Barbara Faith - Kiss of the dragon (3 page)

He got up suddenly and went to stand before one of the windows. He looked out and for a long moment he didn't speak.

It was quiet in the salon. Bethany could feel the slight motion of the waves and hear the splash of water against the hull when a boat headed out of the harbor. She swirled the brandy in her snifter, waiting for Tiger to speak.

Finally he turned to her and said, "I asked you once if your father ever spoke of the time he spent in China with the Flying Tigers. Do you know anything at all about those days, Bethany?"

She shook her head. "I know Dad was one of the Flying Tigers, but that's about all because he never seemed to want to talk about it. I've read about the Tigers, enough to know that General Chennault formed the group to help Chiang Kai-shek against the Japanese. Dad mentioned once that at first he flew out of a place called Hengchow and that later the head-quarters were in Kunming. I've seen pictures of the planes—with the shark mouths painted on them but I never understood why they used a shark if they were called Flying Tigers."

"The tiger is the national symbol of China," he explained, "and the shark was considered bad luck to the maritime Japanese." He came back to the sofa and stood looking down at her for a moment. "Those were dangerous years,
Bethany,"
he said at last. "Half of the planes the men flew looked as though they belonged in a museum. Most of the time they couldn't get spare parts; they went into the air on the proverbial wing and a prayer. The runways were almost as dangerous as the Japanese. It took sixty days for 120,000 coolies to scratch out a runway in Hengchow."

Tiger's black brows came together in a frown as he shook his head. "Can you imagine what it must have been like? How dangerous it was'trying to fight an aerial war in those beat-up, patched-up planes? Landing on bumpy, rock-strewn airstrips in the middle of nowhere?"

Tiger poured a small amount of brandy for himself and drank it down. "But the Tigers hung on, even when Shanghai fell in 1937 and Chungking became the Nationalist war capital. What they lacked in military discipline they made up for in courage." He took her hand. "Our fathers were brave men; they did a lot of things we should be proud of."

Her eyes were moist. "I know," she said in a shaky voice,

"But they did other things, things that were not always honorable, that in those days were an accepted way of life."

"I don't understand. What are you trying to tell me?"

"That both of our fathers engaged in smuggling."

"Smuggling?" Bethany glared at him. "They may have traded on the black market but that wasn't really smuggling."

"Wasn't it? Whatever you choose to call it, Bethany, it was illegal. They smuggled jewels, works of art, gold and fine silks. They made a lot of money, enough for both of our fathers to go into business after the war."

Bethany's gray eyes narrowed in anger. "Are you trying to tell me my father was a crook?" she snapped.

"No, I'm trying to tell you the way it was." Tiger stood up abruptly and said, "Let's get some air." He took her hand and led her out of the salon onto the deck. As they stood looking out over the water Tiger continued, "Your father sent you to Hong Kong because there was something he wanted you to know, something he wanted you to do."

When Bethany didn't answer Tiger put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so that she would face him. "We cannot judge what our fathers did because the times were so different then. They lived with danger every day of their lives. Perhaps the excitement of smuggling... of black marketeering took their minds off the fact that the next time they went up they might never come back."

Bethany tried to step away from him, but Tiger held her. "One of the things they smuggled was a statue from the Sung dynasty. Warlords had been fighting over it since the eleventh century. It has fallen into
many different hands in the last few hundred years and caused many deaths."

Bethany tried to struggle out of his grip but his hands tightened. "The statue is of a golden dragon. Our fathers brought it from Sichuan to Nanchang on consignment. But the man who hired them was murdered before they could deliver it. So they kept it." His voice lowered to an almost whisper. "Forty years ago the golden dragon had a market value of half a million dollars. Today its value has quadrupled."

Tiger released his grip on her arms. "The golden dragon is in China, Bethany, in the same place our fathers hid it over forty years ago."

"But if..." Bethany moistened her lips. "But if what you say is true, why didn't they take it out years ago?"

"There was a war going on. They couldn't have sold anything that valuable at that time, so they left it there until after the war. But after the war the world changed; China became a communist country and Chiang Kai-shek fled to Taiwan. China was closed to foreigners, and no one could get in or out."

