nothing about it either, only that she wanted me to witness her signature to a letter she was sending Tess."

Some of Babcott's tiredness went away.

"I'd certainly like to know what's in it."

"I'll only be party to witnessing it. Rightly I don't need to know the contents."

Babcott sighed, yawned again. "I feel so terribly sorry for her, wish I could help, I'd do anything... such a nice girl and so unfair. For her and Malcolm. Well I'm off, glad she's not leaving us yet, she'll make someone a spectacular wife. See you in a few hours."

"Have a good sleep, and thanks for all the good work. By the way," Sir William said, not wanting him to leave, but afraid if he stayed he would be tempted to share Andr`e's evidence, to ask his advice. "When do you see Anjo again?"

"In a week or two, when the laudanum's used up--without that he'll be a most unhappy man."

"No hope for him?"

"No. He won't last but a few months, the tests are fairly accurate--his insides are in a mess. Yoshi's our man." Another aching yawn. "Do you think Anjo, or Yoshi, or both ordered the arson?"

"Either or neither or both, we'll never know."

He watched Babcott limp for the door.

"George, medically, if a woman was sedated, could a fellow take her and she'd not know about it?"

Babcott blinked and turned back, fatigue fled. "What on earth made you ask that?"

"Just a sudden thought, you mentioned laudanum. A couple of days ago Zergeyev had some wild theories about drugs, the good and the bad of them. Could that happen?"

After a pause, Babcott nodded, not believing that excuse. He knew how subtle Willie's mind was, and wondered the why of the question but was too smart to ask again. "If the dose was strong and the man not savage, yes, no problem." He waited but Sir William only nodded thoughtfully so he waved a hand and left.

Once more Sir William opened the file.

His fingers trembled as he re-read Andr`e's covering letter. It's clear enough. The drug in Kanagawa started the chain of events, George's drug. If she'd awakened the man would have killed her, no doubt about that. So she was saved but destroyed. But why didn't the man kill her anyway, why leave her alive?

Doesn't make sense, any of it. And what happened in the French Legation that other night when he returned? If it hadn't been for George ...

And what about George? If he could give her such a drug to help her sleep, to guard her sanity, surely he could easily do the same to Andr`e to remove a blackmailer from the woman he clearly loves. An overdose of the same drug...

George Babcott? Good God I must be losing my wits. Impossible for him to do that!

Is it?

And Angelique, impossible for her to have done all that!

Is it?

What the hell do I do?

"Excuse me, sir," Bertram said.

"Miss Angelique's here."

"Show them in. Then you can leave. Dinner's at nine. Make sure the Belle doesn't leave without my dispatches."

"Yes sir. It's just her, Mr. Skye's not with her."

Sir William eased out of his old chair, tired and feeling bad, Andr`e's file facedown on his desk.

She came in, physically as magnetic as always, but different, her face set, and with an undercurrent he could not read. Topcoat, bonnet and gloves. Black suits her, he thought, sets off her fair skin, so pretty and young, younger than Vertinskya. Curious, has she been crying? "Good evening, how are you, Angelique?"

"Oh, all right, thank you," she said, her voice flat and unlike her usual, poised self. "Mr. Skye told you I needed you to verify my signature tonight?"

"Yes." He went to his desk, his concentration damaged by the pictures Andr`e had painted so vividly. "I... please sit down." She obeyed and as he looked at her another shadow went past her lovely eyes. "What's the matter?" he asked kindly.

"Nothing. I, this afternoon I heard about Andr`e, that he'd, he'd been killed. I would have come earlier but I..." With a visible effort she brushed that aside, took the envelope from her purse and laid the paper on the table. "How should I sign it please?"

He steepled his fingers, unsettled that again, so soon, Andr`e's spectre had invaded the room --not at his whim. "I'm not really sure. I understand from Skye you have agreed with Mrs. Tess Struan, amongst other conditions, to renounce your Mrs. title?"

"Please, you may read the letter if you wish," she said, dully.