There was another pause, then the Commander said, 'I don't think you've yet quite got the total picture, Harry: I don't want anything released to the newspapers.' The Commander said, 'It's a total news blackout; there isn't any question at all of an alternate version.' He asked, 'Is that clear?' He asked, 'What have you got on the bomb?'

  'There were two bombs.' Feiffer said, 'They were both bombs, both of the cans, one at either end of the bridge. He just waited for a copper to pick one up, locked that one at safe with his little radio set and then fired off the other one.' He said, 'No doubt he was the person who reported cans being thrown over the bridge to lure someone cut.' He said before the Commander could ask, 'I've checked, the call went through the main switchboard at the police number 999 and nobody recalls whether it was even a man or a woman.' He said, 'It was anonymous and, needless to say, the voice was disguised.'

  'I see.'

  Feiffer said, 'The intact bomb worked by an electromagnetic escapement device sold for radio controlled model airplanes.' He said, 'According to the first model shop I rang they said they've sold over five hundred of them in the last six months alone.' He said, 'They cost virtually nothing, so sales are cash.' He added, 'And the gelignite used was composed of four quarter pound sections of four one pound sticks, cut along the batch numbers, so there's nothing there either.' He said finally, 'The intact bomb was covered, as usual, in fingerprints, so he doesn't care.' He said suddenly, 'And we're helping him.'

  'Pardon?'

  'Helping him. I can't help feeling that he's using us to assist him do whatever it is he's got in mind to do.' Feiffer said, 'It's all just a little too pat: the letters to me and then the dud bomb, and then arranging a set-up on the bridge.' He said, 'It's all just a little too neat. He wants something from us, from the police, and so far, since we haven't had anything even vaguely resembling a demand or a complaint, I have the horrible feeling that we're giving it to him.' He said acidly, 'I mean, the news blackout.' He said, 'I'm sure he wants that. I'm sure that's what this "political" business is all about.'

  The Commander said, 'To forestall publicity?'

  'I'm sure of it.'

  'Why? For what reason?'

  Feiffer said, I don't know!'

  'Hmmm.'

  Feiffer said, 'Well?'

  There was a pause.

  Feiffer said, 'He's got something planned that's best done out of the light of other people's knowledge. He's got a final victim or object in mind that he can't afford to have known about—'

  'When? Now? Or at the time?'

  'I don't know. Maybe both. I just don't know.'

  There was another, longer, silence. The Commander sat at his desk in his office in Kowloon looking out at the harbour through his picture window. He lit a cigarette thoughtfully.

  Feiffer said quietly, 'Look, Neal, I realise the position you're in, but I should remind you that a number of people who are definitely not political have already been bumped off. Surely that balances the fact that someone who is political might be?' He waited.

  The Commander paused. He said slowly, 'That sort of question leads to questions about the worth of one human being against another. It's not the sort of line of philosophical enquiry I enjoy having put to me.'

  Feiffer said, 'I need help from the public, from witnesses.'

  'What other leads are you following at the moment?'

  'None.'

  'What about that man Wong? His brother?'

  'Wong's brother is in Macao. I've told you. He's out of it. He hasn't been in a position to get explosives for ages.' Feiffer said, 'We've got nothing.'

  'And there was no note in the bridge bomb?'

  'There didn't really have to be, did there? I mean, the message was obvious enough. It says, "Look, Ma, I can make bombs." Neal, give me the chance and even if there is a political angle to it maybe I can catch him before he gets to it—'

  'No.'

  Feiffer said bitterly, 'So we're investigating a water main explosion—'

  'You're investigating nothing! Officially, nothing has happened.'

  'It's as bad as that, is it?'

  The Commander said, 'Do you really want me to give you a quick run-down on the current state of Hong Kong politics?' He said, 'No, we're holding it down.'

  'And that's final?'

  'Unless you catch him and discover he's just a run-of-the-mill non-ideologised villain.'

  Feiffer said bitterly, 'To make non-political sabre toothed tiger stew . . .'

  'What does that mean?'

  'Nothing.'

  The Commander said, 'I'm sorry, Harry, I really am.' He said, The simple fact of the matter, whatever I may have the leisure to believe personally, is that some people are more important than others.' He said, That's the official view. It has been since the beginning of the world. Anything else is just pure indulgence.' He said unconvinced, 'You must know that.'

