Exploits (2 page)

“Uh ... let's just pause a second for serious reflection, Brother Wong,” I said. “Old Rupert wouldn't really cut my tongue out, would he?”

“No, not really,” said Wong.

“That's better.”

“Would have one of his hired killers do it for him.”

“You know,” I said, “upon further consideration, I think the Lord would want me to serve out my full sentence. After all, I was caught fair and square, and somehow this seems unfair to the just and honorable man who sentenced me.”

“Whatever you say, Doctor Jones,” said Wong. He went back around the desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out a sheet of paper that was subdivided into hundreds of little squares. “This help you pass the time.”

“What is it?” I asked.

He smiled. “Calendar of Chinese week.” He tossed me a pencil. “You can mark off each day with this. Will bring new one when you run out of lead.”

Which is how I became an operative in the employ of the Hong Kong Police.

* * * *

You'd think that the biggest gangster in Hong Kong would operate out of one of them beautiful old palaces that overlook the ocean, or failing that he'd set up headquarters in a penthouse suite in some luxury hotel. So you can imagine my surprise when I wandered down a couple of back alleyways and found Rupert Cornwall's place of business to be a rundown little storefront right between a fish peddler and a shirtmaker.

The whole area smelled of incense and dead fish, and there were lots of tall men dressed in black and wearing lean and hungry looks, but I just ignored ’em all like the God-fearing Christian gentleman that I am and walked up to Cornwall's door and pounded on it a couple of times. A muscular guy, who looked like a cross between an Olympic weightlifter and a small mountain, let me in and ushered me through a maze of unopened cardboard boxes to a back room, where Rupert Cornwall sat in an easy chair, smoking a Havana cigar and going through the Hong Kong version of the
Daily Racing Form
.

“Doctor Jones!” he said. “My dear fellow, I hadn't expected to see you again for almost a month!” He paused and looked around. “We just moved in here a few days ago. I used to operate out of one of the hotels, but my overhead was killing me.”

“Yeah, I know how expensive them luxury suites can be,” I agreed.

“Luxury suites nothing,” he corrected me. “It was making bail two and three times a day. Ah, well, you're here, and that's all that matters.” Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “Just how, exactly, did you get here so soon?”

“I'm a fast walker, Brother Rupert,” I answered.

“I thought you were incarcerated for 30 days.”

I shrugged. “Time flies when you're having fun. I guess I'd been there longer than I thought.”

“Yes, I saw little Mei Sung,” he said with a grin. “Well, are you prepared to discuss the details of our first business venture?”

“That's what I'm here for, Brother Rupert,” I said.

“Fine,” he said. “I want you to know up front that I am an honest businessman who would never dream of harming another soul, Dr. Jones.”

“I could tell that right off,” I said.

“I seek no commendation for my work,” he continued. “I'm in the import/export business, hardly a noteworthy or romantic occupation. I pay my bills on time, I treat my help well, I have virtually no social life, I avoid the spotlight at all costs. In point of fact, I am a
laissez-faire
capitalist of the highest order. And yet, there is a local official who has harassed me, threatened me, tried to drive me out of business, and caused me a considerable loss of revenue.”

“No!” I said, shocked.

“Yes, Dr. Jones,” he replied. “I have borne his enmity silently up to now, but he has become an intolerable nuisance, and it is my intention to so embarrass him that he is forced to resign from his position, if not leave Hong Kong altogether.”

“What does this have to do with
me
, Brother Rupert?” I asked.

“I cannot proceed with my plan alone. For your complicity in ridding me of this vile and obdurate man, I am willing to pay you the sum of one thousand British pounds sterling. What do you say to that?”

“That's a right tidy sum,” I allowed. “Just who is this here villain that we plan to put out of commission?”

“A man named Wong.”

“Would that be Inspector Willie Wong of the Hong Kong Police?” I suggested.

“The very same. How is it that you come to know his name, Dr. Jones?”

“Oh, they bandy it around a lot down at the jail,” I said.

“Have you any compunctions in helping me rid decent society of this man?”

“Not a one,” I said. “Why, did you know that every single man he arrested swore that he was innocent? We certainly can't have a man like that riding roughshod over the people of this fair city.”

