jamesclavell.noblehouse-第4章

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　John　Chen　smiled　politely。　〃Not　in　America；〃　he　said；　〃and　it　is　not　my　pany。　I'm　just　a　minor　stockholder　of　Struan's；　an　employee。〃
　〃But　you're　a　director　and　you're　the　eldest　son　of　Noble　House　Chen　so　you'll　be　next　pradore。〃　By　historic　custom　the　pradore　was　a　Chinese　or　Eurasian　businessman　who　acted　as　the　exclusive　intermediary　between　the　European　trading　house　and　the　Chinese。　All　business　went　through　his　hands　and　a　little　of　everything　stuck　there。
　So　much　wealth　and　so　much　power；　Armstrong　thought；　yet　with　a　little　luck；　we　can　bring　you　down　like　Humpty…Dumpty　and　Struan's　with　you。　Jesus　Christ；　he　told　himself；　the　anticipation　sickly　sweet；　if　that　happens　the　scandal's　going　to　blow　Hong　Kong　apart。　〃You'll　be　pradore；　like　your　father　and　grandfather　and　great…grandfather　before　you。　Your　great…grandfather　was　the　first；　wasn't　he？　Sir　Gordon　Chen；　pradore　to　the　great　Dirk　Struan　who　founded　the　Noble　House　and　damn　nearly　founded　Hong　Kong。〃
　〃No。　Dirk's　pradore　was　a　man　called　Chen　Sheng。　Sir　Gordon　Chen　was　pradore　to　Dirk's　son；　Culum　Struan。〃
　〃They　were　half…brothers　weren't　they？〃
　〃So　the　legend　goes。〃
　〃Ah　yes；　legends　…　the　stuff　we　feed　on。　Culum　Struan；　another　legend　of　Hong　Kong。　But　Sir　Gordon；　he's　a　legend　too　…　you're　lucky。〃
　Lucky？　John　Chen　asked　himself　bitterly。　To　be　descended　from　an　illegitimate　son　of　a　Scots　pirate　…　an　opium　runner；　a　whoring　evil　genius　and　murderer　if　some　of　the　stories　are　true　…　and　a　Cantonese　singsong　girl　bought　out　of　a　filthy　little　cathouse　that　still　exists　in　a　filthy　little　Macao　alley？　To　have　almost　everyone　in　Hong　Kong　know　your　lineage　and　to　be　despised　for　it　by　both　races？　〃Not　lucky；〃　he　said；　trying　to　be　outwardly　calm。　His　hair　was　gray…flecked　and　dark；　his　face　Anglo…Saxon　and　handsome；　though　a　little　slack　at　the　jowls；　and　his　dark　eyes　only　slightly　Asian。　He　was　forty…two　and　wore　tropicals；　impeccably　cut　as　always；　with　Hermes　shoes　and　Rolex　watch。
　〃I　don't　agree；〃　Armstrong　said；　meaning　it。　〃To　be　pradore　to　Struan's；　the　Noble　House　of　Asia　。。。　that's　something。　Something　special。〃
　〃Yes；　that's　special。〃　John　Chen　said　it　flat。　Ever　since　he　could　think；　he　had　been　bedeviled　by　his　heritage。　He　could　feel　eyes　watching　him　…　him；　the　eldest　son；　the　next　in　line　…　he　could　feel　the　everlasting　greed　and　the　envy。　It　had　terrified　him　continuously；　however　much　he　tried　to　conquer　the　terror。　He　had　never　wanted　any　of　the　power　or　any　of　the　responsibility。　Only　yesterday　he　had　had　another　grinding　row　with　his　father；　worse　than　ever　before。　〃I　don't　want　any　part　of　Struan's！〃　he　had　shouted。　〃For　the　hundredth　time　I　want　to　get　the　hell　out　of　Hong　Kong；　I　want　to　go　back　to　the　States；　I　want　to　lead　my　own　life；　as　I　want；　where　I　want；　and　how　I　want！〃
