Hong Kong
Shirley has been on edge throughout the journey overland to and from Rangoon, saying little but watching his surroundings with the concentrated attention of a prey animal. His taut anxiety does not diminish until all three are safely aboard the Ceylon Moon, en route to Hong Kong. At which point Margaret breathes a deep sigh of relief. She isn’t sure which is worse; waiting for Addison or watching Shirley wear himself to a thread. She has, however, kept her word and said no more about it, only touching his hand or shoulder lightly to point out an interesting sight as they pass—and not so coincidentally remind him that yes, there is someone who dares touch him now.
The customs lines in Hong Kong are interminable; before joining the line, Shirley purchases back copies of the Times from a stand near the stationmaster’s. As is his habit, he starts from the earliest copy and works forward. The three of them have hardly moved from the rear of the line when Shirley lets out a sharp “Thank G-d! They have him!” He holds the sheet for Margaret and Esperanza to see the headline “Addison Aboard Liner Princess Helen.” Margaret closes her eyes for a second in sheer quaking relief.
“Isn’t this curious,” he remarks, taking in the brief article with a sweep of his eyes. “The liner went down the 10th, must have left the mainland even before that—and we had not even reached Madras then. The Yard has been chasing its own tail; Addison did not wait for me.”
Margaret cranes a little to read over his shoulder. “And she was bound for Chile, not for any place on the Ellipse route. Headed for a place quite outside the direct authority of the Empire… the obvious inference is that of cutting one’s losses and running. I wonder what has happened.”
“Well, the Yard might have convinced him to run for South America,” Shirley says, rubbing his chin, “but I should like to know if the Princess Helen had any stops planned between her point of debarcation and Chile. He might have been heading for Hong Kong or Osaka. Do you think Stafford and Sheffield would be able to find out?”
“I should certainly think so. I’ll send a messenger to Mr. Sheffield as soon as we get through this line, so that he can start making inquiries forthwith. It could be the Yard that chased Addison off your track… or he could have received word from those who sent him that either his interference was no longer necessary, or that they were cutting him off on his own. Or they could have ordered him to try to run. His is the only name the Yard has; if they capture him they may obtain others. Those others may have tried to shield themselves by attempting to make Addison vanish beyond the ken of the Yard. Had the ship not foundered, that might well have succeeded, I should think. But either way, while I am devoutly glad he can no longer pursue us… you, in particular… I am not sanguine that all pursuit is likewise removed.”
“Neither am I,” Shirley murmurs. “I should like to know who is issuing orders. Unless the Dutch are more cooperative than seems likely, it may be a while before friends of our Mr. Baxter and our Mr. Addison can enjoy a tete-a-tete. One last possibility, by-the-bye: Addison may have done his job, whatever it was.”
“True, and I had not thought of it… it was such a preciptate change from the course we had been led to expect of him. I don’t know, Shirley… in a way, this makes me a little more nervous. Now I do not know who we are watching for… and we never have known why.” Without noticing it herself, she has stepped a trifle closer to him.
“Ah, but we know we are playing the endgame, do we not? And we know I am not the crippled king.” In his voice, now quite emptied of fear, vibrates the purr of the hunting leopard. “The lesser pieces are swept from the board; only a bare few are left to play. The opening, my dear, is the game of brute force, and it is over. This is the endgame, the game of skill, the game of mind—and I have played a few such games myself, I have. We shall see. Indeed we shall see.”
“My dear, you are obviously at least three mental leaps ahead of me. Would you please back up and fill me in?”
The predatory gleam dies out of his eyes. “Oh, I know no more than you, really. It is that I now genuinely believe not only that I am no longer center stage—but that I never was. It pleases me; I am accustomed to working unnoticed. Perhaps I shall manage to accomplish something, perhaps not—but I can at least think about it now without worrying that one wrong step will put all our necks in a noose.”
“That is indeed a great relief. We are still in the light as Ellipsoids, but even so there are a number of us, and our opponents are probably no more numerous nor informed than we are.”
“Less numerous, probably. Twelve Britons on the Princess Helen? It cannot be much of a stretch to guess that at least some were Addison’s creatures.”
“Still, I believe I shall remain cautious about approaching our designated check-points.”
“Well, of course!” Shirley sounds surprised that this should need to be said. Another step forward; they are nearly in earshot of the officials now. Shirley lowers his voice. “And an added advantage is that no one has the faintest idea where we are. Whereas we know where Addison is, and I daresay soon we shall have some notion where his superior might be hiding himself. Who knows what telegrams may await us at Government House? I have had worse leads.” He follows the line two steps forward. “I had thought to wire Baxter my resignation. Perhaps I shall wait.”
“I would far prefer that. If you resign, we shall lose whatever information they may share with you.” Unspoken is the thought that they will also withdraw whatever protection they may offer, however slight that may have been.
“Ha! They’ve told me nothing, as you perfectly well know. No, what I need from them is that trifling extra crumb of legitimacy, and that they have already given.”
“Indeed. That was also in my mind. Do you know, my dear, we seem to think much alike. We shall have to see what further information we obtain here, and then try to plan. It would be pleasant to be able to act, rather than react. A defensive position seldom wins at chess, eh?”
The gleam returns, this time a trifle roguish. “Pre-cisely, Belle dear.” He drops the subject; the line is moving faster as they near its head. “Will you and Maria be all right visiting Sheffield on your own? I have odds and ends of errands to do myself.”
“Certainly, but I would prefer to check in at Government House first. If nothing else, any information resulting from the inquiries begun in Madras would be waiting for me there, as well as any word for you from your professional associates.” She gives him an impish smile, adding “You can fill me in—or not—later, if you wish.” Obviously, she is curious, but equally obviously both teasing him and recognizing that certain things might not be her business.
“Yes, of course. Hardly be polite to do otherwise. More convenient, too. And you should have whatever news there is before you see Sheffield.” He is quite in earnest; anything he knows, she will.
“Very well; we shall do that then. And thank you, my dear.”
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