Chronicles of the Secret Service (5 page)

BOOK: Chronicles of the Secret Service
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‘No – please not.’ Her soft, brown eyes looked pleadingly into his. ‘My fiancé is jealous – he would not understand.’

‘But there wouldn’t be any harm in it. Besides, he wouldn’t know, unless you told him.’

‘He would, because always he takes me home from the Canton.’ Her statement gave Carter a surprise that he had the greatest difficulty in controlling his features. ‘I must hurry, please. For a little while I will sit with you in the Pearl.’

‘Swell,’ he murmured mechanically.

She was gone, and he resumed his seat, conscious that he was the cynosure of all eyes in his vicinity. Apparently the men in his neighbourhood regarded him with envy. But their feelings did not concern him. He was grappling with the surprising fact that Yumasaki was in Hong Kong. He must have returned secretly, and be the ruling spirit of the Japanese agents there. Carter felt that he had obtained one priceless item of information. There could be little doubt that the man to whom she alluded as her fiancé, who took her home at night, after her dancing was done, was Yumasaki. It had been a well-known fact that they were in love with each other, and she was not the sort to get herself engaged to another man directly the one she loved had left the colony. Besides, she had shown concern when he had pretended to guess that her fiancé had an interest in the China Doll, and had called it after her. Also she had made no denial. Carter decided that he had learnt something that Sir Leonard Wallace must know at once. He felt sorry for the girl. She was such an entrancing little thing, and he believed that, though she had acted with great secrecy as Yumasaki’s messenger, she was not actually concerned herself in the Japanese espionage activities. Carter’s impressionable heart had been touched. Everything about the China Doll delighted him, not the least being her fascinating repetition of the word ‘please’.

He finished his drink which he had not previously touched, and strolled out of the place. At once he sought for a telephone booth. He had a certain amount of difficulty in locating one but, when he was beginning to grow a little anxious, success rewarded his efforts. This time he found himself talking to Sir Leonard. The ball was over. The governor was greatly interested in his disclosures; was equally certain that the girl could only
have referred to Yumasaki. At once Wallace made up his mind.

‘Tell her,’ he directed, ‘that you have just met a man who informed you her fiancé is a Japanese Secret Service agent called Yumasaki. Hint that there were other items of information about him as well, and appear mysterious. Say you can quite understand now why she didn’t want to talk about him. You may as well pretend that your informant was a police officer. I think, after that, she will be only too anxious for you to go on to the Canton saloon and possibly see Yumasaki. If she still persists on your not going, ignore her request. Yumasaki is bound to want to meet you, anyway, once he is told what you have said. He might take you to his hiding place. I sincerely hope he does. Well, that’s all, I think, Carter. Hurry, away. You mustn’t miss her.’

Wondering what his chief had in mind, but believing he could hazard a pretty shrewd guess, Carter left the kiosk, and hastened to the Pearl Dancing Hall. He found it to be the smallest and perhaps the most tawdry. It was run by an obese Chinaman who greeted him as though he had been expecting him. The fellow was standing by the door, when he entered, and bowed as low as his corpulent proportions would permit.

‘It is my great privilege, honoured sare,’ he announced, ‘to welcome you to my welly poor establishment. The illustrious China Doll has dilected your humble selvant to place at your disposal a table.’

‘Say, that’s real nice of her,’ acknowledged Carter. ‘Lead on.’

Treating him with every appearance of respect, the fat Chinaman took him to a table in an advantageous position; called up a boy to attend to his requirements. Carter sat down, and looked about him, wondering why the place was called the Pearl.
There was nothing pearly about it, while its patrons appeared even less engaging than those in the other halls. Most of them were Chinese of a low class. Carter thought they looked a lot of cut-throats, making the mental reservation that appearances are often deceptive. In any case he preferred Chinese cut-throats to oily dagoes. He had arrived only just in time; had hardly taken his seat, when the Chinese orchestra broke forth into its weird dance music, and the China Doll appeared.