  'Yeah.'

  'Well, don't you?'

  Feiffer said, 'I'll give it some thought and let you know.'

  The Commander said, 'Look . . . um—'

  Feiffer said, 'Yeah.'

  He hung up.

  *

  There was a short, hushed pause (the minions holding their breath and suffocating in respectful silence?) and then Conway Kan's voice came on the line. He said quietly, 'Detective Senior Inspector O'Yee?'

  O'Yee laid his pen under the directory address of the twenty-third antique dealer in Hong Kong. 'Yes.'

  Conway Kan said, 'I am sorry to trouble you.' So far he had not announced who he was. (He was used to secretaries announcing him before he was put through.) 'I trust you had a restful night's sleep.'

  'I did, thank you, Mr Kan, and you?'

  Conway Kan said, 'I rested secure in the knowledge that a person I trusted had his protecting gaze upon my small trouble.' He said, 'I have not rung up, dear friend, in concern to oversee your enquiries or even enquire about them, but rather to re-affirm my faith in you.'

  O'Yee glanced at the open telephone directory. He said, 'Nothing so far.'

  'Ah.' Conway Kan said, 'I merely wished to tell you that, of course, I should quite understand should other more pressing duties overtake you.' He said, 'I refer, of course, to the recent happenings in the Hong Bay district.'

  'Oh?'

  'The explosions and loss of life.'

  O'Yee said quickly, 'They were gas and water main explosions.'

  There was a pause.

  O'Yee said, 'And the one outside the Post Office was a Tilley lamp exploding.'

  There was a sighing sound. (One of the minions gone red in the face from the pent-up breath and expiring on the lacquered floor.) Then Conway Kan said, I would understand if such matters took precedence.' He said, 'I had a nodding acquaintance with Mr Leung of the ivory shop, but I'm afraid I do not know Mr Wong.'

  'The chestnut seller?'

  'Hmm. The person who presumably brought the lamp to the Indian letter-writer for repair.' He said, 'I am better acquainted with Mr Tam, the late Mr Leung's partner.' He said unnecessarily, 'I know most people in business in the district.' He said, 'Poor Mr Tam contracted leprosy some years ago and was removed to Hei Ling Chau island, which, as you know, was until recently the place for those with that unfortunate illness.' He said, 'He is a man, in relation to this matter, of perfect innocence.' He said, 'I have known him for some time.'

  O'Yee thought, "Is there anything around here you don't know?" He said, 'I gather Mr Tam no longer figures in any enquiries the police may be making.'

  'May I tell him that?' Conway Kan said, 'He is an old man and a little upset that his final days may be disturbed by any suspicion of works not of merit.' He waited. He asked, 'Do I presume on you too much?' He said, 'I feel, as a Chinese, you may appreciate matters that are a little mysterious to your European colleagues.'

  'I think you may tell him that he is not suspected.'

  'I am grateful.' Conway Kan said, 'I am under a further obligation to you that you may call upon any time.'

  Now. O'Yee said, 'What else do you know about the explosions?'

  'You sound a trifle suspicious.'

  O'Yee said, 'One of the features that recommended me to you was my desire to do my job efficiently. I am attempting, albeit in another matter, to be equally efficient now.' He asked, 'Can you tell us anything about the matter?'

  'You, or "us"?'

  'The police.'

  There was a pause. Conway Kan said, 'Only that Mr Dien to whom the last letter bomb was addressed has told me he cannot think who would have wanted to do such a thing.' He said, 'Mr Dien and I are partners in a business enterprise.'

  O'Yee thought, "Feiffer should be taking this call." He thought, "Kan wouldn't talk to Feiffer." He tried to remember the briefing before the dud letter bomb had been opened. He said, 'Mr Dien is the owner of a funeral society.'

  'A cemetery.'

  'Yes.'

  Conway Kan said, 'He is in fact co-owner with myself.' He said, 'Mr Tam has a place reserved for when he dies.' He said, That is how I know him.' He said, 'It is a matter pertaining to the older Hong Kong families.' He said philosophically, 'Many of them are presently in reduced circumstances, but the family name continues.' He said, 'Apart from that, I know nothing.'