He broke out into a great big smile. “I believe we understand each other perfectly, Doctor Jones. I
knew
I had selected the right man!”

“How do we plan to deal with this menace to social stability and free enterprise?” I asked.

“Willie Wong's reputation rests on the fact that he has never made a mistake, never arrested an innocent man, never let a guilty one get away,” said Cornwall, puffing on his cigar. “If we can publicly embarrass and humiliate him, I believe his honor will demand that he retire from public service.”

“And just how do we aim to do that?”

“I have it on good authority that the Empire Emerald, the largest gemstone in all of China, will be stolen from the Fung Ping Shan Museum tomorrow night,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “I will arrange that every clue points toward you, and knowing Wong, he will almost certainly bring you into custody within hours of the robbery. It will then be revealed that he has wrongly arrested a man of God, and that, furthermore, the emerald was stolen by one of his own sons.” He leaned back with a satisfied smile. “What do you think of that?”

“I think I want five hundred pounds up front and the name of a good bondsman, just in case something goes wrong,” I said.

“Certainly, my dear Doctor Jones.” He pulled out a wallet thick enough to choke a small elephant and peeled off five one-hundred-pound notes, which he then handed over to me. “I distrust a man who doesn't look out for his own interest.”

“Okay,” I said, stuffing the money into my pocket. “What else do I have to know or do?”

“Very little,” he said. “Spend an hour browsing at the museum late tomorrow afternoon, perhaps get into a slight altercation with one of the tourists so people will remember seeing you there, keep off the streets between midnight and two o'clock in the morning, and put
this
in a safe place.”

With that, he handed me a small cloth bag that was closed with a drawstring.

“What's in it?” I asked.

“Take a look.”

I opened it up, and found a lump of coal about the size of a golf ball.

“
That
, Doctor Jones, will prove to be the undoing of Willie Wong. Hide it well, but not so well that a thorough search cannot turn it up. While you are spending the night in jail and his men are ransacking your room, my own operatives will plant the real emerald on one of his brats.”

“An emerald this big is an awful high price to pay to get rid of one bothersome policeman,” I said.

“He costs me more than that every week,” said Cornwall. “It will be money well spent.”

“Well, considering that it ain't yours to begin with, I reckon I can see the logic in that,” I agreed.

“And now, Doctor Jones, it is best that we part company. I don't want anyone to know that we've been in contact since my release from jail.” He stood up and walked me to the door. “Your remaining five hundred pounds will be delivered in an envelope to your hotel the morning after your arrest, and you will be contacted later in the week concerning our next venture.”

“Sounds good to me, Brother Rupert,” I said, shaking his hand. “It's always nice to do business with a Christian gentleman like yourself.”

“We've lots more business to do when this sordid little affair is over,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

I kind of doubted it, since he never asked me what hotel he was supposed to deliver my money to. But with five hundred pounds in my pocket and Willie Wong on my side, I decided that things were definitely looking up for the Tabernacle of Saint Luke.

* * * *

I had walked maybe half a mile from Cornwall's office when I saw two young Chinamen staring at me from a street corner, so I strolled over to them.

“Nine?” I said to the bigger one.

There was no response.

“Twenty-Six?” I said.

“Make it thirty and you've got yourself a date,” he said with a giggle.

“Doctor Jones!” yelled a young man from across the street. “We're over here!”

I turned and saw two more Chinamen and made a beeline toward them.

“Are you Willie Wong's kids?” I asked.

The older one nodded. “We've got orders to take you to Dad.”

“Lead the way,” I said.

I followed them a couple of blocks to a dimly-lit restaurant. They left me at the door, and as I entered it I saw Wong nod to me from a table in the back.

“You visit with Mr. Rupert Cornwall, yes?” he said, gesturing me to sit down.

“Yeah. He doesn't like you much.”

“Stitch in time save nine.”

“You ever consider writing a Chinese proverb book?” I asked him.

“Please continue,” he said, slurping his soup.

“Near as I can make out, he plans to steal the Empire Emerald around midnight tomorrow.”

“Ah, so.”