By that time, he practically knew her dance by heart, had even begun to understand the rhythm of the music. Nevertheless, he was not bored. There was something so dainty and fresh about the little figure gyrating gracefully in the centre of the room. He knew well quite a number of English actresses and dancers, practically all of whom were sophisticated to a degree and extremely artificial. There was nothing of that about the Chinese girl. She appeared entirely natural; childlike in some ways, wise in others. The more he saw of her, the less he felt it possible to believe she herself was an espionage agent of Japan, though no one knew better than he that her type was very successful in Secret Service work, mainly because of its entirely innocent appearance. However, he believed he could swear he had not been mistaken in her. Yumasaki was probably using the girl without her understanding the nature of the work upon which he was engaged.

She smiled quite frankly and in most friendly fashion now, as she danced by him. He, on the other hand, contrived to wear a puzzled and somewhat worried expression on his face every time she glanced in his direction. She proved that she had noticed this when, the dance over, she again caused a good deal of comment and interest by approaching him, and accepting the chair he held for her.

‘You see,’ she observed, ‘I have kept my promise. What is the matter, please? You look troubled.’

He pretended to evade the question.

‘This is mighty nice of you,’ he told her. ‘Shall I order a lemonade again for you?’

She nodded.

‘With much ice, please.’ The order was given to an attentive waiter. As soon as the boy had hurried away. ‘You have not answered my question,’ she reminded him.

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ Carter replied with an appearance of reluctance. ‘Say, what is your name – your proper name, I mean.’

‘Does it matter? After tonight we will not meet again.’

‘Don’t say that,’ he protested. ‘I want to be friends, and I’m coining right along to see you every night while my ship’s in port.’

‘You must not, please. It would not be wise.’

‘Gee! That’s real unkind of you. You seem mighty mysterious. I shall begin to believe that what I’ve heard is true, if you won’t let me see you again.’

He found her big brown eyes fixed on his face with an expression of trepidation in them.

‘What is it you have heard?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Tell me, please.’

‘I’ll think about it, if you let me know your name. I can’t call you Miss China Doll, can I?’

‘You would not be able to pronounce the Chinese words. It means in English the Dove of Gladness.’

‘Say, that’s pretty. Suppose I call you Dove?’

She smiled.

‘In England I was called Joy. It is the same, you see, as gladness.’

‘Then Joy’s good enough for me.’

The lemonade, pleasantly tinkling with ice, was placed before her. Carter paid its excessive price, adding a generous tip, and they were alone again. She drank a little; then again her anxious eyes regarded him.

‘You do not wish to tell me that which was troubling you,’ she persisted. ‘I feel it is connected with the things you say you have heard.’

He laughed.

‘You’re like all your sex, Joy; a whole heap inquisitive. Guess it’s nothing much, but I sure felt a bit worried. Say,’ he looked her straight in the face, ‘is your boyfriend’s name Yumasaki?’

There was a crash. The glass which she had been holding in her hand had dropped to the floor, smashing in hundreds of pieces, while a pool of lemonade spread round her feet. Carter immediately sprang up, producing his handkerchief, and expressing concern for her silken robe. It had luckily escaped being splashed, however, and a Chinese boy quickly mopped up the liquid, sweeping away the broken glass. Carter insisted on ordering her another drink, pretending not to notice the sudden pallor of her face and the fear in her eyes. He began to speak of trivial things, as though he had forgotten the question he had asked her; but she was not listening. When the second lemonade was before her, she turned to him; clutched his arm almost fiercely.

‘What do you know of Yumasaki?’ she asked in a low, tense voice.

‘Nothing much,’ he replied; ‘anyhow, I guess it’s none of my business.’

‘Tell me, please.’

‘Well, OK, if you insist. When I left the China Doll, I met a guy at the door who had a whole heap to say. He began by asking me if I knew you well. I told him to scram and try being fresh with somebody else. But he refused to be shaken off and I guess, when he told me he was a dick, I—’

‘Dick!’ she repeated. ‘What is that, please?’

‘A cop – a bull!’ She looked exceedingly puzzled.

‘I do not understand.’

‘A police officer.’

‘A police officer!’ she gasped. ‘Are you sure?’

‘He said he was, and I guess he ought to know.’

‘Please go on.’