　〃For　the　thousandth　time；　you'll　listen　to　me。　I　sent　you　to　Am…　〃
　〃Let　me　run　our　American　interests；　Father。　Please。　There's　more　than　enough　to　do！　You　could　let　me　have　a　couple　of　mill…　〃
　〃Ayeeyah　you　will　listen　to　me！　It's　here；　here　in　Hong　Kong　and　Asia　we　make　our　money！　I　sent　you　to　school　in　America　to　prepare　the　family　for　the　modern　world。　You　are　prepared；　it's　your　duty　to　the　fam…　〃
　〃There's　Richard；　Father；　and　young　Kevin　…　Richard's　ten　times　the　businessman　I　am　and　chomping　at　the　bit。　What　about　Uncle　Jam…　〃
　〃You'll　do　as　I　say！　Good　God；　you　know　this　American　Bartlett　is　vital　to　us。　We　need　your　knowl…　〃
　〃　…　Uncle　James　or　Uncle　Thomas。　Uncle　James'd　be　the　best　for　you；　best　for　the　family　and　the　bes…　〃
　〃You're　my　eldest　son。　You're　the　next　head　of　the　family　and　the　next　pradore！〃
　〃I　won't　be　by　God！〃
　〃Then　you　won't　get　another　copper　cash！〃
　〃And　that　won't　be　much　of　a　change！　We're　all　kept　on　a　pittance；　whatever　outsiders　think！　What　are　you　worth？　How　many　millions？　Fifty？　Seventy？　A　hun…　〃
　〃Unless　you　apologize　at　once　and　finish　with　all　this　nonsense；　finish　with　it　once　and　for　all；　I'll　cut　you　off　right　now！　Right　now！〃
　〃I　apologize　for　making　you　angry　but　I'll　never　change！　Never！〃
　〃I'll　give　you　until　my　birthday。　Eight　days。　Eight　days　to　bee　a　dutiful　son。　That's　my　last　word。　Unless　you　bee　obedient　by　my　birthday　I'll　chop　you　and　your　line　off　our　tree　forever！　Now　get　out！〃
　John　Chen's　stomach　twisted　uneasily。　He　hated　the　interminable　quarreling；　his　father　apoplectic　with　rage；　his　wife　in　tears；　his　children　petrified；　his　stepmother　and　brothers　and　cousins　all　gloating；　wanting　him　gone；　all　of　his　sisters；　most　of　his　uncles；　all　their　wives。　Envy；　greed。　The　hell　with　it　and　them；　he　thought。　But　Father's　right　about　Bartlett；　though　not　the　way　he　thinks。　No。　This　one　is　for　me。　This　deal。　Just　this　one　then　I'll　be　free　forever。
　They　were　almost　through　the　long；　brightly　lit　Customs　Hall　now。
　〃You　going　racing　Saturday？〃　John　Chen　asked。
　〃Who　isn't！〃　The　week　before；　to　the　ecstasy　of　all；　the　immensely　powerful　Turf　Club　with　its　exclusive　monopoly　on　horse　racing　…　the　only　legal　form　of　gambling　allowed　in　the　Colony　…　had　put　out　a　special　bulletin：　〃Though　our　formal　season　does　not　start　this　year　until　October　5；　with　the　kind　permission　of　our　illustrious　Governor；　Sir　Geoffrey　Allison；　the　Stewards　have　decided　to　declare　Saturday；　August　24　a　Very　Special　Race　Day　for　the　enjoyment　of　all　and　as　a　salute　to　our　hardworking　population　who　are　bearing　the　heavy　weight　of　the　second　worst　drought　in　our　history　with　fortitude。　。。。〃
　〃I　hear　you've　got　Golden　Lady　running　in　the　fifth；〃　Armstrong　said。
