'What you get, if the Portuguese bomber who doesn't believe in God or superstition isn't very careful indeed, is one arrested Portuguese bomber!' He said, satisfied, 'So let's get on with it, shall we?' He went towards lie nearest police car and reached inside for the radiotelephone. He said aloud to himself, 'First, the Special Branch man—' He pressed the transmit button on the radio and asked to be patched through to Humphrey Ho. He said into the microphone, 'Urgent.' He glanced back at O'Yee still standing by the main entrance and called back, 'And for God's sake, don't say, "I hope you know what you're doing!"'

  O'Yee shook his head.

  A voice at the other end of the radio connection said, 'Hotel Baker One, this is Sierra Baker One, Chief Inspector Ho—'

  The enthusiastic look had gone from Feiffer's face. It had been replaced by something harder. He said decisively into the radio, 'Ho? Harry Feiffer. I want a favour.'

  O'Yee glanced across the cemetery towards the ruined church. He looked at his watch. It was 3.30 pm.

  O'Yee tried to light a cigarette. He had a strange feeling at the back of his neck and spine, like a tingling. It made his hands shake.

  Humphrey Ho said incredulously, 'Ye Gods, Harry, you can't possibly be serious—!!'

  12

  O'Yee said, aghast, 'A what? Ho's laying on a what?' He said, 'Do you mean to say you got in touch with Ho and ordered him to—' He said unbelievingly, 'Do you mean a full scale riot?'

  Feiffer said, 'Hmm.' He looked pleased with himself.

  O'Yee said, 'You must be crazy! What's a riot supposed to do?'

  'It's supposed to stop Mendoza.'

  '—a riot!' O'Yee said suddenly, 'They won't come.' He shook his head. 'They won't come.' He thought of the beach at Hop Pei Cove. 'No.' He said to Feiffer a little less loudly, 'They won't come.' He sounded relieved, 'No. Thank God. That'd be the end of you, Harry—if they did. The Commander'd have your balls for breakfast!'

  Feiffer said, 'Don't worry about it.' He began walking unhurriedly in the direction of the cemetery entrance.

  'Where are you going?' O'Yee said, 'Listen! They won't come! Forget it!'

  'OK.'

  'Don't be so smug! They won't come! Leave it!' He almost pleaded, 'Look, just pay him the money and—'

  Feiffer paused at the entrance. He said softly to O'Yee, 'All going well, I'll see you a little later.' He went through the entrance, past the police cars, and began walking at the same easy pace across the graveyard to the ruined church on the hill.

  O'Yee hesitated. He glanced over at Spencer and Auden. He looked down the street. No one was coming. He knew they wouldn't. Not the Chinese.

  Not them.

  O'Yee was in charge. He looked around anxiously.

  *

  Mendoza said, smiling, 'How nice, they've let you come for a chat.' He glanced at the dog by his side in the dank little church—all the windows were smashed and he had a clear view of the rows of Chinese tombs and headstones from one and the police and their cars from the other—and said patronisingly, 'Mr Feiffer, isn't it? We have met, but you probably don't recall—' He left the sentence unfinished and smiled again'

  It was a very small church, smaller inside than it seemed to be from outside. There were a few rows of broken and rotting pews left in place and a stone lump where the altar had been, even a small oak harmonium to one side covered in dust and masonry chippings. There was a little curtain separating the entrance to the bell tower. It was red, a thick material gone frayed and rotten with age. Small animals had been in the church: there were dried droppings on the flagstoned floor. Mendoza said urbanely, 'Mr Feiffer . . . ?'

  Feiffer looked at him. He saw the walkie-talkie style transmitter in Mendoza's hand. In his other hand there was something else. It was the battery powered toothbrush. Mendoza said, 'If you've quite finished your little inspection, I'd like to have a little chat about the method of delivering the money.' He said pleasantly, 'If you don't find it too inconvenient.'

  Feiffer nodded. He went to one of the windows—the one facing the street—and looked out.

  'It's all for show.' He patted the dog, became bored, and sat at the end of one of the pews. He said, 'The rifles aren't loaded.' The dog came up and sat down docilely on the flagstones beside him. Mendoza ,said, 'No need to feel so thwarted, Harry.' He asked, 'I may call you Harry, may I?'

  Feiffer looked at him. He didn't like what he saw. 'Where's the gun?'

  'What gun?'

