“He’s hiding in the car.” Field stood. “We must go.”
He leafed through the pages until he found the most recent entry: SS
Beneath it was a list of names and opposite each, a figure. Field ran his finger over the characters as he tried to decipher them.
She moved alongside him.
“Macleod,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Five thousand dollars.”
“Yes.”
“Geoffrey Donaldson, twenty-five thousand.”
“Yes.”
“Commissioner Biers, ten thousand.”
She nodded.
“There is no mention of Lewis.” Field handed Chen the pages and watched as the Chinese detective cast his eyes over them.
“Lu will not sleep until he gets these back,” he said. “We must go
Field did not move.
“His men will turn the city upside down.”
They heard a vehicle screech to a halt outside, followed by the sound of shouting and running feet. Chen ran to the window, Field half a step behind him. He saw Sorenson getting out of the front of a truck, in full protective gear, helmet on and a Thompson machine gun by his side.
A black Buick pulled up behind him, and Macleod stepped out onto the sidewalk. Another car stopped in the middle of the street, disgorging four of Lu’s men, each also armed with a machine gun.
Chen opened the door to the balcony, stepped out, and fired twice in Macleod’s direction, scattering the men below as they darted for cover. Then he walked past Natasha and out into the hall, letting off two more shots in the stairwell, before reloading his revolver with one hand. “The roof?”
Natasha looked puzzled.
“Up to the roof?” he barked. “How?”
“From . . . in the hallway.”
There was a closet in the corner of the landing. Chen rattled the padlock briefly before stepping back, taking aim with his revolver, and shooting it off.
Inside, a bamboo ladder was stacked alongside a brush, a bucket, and a selection of cloths. Chen took hold of the ladder and pushed it at Field. “You must go.”
“I can’t.”
“Otherwise, none of us will stand a chance. No one, Field.” There were more shouts from below. Chen ran to the door and fired twice more into the stairwell. “If we are caught here, we will all be killed. You get out, and Lu cannot be sure what you have done with the ledger pages. That way, we all have a chance.”
“The boy. I can’t—”
“We have no
They could hear voices again, coming up the stairwell.
Field pushed his revolver into the waistband of his trousers, took the ladder, placed it against the edge of the hatch, and began to climb. Natasha was staring upward, her face expressionless.
The stairwell was silent.
Field climbed out onto the roof and spun around. “The ladder,” Chen whispered.
It was almost weightless. Field hauled it up and threw it to his right. He took hold of the hatch cover. For a moment Natasha’s eyes were fixed upon his.
Field hesitated. He could see she was certain that she would not see him again. He shook his head slowly.
“Go,” Chen hissed.
Natasha turned away. Chen began firing again and Field heard a scream. He dropped the hatch cover and straightened.
The roof was flat and covered in gravel. Smoke from three tall brick chimneys drifted toward the tower above the race club. He could see the dome of the Hong Kong Shanghai Bank in the distance.
Field turned. The breeze tugged at his shirt as he made his way to the side of the building, climbing over a series of telegraph wires. There was no wall or parapet. He stepped onto the edge of the roof, making a conscious effort not to look down. The building opposite was a foot or two lower, but it was a long jump. He thought the gap was about ten feet, perhaps a little less.
The roof he was aiming for had no ledge around it, either. A line of steel chimneys along its center billowed smoke in his direction.
