Yesterday Hiraga had said, "I answer more question during ride, Jami-sama. Need go, to go Hodogaya, meet cousin. P'rease?"' "Why not, Nakama, old chap?"' McFay had not visited the village for months though it was within the agreed area of the Settlement and was glad for the excuse. Few traders ventured that far now without military escort, Canterbury's murder and Malcolm Struan's fate never far from all their thoughts.
Today McFay was feeling good. In the last mail a statement from his bankers in Edinburgh had led him to discover he was in better shape than he had thought, more than enough to start on his own in a small way. The Noble House was in good hands and that pleased him. Struan's new manager, Albert MacStruan, had arrived from Shanghai. He had met him in Hong Kong three years ago when MacStruan had first joined the company. Six months training in Hong Kong under Culum Struan, then to Shanghai where he had quickly become their Deputy Director.
"Welcome to Yokohama," Jamie had said, meaning it, liking him though knowing little about him except he was good at his job and his branch of the clan was black Highlander--a Scots and Spanish blood line from one of the thousands of Spaniards of the Armada who had been shipwrecked in Scotland and Ireland and survived, but never to return.
Here he would be taken as Eurasian though no one challenged him. Legend whispered that he was another of Dirk Struan's clandestine, illegitimate children whom Dirk had secretly sent home to Scotland with a stepbrother, Frederick MacStruan, both heavily endowed by him, shortly before he died.
"Dreadfully sorry about seeing you under these rotten circumstances, old chap."
MacStruan's accent was patrician, Eton and Oxford University, with a trace of Scots.
He was twenty-six, a chunky, dark-haired man, with golden skin, high cheekbones, dark sloe eyes. Jamie had never asked him about the legend, nor had MacStruan volunteered anything. When Jamie had first arrived in Hong Kong, almost twenty years ago, it had been made clear to him by Culum Struan, then tai-pan, that here you don't ask questions, especially about the Struans--"We've too many secrets, too many black deeds to forget, perhaps."
"Everything's in order, and don't worry about me, Mr. MacStruan," Jamie had said.
"I'm ready for a change." And though, now, no longer formally with the Noble House he was still helping him, bringing him up-to-date on projects and deals, introducing him, with Vargas, to their Japanese suppliers. The books were in good order, the coaling venture with Johnny Cornishman had begun perfectly and should be highly profitable, the quality of the coal first rate, and further arrangements made to fill a barge a week for the next three months as a trial period.
Generously, MacStruan had given him a twenty percent share of the profit for the first year, and then approval to deal on his own account with Cornishman: "... should that little bounder still be alive," he had said with a laugh.
Thanks to Hiraga, Jamie's secret dealings with the shoya had blossomed and the first company formed in principle: I.s.k. Trading-- Ichi Stoku Kompani--the shoya's wife considering it prudent not to use their own name. The stock was split into a hundred parts: the shoya had forty, McFay forty, Ryoshi's wife fifteen, and Nakama--Hiraga--five.
Last week he had registered his own trading company, tomorrow he was open for business in temporary offices in the same building that housed Nettlesmith's Guardian. For a week now, Ryoshi's eldest son, shy, nervous and nineteen, reported for work at 7:00 A.m. daily and left at 9:00 P.m., there to learn everything. Particularly English. And in the last mail, an unexpected three month severance pay arrived with a polite note from Tess Struan thanking him for his services. Three months isn't bad for nineteen years, he thought with grim amusement.
No word yet from Hong Kong, too early though Prancing Cloud would have arrived ten days or more ago, Hoag about a week. Four or five more days at the earliest to hear anything, perhaps longer, a huge storm rumored to be in the south China seas, might delay that even further. No point in trying to forecast times and weather.
One day we'll have a telegraph to Hong Kong, and one day, perhaps, the wire will go all the way to London. My God, what a fantastic boon to everyone to be able to get a message to Hong Kong and a reply back in a few days-- and to London and back in what, say twelve to sixteen days--instead of four months! Won't be in my time but I bet the wire reaches Hong Kong in another ten to fifteen years. Hooray for Nakama and my partner Ryoshi, hooray for my new company, McFay Trading. And hooray for Angelique.
Notwithstanding deep mourning, on Christmas Day she had agreed to join the dinner he gave for Albert MacStruan to which Sir William, Seratard, Andr`e and most of the Ministers had come.
It had been a quiet success. Though she had none of her previous gaiety, and little like her former self, she had been gracious and sweet and everyone remarked how even more beautiful she had become in her new maturity. Tonight there was to be a grand soiree at the French Legation to which they were invited. Andr`e would be playing. It was doubtful she would dance--betting was ten to one against. On whether or not she was carrying, betting was still evens.
