The Chinese Assassin (47 page)

He ignored the sentries as they
slapped their
rifles
and
came to attention at the
guard points
set
at regular intervals along the passageway. The
floor
of the tunnel sloped steeply downward for fifty
yards and finally entered
a broad arch guarded by four more
soldiers. Wang insisted
irritably
that
they
inspect
his
pass and Tan Sui-
l
ing’s and search
them
both, before moving
through
into a carpeted
antechamber which
had empty chairs
placed around
the walls.
Tan Sui-ling hung back as Wang exchanged greetings with
a general of
the Unit
834
1
who stood alone beside a heavy
leaded
door. The
officer,
she
noticed, never removed his right hand
from the butt of the holstered revolver at
his waist.
As they
moved
forward
she smiled
at him, but he did not
return
the
greeting.
He
unlocked the door with a large
key which
was chained
to the wrist of his other
hand and
stood back, his face impassive. Wang turned
and
beckoned to
Tan Sui-ling
then hurried through
the
door
which
the officer
immediately
locked behind them.
As
their footsteps
died away
inside
he picked a telephone receiver from
its
hook on the
wall and
spoke
their names softly
into it.

Most of the room inside
was in
shadow. Book-shelves
crammed
with pale-spined books and bound files, many of them flagged with reference tags, glimmered faintly in the gloom. The shelves lined three of the four walls from floor to ceiling and other books and papers were piled in haphazard working disarray on low tables and chairs. A high-backed leather couch raised high off the floor had been placed with its head against a fourth wall. A single lamp on a cluttered desk beside
it
focused a bright pool of light onto the sunken features of the dying man propped up on two
large white pillows.

On the other side a
medical trolley supported an
array of bottles,
pill-boxes,
trays
and surgical instruments laid out
in neat rows. The bead
lay
on its pillows at
an awkward angle, its features
collapsed in concentric lines about the sagging,
half-open
mouth. The one
sound in the room was of faintly
laboured breathing. Only the
darkly glittering eyes,
watching intently through
half-closed lids, still
burned
with
the angry spark of life, following their progress watchfully every step of
the
way to the couch
side. A gnarled hand from which the
flesh
had retreated clutched a black-covered
volume anonymously
downward on the
covering
rug.

‘Ni hao,
Tung-chih.’
Wang spoke softly, at the same time
bending and
laying his
hands briefly on both
the older man’s bony shoulders.

Tan
Sui-ling
waited
a moment then
stepped fo
r
ward into the circle
of
light and
removed her cap. She reached out,
lifted
one
bony
claw from the
rug and
held it tightly for a moment. The
watchful
eyes widened into
the beginnings
of a crumpled smile, looking down
wistfully
at the firm round hand of the
young woman. ‘The fire in the flesh
has already
died.’
He stopped
and
lifted his head to look up at her. ‘But
the
hand of a pretty woman
still warms
an old man’s heart.’

He spoke in a sibilant whisper
and
she had to
strain
to catch the sense of his nasal
Hunanese.
For a moment she covered
the
palsied hand with both hers
then
let go
and
stepped back.

‘Comrade
Chairman.’
Wang paused
and snapped
open his briefcase. His
raised voice
bad taken on an urgent, formal
note.
‘Reports of
traditional
phenomena from all over the north
eastern provinces are giving great cause
for alarm.
Indications
have reached me from
twenty-one separate
communes in Hopei
alone that well-levels
have fallen two feet in
the
past-hour.’

He
pu
ll
e
d
a
bulky manila file from his briefcase,
tapped it quickly
and
laid it on the desk beside
the
couch. ‘Seven reports of
pigs consuming their
young on different communes. Twenty-
nine reports
throughout the north east military region, of cockerels
flying
to
roost in trees.
A plague of
thousands
of rats
has
appeared in a
suburb
of
Tangshan,
the
heartland
of
our
coal industry—’ He broke
off
and looked at
his watch. ‘And the night
shifts
have been underground
for
two
hours already.’

The eyes in
the
emaciated face bad turned
inward. With an
effort he pushed his shoulders backward against the pillows
and sat
up. He wore a grey tunic buttoned close
beneath his scraggy chin and
he
fumbled
now in one of the breast
pockets.
He drew out a
crumpled
packet
and
placed a cigarette rolled in dark paper
between
his lips. Wang lit it
with
matches from
the desk and
listened to the
smack
of his
lips
as he
sucked
the smoke into
his
lungs. ‘What reports do you have from
the
Peking region?’ He
asked
the question slowly in a quavering voice without looking up.