‘I told him, since he seemed so almighty anxious to know, that I had only met you tonight, and he sure got my goat by warning me to be careful. He said you were in love with a Japanese Secret Service agent called Yumasaki, who—’

‘He said that?’ she interrupted, adding almost to herself: ‘Then they know!’ There was a pause, while she stared at him with fear-stricken eyes. ‘Was there anything else, please?’ she asked.

‘Yes; he said several things about this guy Yumasaki, but I was too anxious to get here to pay much attention; besides it had nix to do with me.’

‘What were the other things?’

Carter looked uncomfortable.

‘Say, girlie,’ he begged, ‘let’s forget it. I can understand why
you weren’t too darned keen to speak to me, if you’re mixed up in the Secret Service racket, but it means nothing in my life, I guess. I like you a lot, and I don’t care a button if your boyfriend’s a spy. Only take my advice, steer clear of that sorta thing if you can. I’d hate like hell if you got into trouble.’

She rose to her feet.

‘Excuse me, please. I must go.’

‘Oh, I say, don’t go yet. Why, we’ve only been sitting here for ten minutes and, if you won’t let me come to the next joint, I shan’t be able to see—’

‘I have changed my mind,’ she told him. ‘I think I would like to speak to you, please, after my last show.’

She was gone. Carter reflectively lit a cigarette.

‘Sir Leonard right as usual,’ he murmured to himself. ‘I wish I had that uncanny ability of his of being able to anticipate how the other person’s mind will work. To do it when the brain concerned is a woman’s is sheer wizardry.’

The China Doll’s final engagement for the night was at a dancing saloon in the very centre of Chinatown. The neighbourhood reeked of dried fish, roast pig and burning joss sticks. Although it was now half past one in the morning, everyone seemed wide awake and excessively noisy. It appeared that a wedding celebration was taking place nearby. Drums and strange shrill instruments were making the night, or rather early morning, hideous; crackers were continually exploding with startling suddenness. Carter was relieved to get inside the Canton. Even there, above the music of the Chinese dance band, could frequently be heard the sounds of festivity from without. The place was packed to suffocation. It seemed as though the
revellers had overflowed from the streets into the saloon, for the majority were blue and black smocked Chinamen or Chinamen in European clothes dancing with Macanese Chinese and white girls with a verve that was entirely unoriental. The few men present of that indefinite race, generally known as dagoes, were of a particularly greasy species, while European sailors were in a minority. Carter, as an American mercantile officer looked, and felt, quite out of place.

The proprietor this time was a Filipino. He also had apparently been told to expect the supposed mate of the
Seattle
for, on Carter’s appearance, he escorted him to a table that had obviously been reserved for him, unpleasantly close to the band. The heat was intense, the whirling fans making little difference to that stifling atmosphere. The Canton was much like the Pearl; as tawdry and as unwholesome. Carter saw things going on there that nauseated him, and made a mental note to advise the Commissioner of Police to tighten up the regulations governing dance halls.

The China Doll’s dance was performed under immense difficulties, but she went through it with the same spirit she had displayed all along, not appearing to notice the mass of polyglot humanity threatening, by its congestion, to encroach on the space reserved for her. Carter had a clear view, but people pressed behind and on either side of him, while the wailing notes of the band deafened him. He was glad when the dance was over, and agreeably surprised to be told by the Filipino that the China Doll would receive him in her own room. The proprietor, an astonishingly savoury specimen compared with most of the others, and possessed of a really courteous manner, escorted him through a curtained doorway and along a bare, whitewashed
passage. He knocked at the door and, on receiving an invitation from within, opened it and, standing back, motioned Carter to enter. The latter stood on the threshold astounded. Having come from the gaudy dance hall he felt, for a moment, that he was dreaming. The room to which he had been bidden was small, but exquisitely furnished in the Chinese style. It was a perfect picture, and invitingly restful. The China Doll, reclining on a long chair, smiled slightly at the astonishment, and invited him to sit at her side. He promptly crossed the apartment; sank with a sigh of pleasure into the depths of a luxurious chair. A small lacquer table, on which was a tray containing a decanter of whisky, soda siphon, and glasses, stood within easy reach. She begged him to help himself. Carter, who had been forced to drink more that night than he relished, refused; lay back, and allowed the whirling fan suspended from the ceiling to play on his overheated face.

BOOK: Chronicles of the Secret Service
2.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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