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〃That's tough； isn't it？ Tough for a woman to live with？〃
〃Everything is tough for a woman； chérie； because men are such cretins。〃 Susanne deVille smoothed a crease away then touched perfume behind her ears and between her breasts。 〃You will fail here if you try to play the game according to masculine rules and not according to feminine rules。 You have a rare chance here； mademoiselle； if you are woman enough。 And if you remember that the Gornts are all poisonous。 Watch your Linc Bartlett； Ciranoush； already there are ladies here who would like to possess him； and humble you。〃
14
10：42 P。M。：
Upstairs on the second floor the man came cautiously out of the shadows of the long balcony and slipped through the open French windows into the deeper darkness of Dunross's study。 He hesitated； listening； his black clothes making him almost invisible。 The distant sounds of the party drifted into the room making the silence and the waiting more heavy。 He switched on a small flashlight。
The circle of light fell on the picture over the mantelpiece。 He went closer。 Dirk Struan seemed to be watching him； the slight smile taunting。 Now the light moved to the edges of the frame。 His hand reached out delicately and he tried it； first one side and then the other。 Silently the picture moved away from the wall。
The man sighed。
He peered at the lock closely then took out a small bunch of skeleton keys。 He selected one and tried it but it would not turn。 Another。 Another failure。 Another and another； then there was a slight click and the key almost turned； almost but not quite。 The rest of the keys failed too。
Irritably he tried the almost…key again but it would not work the lock。
Expertly his fingers traced the edges of the safe but he could find no secret catch or switch。 Again he tried the almost…key； this way and that； gently or firmly； but it would not turn。
Again he hesitated。 After a moment he pushed the painting carefully back into place； the eyes mocking him now； and went to the desk。 There were two phones on it。 He picked up the phone that he knew had no other extensions within the house and dialed。
The ringing tone went on monotonously； then stopped。 〃Yes？〃 a man's voice said in English。
〃Mr。 Lop…sing please；〃 he said softly； beginning the code。
〃There's no Lop…ting here。 Sorry； you have a wrong number。〃
This code response was what he wanted to hear。 He continued； 〃I want to leave a message。〃
〃Sorry； you have a wrong number。 Look in your phone book。〃
Again the correct response； the final one。 〃This is Lim；〃 he whispered； using his cover name。 〃Arthur please。 Urgent。〃
〃Just a moment。〃
He heard the phone being passed and the dry cough he recognized at once。 〃Yes； Lim？ Did you find the safe？〃
〃Yes；〃 he said。 〃It's behind the painting over the fireplace but none of the keys fit。 I'll need special equip… 〃 He stopped suddenly。 Voices were approaching。 He hung up gently。 A quick； nervous check that everything was in place and he switched off the flashlight and hurried for the balcony that ran the length of the north face。 The moonlight illuminated him for an instant。 It was Wine Waiter Feng。 Then he vanished； his black waiter's clothes melding perfectly with the darkness。
The door opened。 Dunross came in followed by Brian Kwok。 He switched on the lights。 At once the room became warm and friendly。 〃We won't be disturbed here；〃 he said。 〃Make yourself at home。〃
〃Thanks。〃 This was the first time Brian Kwok had been invited upstairs。
Both men were carrying brandy snifters and they went over to the cool of the windows； the slight breeze moving the gossamer curtains； and sat in the high…backed easy chairs facing one another。 Brian Kwok was looking at the painting； its own light perfectly placed。 〃Smashing portrait。〃
〃Yes。〃 Dunross glanced over and froze。 The painting was imperceptibly out of place。 No one else would have noticed it。
〃Something's the matter； Ian？〃
〃No。 No nothing；〃 Dunross said； recovering his senses that had instinctively reached out； probing the room for an alien presence。 Now he turned his full attention back to the Chinese superintendent； but he wondered deeply who had touched the painting and why。 〃What's on your mind？〃
〃Two things。 First； your freighter； Eastern Cloud。〃
Dunross was startled。 〃Oh？〃 This was one of Struan's many coastal tramps that plied the trade routes of Asia。 Eastern Cloud was a ten thousand tonner on the highly lucrative Hong Kong； Bangkok； Singapore； Calcutta； Madras； Bombay route； with a sometimes stop at Rangoon in Burma … all manner of Hong Kong manufactured goods outward bound； and all manner of Indian； Malayan； Thai and Burmese raw materials； silks； gems； teak； jute； foodstuffs； inbound。 Six months ago she had been impounded by Indian authorities in Calcutta after a sudden customs search had discovered 36；000 taels of smugglers' gold in one of the bunkers。 A little over one ton。
〃The gold's one thing； your Excellency； that's nothing to do with us；〃 Dunross had said to the consul general of India in Hong Kong； 〃but to impound our ship's something else！〃
〃Ah； very so sorry； Mr。 Dunross sah。 The law is the law and the smuggling of gold into India very serious indeed sah and the law says any ship with smuggled goods aboard may be impounded and sold。〃
〃Yes； may be。 Perhaps； Excellency； in this instance you could prevail on the authorities 。。。〃 But all of his entreaties had been shuttled aside and attempted high…level intercessions over the months； here； in India； even in London； had not helped。 Indian and Hong Kong police inquiries had produced no evidence against any member of his crew but； even so； Eastern Cloud was still tied up in Calcutta harbor。
〃What about Eastern Cloud？〃 he asked。
〃We think we can persuade the Indian authorities to let her go。〃
〃In return for what？〃 Dunross asked suspiciously。
Brian Kwok laughed。 〃Nothing。 We don't know who the smugglers are； but we know who did the informing。〃
〃Who？〃
〃Seven odd months ago you changed your crewing policy。 Up to that time Struan's had used exclusively Cantonese crew on their ships； then； for some reason you decided to employ Shanghainese。 Right？〃
〃Yes。〃 Dunross remembered that Tsu…yan； also Shanghainese； had suggested it； saying that it would do Struan's a lot of good to extend help to some of their northern refugees。 〃After all； tai…pan； they're just as good mariners；〃 Tsu…yan had said； 〃and their wages are very petitive。〃
〃So Struan's signed on a Shanghainese crew into Eastern Cloud … this was the first I believe … and the Cantonese crew that wasn't hired lost all face so they plained to their triad Red Rod leader wh… 〃
〃e off it for God's sake； our crews aren't triads！〃
〃I've said many times the Chinese are great joiners； Ian。 All right； let's call the triad with Red Rod rank their union representative … though I know you don't have unions either … but this bugger said in no uncertain terms； oh ko we really have lost face because of those northern louts； I'll fix the bastards； and he tipped an Indian informer here who； for a large part of the reward； agreed of course in advance； and passed on the info to the Indian consulate。