"But China opened up later," Bethany said. "Why didn't they go after it then?"

"I have asked myself the same question. The only reason I could come up with is that maybe, after all these years, they realized how dangerous it might be to go after it."

"Dangerous?" Bethany looked at him. "But my father gave me the key. He wanted me to get the statue."

"It will take two keys to open the place where it is hidden," Tiger said. "I have the other key. I will go after the dragon."

Bethany took a deep breath to steady herself because she knew that what he'd told her was true. She believed there really was a golden dragon. And if there was, then part of it belonged to her, as part of the risk belonged to her.

She looked into his jade-green eyes and said, "When you go after the dragon, I'm going with you."

Chapter 3

"
T
hat's impossible!"

"Why?" Bethany faced him, hands on her hips, chin thrust forward.

"Because it will probably be dangerous."

She shook her head impatiently, obvious disbelief written on her face. "If you're willing to face danger to claim your half of the dragon then so am I. If the dragon is where our fathers left it we just go and get it. We..." She stopped. "You
do
know where the dragon is, don't you?"

Tiger shook his head. "But I'm sure my mother does. I think she has known for years but she has never touched it because she disapproved when our fathers decided to keep the dragon." He faced Bethany. "I will go to Kwantung and talk to Mother and tell her about you. I will show her your father's letter and she will understand that it is time to get the dragon."

Tiger
hesitated, then attempting to make Bethany understand said, "If there is any danger it's better that I go alone, no one will be curious about me. I'm half Chinese and can move about freely. I'll get the dragon and bring it back here to Hong Kong. Then we'll locate a dealer, and when it's sold we'll divide whatever it brings."

Bethany nodded. "That part's agreeable, Ti
ger. But not the part about you
going to China alone. When you go I'm going with you."

Tiger's jaw clenched. "No, you're not," he said firmly. "You will stay here in Hong Kong and wait until I return."

"No, I won't!"

Tiger glared at her. Her father had said she'd been overprotected and that he didn't know how she'd manage on her own, but from the fiery look in her eyes Tiger had a hunch she'd manage very well.

They argued for most of the afternoon. Tiger tried first to be quietly reasonable; when this tactic failed, he alternated between pleading and anger. He rarely allowed himself to be angry but Bethany infuriated him. No matter what he said she remained calm, but adamant. She
was
going to China with him. She
was
going to help him find the dragon. Nothing he could say would dissuade her.

So Tiger decided to stop arguing. The solution was simple; he would agree to take her. Then he would leave the day before they were scheduled to depart, and by the time Bethany discovered she'd been tricked he'd be halfway to China.

They sat on the aft deck that night. Tiger introduced her to his cook, Lee Tung, a small, rotund man
who smiled and bowed and said that he had prepared a most simple dinner. This proved to be cold lobster with hollandaise sauce, hearts of palm salad, French bread and chilled white wine. For dessert there was a white chocolate mousse and coffee.

When the dishes had been taken away Bethany leaned back in her chair. Lights blinked from the distant shore. A yellow slice of new moon, lone companion to the myriad stars, seemed painted on the evening sky. She'd never known anything could be this peaceful, this beautiful. The slight motion of the boat had a calming, lulling effect.

With a sigh she said, "I'd better go before I fall asleep."

"You're welcome to stay. I have three staterooms. I will drive you back to Kowloon tomorrow when I go to Macao."

"No thank you." The idea of spending a night here on the boat with Tiger Malone both frightened and excited her. Then she remembered that if she sailed to China she'd be spending a lot of nights with him. But not tonight.

They had little to say on the way back to her hotel. Again, as he had done the night she'd come to the club, Tiger parked on the Hong Kong side so that they could take the ferry to Kowloon.

It wasn't until they were on the ferry that Tiger became aware of the two men watching them. At first he paid no attention. Bethany was an unusually pretty young woman, so it was only natural that men would look at her. He liked looking at her himself.

But Tiger took her arm when they left the boat, deliberately slowing his steps and pausing to point out the lights on the other side of the harbor.

