Noble House by James Clavell
Tiptop laughed. L’eung continued to be set-faced and hostile.
“What do you forecast will happen in 1997, Mr. Dunross?”
“I am not Old Blind Tung, nor a soothsayer, Mr. Tip.” Dunross shrugged. “1997 can take care of 1997. Old friends will still need old friends. Heya?”
After a pause Tiptop said, “If your bank will not help the Noble House, nor Old Friends, nor Orlin, how will you remain the Noble House?”
“My forebear, Green-Eyed Devil, was asked the same question by the Great and Honorable Jin-qua when he was beset by his enemies, Tyler Brock and his scum, and he just laughed and said, ‘Neng che to lao’—an able man has many burdens. As I’m abler than most I have to sweat more than most.”
Tip Tok-toh smiled with him. “And you are sweating, Mr. Dunross?”
“Well, let me put it this way,” Dunross told him cheerfully, “I’m trying to avoid the eighty-fourth. As you know, Buddha said that all men have eighty-three burdens. If we succeed in eliminating one we automatically acquire another. The secret of life is to adjust to eighty-three and avoid at all costs acquiring the eighty-fourth.”
The older man smiled. “Have you considered selling part of your company, perhaps even 51 percent?”
“No, Mr. Tip. Old Green-Eyed Devil forbade that.” The lines around Dunross’s eyes crinkled. “He wanted us to sweat.”
“Let us hope you don’t have to sweat too much. Yes.” Tiptop stubbed out his cigarette. “In troubled times it would be good for the Bank of China to have a closer liaison with your banking system. Then these crises would not be so continuous.”
Instantly Dunross’s mind leaped forward. “I wonder if the Bank of China would consider having a permanent contact stationed within the Vic and an equivalent one in yours?” He saw the fleeting smile and knew he had guessed correctly. “That would ensure close monitoring of any crisis, and assist you should you ever need international assistance.”
“Chairman Mao advises self-help and that’s what we are doing. But your suggestion might be worthwhile. I will be glad to pass it on.”
“I’m sure the bank would be grateful if you would recommend someone to be their contact with the great Bank of China.”
“I would be glad to pass that on too. Do you think Blacs or the Victoria would advance the necessary foreign exchange for Mr. Ng’s imports?”
“I’m sure they’d be delighted to be of service, the Victoria certainly. After all, the Victoria has had a century and more of association with China. Wasn’t it instrumental in making most of your foreign loans, railway loans, aircraft loans?”
“To great profit,” Tiptop said dryly. His eyes darted at L’eung who was staring intently at Dunross. “Capitalist profit,” he added thinly.
“Quite,” Dunross said. “You must excuse us capitalists, Mr. Tip. Perhaps our only defense is that many of us are Old Friends of the Middle Kingdom.”
L’eung spoke to Tiptop briefly in a dialect Dunross did not understand. Tiptop answered him affirmatively. Both men looked back at him. “I’m sorry but you must excuse me now, Mr. Dunross, I really must get some medication. Perhaps you’d phone me here after lunch, say around 2:30.”
Dunross got up and stretched out his hand, not sure if he had succeeded but very sure he had better do something about the thorium very quickly, certainly before 2:30. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“What about our fifth race?” The older man peered up at him, walking with him to the door.
“Noble Star’s worth a bet. Each way.”
“Ah! Butterscotch Lass?”
“Same.”
“And Pilot Fish?”
Dunross laughed. “The stallion’s good but not in the same class, unless there’s an act of God, or the devil.”
They were at the front door now and a servant had opened it wide. Again L’eung spoke in the dialect Dunross did not recognize. Again Tiptop answered affirmatively and led the way outside. At once L’eung walked off down toward the tennis court.
“I’d like you to meet a friend, a new friend, Mr. Dunross,” Tiptop said. “He could, perhaps, be doing a lot of business with you in the future. If you wish.”
Dunross saw the flinty eyes and his good humor vanished.
The Chinese coming back with L’eung was well formed, fit and in his forties. His hair was blue-black and tousled from his game, his tennis clothes modern, smart and American. On the court behind him, the other three waited and watched. All were fit and well dressed.
