Authors: James Clavell
If things were different and I were in Paris with her, backed by Noble House power and money and an adoring but invalid husband, what secrets I could obtain! She’d require expert training in the more feminine and not so gentle arts, her claws would need honing but then she would be a classic, any salon and any bed would welcome her, and once she had a taste of the Great Game this oh-so-cunning little chicken would feed on it with gusto.
And into my bed? Now or later, certainly, if I wanted to turn the screws, but I no longer want her and will not take her, except for revenge. She’s much more amusing as a toy and there’s little enough in this world to amuse …
“Wonderful idea, André!” Phillip Tyrer was beaming down at him. “Settry said you cooked the whole thing up with them.”
“What?”
“The cancan!”
“Ah, yes,” André said. His fingers continued with the waltz, then ended
it. “Time for a break, let’s have a drink,” he said, deciding that now, being almost public, would be a perfect time to bring Tyrer to heel. “I hear a certain lady’s contract is worth a Minister’s salary,” he said in French, and saw Tyrer’s face redden with embarrassment and look around. “My God, as though I’d be so indiscreet. Phillip, don’t worry, my friend, I have your interests in mind.” He smiled, remembering their encounter at the Yedo Castle. “Affairs of the heart have nothing to do with affairs of State, though I believe France should share the spoils of the earth with Great Britain, no?”
“I … I agree, André. Yes, I … the negotiations are not so good, I’m afraid. Yes, at a standstill.”
“Better to speak French, eh?”
“Yes, yes, you’re right.” Tyrer used his handkerchief as a dandy would to wipe away a sudden sweat. “Never thought it would be so difficult.”
André beckoned him closer. “Listen, I can tell you how to fix that: Don’t see her tonight even though you’ve an assignation for the night.” He almost laughed aloud as Tyrer’s mouth dropped open. “How many times have I told you there are few secrets here. Perhaps I can help … if you need help.”
“Oh yes, yes, I do. I, yes, please.”
“Then …”
Both of them glanced at a roulette table that had been set up at the other end of the room, where there was a burst of laughter and clapping as Angelique won on double zero—no gambling for money tonight, just worthless bronze Chinese coins called small cash. Vargas acted as croupier.
Tyrer sighed. “Lucky at gambling and lucky in love.”
“She works at it,” André said thinly, irritated with her, “so should you. Listen, break tonight’s rendezvous with Fujiko; oh, I know Raiko’s set it up especially at your pleading—Raiko didn’t tell me by the way, it was one of her maids. Don’t go, and don’t send word that you’re not going, just go to another Inn, say the Inn of the Lily, take any girl there, their prettiest is one called Yuko.”
“But André, I don’t wan—”
“If you don’t want to bed her, just make her please you in other ways, or get drunk, or pretend to get drunk, believe me you won’t be wasting your money. Tomorrow, when Nakama mentions Fujiko, or anything about the contract or Raiko, act offhand, and tomorrow night, repeat the performance.”
“But …”
“Anytime
Nakama mentions anything, act casual, say nothing other than that the Inn of the Lily was many times more promising, telling him sharply not to mention it again, particularly to Raiko. All right so far?”
“Yes, but don’t you think—”
“No, unless you want to be driven mad, and not have Fujiko at a relatively
reasonable price—you’re going to get stuck anyway, Phillip, but never mind, it’s not fair you should be beggared, it’s a matter of face.
Do not
discuss this plan with Nakama, and keep the pattern up for a week at least.”
“My God, André, a week?”
“Three would be better, old friend.” André was amused at Tyrer’s miserable countenance. “I’m not only saving you enormous money but an ocean of aggravation. It’s important you act as if you couldn’t care less, that you were pissed at the delays and breaking appointments and Raiko’s outrageous asking price—particularly to an important official like you! That’s a good thing to throw at Nakama once or twice. But not more, he’s a sharp fellow, no?”
“Yes, yes, he is, and very knowledgeable.”
Yes, André thought, and soon it will be time to share all of it with me, both what he’s told you and what I have gleaned for myself. Interesting that he speaks English—thank God my spies have their ears open as well as their eyes. That explains a lot, though I don’t know why he won’t speak English to me or even Japanese whenever I’ve caught him alone. I suppose because Willie ordered him not to.