  'Your gun. The Mauser.' He said, 'One 7.63mm Mauser broomhandle automatic pistol, serial number 551296. Where is it?'

  Mendoza said, 'You've checked the Arms Licence!'

  'I checked the Arms Licence. Where's the weapon?'

  Mendoza smiled. He nodded to the dog and then patted him on the head. He thought he had been right to pick Feiffer as the one to deal with on the lower level. He was thorough. If you wanted something from someone, thoroughness was another way of saying slavish predictability. He had been, as usual, utterly right. Mendoza said, 'At the quarry, of course. It's not supposed to be removed from the premises.' He said, 'Would I do anything illegal? It's still at the quarry.' He glanced surreptitiously out of the window at the police cars and repeated, 'It's not here.' He asked, 'Did you expect it would be?'

  'I'm in two minds about it'

  'Send someone to the quarry to check.'

  'The security safe where the gun is kept is locked. You've got the keys.'

  'So I do!' Mendoza said, 'I threw them away.' He glanced again at the cars and police a distance away at the cemetery entrance and said quickly, 'I haven't got the gun. OK?'

  'No, it isn't OK.'

  'Well what do you expect me to do about it?'

  Feiffer said, 'I expect you to give me the keys so I can send someone around to verify that the weapon is where it's supposed to be.'

  'I threw the keys away!'

  'Did you?'

  'Yes!' The dog got up and moved forward restively. Mendoza restrained him, 'I threw them away.' He said, 'I haven't got a gun. All right?'

  Feiffer said evenly, 'I take it that the transmitter in your hand is the detonating device?'

  Mendoza nodded. He smiled.

  'And the other thing—just what purpose does that serve?' It was the battery toothbrush. It seemed to have been amended in some way—Feiffer was no expert on electric toothbrushes, but somehow it didn't look right—it was screwed onto a length of wood with two clamps on it. Feiffer said, 'Well?'

  Mendoza smiled at him. Mendoza said, 'You'll probably never know.'

  'What does that mean?' Feiffer walked unhurriedly towards the harmonium and ran his hand along it. It was thick with dust and there was rot in it. A section of the veneer came off in his hand. 'Well? What does that mean?'

  'You can't jump me, Harry. Not before I press the button.'

  Feiffer said, 'I see.' He walked towards the curtained bell tower and stopped. He glanced back at Mendoza's face. Mendoza had stood up to keep him in view, but there was no alarm on his face. Feiffer said, 'Why political?'

  'I was wondering when you were going to get to that.'

  'Oh, I know why you did it. I was just hoping to hear your rationalisation—' He stopped. 'What "rationalisation" means is—'

  'I know what it means! Don't you think I'm stupid!' He put a hand on the dog's neck to keep him under control. 'Don't you start trying to be clever with me! I'm a European, not one of your stupid little Chinks!' He ordered Feiffer, 'Just you remember that!'

  Feiffer said, 'If the Chinese knew what you were up to here, bombs or no bombs, they'd tear you to ribbons—'

  'But they're not going to know, are they?'

  'Hence "political".'

  'Hence "political".' Mendoza said, 'It's a matter between European gentlemen.' He said suddenly candidly, 'I'm not even so certain the Chinks would care about the graves anyway. Europeans might think they would, but I'm not so sure they would at all.'

  'So I've been told just a few minutes ago by someone else.'

  Mendoza said, 'They're stupid, you see. The Chinks.' Feiffer moved towards the altar and touched the surface of the stone stump. Mendoza said, 'Stop walking!' (Feiffer stopped and turned to look at him.) Mendoza moved a little into the light of one of the empty windows. In his civilian clothes, he looked like a tall, well-dressed, smooth-faced lizard. He had no lines on his face at all. He said, 'Do you want me to tell you about the Chinks, Harry? I'd be delighted.' He said, 'I know all about them and their superstitions—'

  'From your friend Mr Tam?'

  'That leper!' Mendoza said, 'Come over here! Stand by the window!' He said, 'I'll tell you all about them.' His voice changed. It dropped, became intimate. He said, 'Listen, Harry, you don't have to pretend you think they're as good as us with me.' He said, 'I'm a fellow European, I know the truth.' He said coaxingly, 'You don't have to pretend with me.'

  Feiffer glanced up at the roof. It was crossbeamed with old, black timber gone rotten. He glanced at his watch.

  Mendoza said, 'Listen!'