The two men also paused.

Tiger's hand tightened on Bethany's arm. He didn't want to alarm her but the hour was late and he felt a sudden need to get away from this darkened dock area.

When he quickened his pace she looked up at him. "What is it?" she said curiously.

"Nothing, it's late. We'd better—"

A rough hand on Tiger's shoulder whirled him around. Bethany gasped, then screamed as the second man tried to grab her purse. She hit him with the back of her hand and tried to pull away, quickly taking in the man's appearance. She struck him again and he grabbed a handful of her hair. She kicked, connecting with his shin. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tiger and another man fighting, heard the sound of fist against jaw. The other man grunted, staggered back a few steps, fell to his knees, then flat on his face.

Tiger spun around, grabbed the man Bethany had been struggling with, hit him in the throat with the edge of his hand and followed it up with a chop behind the man's ear. Her assailant fell without a sound.

Bethany stared down at the two men, and took a deep br
eath to steady herself. "They..
.they wanted my purse," she said.

"Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Then let's get the hell out of here."

Tiger hurried her along the dock to the Hong Kong Hotel, entered, cut through the coffee shop to the
lobby, then out to the well-lighted street. He tried to tell himself that the two men who jumped them were purse-snatchers, but he couldn't quite convince himself. Purse-snatchers usually hit and ran. Unless they were desperate they rarely wanted to fight. But these men had been serious; they wanted Bethany's purse and they were willing to fight for it. Tiger's steps quickened.

When they reached Bethany's hotel he said, "I'm coming up with you."

Bethany looked at him, surprised. "There's no need, I'm a little shaky but I'll be all right." A little shaky! Now that it was over she wasn't sure her legs would hold her as far as the elevator.

Tiger tightened his hand on her arm, and with a smile he said, "You surprised me. You appear to be very fragile but you put up a pretty good fight."

"I surprised myself. I know you're not supposed to resist, but everything I've got—airline tickets, traveler's checks, money, passport, Dad's letter, is in my purse. I was darned if I was going to give it up without a fight."

They reached her door and she took the key out and handed it to Tiger. He opened the door, stepped inside and felt on the wall for the light switch.

"Thank you for seeing me home. I'll..." She gasped and grabbed his arm. "My God!" she whispered. "Look at the room."

Her clothes lay in a jumbled heap on the floor. The dresser drawers had been pulled out, and the contents carelessly spilled. The mirror over the dresser had been ripped from the wall and the back of it slashed. The
lamp on the nightstand beside her bed was overturned, the bed covers thrown back.

"Stay right here," Tiger murmured. He checked the corridor, closed the door, then silently crossed the room. He inspected the bathroom, then moved to the balcony, slid back the glass doors and stepped out.

Bethany stood frozen, hands clenched tightly to her sides. She'd never seen anything like this before. The room was a mess, her clothes scattered. She had no idea what might be missing. Had the burglars been looking for money? For jewelry? Why had they picked her room to rob?

Tiger came back into her room and beckoned her inside. "Pack your things," he said. "You're coming back to the boat with me."

Bethany looked at him in shock, unable to speak for a moment, her gray eyes wide as she stared up into Tiger's face. "Shouldn't we call the police?" she asked in a shaking voice.

"We will leave that to the hotel." Tiger strode to the closet. Her suitcase and overnight bag were on the floor. The lining had been ripped out but they were usable. He looked at Bethany. She was pale and he knew she was close to breaking down. He put the suitcases on the bed and trying to jar her snapped, "Don't just stand there, help me pack."

Bethany sank down on the bed beside her clothes. "Maybe if I move to another room—?"

"No, not another room. You're coming with me." He didn't want to frighten her but he didn't like what had happened—first the two men jumping them on the dock, now this. He wanted Bethany where he knew she'd be safe; he wanted her on his boat.

Bethany argued even as she helped him throw her things into her suitcase. Then, before Tiger could stop her she went into the bathroom to get her toilet articles. With a cry she slumped against the door. The bathroom looked worse than the other room. Her jar of cold cream had been broken and the cream smeared on the rug. Everything had been broken and emptied.