“May I introduce Dr. Joseph Yu from California? Mr. Ian Dunross.”
“Hi, Mr. Dunross,” Joseph Yu said with easy American familiarity. “Mr. Tip’s filled me in on you and Struan’s—happy to meet you. Mr. Tip thought we should meet before I leave—we’re going into China tomorrow, Betty ’n’ I, my wife and I.” He waved a vague hand toward one of the women on the tennis court. “We’re not expecting to come back for some time so I’d like to make a date to meet in Canton in a month or so.” He glanced back at Tiptop. “No trouble about Mr. Dunross’s visa, anything like that?”
“No, Dr. Yu. Oh no. None at all.”
“Great. If I give you a call, Mr. Dunross, or Mr. Tip does, can we arrange something at a couple days’ notice?”
“Certainly, if all the paperwork’s done.” Dunross kept the smile on his face, noticing the assured hardness in Yu. “What had you in mind?”
“If you’ll excuse us,” Tiptop said, “we’ll leave you two together.” He nodded politely and went back inside with L’eung.
“I’m from the States,” Yu continued cheerfully, “American born, Sacramento. I’m third-generation California though I was educated, in part, in Canton. My Ph.D. is from Stanford, aerospace engineering, my specialty rocketry and rocket fuels. NASA’s where I’ve spent my best years, best since college.” Yu was no longer smiling. “The equipment I’ll be ordering will be all manner of sophisticated metallurgy and aerospace hardware. Mr. Tip said you’d be our best bet as the importer. The British, then the French and Germans, maybe Japanese will be the manufacturers. You interested?”
Dunross listened with growing concern that he did not bother to hide.
“If it’s not strategic and not restricted,” he said.
“It’ll be mostly strategic and mostly restricted. You interested?”
“Why’re you telling me all this, Dr. Yu?”
Yu’s mouth smiled. “I’m going to reorganize China’s space program.” His eyes slitted even more as he watched Dunross carefully. “You find that surprising?”
“Yes.”
“So do I.” Yu glanced at his wife, then back to Dunross. “Mr. Tip says you’re to be trusted. He feels you’re fair and since you owe him one or two, you’ll pass on a message for me.” Yu’s voice hardened. “I’m telling you so that when you read about my demise or kidnapping or some ‘while his mind was disturbed’ crap, you’ll know it’s all lies and as a favor will pass back that message to the CIA and from them up the line. The truth!” He took a deep breath. “I’m leaving of my own free will. We both are. For three generations our folk and my people, who’re the best goddamn immigrants there are, have been kicked around in the States by Americans. My old man was in the First World War and I helped make the Big Bang, but the last goddamn straw was two months ago. June 16. Betty ’n’ I wanted a house in Beverly Hills. Are you familiar with Beverly Hills in Los Angeles?”
“Yes.”
“We were turned down because we were Chinese. The son of a bitch came out and said it. ‘I’m not selling to goddamn Chinese.’ That wasn’t the first time, hell no, but the son of a bitch said it in front of Betty and that was it. That was the big one!” Yu’s lips twisted with anger. “Can you imagine the stupidity of that bastard? I’m the best there is in my field and that red-neck horse’s ass says ‘I’m not selling to Chinese.’” He spun his racket in his hands. “You’ll tell them?”
“Do you want me to pass this information on privately or publicly? I will quote you verbati
“Privately to the CIA, but not before next Monday at 6:00 P.M. Okay? Then next month, after our Canton meeting, it’s public. Okay, Mr. Dunross?”
“Very well. Can you give me the name of the house seller, the date, any details?”
Yu took out a typed slip of paper.
Dunross glanced at it. “Thank you.” There were two names and addresses and phone numbers in Beverly Hills. “Both the same refusal?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll take care of it for you, Dr. Yu.”
“You think that’s petty, huh?”
“No, I don’t think so at all. I’m just so sorry that it happened and happens everywhere—to all sorts of people. It’s greatly saddening.” Dunross hesitated. “It happens in China, Japan, here, all over the world. Chinese and Japanese, Vietnamese, all manner of people, Dr. Yu, are sometimes equally intolerant and bigoted. Most times very much more so. Aren’t we all called quai loh?”