  Feiffer gazed at him. He knew the gun was there somewhere. He kept trying to find the place it might be hidden.

  *

  O'Yee glanced down the street. It was cordoned off at both ends. He thought, "They won't come." He looked over at Auden and Spencer and the ineffectual rifles. He thought, "It's Feiffer thinking he knows all about the Chinese. About graves and burials and the importance of superstition." He thought, "But he's wrong. It's all right for Conway Kan to say I was right about the bodies in the water, but the ordinary people don't care." He thought, "They were just there for the morbid pleasure of it." He thought, "No one really believes in those things any more." He thought, "Oh they all buy lottery tickets and talk about luck and good numbers, but when it comes to the big things they just don't care." He thought, "They won't come." He thought, "If they do and there's a riot, it'll be the end of Feiffer."

  He thought, "No one'll come."

  He thought, "No." He glanced back down the street.

  Apart from the police, it was deserted.

  *

  Mendoza put the battery toothbrush in the pocket of his shirt. He looked hopefully at Feiffer. Feiffer couldn't think what purpose it could possibly serve. Mendoza said, 'No?' He patted the pocket and glanced down at the tone-send button on the transmitter in his hand. 'Where's Conway Kan now?'

  Feiffer said, 'He's getting the money.'

  'Hmm.' Mendoza said donnishly, 'What you don't seem to understand, Harry—or what you make out for the sake of appearances that you don't understand, is that the Chinese are garbage.' He nodded to himself in absolute seriousness. 'People like the Chinese are only there to be made use of.' He said, 'As a European you appreciate that.' He said, 'Of course, you do. That's why the European police here take bribes—' He added, 'I happen to know it doesn't happen at your station for some reason, but it happens everywhere else. The reason it happens is that Europeans, once they get here, realise that as far as civilised societies are concerned, anything that happens in Hong Kong or Macao or places like that—where there are Chinks—just isn't on the same wavelength. It just doesn't matter. It's a sign of strength, understanding the niggers—it just doesn't matter—'

  'Oh, yes?'

  'Yes.'

  'It's not because the people who are as corrupt as hell are usually people who have always been corrupt as hell anywhere? He said, 'I can think of one or two notable examples off hand.' He said more for his own benefit, 'If you consider the Welsh to be Europeans.' He glanced at Mendoza, saw he didn't know what he meant and that he didn't like not knowing, and said, 'Go on with your theory.'

  Mendoza said, 'I'm going to blow up their cemetery and there's nothing you can do about it!'

  'I don't suppose there is.' Mendoza hadn't liked not knowing. Feiffer said ingratiatingly, 'I just wanted to meet you. You out-manoeuvred me all down the line and I wanted to meet you before you left.' He said, 'I assume you are leaving the Colony?'

  'No.'

  'Oh?'

  Mendoza said, 'Why should I?' He said, 'I understand them: the Chinks. I'm staying. I'm going to buy a house on the Peak and live in full view.'

  'Are you serious?',

  Mendoza said, 'They like being tricked, the Chinks. They spend their lives trying to trick people and trying to lord it over them—' He said, 'The way they do at the quarry. Thirty years ago I would have been in charge of that place! But I have to say this for them: once they know you know you're better than they are, that you're cleverer, that you've out-tricked them better than they ever could have done, then they respect you.' He said to Feiffer, 'I'll be all right. I'll live in luxury and respect for the rest of my life.' He said quietly, 'You have to admit the whole thing's absolutely brilliant—the immunity and everything.' He said, 'It's really absolutely brilliant.' He said realistically, 'I suppose I'll have to have a few personal bodyguards, but then everyone does.'

  Feiffer paused. He said, 'Let me understand this—you intend to extort almost a million American dollars from someone on the threat that you destroy this cemetery. Right?'

  Mendoza said happily, 'Yes.'

  'On the assumption that, in reality, he, like the rest of the Chinese, really don't give a stuff about it—'

  'Good, yes! Good!'

  'And because he doesn't give a stuff about it, he isn't going to tell anyone that he paid the money and you'll be able to live on here safely? Is that the theory?'

  Mendoza nodded. Really, a man like Feiffer would be an ideal—Mendoza said, 'Yes, yes!'

  'Hence political, to enable Conway Kan to keep it quiet'

  'Correct.'