　〃The　trainer　says　she's　got　a　chance。　Please　e　by　Father's　box　and　have　a　drink　with　us。　I　could　use　some　of　your　tips。　You're　a　great　punter。〃
　〃Just　lucky。　But　my　ten　dollars　each　way　hardly　pares　with　your　ten　thousand。〃
　〃But　that's　only　when　we've　one　of　our　horses　running。　Last　season　was　a　disaster。　。。。　I　could　use　a　winner。〃
　〃So　could　I。〃　Oh　Christ　how　I　need　a　winner；　Armstrong　thought。　But　you；　Johnny　Chen；　it　doesn't　matter　a　twopenny　tick　in　hell　if　you　win　or　lose　ten　thousand　or　a　hundred　thousand。　He　tried　to　curb　his　soaring　jealousy。　Calm　down；　he　told　himself。　Crooks're　a　fact　and　it's　your　job　to　catch　them　if　you　can　…　however　rich；　however　powerful　…　and　to　be　content　with　your　rotten　pay　when　every　street　corner's　groaning　with　free　silver。　Why　envy　this　bastard　…　he's　for　the　chopper　one　way　or　another。　〃Oh　by　the　way；　I　sent　a　constable　to　your　car　to　take　it　through　the　gate。　It'll　be　waiting　at　the　gangway　for　you　and　your　guests。〃
　〃Oh；　that's　great；　thanks。　Sorry　for　the　trouble。〃
　〃No　trouble。　It's　a　matter　of　face。　Isn't　it。　I　thought　it　must　be　pretty　special　for　you　to　e　yourself。〃　Armstrong　could　not　resist　another　barb。　〃As　I　said；　nothing's　too　much　trouble　for　the　Noble　House。〃
　John　Chen　kept　his　polite　smile　but　screw　you；　he　thought。　We　tolerate　you　because　of　what　you　are；　a　very　important　cop；　filled　with　envy；　heavily　in　debt；　surely　corrupt　and　you　know　nothing　about　horses。　Screw　you　in　spades。　Dew　neh　loh　moh　on　all　your　generations；　John　Chen　thought；　but　he　kept　the　obscenity　hidden　carefully；　for　though　Armstrong　was　roundly　hated　by　all　Hong　Kong　yan；　John　Chen　knew　from　long　experience　that　Armstrong's　ruthless；　vengeful　cunning　was　worthy　of　a　filthy　Manchu。　He　reached　up　to　the　half…coin　he　wore　on　a　thin　leather　thong　around　his　neck。　His　fingers　trembled　as　they　touched　the　metal　through　his　shirt。　He　shivered　involuntarily。
　〃What's　the　matter？〃　Armstrong　asked。
　〃Nothing。　Nothing　at　all。〃　Get　hold　of　yourself；　John　Chen　thought。
　Now　they　were　through　the　Customs　Hall　and　into　the　Immigration　area；　the　night　dark　outside。　Lines　of　anxious；　unsettled；　tired　people　waited　in　front　of　the　neat；　small　desks　of　the　cold…faced；　uniformed　Immigration　officers。　These　men　saluted　Armstrong。　John　Chen　felt　their　searching　eyes。
　As　always；　his　stomach　turned　queasy　under　their　scrutiny　even　though　he　was　safe　from　their　probing　questions。　He　held　a　proper　British　passport；　not　just　a　second…class　Hong　Kong　passport；　also　an　American　Green　Card　…　the　Alien　Card　…　that　most　priceless　of　possessions　that　gave　him　free　access　to　work　and　play　and　live　in　the　U。S。A。；　all　the　privileges　of　a　born　American　except　the　right　to　vote。　Who　needs　to　vote；　he　thought；　and　stared　back　at　one　of　the　men；　trying　to　feel　brave；　but　still　feeling　naked　under　the　man's　gaze。