“It shouldn’t happen Stateside—not Americans to Americans. That’s my bitch.”
“Do you think once you’re inside China, you’ll be allowed to go in and out freely?”
“No. But I don’t give a damn about that. I’m going freely. I’m not being tempted by money or being blackmailed to go. I’m just going.”
“What about NASA? I’m surprised they allowed such nonsense to happen in the first place.”
“Oh we had a fine house on offer, but it wasn’t where we wanted to live. Betty wanted that goddamn house and we had the money and position to pay for it, but we couldn’t get in. It wasn’t just that son of a bitch, it was the neighborhood too.” Yu wiped a thread of hair out of his eyes. “They didn’t want us so I’m going where I am wanted. What about China having a nuclear retaliatory strike force of its own? Like the French, eh? What do you think of that?”
“The idea of anyone having A- or H-bomb tipped rockets fills me with horror.”
“They’re just the weapons of the day, Mr. Dunross, just the weapons of the day.”
“Jesus Christ!” Johnjohn said, aghast.
Havergill was equally shocked. “Dr. Joseph Yu’s really top bracket, Ian?”
“Absolutely. I phoned a friend in Washington. Yu’s one of two or three in the world—rockets and rocket fuel.” It was after lunch. Dunross had just told them what had transpired this morning. “It’s also true no one knows he’s going over the border, even that he’s left Hawaii where he’s supposed to be on vacation—he told me he traveled here quite openly.”
“Christ,” Johnjohn said again. “If China gets experts like him …” He twisted the paper knife that was on Havergill’s desk. “Ian, have you considered telling Roger Crosse, or Rosemont to prevent that?”
“Of course, but I can’t do that. I absolutely can’t.”
“Of course Ian can’t! Have you considered what’s at stake?” Havergill jerked an angry thumb at the window. Fourteen floors below he could see an impatient, angry mob of people trying to get into the bank, the police stretched very thin now. “Let’s not delude ourselves, the run is on, we’re getting down to the bottom of the barrel. We barely have enough cash to last the day, barely enough to pay government employees. Thank God it’s Saturday tomorrow! If Ian says there’s a chance we could get China’s cash, of course he can’t risk giving away such a confidence! Ian, did you hear the Ho-Pak’s closed its doors?”
“No. I’ve been chasing around like a blue-arsed fly since I left Tiptop.”
“The Ching Prosperity closed too, the Far East and India’s tottering, Blacs is eking out its reserves and like us, praying they can last the next half an hour to closing.” He shoved the phone across his pristine desk. “Ian, please call Tiptop now, it’s just 2:30.”
Dunross kept his face stony and his voice level. “There’re a couple of things to settle first, Paul. What about the thorium imports?” He had told them he had contacted Photographer Ng who had happily given him an immediate firm order for as much of the rare earth as he could obtain. “Will you provide the foreign exchange?”
“Yes, provided the trade is not restricted.”
“I’ll need that in writing.”
“You’ll have it before closing tonight. Please call him now.”
“In ten minutes. It’s a matter of face. You’ll agree to having a permanent Bank of China contact in the building?”
“Yes. I’m sure they’ll never let one of our people inside their building, but no matter.” Havergill glanced at his watch again, then looked at Johnjohn. “The fellow’d have to be monitored and we might have to change a few procedures for security, eh?”
Johnjohn nodded. “Yes, but that shouldn’t cause any problem, Paul. If it was Tiptop himself, that would be perfect. Ian, do you think there’s a chance?”
“I don’t know. Now, what about the Yu trade?”
Havergill said, “We can’t finance any smuggling. You would of necessity be on your own.”
“Who said anything about smuggling?”
“Quite. Then let me say we’ll have to take a careful look at the Yu trade when and if you are asked to assist them.”
“Come on, Paul, you know damn well it’s part of the deal—if there’s a deal. Why else would they have wanted me to meet him?”
Johnjohn interjected, “Why not table that one, Ian? We’ll bend every which way to assist you when the time comes. You told Yu the same thing—that you’d wait and see but no actual commitment, eh?”