Bethany fell to her knees with a cry and began trying to clean the rug with a towel, not even aware that tears were running down her face. When Tiger lifted her to her feet she said, "No, let me go, I have to clean it up."

Tiger said, "Don't worry Bethany. Leave it." He led her out of the bathroom and helped her gather the things that were still usable. When they were packed he called Macao and spoke to the manager of The Golden Dragon and told him that he wouldn't be in tonight. Then he called down to the desk, telling them that Miss Adams's room had been ransacked, that she was leaving, and that they would be down in a moment to check out.

When they stopped at the desk the manager apologized and offered another room. Tiger declined and led Bethany out of the hotel to a taxi.

She was silent on the way back to his boat, exhausted by what had happened, willing for the moment to let him take care of her. She'd stay on the boat, for tonight at least and tomorrow she'd find another hotel.

Once again a sampan took them out to Tiger's boat, and once again Chang Lu greeted them. If he was surprised to see Bethany he didn't show it. He took her bags when Tiger said, "Put them in the stateroom next
to mine, Chang." Then Tiger led Bethany to the sofa, poured two brandies, and handed her one.

She'd held up remarkably well after what had happened. She hadn't fallen apart after the attack on the dock or when she'd walked into her hotel room and found everything turned upside down. But the strain showed in her pallor.

He was glad she was here with him and he would keep her here for as long as necessary to be sure she was safe. The two attacks worried him more than he liked to admit. The one on the dock might have been because Bethany looked like a typical American tourist, but the ransacking of her room was too much of a coincidence. No, he couldn't believe it was because she was a tourist. They—whoever they were—had been after something.

Tiger's face tightened. For the past few weeks he had suspected that he was being followed, but he'd told himself it was because of the club. There were always a few disgruntled patrons, perhaps one of them had decided either to steal the lost money back or take revenge on the owner of The Golden Dragon.

But he didn't think what had happened tonight had anything to do with the club.

"I don't want to impose," Bethany said, breaking in on his thoughts. "I'll stay tonight if you insist but tomorrow I'll find another hotel."

"We will talk about it in the morning. Now why don't you try to get some sleep?"

"Yes, I think I will." Bethany took another sip of her brandy and set the glass on the coffee table. Tiger led her through the salon and down a short flight of stairs to the staterooms.

"If you want anything I will be right next door," Tiger said. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Try to rest, Bethany. Don't think about what has happened. You're safe here."

She heard the growl of motors and the boat began to move. "What's happening?" she asked nervously. "Why are we moving?"

"I've asked Chang to take us farther out in the bay. It will be quieter." Tiger didn't add that he'd also told Chang to stand watch. He opened the cabin door. "Try to rest," he said, "you'll feel better in the morning."

The stateroom was almost the size of her bedroom back home. The double bed was built flush against the wall. There was a built-in dressing table and a chair that was fastened to the floor. Her clothes had been hung in the closet and what was left of her toilet articles placed in the adjoining bathroom. In spite of her weariness Bethany smiled. If this was how the other half lived she just might learn to like it.

After Bethany had bathed and slipped into her nightgown she turned out the overhead light and opened the curtains that covered the porthole. A soft breeze cooled the cabin, the gentle movement of the water soothed her. Trying not to think of the attack on the dock or of the ruined hotel room, she closed her eyes. But it was a long time before she was able to sleep.

She dreamed of shop windows filled with exotic things—beautiful gowns, cool jade and sparkling jewels. A shopkeeper appeared. He pointed to the most beautiful dress Bethany had ever seen and crooking a finger motioned her inside his shop. But
once inside the beautiful dress and the shopkeeper disappeared. She was on the dock and it was night. Lights shone dimly through a fog and suddenly she heard footsteps. She tried to run but couldn't; her feet were so heavy that she could barely lift them. The footsteps grew closer. She moaned in fear and tried with every ounce of strength to move her leaden feet. Slowly, oh so slowly, she began to run. The footsteps grew closer. Closer. A hand reached for her, held her. "Let me go! Let me go!" she screamed and fought to break free, crying, "Please let me go!"