“Now,” he continued quietly, “Raiko will ask me a dozen times to intercede and arrange a rendezvous. After a week I’ll reluctantly agree. Don’t let Nakama do it or let him in on the game and when you see Raiko, act tough, and with Fujiko. You’ve got to be very convincing, Phillip.”
“But …”
“Tell Raiko she was correct to consider her client’s interests,
yours
, first—particularly as you are an important official, harp on that—giving you time to consider the matter carefully. You quite agree it’s better to be prudent, that buying ‘the woman’s’ contract now is not a good idea. Use that term and not Fujiko by name—don’t forget from their point of view you’re only discussing a piece of merchandise at this stage, not the lady you adore. Thank Raiko, and say with her help you have thought carefully and believe buying a contract would be a mistake. You’ll just hire ‘the woman’s’ services from time to time, and if ‘the woman’ is busy,
shikata ga nai—
it doesn’t matter—life’s too short, etc.”
Tyrer had listened attentively and knew that André was right and groaned at the thought of not seeing Fujiko for a week, already imagining her suffering under the hulk of every gai-jin in Yokohama. “I … I agree with what you say but—but I don’t … I don’t think I can do it, I mean the acting.”
“You have to and why not? They’re acting all the time, all the time! Haven’t you noticed they live lies as the truth and the truth as lies? Women have no option, especially in the Floating World. Men? They’re worse. Remember the Bakufu, the Council of Elders, what about them and what about Nakama, especially Nakama? They’re past masters at the game, and
that’s all it is. Why be a pigeon, why let Raiko humble you and at the same time thrust gold you can’t afford—can never afford—into her hands just because you are trying to assuage a never-ending ache that God implanted in us?”
André shivered. He knew the trap too well. He was in it. Raiko had pressed him far beyond his own financial limit. That’s not true, he told himself irritably. It’s all right to twist the truth and lie with other people but don’t do it with yourself, your secret self, or you are lost. The truth is I rushed to the limit and beyond, gladly. Seventeen days ago.
The instant Raiko first introduced me to the girl …
The instant I saw her, she of the raven hair and alabaster skin and alluring eyes, I knew I would give Raiko my soul and walk into the Everlasting Pit to possess her. Me, André Edouard Poncin, servant of France, spymaster, killer, expert on the vileness of human nature, me the great cynic, in an instant I had fallen in love. Madness! But true.
The instant the girl had left the room, me helpless and tongue-tied, I said, “Raiko, please. Whatever ask, I pay.”
“So sorry, Furansu-san, this matter will cost more money than I care to mention, even if she agrees to be with you—she has not yet agreed.”
“Whatever money, I pay. Please ask, ask if agrees.”
“Of course. Please come back tomorrow, at dusk.”
“No. Please. Now ask—ask now, I wait.”
He had had to wait almost two hours. While he waited he fretted and prayed and hoped and died and died again. When Raiko returned and he saw her set face, he began to die once more but rushed to life as she said, “Her name is Hinodeh, meaning Sunrise. She is twenty-two and she says yes, but there are conditions. Apart from money.”
“Whatever Hinodeh want.”
“Best to listen first.” Raiko was more somber than he had ever seen her. “Hinodeh says she will be your consort, not courtesan, for a year and a day. If on that last day she decides to remain with you, she will give you her
in-ochi
, her spirit, and be with you for another year, and another, year by year until she decides to leave or you tire of her. If she wishes to leave, you swear to release her freely.”
“Agreed. When begin?”
“Wait, Furansu-san, there’s much more. There will be no mirrors in your house, and you will bring none into it. When she disrobes, the room will always be dark—except once, the first time. Only once, Furansu-san, you may see her. Next, the moment any … any disfiguring mark appears,
or whenever she may ask you
, without hesitation you will bow to her and bless her, and be her witness and give her the poison cup, or knife, and watch and wait until she is dead to honor her sacrifice.”
His mind spun out of control. “Dead?”
“She said she would prefer the knife but did not know a gai-jin’s choice.”
When he could get his brain working, he said, “I—I the judge if—if mark disfiguring?”
Raiko shrugged. “You or she, it does not matter. If she decides to ask, then you must honor your promise. It will all be written into the contract. You agree?”
After he had sifted that, the horror of it, and made peace with it, he said, “Then sickness her early, no mark yet?”
Raiko’s eyes were unrelenting, her voice so gentle, so terribly final, the stillness in her room so vast. “Hinodeh has no disease, Furansu-san, none. She is blemishless.”
