little bows and a steely grip on my arm. Mr. Enright, he explained in guttural English, had been unable to come, and he presented his excuses.
The boat was fast, and within five minutes, we arrived at the little harbour below Lin Fan’s villa.
I toiled up the steps and reached the terrace, slightly breathless.
Stella, wearing a white evening dress, cut low enough to reveal the tops of her breasts, was lying on a bamboo lounging chair, a highball in her hand, a cigarette between her lips. A young Chinese servant stood expectantly in the shadows. There was no sign of Harry Enright.
“There you are . . .” Stella said, waving the highball at me. “What will you drink?”
I said Scotch and soda and the Chinese servant quickly produced the drink.
“Harry will be here in a moment. Sit there where I can see you.”
I could see into the big lounge that led off the terrace. The room was richly furnished in Chinese style with heavy lacquer cabinets, red silk on the walls and a big black mother-of- pearl inlaid table set for dinner.
“Some place you have here,” I said.
“Yes ... it’s nice. We were lucky to have got it. We’ve only been here a few weeks . . . before we had an apartment in Kowloon. We like this much better.”
“Who was here before you?” I asked.
“I don’t think anyone was. The owner only decided to let the villa recently. He’s now living in Macau.”
Just then Harry Enright came out onto the terrace. He shook hands with me and then sat down opposite me.
The Chinese servant made him a highball.
After the usual polite chit-chat about the view and the villa, he asked, “Are you here on a business trip?”
“I’m on vacation,” I said. “I had the chance for a week or so off and couldn’t resist coming here.”
“Don’t blame you.” He studied me in a friendly way. “I’m crazy about Hong Kong. Stella was telling me you come from Pasadena City. Did you know Herman Jefferson well?”
“I know his father better. The old man is worried about Herman. He asked me to make inquiries about him when he heard I was coming this way.”
Enright looked interested.
“Is that right? What sort of inquiries?”
“Well, Herman had been out here for five years. He seldom wrote home. His father has no idea what he did with himself. He was pretty shaken when Herman wrote he had married an Asian.”
Enright nodded and looked over at Stella.
“I bet he was.”
“I think the old boy feels bad that he didn’t do more for his son while he was alive. Have you any idea what Herman did for a living?”
“I don’t think he did anything,” Enright said slowly. “He was a bit of a mystery. Personally, I liked him, but he wasn’t anyone’s choice.” He grinned at Stella. “She couldn’t stand the sight of him for one.”
Stella moved impatiently.
“Don’t exaggerate,” she said. “I admit I didn’t take to him. He thought any woman had to fall for him ... I don’t like that type.”
Enright laughed.
“Well, you didn’t fall for him,” he said, and I caught a jeering note in his voice. “Probably sour grapes. Well, I liked him.”
“But then you are amoral,” his sister said. “You like anyone who will amuse you.”
The conversation was interrupted by the Chinese servant announcing dinner was ready. We moved into the lounge.
It was a Chinese meal which I enjoyed. We talked about this and that. Enright was very gay but I noticed Stella seemed preoccupied as if she were only half listening to our conversation.
As the meal was finishing, she asked abruptly, “Who told you Herman rented this villa, Mr. Ryan?”
“Herman rented this villa?” Enright cut in. “For Pete’s sake! Did someone tell you that?” He looked quizzingly at me.
“A Chinese girl,” I said. “I met her at the Celestial Empire Hotel where Jefferson lived. She told me.”
“I wonder why?” Stella said, frowning. “What an absurd thing to say.”
I lifted my shoulders.
“She was probably kidding me,” I said. For the past ten or twenty seconds I had suddenly felt I was being watched. I glanced around the room. “I asked her for information about Herman. Maybe she fell she should tell me something to earn what I was offering her.” There was a big mirror opposite me. I looked into it. Behind me, in the lobby outside the lounge, reflected in the mirror, I could see a squat shadowy figure of a man. He was Chinese, wearing a European suit. He was studying me intently. For a brief second our eyes met in the reflection of the mirror, then he moved back into the darkness of the lobby and disappeared. I felt a prickle run up my spine. There was something sinister and menacing about the man and I had trouble not to show by my expression I had seen him watching me.
“Chinese will say anything if they imagine it is what you want them to say,” Enright said. I was aware he was looking intently at me. “Chinese girls are the most fluent liars in the world.”
“Is that a fact?” I said. I looked again into the mirror, then with an effort shifted my eyes back to Enright. “Well. . . .”
“Let’s go on the terrace,” Stella said, getting to her feet. “Will you have a brandy?”
I said no, and we wandered out onto the terrace. The moon had come up and was reflecting on the sea.
“I’ve a couple of telephone calls to make,” Enright said. “If you’ll excuse me, then we might take the boat out. Would you like that?”
I looked at Stella.
“If you like it, it suits me fine.”
“Oh, I’ll like it,’ she said in a resigned voice. “Harry can’t think of anything except his blessed boat.”
By then Enright had gone. She slid her arm through mine and led me to the balustrade. We stood looking at the sea.
“In a way that Chinese girl is lucky,” Stella said, and I caught a wistful note in her voice. “I expect Herman’s father will provide for her. I hear he is very rich.”
“She lost her husband,” I said, still not sure if I should tell her that Jo-An was dead.
She made an impatient movement.
“It was good riddance. Now she is free with money and she is in America.” She heaved a sigh. “I wish I were back in New York.”
“Is that where you come from?”
“Hmm ... I haven’t been back for over a year now. I’m homesick.”
“Can’t you go? Do you have to stay here?”
She started to say something then stopped. After a long pause, she said, “I don’t have to stay here, of course, but my brother and I have done things together for so long it’s become a habit.”
She pointed to the mountain ahead of us. “Doesn’t that look lovely in the moonlight?”
I guessed she was deliberately changing the subject and I wondered why, but I played along. We were still admiring the view when Enright came onto the terrace.
“Well, let’s go,” he said. “How would you like to see Aberdeen—it’s the fishermen’s village here? It’s quite something to see.”
“Why, sure,” I said, and we left the terrace and filed down the steps to the boat. Stella and I sat immediately behind Enright who took the driver’s wheel. He sent the boat roaring out to sea.
It wasn’t possible to talk against the sound of the powerful engines. Stella sat away from me, staring out into the moonlit night. There was a depressed expression on her face as if she were concentrating on something that saddened her. My mind was busy too, turning over the bits of information I had gathered. I still couldn’t believe that Leila had lied to me. Either the Enrights were misinformed or they too, like the reception clerk at the Celestial Empire Hotel, were lying about Herman Jefferson . . . but why?
The village of Aberdeen was one of the most fantastic sights I have seen. The harbour was crammed with
