"We should have a captain for our venture.
Jamie, it should be you."
"I agree," Skye said. "Meanwhile, we wait for Hoag."
Jamie began to speak, stopped, then nodded and went to his own office. A big pile of mail waited for action. He began to deal with it, working diligently but his concentration was disturbed by his drawer. In it was Maureen's letter. At length he threw down his pen and took the letter out and re-read it. There was no need for he had read it twenty times before.
The key sentence was: As there has been no reply to my fervent requests and prayers that you return and take up a normal life at home, I have decided put my trust in our Maker and venture to Hong Kong, or the Japans, wherever you are. My beloved father has advanced us the money which he borrowed against a mortgage on our home in Glasgow--please leave word for me with Cook's in Hong Kong for I sail tomorrow, a second-class berth, on the Cunard Eastern Mail...
The letter was dated over two and a half months ago.
He groaned. She'll be in Hong Kong any day. My letter arrived too late. Now what do I do? Grin? Hide? Flee to Macao like old Aristotle Quance? Not on your life. It's my life and there's no way I can support a wife, want a wife... I can't just write the same letter again and have it meet her there. I'll have to-- A knock interrupted his thoughts. "Yes?" he bellowed.
Tentatively Vargas poked his head around the door. "Can I see you a moment, senhor?"
"Yes, what is it?" Jamie asked.
Vargas said distastefully, "There's a man here to see you, a Mr. Corniman--some name like that I think he said."
The name meant nothing to Jamie. Vargas opened the door a crack. The short, ferret-like man was strangely dressed, part in European clothes, part Japanese. Shirt, trousers and thick padded overcoat, clean-shaven, hair clean and tied in a queue, a knife at his belt and well-worn boots. Jamie did not recognize him but here strangers were often not what they seemed. On an impulse he said, "Come in, please sit down." Then he remembered the mail ship. "Vargas, ask Captain Biddy to stop by a moment will you. He should be in the Club.
Sit down, Mr. Corrniman, is it?"
"You's grog, mate?"
"Who are you and what do you want?"
"Johnny Cornishman, remember I seed you wiv' the tai-pan, me and my mate, Charlie Yank, we's prospectors, right?"
"Prospectors? Oh yes, I remember you." Now the man was clean and tidy where before he had been a hairy, filthy, foul-smelling beachcomber. His malevolent, furtive little eyes had not changed. "We made you a deal but you went with Brock's," he said sharply, "you sold us out."
"Ay, that we did. We's biznessmen.
Norbert give us'n more brass, didn't he?
Forget him, he's dead. First, some grog, eh?
Then talks."
Jamie kept his interest hidden. A man like this did not come without pay dirt. He unlocked his sideboard and poured half a tumbler of rum.
"You've made a strike?"
The little man quaffed half the glass, choked and bared his gums, toothless but for two twisted brown teeth. "Grog's better'n sak`e, by God, but never mind, the little sheilas is making up for this' lack o' grog." He belched and grinned. "Just so long as you barf. Jesus they's pekulier about water and barfing, more'n in our Yoshiwara, but when you's barfed then they's waggles theys bums till Kingdom come!" He roared at his own joke, then said toughly, "We's got best quality steamer coal, tons, mate, 'nuff to coal our whole effing fleet. At half Hong Kong price, this' ton."
"Where? Delivered where?" Jamie said, brightening. Steamer coal was extremely valuable and in short supply, especially for the fleet, and a local supplier would be a godsend as well as a constant source of revenue. At even twice Hong Kong price he could sell all he could get, let alone half. "Delivered where?"
"'ere in Yokopoko, for Christ's sake, but sixpence a ton you's puts in't bank for Johnny Cornishman." He gulped the rum down. "You's to pay in gold or silver Mex an' you's pay this bugger." He handed over a piece of paper. The bad printing read: Yokohama Village, Shoya Ryoshi, Gyokoyama merchant. "This sod know wot's wot, the ropes, knows wot to do. You's knows the bugger?"
"Yes, he's the village headman."
"Good. Me Guv sayed you'd know him."
"Who's your Guv?"
Cornishman grinned. "Lord 'igh Muck hiself. You's doan' need names. Doan' waste time. We's a deal, yes or no?"
After a moment Jamie said, "Where's the seam?"
"Me strike's me own, mate, not yorn."
The little man laughed nastily. "It be close but in enemy lands. Listen, me first seam's open, wiv a mountain of coal nearby an' a thousand of the yeller buggers to dig'n carry, 'nuff for twenty fleet for twenty year, by God."
"Why me? Why ask me to deal with you?"
"'cause Norbert's bloody dead an' you's bloody kingpin now the tai-pan's dead.
Yokopoko's proper bloody dangerous, eh?"
Cornishman held out the glass. "I's enjoy more grog, if you please, Mister godalmighty Struan's."
Again Jamie poured and sat down again.
Cornishman noticed half the last measure and grunted. "Wot's this?"
"We'll pay a fifth of Hong Kong price, less customs, delivered here, first delivery in thirty days. No side deal."
The little man's eyes darted around the room like a rat's. "Any customs you's pay, mate.
Me side deal stays. Tell you wot: day after tomorrer you's send a coaling barge near Yedo, where I says. Day after termorrer. We fills her up, you's to pay a fifth when full and brings her here to Yoko, you pays that geezer the rest, this' one of the paper. Sixpence a ton in bank in me name, Johnny Cornishman. Can't be fairer, eh? You get coal before you pay an' at half price Hong Kong."
"A fifth of Hong Kong price overall."
The little man's face twisted with anger. "At harf Hong Kong price you's making a big profit, for Christ's sake, the coal's here, not in effing Honkers. You's saves shipping, 'surance, and Christ knows what--we ain't chicken-shit bushwhackers, this's spectible trade!"
Jamie laughed. "Tell you what: first barge I'll pay a third Hong Kong price. If the quality's what you say and you guarantee delivery a barge a week or whatever you can do, I'll up it over the year to half Hong Kong less fifteen percent. Threepence a ton on the side to you. What about your partner, what was his name, Charlie Yank?"
"Sixpence or nuffink." Again the glance darted around the room and came back to rest on him, glittering. "He's dead like yor tai-pan but he didn't die like that lucky bugger."
"You'd better watch your tongue about our tai-pan."
"Go stuff yourself, mate. That were no disrespekt, we's all like to meet old Boney with a doxy chomping on our dingle." He finished his drink and got up. "Two days, at high noon.
Pick up be here." He offered a small hand-drawn map. The X was on the coast a few miles north of Kanagawa, south of Yedo proper. "You's brings tenders, we gives labor."
"Can't do two days, that's a Sunday. Make it Monday."