  'You have no idea who might be responsible for the—'

  'None at all.' Conway Kan said, 'I have heard, from indirect sources, that you are suffering an embarrassing time with the antique dealers.' He said, 'I regret that very much.'

  'It's all right.'

  Conway Kan said, 'Thank you, Mr O'Yee.' He said, 'If they are gas and water and lamp explosions, then, of course, they are gas and water and lamp explosions.' He said, 'However, amongst those concerned, word does get around.' He said, 'I wish your Chief Inspector success.' He said, 'Perhaps the man responsible is only a lunatic'

  'Perhaps.'

  Conway Kan said, 'Thank you for making the time to speak to me.'

  'Goodbye.'

  There was a pause. 'Goodbye, Mr O'Yee. And thank you.' O'Yee sighed. It was all too much for him.

  *

  Feiffer yelled at Auden, 'Will you bloodywell forget about bloody Special Branch!' He yelled at Auden, 'Who the hell do you think they represent? God?'

  Auden looked at O'Yee. O'Yee shook his head. O'Yee left. Auden said, 'I only thought we could ring them and see if they've come up with anything since we—'

  'No! They'll ring us if they've got anything! All right?' The hammering and drilling and smashing and tearing down started again and Feiffer stuck his head out of the open window and yelled, 'Shut up!' and, utterly miraculously, it stopped. Spencer said, 'Gosh... !'

  Auden said, 'Well, as far as I can see, the only connection between the people who have had bombs aimed at them is that they've all had bombs aimed at them.' He said, 'One ivory dealer, one chestnut seller, a letter-writer (by accident), you, and two cops.'

  Spencer said, 'And Dien.'

  Feiffer said, 'Or you.'

  'Pardon?'

  'What if the Post Office letter bomb was aimed at you?' Feiffer said, 'If this fellow's so bloody brilliant he must have realised that someone would have been checking the mail at the Post Office. So why wasn't the bomb you defused aimed at you?'

  Spencer said, 'Well, not necessarily me.' He asked Feiffer, 'You maybe?' He said, 'You're the one he addressed his letters to.'

  'Then why send me a second letter?'

  Auden said, 'He knows that senior officers don't stand around in Post Offices all night. He'd assume someone junior would have gone.' He glanced at Spencer significantly.

  Spencer said, 'Or you. You could have gone.' Auden shrugged. He thought he would definitely apply for Special Branch. Somewhere where he'd be appreciated. He thought, "A Special Branch man would have checked the second letter." He said, 'Maybe.'

  Feiffer said, 'The only frail connection I can see—' He said irritably in parenthesis, 'We have to assume there is some sort of connection—is that Dien owns a bloody cemetery and that one of the suspects, Tam, who is no longer a suspect, plans to be buried there.' He said hopelessly, 'Is there anything we can work on from that?'

  Auden the Special Branch man said, 'You must be bloody joking!'

  'I'm not bloody joking at all!'

  Spencer said conciliatingly, 'I don't think so, Harry. It's just a coincidence.' He said, 'After all, if a man owns a cemetery' (he corrected himself in the light of O'Yee's information) 'part-owns a cemetery, it follows that if you speak to enough people you're going to run across someone who has someone buried there or, in this case, is going to be buried there himself.' He asked politely, 'Don't you think so?'

  'Yeah,' Feiffer said, 'So far, Forensic taffies the total amount of explosives he's used as four and a half pounds.' He said, 'Since the stuff usually comes in one pound sticks, he's got at least half a pound left.' He said, 'That's either one big bang in a Coca-Cola can or three or four smaller bangs in manilla envelopes.' He said unhappily, 'Assuming that's all he's got. And we can't assume that.' He said to Auden, 'Before you ask, there haven't been any reported thefts of the stuff.' He said, 'Your old mate in Special Branch checked.' He said as his telephone rang, 'And you can't ask anyone on the street if they saw anything.' He picked up the phone and said, 'What?'

  A woman's voice said, 'I've got it!'

  'Pardon?'

  'Harry?'

  'Nicola?'

  Auden said, 'John? Marsha?' Spencer looked disapproving.

  Nicola said, 'I've got it this time and there's not a damn thing you can say!'

  Feiffer blinked.

  'Are you there, Harry?'