  Feiffer paused. He said, 'You're right, it is bloody brilliant' He asked, 'But why should Conway Kan bother to pay the money if what you say about the Chinese is true? Why not just let you blow it to hell?'

  Mendoza said, 'Because he wants to keep in with the Europeans who do believe that the Chinese care about superstition!' He said, 'Do you see? It's perfect!'

  Feiffer said quietly, 'Why not just hold a person to ransom?' He said evenly, 'This all seems a bit complicated when you could have achieved the same ends—even immunity—by something a lot simpler?' He said piercingly, 'Or is there one little variable in this equation that you'd rather have left out?' He said, 'Something that has some sort of bearing on that thing in your shirt pocket' He said, 'And on the gun you claim you don't have?' He put it to Mendoza, 'If you're so bloody brilliant, why didn't you leave the keys to the security safe at the quarry so we could make sure the gun was there?'

  Mendoza said irritably, 'What's the gun got to do with it? Forget about the gun! It's the rest of it—it's genius! Isn't it? I really used them, didn't I? The Chinks! I've really ground them into the dirt!'

  Feiffer sniffed. He kept wondering about the electric toothbrush. It seemed totally incongruous, out of place. He glanced at Mendoza's hand around the walkie-talkie. The knuckles gripping it were white with strain. Feiffer said, 'What are you frightened of?'

  'I'm not afraid of anything!'

  'Then why have you got the gun hidden here somewhere? And why won't you tell me the purpose of that thing in your pocket?' Feiffer said, 'And why go for a complicated plan when you could have achieved the same ends by a simple one?' He asked, 'Is it because if you threatened the life of a human being the police would have the right to shoot you?'

  Mendoza's face knotted. There was a tiny nerve under his eye. He swallowed.

  Feiffer said, 'People who kill by stealth are always cowards.' He said quietly, 'That's been my experience.' He asked Mendoza softly, 'So what are you frightened of?'

  *

  O'Yee rubbed his cheek with his hand. He looked along the road. He thought they wouldn't come. He thought, "I don't know. I'm not sure." He thought, "Why do it? It's crazy!" He thought, "He must have been insane getting Ho to organise a riot." He thought, "Even a crowd!" He thought, "They won't come!" He thought, "Fucking Chinese! They don't even care!" He thought, "Maybe they'll come." He thought, "I don't know!" He went to the Emergency Unit van and ordered the ammunition issued for the Armalite rifles. He glanced at the Chinese Constables. They did nothing.

  He thought, "They won't come." He looked across at the church. It was silent and dark. God only knew what was happening in there. He thought, "Well that's appropriate anyway."

  Auden and Spencer had full magazines of cartridges in their hands. They hesitated before snapping them into the Armalites. Spencer put his on the ground.

  O'Yee thought, "I've got to do something." He glanced at the Chinese Constables. He had no idea what they were thinking. One of them undid the flap button on his holster and ran his hand over the butt of his Police Positive. O'Yee thought, "Maybe they're on my side." He glanced at Yan. Yan nodded. He had been the one with the flap.

  O'Yee threw a quick look in the direction of the church. He thought suddenly, "I've got to do something—"

  He shouted out in a stentorian voice, 'Load your weapons!'

  *

  Mendoza screamed at Feiffer, 'What are they doing?' There was a terrible fear in his eyes. His hand shook on the plastic body of the walkie-talkie. He touched at the toothbrush in his pocket. He shouted at Feiffer, 'I'm not threatening anybody!'

  Feiffer said quickly, 'They're getting ready.' He thought, "O'Yee's jumped the gun!" He tried to make the right move. He said clearly and loudly, 'I've laid on a riot. I've had the word passed that you're going to destroy this place and there are three thousand people coming with the sole intention of tearing your heart out. The police are getting ready to protect you if you give yourself up.' He said, 'You've got about fifteen minutes to decide. After that you'll be on your own and there'll be no one. The police are going to leave.' He said to Mendoza, 'If you're so afraid of dying then you're in big trouble.' He said, 'It isn't going to be done quietly between gentlemen— people are going to come here and kill you.'

  'Nonsense!'

  Feiffer said, 'They're coming. I spoke to someone on the radio before I came here and they're coming. You've got about fifteen minutes to make up your mind to surrender.'

  Mendoza paused. Feiffer could hear his breath coming in short spasms. The dog looked from one of them to the other in confusion. He didn't know what to do either. Mendoza said, They won't come!'

 

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