Hong Kong no one mentioned. Since their sea adventure and her successful finesse of Sir William, they had become firm friends and dined privately most evenings.
Hooray for the New Year which will be marvelous!
In spite of his good humor a twinge went through him. Actual business was dicey, civil war around Shanghai brewing again, plague in Macao, the American civil war dreadful, famine in Ireland, rumors of famine here, riots in the British Isles over unemployment and factory wages. Then there's Tess Struan.
Damn it, I promised myself not to worry about her from January 1st, 1863 onwards! Or about Maureen...
To escape his anxiety he used his spurs.
At once Hiraga did likewise, both men riding well. This was Hiraga's first ride in a long time, his first time opportunity to move semi-freely outside the Settlement. He drew alongside Jamie, then went ahead. Soon they were happily galloping. Soon too they were alone, the others having turned off for the racecourse. They slackened pace, enjoying the day.
Ahead they could see the twisting Tokaido, broken here and there with rivers in flood and fords, porters either side waiting to ferry or carry waiting goods and people over the waters. Southward was Hodogaya. Its barriers were open. In the good old days before the murders, during spring and fall, traders would visit the village for sak`e and beer, taking their own picnic meals with them, laughing and flirting with the coveys of maids who would seek to drag them into their bars or restaurants.
They were not welcome in the many brothels.
"Hey, Nakama, where are you meeting your cousin?" Jamie asked, reining in on the outskirts, not far from the barrier, more than conscious of the travellers' hostility. But not worried.
He was armed, openly, with a shoulder-holstered revolver--Hiraga was not, so he thought.
"I 'rook for him. Best I go 'rone other side barrier, Jami-sama," Hiraga said.
He had been overjoyed to get Katsumata's message, at the same time filled with misgivings, it was dangerous to leave the protection of Sir William and Tyrer. But he had to have news of Sumomo, and the others, and find out what had really happened in Kyoto, and what was the new shishi plan. Daily the shoya had shaken his head, "So sorry, Otami-sama, I've no news yet about Katsumata or Takeda--nor about the girl Sumomo, or Koiko. Lord Yoshi remains in Yedo Castle. The moment I have news..."
Still well muffled, Hiraga motioned Jamie to lead. "P'rease, then I find good p'race for you wait."
The barrier guards watched them suspiciously, bowing slightly and accepting their salutes.
Hiraga winced, seeing a poster of his likeness attached to a wall. Jamie did not notice it and Hiraga doubted if he, or others, would recognize him with his European haircut and mustache.
Hiraga stopped at the first Inn. Using poor Japanese and imitating the gruffness of other traders, Hiraga found a table in the garden and ordered tea and sak`e and beer, some Japanese foods and told the maid to make sure they were not disturbed and she would get a good tip. The maid kept her eyes down but Hiraga was sure that she had seen his eyes and knew him to be Japanese.
"Jami-sama, I back in few minutes,"
Hiraga said.
"Don't be long, old chap."
"Yes, Jami-sama."
Hiraga sauntered out on to the roadway, heading toward the far barrier. The general hostility and ill manners infuriated him, a few belligerent samurai and some travellers forcing him to step aside and let them pass. At the same time he enjoyed the fact that everyone took him for gai-jin, and his scrutiny of every eating place and bar as rude gai-jin curiosity.
Katsumata's coded message had said, "Come to Hodogaya, any morning over the next three days. I'll find you."
Feeling conspicuous as indeed he was, he walked past people loitering, or at benches and tables or hunched over braziers who glared insolently at him. Then he heard the low, signal whistle.
He was too well-trained to acknowledge it or turn around. It seemed to come from his left side.
With pretended tiredness he chose a bench well away from the street at the nearest eating house and ordered a beer. The maid brought it quickly.
Nearby, peasants stooped and slurping over bowls of morning rice gruel and hot sak`e eased away as though he had plague.
"Do not turn around yet," he heard Katsumata say quietly, "I did not recognize you, your disguise is perfect."
"Yours must be too, Sensei," he said as softly, hardly moving his lips, "Twice I scrutinized this place carefully."
The low, well-known and admired laugh.
"Drop something and when you pick it up, look around briefly."
Hiraga obeyed and when, momentarily, he saw the only man within hearing, a wild-looking, bearded, venomous ronin with the filthy thatch of hair glaring at him, he turned his back once more. "Eeee, Sensei!"
"No more "Sensei." There is little time, Hodogaya crawls with Enforcers and spies. Where can we meet safely?"
"Our Yoshiwara--the House of the Three Carp."