“Not only that,” I added. “But he plans to make it look like
I
stole it, and while you're busy arresting me he's going to plant it on one of your sons.”

“Very interesting,” he said with no show of interest whatsoever.

“Well, that's it. I'm done now, right?” I said. “I mean, you'll be waiting for him at the museum, and I can go off converting all you godless yellow heathen—no offense intended—and maybe build my tabernacle.”

“Not that easy,” said Wong.

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Cannot make omelet without breaking eggs.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“So sorry,” he said. “Wrong proverb.” He paused and tried again. “Beauty only skin deep.”

“Well, that explains everything,” I said.

“Cannot capture Mr. Rupert Cornwall at museum where emerald reside,” continued Wong as he finished his soup.

“I already told you what time he's going to show up.”

“
He
will not steal emerald. He will have underling do so. I do not want little fish while big fish lead horse to water but cannot make him drink.”

“So what
do
you plan to do?”

“Mr. Rupert Cornwall expect me to arrest you. I will not disappoint him.”

“That may not disappoint
him
,” I said, “but it'll disappoint the hell out of
me
.”

He shook his head. “Just go through motions. Then catch him when he try to plant emerald on honorable son.”

“What if he has a henchman do
that
, too?” I asked.

“Almost certainly will. After all, home is where heart is.”

“I don't think you understand me, Brother Wong,” I said. “What's the difference if you catch a henchman stealing the emerald or you catch one planting it on your kid?”

“Much easier to trace emerald back to Mr. Rupert Cornwall
after
he has stolen it than before,” explained Wong.

“And what happens to me?” I asked.

“We arrest you with much fanfare in afternoon, release you when we apprehend henchman that night.”

Then a particularly bothersome thought occurred to me.

“What if he changes his mind and decides to keep the emerald?”

“Then you have lied to me, I take full credit for capturing you, city give another medal to humble detective, and I apprehend Mr. Rupert Cornwall some other day.” He smiled. “You see, either way it all work out.”

Well, I could see it all working out for Willie Wong and Rupert Cornwall a lot easier than it all working out for me, so me and the Lord decided that it was time to take matters into our own hands, and what we did was this: I went out shopping at a bunch of costume jewelry stores, and when I finally came to a fake emerald about the size of the lump of coal I was toting around in the little cloth bag, I bought it for twenty pounds and tucked it away in my pocket.

Then I went over to Bonham Road and visited the Fung Ping Shan Museum a day early, found the Empire Emerald, and tried to figure out how to substitute my stone for the real one, but since I'm a God-fearing Christian missionary who ain't never had an illegal impulse in my life, I finally had to admit that while the trip wires and the lock on the front door wouldn't give me no problems, the alarm built into the case was a type I hadn't seen before and there was just no way I was going to be able to switch the emeralds without setting it off and waking up such dead as weren't otherwise occupied at the time.

One thing I did notice, though, was that the guards were Brits and not Chinamen, so I waited until they locked up the museum and followed one of them home. I got his name off the mailbox, and early the next morning, right after he'd left for work, I called his wife and told her that my laundry shop had inadvertently ruined her husband's tuxedo, but that we would be happy to make amends. She explained that he didn't
have
a tuxedo, and I told her I was sure it was his but just to make doubly certain I needed to know the name of the establishment she did her business with, and as soon as she told me I popped over there and informed them I was a visiting relative who had been sent by to pick up any uniforms he might have left there. Sure enough, they had one, all bright and green and neatly pressed, with shining brass buttons. I tipped them a couple of pounds, took it to the men's room in the back of a nearby tavern, and slipped it on—and an hour later I was patrolling the corridors of the museum, nodding pleasantly to passersby and keeping a watchful eye on the emerald.

Then, when the museum hit a slow period and the room containing the Empire Emerald had emptied out, I walked into it with a beer in my hand, set it down atop the glass case that covered the gemstone, and tipped the bottle over. I pulled the phony emerald out of my pocket, lifted up the glass cover, and as the alarm went off I quickly exchanged it for the real emerald, got down on my knees, pulled out a handkerchief, and set about trying to clean the beer off the glass.