　〃Superintendent？〃　One　of　the　officers　was　holding　up　a　phone。　〃It's　for　you；　sir。〃
　He　watched　Armstrong　walk　back　to　take　the　call　and　he　wondered　what　it　would　be　like　to　be　a　policeman　with　so　much　opportunity　for　so　much　graft；　and；　for　the　millionth　time；　what　it　would　be　like　to　be　all　British　or　all　Chinese；　and　not　a　Eurasian　despised　by　both。
　He　watched　Armstrong　listening　intently；　then　heard　him　say　above　the　hubbub；　〃No；　just　stall。　I'll　deal　with　it　personally。　Thanks；　Tom。〃
　Armstrong　came　back。　〃Sorry；〃　he　said；　then　headed　past　the　Immigration　cordon；　up　a　small　corridor　and　into　the　VIP　Lounge。　It　was　neat　and　expansive；　with　bar　facilities　and　a　good　view　of　the　airport　and　the　city　and　the　bay。　The　lounge　was　empty　except　for　two　Immigration　and　Customs　officers　and　one　of　Armstrong's　men　waiting　beside　Gate　16　…　a　glass　door　that　let　out　onto　the　floodlit　tarmac。　They　could　see　the　707　ing　onto　her　parking　marks。
　〃Evening；　Sergeant　Lee；〃　Armstrong　said。　〃All　set？〃
　〃Yes　sir。　Yankee　2's　just　shutting　down　her　engines。〃　Sergeant　Lee　saluted　again　and　opened　the　gate　for　them。
　Armstrong　glanced　at　John　Chen；　knowing　the　neck　of　the　trap　was　almost　closed。　〃After　you。〃
　〃Thanks。〃　John　Chen　walked　out　onto　the　tarmac。
　Yankee　2　towered　over　them；　its　dying　jets　now　a　muted　growl。　A　ground　crew　was　easing　the　tall；　motor…driven　gangway　into　place。　Through　the　small　cockpit　windows　they　could　see　the　dimly　lit　pilots。　To　one　side；　in　the　shadows；　was　John　Chen's　dark　blue　Silver　Cloud　Rolls；　the　uniformed　Chinese　chauffeur　standing　beside　the　door；　a　policeman　nearby。
　The　main　cabin　door　of　the　aircraft　swung　open　and　a　uniformed　steward　came　out　to　greet　the　two　airport　officials　who　were　waiting　on　the　platform。　He　handed　one　of　the　officials　a　pouch　with　the　airplane's　documents　and　arrival　manifests；　and　they　began　to　chat　affably。　Then　they　all　stopped。　Deferentially。　And　saluted　politely。
　The　girl　was　tall；　smart；　exquisite　and　American。
　Armstrong　whistled　quietly。　〃Ayeeyah！〃
　〃Bartlett's　got　taste；〃　John　Chen　muttered；　his　heart　quickening。
　They　watched　her　e　down　the　stairs；　both　men　lost　in　masculine　musings。
　〃You　think　she's　a　model？〃
　〃She　moves　like　one。　A　movie　star；　maybe？〃
　John　Chen　walked　forward。　〃Good　evening。　I'm　John　Chen　of　Struan's。　I'm　meeting　Mr。　Bartlett　and　Mr。　Tchuluck。〃
　〃Oh　yes　of　course；　Mr。　Chen。　This's　very　kind　of　you；　sir；　particularly　on　a　Sunday。　I'm　pleased　to　meet　you。　I'm　K。　C。　Tcholok。　Linc　says　if　you　。。。〃
　〃Casey　Tchuluck？〃　John　Chen　gaped　at　her。　〃Eh？〃
　〃Yes；〃　she　said；　her　smile　nice；　patiently　passing　over　the　mispronunciation。　〃You　see　my　initials　are　K。　C。；　Mr。　Chen；　so　Casey　became　my　nickname。〃　She　turned　her　eyes　on　Armstrong。　〃Evening。　You're　also　from　Struan's？〃　Her　voice　was　melodious。
　〃Oh；　er；　excuse