jamesclavell.noblehouse-第6部分

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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　me；　this；　this　is　Superintendent　Armstrong；〃　John　Chen　stuttered；　still　trying　to　recover。
　〃Evening；〃　Armstrong　said；　noticing　that　she　was　even　more　attractive　close　up。　〃Wele　to　Hong　Kong。〃
　〃Thank　you。　Superintendent？　That's　police？〃　Then　the　name　clicked　into　place。　〃Ah；　Armstrong。　Robert　Armstrong？　Chief　of　CID　Kowloon？〃
　He　covered　his　surprise。　〃You're　very　well　informed；　Miss　Tcholok。〃
　She　laughed。　〃Just　part　of　my　routine。　When　I　go　to　a　new　place；　particularly　one　like　Hong　Kong；　it's　my　job　to　be　prepared　。。。　so　I　just　sent　for　your　current　listings。〃
　〃We　don't　have　published　listings。〃
　〃I　know。　But　the　Hong　Kong　Government　puts　out　a　government　phone　book　which　anyone　can　buy　for　a　few　pennies。　I　just　sent　for　one　of　those。　All　police　departments　are　listed　…　heads　of　departments；　most　with　their　home　numbers　…　along　with　every　other　government　office。　I　got　one　through　your　Hong　Kong　PR　office　in　New　York。〃
　〃Who's　head　of　Special　Branch？〃　he　asked；　testing　her。
　〃I　don't　know。　I　don't　think　that　department　was　listed。　Is　it？〃
　〃Sometimes。〃
　A　slight　frown　stood　in　her　eyes。　〃You　greet　all　private　airplanes；　Superintendent？〃
　〃Only　those　I　wish　to。〃　He　smiled　at　her。　〃Only　those　with　pretty；　well…informed　ladies　aboard。〃
　〃Something's　wrong？　There's　trouble？〃
　〃Oh　no；　just　routine。　Kai　Tak's　part　of　my　responsibility；〃　Armstrong　said　easily。　〃May　I　see　your　passport　please？〃
　〃Of　course。〃　Her　frown　deepened　as　she　opened　her　handbag　and　handed　her　U。S。　passport　over。
　Years　of　experience　made　his　inspection　very　detailed　indeed。　〃Born　Providence；　Rhode　Island；　November　25；　1936；　height　5　feet　8　inches；　hair　blond；　eyes　hazel。〃　Passport's　valid　with　two　years　left　to　run。　Twenty…six；　eh？　I'd've　guessed　younger；　though　there's　a　strangeness　to　her　eyes　if　you　look　closely。
　With　apparent　haphazardness　he　flipped　carelessly　through　the　pages。　Her　three…month　Hong　Kong　visa　was　current　and　in　order。　A　dozen　immigration　visa　stamps；　all　England；　France；　Italy　or　South　American。　Except　one。　USSR；　dated　July　this　year。　A　seven…day　visit。　He　recognized　the　Moscow　frank。　〃Sergeant　Lee！〃
　〃Yes　sir？〃
　〃Get　it　stamped　for　her；〃　he　said　casually；　and　smiled　down　at　her。　〃You're　all　cleared。　You　may　stay　more　or　less　as　long　as　you　like。　Towards　the　end　of　three　months　just　go　to　the　nearest　police　station　and　we'll　extend　your　visa　for　you。〃
　〃Thanks　very　much。〃
　〃You'll　be　with　us　for　a　while？〃
　〃That　depends　on　our　business　deal；〃　Casey　said　after　a　pause。　She　smiled　at　John　Chen。　〃We　hope　to　be　in　business　for　a　long　time。〃
　John　Chen　said；　〃Yes。　Er；　we　hope　so　too。〃　He　was　still　nonplussed；　his　mind　churning。　It's　surely　not　possible　for　Casey　Tcholok　to　be　a　woman；　he　thought。
　Behind　them　the　steward；　Sven　Svensen；　came　bouncing　down　the　stairs；　carrying　two　air　suitcases。　〃Here　you　are；　Casey。　You're　sure　this's　enough　for　tonight？〃
　〃Yes。　Sure。　Thanks；　Sven。〃
　〃Linc　said　for　you　to　go　on。　You　need　a　hand　through　Customs？〃
　〃No　thanks。　Mr。　John　Chen　kindly　met　us。　Also；　Superintendent　Armstrong；　head　of　Kowloon　CID。〃
　〃Okay。〃　Sven　studied　the　policeman　thoughtfully　for　a　moment。　〃I'd　better　get　back。〃
　〃Everything　all　right？〃　she　asked。
　〃I　think　so。〃　Sven　Svensen　grinned。　〃Customs're　just　checking　our　stocks　of　booze　and　cigarettes。〃　Only　four　things　were　subject　to　any　import　license　or　customs　duty　in　the　Colony　…　gold；　liquor；　tobacco　and　gasoline　…　and　only　one　contraband　…　apart　from　narcotics　…　and　totally　forbidden：　all　forms　of　firearms　and　ammunition。
　Casey　smiled　up　at　Armstrong。　〃We've　no　rice　aboard；　Superintendent。　Linc　doesn't　eat　it。〃
　〃Then　he's　in　for　a　bad　time　here。〃
　She　laughed　then　turned　back　to　Svensen。　〃See　you　tomorrow。　Thanks。〃
　〃9　a。m。　on　the　dot！〃　Svensen　went　back　to　the　airplane　and　Casey　turned　to　John　Chen。
　〃Linc　said　for　us　not　to　wait　for　him。　Hope　that's　all　right；〃　she　said。
　〃Eh？〃
　〃Shall　we　go？　We're　booked　into　the　Victoria　and　Albert　Hotel；　Kowloon。〃　She　began　to　pick　up　her　bags　but　a　porter　materialized　out　of　the　darkness　and　took　them　from　her。　〃Linc'll　e　later　。。。　or　tomorrow。〃
　John