‘None of
significance.
On a map
the majority
of
critical
criteria are clustered to the
south-east
halfway between here
and
the coast.’

They watched
him
sink thoughtfully back into
the pillows,
holding the
cigarette between
his
lips
with his left
hand.
‘To put all your
trust in
ancient
superstitions and
omens is not good.’
His
voice bad
sunk
to a half whisper again.

Wang tapped
his
file
again more urgently. ‘There
are reports
too, of bees swarming in great
numbers
and
stinging
livestock to death. Bats are
gathering in
great
flocks
also—they are
sensitive
to ultra-sonic vibrations, changes
in
the
electrical
fields of
earth
and atmosphere. There
is
a clear scientific
base
to these
ancient signs...

The grey jowls of
the man
on the couch shuddered in a sudden fit of
rage. When
he turned
his
head to look up at
him his
eyes were ablaze. ‘Enough of
this
talk!
Are
even you
turning
against
me
too?
Where
is the
weapon
I
commanded you to bring?’

Wang bent
hurriedly
and
picked up
his
briefcase. He
tugged
out the
heavy
revolver
and, after
a moment’s
hesitation
, laid
it beyond
his
i
mm
ediate reach on the desk.

‘Is
it
fully a
rm
ed?’

Wang hesitated.
‘No.’ He
reached into his briefcase and drew
out a
box
of
ammunition.’
I thought
it
better that—’

Again the jow
l
s
quivered, the
incandescent
anger
flashed. ‘Arm
it immediately—and place
it
within
my
grasp!’
The
effort
of
shouting wracked
the
wasted
body.

Wang
hurriedly
broke the gun
and dropped
shells into all six chambers. When he had finished, he applied
the safety catch. The
black-backed
book
slipped to the floor as the
gnarled hand that had
been holding it
reached towards him.
‘Give it to me!’

Wang held the revolver by
its
barrel
and guided
the butt into
the
trembling,
crooked
fingers. The
hand
fell
back clutching
the gun
on
top
of the coverlet where the book
had lain
before. He continued holding the
cigarette
to his mouth
with
the other
hand, screwing
up his rheumy eyes against die
curl
of the
smoke.

‘In
view
of the
reports
I
would urge
you, Comrade
Chairman,
to return to your
quarters
above
ground
immediately! You
are
in
danger
here!’ Wang leaned
earnestly
towards the couch,
trying
to penetrate
the trance-like
detachment of
the
dying man.

‘I will remain here!’ His eyes shone suddenly.
‘Let
those who wish to flee, like lesser vermin before the omens of
pigs and
rats, do so. I shall continue to lodge here in the ancient
heart
of
China.’
He raised his head imperiously. ‘Leave us now!’

Wang took a step nearer as though to
speak
again. But the eyes of the old
man
stared deliberately
unseeing
at the air above his
h
ead,
indicating
that he
had
already been dismissed. Wang bent to pick up
his briefcase and
hurried out. One claw-like
hand
reached out
and
depressed a push-button on the edge of the
desk
and the red-lacquered door swung closed behind him.

After
a long silence he beckoned
Tan
Sui-ling nearer. She approached
and
leaned over
him
until her
ear was
close to his mouth. ‘What new
intelligence
of
the Russians
do you bring?’

‘They
killed the
American Ketterman in
Washington
because
he
sent
Yang back to us. They are clearly furious
that their
meticulous
campaign
to vilify you
and
your supporters
has
collapsed
and humiliated
them instead.’

The hoary head
with its thin
wispy grey hair nodded
with a
slow
and
obvious satisfaction.

‘Yang has confessed everything
concerning his four years
imprisonment in Moscow under interrogation. 1 will arrange for him to be brought before you in chains within the bout to explain himself and offer personal atonement.’

His head turned slowly to look at
her.
‘And the Englishman? Has he arrived in Peking?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, Comrade Chairman. He is here, waiting to be called to your presence.’

‘Is his arrival in the capital widely known?’

She shook her head quickly. ‘Only a few men loyal to
me know he
is
here. Even Wang Tung-hsing is ignorant
of the
fact.’

His eyes closed and his deeply lined face lapsed again into an
expression
of intense weariness.

‘I
shall bring him—and later Yang—through
the
tunnel for
greater security if
that
is
your wish. You
will inform your personal duty guard?’
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