  'Yes, I'm here.'

  Nicola Feiffer said triumphantly, 'An ant farm!'

  'What about it?'

  'I'm going to get one to keep me company!'

  'Are you?'

  'Yes!'

  'Why?' (He thought instantly, "Oh, no, I've done it again!")

  'What do you mean, "why"?'

  'I'm sorry I said that.'

  'To keep me company while I sludge about in an oversized torpor of pure sludge carrying your precious brat when I should be thin and sexy and full of life and doing what I want to do! That's why!'

  Feiffer glanced around the Detectives' Room. Auden and Spencer both found something to do. (Spencer started ringing Frank. Auden stared out of the open window, thinking of Auden staring out of the open window.) Feiffer said softly, 'It wasn't only my idea. We decided on it together.' He said, 'I know it's hard for you to feel so, um—' He thought, "Get the right word" '—um, (non-productive? No. Useless? Oh my God—um . . . Bovine? Maybe. Bovine?—No!), 'Um—'

  'Non-productive, useless and bloody bovine!' Nicola Feiffer said, 'So I'm getting an ant farm to keep me company.' She said, 'Surely to God that doesn't come under the heading in the lease of keeping pets!'

  Feiffer said, 'No.'

  'No?' She sounded surprised.

  Feiffer said with great trepidation, 'That comes under the heading of infestation.'

  Outside, the hammering, drilling and tearing down started again and, mercifully, the noise was so intense he could hardly make out what she said back at all.

  *

  On the eastern side of Hong Bay, crossing over Great Shanghai Road from the direction of the Aberdeen Road seawall, there is an old disused brick drainage sewer that was built by Army engineers in the last quarter of the nineteenth century. You can see where it passes under the pavement by the line of rusted-up gratings that begin near the end of Formasa Street, pass over Matsu Lane into Amoy Lane and then go off in the direction of the Bay. No one has ever found an alternate use for the drain (which is the last remaining tunnel in what was once a fairly substantial system to drain reclaimed land) and it is—and has been for a very long time—largely forgotten. There were probably plans of the system in a dusty cardboard cylinder in the City Engineers Office at one time, but it is extremely likely that, like a lot of obsolete records, they were destroyed by the Japanese bombing of Hong Kong during the Second World War or used by someone for some more pressing sanitary need in the Occupation which followed.

  The person in the Matsu Lane sewers, in any event, had no such plans. He knew where he was going, had paced the line of the drain out by the pavement gratings, and, carrying a largish parcel in his hand, knew where he was. He was directly under the intersection of Matsu Lane and Great Shanghai Road, moving slowly and carefully, bending his neck slightly to avoid the low brick roof, counting out his steps meticulously accurately in the water-dripping darkness.

  *

  Feiffer said wearily, 'We'll go and see Wong again in hospital and then Dien in the Street of Undertakers.' He said to Spencer, 'You take Wong,' and to Auden, 'You're Dien.'

  He said, 'For what it's worth I'll go and see Tam and probably scare the life out of him again.' He glanced at Auden and Spencer and said without enthusiasm, 'Get on with it.'

  He stood up and put his coat on.

  *

  The person in the sewer passed under an iron grating in Matsu Lane and ducked his head to avoid anyone seeing him as they passed over. The light from the grating showed the circular line of the roof into the next section of the tunnel and he went on, cradling his package in his hands. He disturbed something loose with his shoulder and it click-clicked onto the brick floor in a little cloud of dust: a loose chipping, and then something made a rustling sound and a faint squeaking and brushed past his ankles: a rat. Something a little behind the person made a sudden motion and then the squeaking stopped. The sound of the person's feet on the brick floor were muffled by the steady noise of traffic a long way above. The person stopped and put his palm up against the roof. It was warm from the traffic, and there was a steady vibration as taxis and cars, buses and the odd rickshaw went over and left their heat to seep down through the pavement and roadway.

  The person stopped and worked out his bearings. He was at the eastern end of Matsu Lane, below the branch office of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank on the corner. The person thought about the strong room somewhere above his head and smiled. The contents of the strongroom seemed very trivial. He took another six steps and calculated he was under the main entrance to the bank. He indulged himself for a few moments thinking about the looks on people's faces, then became efficient again and went on another thirty steps.

 

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