“But you agree to help in every way to assist me?”
“Yes, on this and the thorium.”
“Then what about my loan?”
Paul Havergill said, “I’m not permitted to grant it, Ian. We’ve already been through that.”
“Then call a board meeting right now.”
“I’ll consider it. Let’s see how things’re going, eh?” Paul Havergill pressed a button and spoke into the small speaker. “Stock Exchange, please.”
In a moment a voice came over the speaker. Behind the voice they could hear pandemonium. “Yes, Mr. Havergill?”
“Charles, what’s the latest?”
“The whole market’s off 28 points …” Both bankers blanched. The small vein in Dunross’s forehead was pulsing. “… and it looks like the beginning of a panic. The bank’s off 7 points, Struan’s is down to 11.50 …”
“Christ!” Johnjohn muttered.
“… Rothwell-Gornt off 7, Hong Kong Power off 5, Asian Land 11 … everything’s skidding. All bank stocks are tumbling. The Ho-Pak’s frozen at 12 and when it gets unfrozen it’ll go to a dollar. The Far East and India is only paying out maximum 1,000 a customer.”
Havergill’s nervousness increased. Far East was one of the biggest in the Colony.
“I hate to be a pessimist but it looks like New York in ’29! I th—” The voice was drowned out by a surge of shouting. “Sorry, there’s another huge sell offering up on Struan’s. 200,000 shares….”
“Christ, where the hell’s all the stock coming from?” Johnjohn asked.
“From every Tom, Dick and Harry in Hong Kong,” Dunross said coldly. “Including the Victoria.”
“We had to protect our investors,” Havergill said, then added into the mike, “Thank you, Charles. Call me back at a quarter to three.” He clicked the speaker off. “There’s your answer, Ian. I cannot in all conscience recommend to the board we bail you out with another unsecured 100 million loan.”
“Are you going to call a board meeting right now or not?”
“Your stock’s plunging. You’ve no assets to pledge to support the run on your stock, your bank holdings are already pledged, the stock in your treasury gets more valueless every minute. On Monday or Tuesday, Gornt will buy back in and then he’ll control Struan’s.”
Dunross watched him. “You’ll let Gornt take us over? I don’t believe you. You’ll buy in before he does. Or have you already made a deal to split up Struan’s between you?”
“No deal. Not yet. But if you’ll resign from
“When would you make the announcement?”
“Monday at 3:10.”
“In other words you’ll give me nothing.”
“You’ve always said the best thing about Hong Kong was that it was a free marketplace, where the strong survive and the weak perish. Why didn’t you persuade Sir Luis to withdraw your stock from trading?”
“He suggested it. I refused.”
“Why?”
“Struan’s is as strong as ever.”
“Wasn’t the real reason face—and your foolish pride? Sorry, there’s nothing I can do to prevent the inevitable.”
“Balls!” Dunross said and Havergill flushed. “You can call a meeting. You can c—”
“No meeting!”
“Ian.” Johnjohn tried to soften the open hostility between the two men. “Listen, Paul, how about a compromise: If, through Ian, we get China’s cash, you will call a meeting of the board at once, an extraordinary meeting, today. You could do that—there are enough directors in town, and it’s fair. Eh?”
Havergill hesitated. “I’ll consider it.”
“That’s not good enough,” Dunross said hotly.
“I’ll consider it. Kindly call Tipt—”
“When’s the meeting? If?”
“Next week.”
“No. Today as Johnjohn suggests.”
“I said I’ll consider it,” Havergill said, flaring. “Now please call Tiptop.”
“If you’ll guarantee to call the board no later than tomorrow at ten!”
Havergill’s voice harshened. “I will not be blackmailed as I was the last time. If you don’t want to call Tiptop, I will. I can now. If they want to lend us their money, they’ll lend it to us whoever the hell calls. You’ve agreed to the thorium deal, you’ve agreed to meet Yu next month, we agree to support that deal whoever controls the Noble House. I am not empowered to grant you any further loans. So take it or leave it. I will consider calling a board meeting before Monday’s market opens. That’s all I promise.”