His head seemed to explode with “she is blemishless” echoing in the sky of his mind together with his all-pervading shriek to himself “but you’re Unclean!”
“Why? Why agree? Why? Why she …
she know … know my … my bad. Yes?”
A maid, waiting on the veranda outside, frightened by his bellowing voice, pulled the shoji open. Then, waved away by Raiko, obediently closed it again. Delicately Raiko sipped her saké. “Of course she knows, Furansu-san. So sorry.”
He wiped the saliva from the corners of his mouth. “Then why … agree?”
Again the strangeness. “Hinodeh will not tell me, so sorry. It is part of my agreement with her that I do not press her to know, as it must be part of your agreement with her. We are not to press her, she says she will tell in her own time.” Raiko had exhaled heavily. “So sorry, but you must agree as part of the contract. That is the final condition.”
“Agreed. Please make contract …”
After an agony of time—only a few days—it had been signed and sealed and he went with Hinodeh, him Unclean and her Clean, in all her glory, and tomorrow he would again …
André almost leapt out of himself as a hand grasped his shoulder and he found himself back in Struan’s great room. It was Phillip saying, “André, are you all right?”
“What? Oh, oh yes …” André’s heart was palpitating, cold sweat making his flesh crawl, that and the memory of “Blemishless” and “First Time” and the horror of it—and dreading tomorrow. “Sorry, I … a cat was walking on my grave.” All at once the room pressed down on him and he had to get out into the air. He got up, groped away, mumbling, “Ask … ask Henri to play, I … I don’t feel … sorry, have to leave …”
Blankly, Tyrer stared after him. Babcott wandered over from the
roulette wheel. “What’s up with him? Poor fellow looks as though he’s seen a ghost.”
“Don’t know, George. One moment he was all right, the next, mumbling and white as a sheet, sweat pouring off him.”
“Was it anything you were talking about?”
“Don’t think so, he was just advising me what to do about Fujiko and Raiko, nothing about him at all.” They watched André leave as though the room were empty.
Babcott frowned. “Not like him, he’s usually so debonair.” Poor chap, must be his affliction—wish to God I could supply a cure, wish to God there was a cure.
“Talking about debonair,” Tyrer was saying, “I didn’t know you were such an accomplished dancer.”
“Nor did I,” the giant said with a booming laugh. “I was inspired, she’d inspire anyone. Normally I dance like a rhino.” They looked across at her. “Extraordinary constitution that girl, and wonderful, infectious laugh.”
“Yes, Malcolm’s a lucky fellow. ’Scuse me, I’d best ask Henri to sub for André …” He wandered off.
Babcott watched Angelique. Curious that a doctor can examine a patient and not be aroused, he thought, even with someone like her. I wasn’t, the times she consulted me at Kanagawa or here, though there was never any intimate examination, never a need except for the unusual heaviness of her period, a few weeks ago, when a careful examination was clearly necessary, though she never allowed it. I’d never seen her so pale or her lips so bloodless. Come to think of it, she acted strangely, wouldn’t let me near her, just let me into her room briefly, almost as a stranger, when the evening before—the time I returned her crucifix—I had listened to her heart, tapped her chest and back and stomach and she had behaved like a normal patient. I remember her pulse was quite agitated, for no apparent reason. Curious behavior.
Have I missed something? he asked himself, watching her at the roulette table, bubbling with life, clapping her hands with childlike glee when she won Red or Black, Zergeyev and others teaching her the finer arts of gambling. Strange she doesn’t wear her cross as most Catholics would, especially as it was a gift from her adored mother.
“Grand party, Malcolm,” Sir William said, coming up to him, stifling a yawn. “Time for me to turn in.”
“Another brandy?” Malcolm was sitting near the inglenook fireplace, the fire down to embers now.
“No, thanks, my back teeth are awash. Great lady, Malcolm, great sport.”
“Yes,” he agreed proudly, mellowed by the wine and brandies that deadened the pain and calmed his fluttering panic for the future. Not as strongly as the medicine, he thought. Never mind, it’s a beginning.
“Well, good night.” Sir William stretched. “Oh, by the way,” he said, his voice easy, “could you drop by sometime tomorrow, any time that suits.”
Malcolm looked up sharply, the thought of his mother’s letter putting ice into his stomach again. “Say eleven?”