The Mysterious Alexandra Tarasova-Yusupov

by Carl Douglass

  “Yes,” he answered tersely.

  “How about moving opium on your ships?”

  He was getting into bed with the devil; but he was already in for a kopek, why not go in for a rouble?

  “Opium transporting is legal in Great Britain, is it not?”

  Boris knew the answer but wanted assurances. Prison or the gallows was not something he wanted to be part of the risks of being partners with the likes of high society in Colombo or Shanghai.

  “We fought two wars with the yellow midgets and won both of them over our God-given right to move opium. The last one—which ended in 1860—settled the question forever. It brought down the Qing Dynasty, and gave us unheard of rights to operate in China. You can stop worrying your handsome little head over such trivialities.”

  This was the moment of truth.

  “I will talk to my wife and partner. I presume that she will agree with me, and you will have made a new partnership. Drawing up the papers will keep a dozen lawyers busy for a month.”

  Armitage reached out his large callused hand which enveloped Boris’s more refined hand and squeezed it hard enough to cause pain. His hard, slate-colored eyes looked at Boris’s softer blue eyes waiting for him to show weakness, but Boris fought successfully to avoid even a minor embarrassment or opportunity for Armitage to have leverage over him.

  Meanwhile, Alexandra was carrying on her own verbal jousting match with Sir Edwin Appleby and Lashith Chathura Pathmarajah-Dassanayake–the smooth talking, perfectly dressed Sinhalese chief officer of the Bay of Bengal Company–neither of whom she trusted; and she knew that neither of them had respect for her as a business woman.

  “Gentlemen, we have enjoyed a fine dinner, excellent drinks and wine, and cordial chatting. Not to seem brash or impolite, but don’t you think it is time to talk business? I came to Colombo and then to this pleasant evening with more in mind than to enjoy a few genteel pleasures. I traveled from Vladivostok for business, representing the firm of Jardine-Matheson-Tarasova, and most recently, Yusupov. None of those people got to where they are today by suffering fools. My business credentials are strong despite my youth. I am a registered ship’s captain and an owner and chief officer of a large commercial and shipping operation on my own merits.

  “I offer, on behalf of my husband and myself, to enter into a nonexclusive partnership with you; or if that seems to be an overreach, then we can agree to honorable and binding contracts to do business with one another without concerns over cost or profit sharing.”

  “What do you bring to the table, Alexandra?” Dassanayake queried, a slight condescending smirk in his smile.

  “Please refer to me by my title, Princess Yusupov, Mr. Pathmarajah-Dassanayake, since it appears that formality will be necessary.”

  “Please, Princess, I think I have gotten us off on the wrong foot. I regret having given offense. Could we start again?”

  “Why of course, Lashith. I always like to do business among friends. How do you feel about that Sir Edwin?”

  “Edwin will suffice. Now perhaps we can negotiate properly and come to an agreement, or we can separate on good terms.”

  “And I am fine with Alexandra.”

  “Please, Alexandra, let us know what you offer?”

  “Lashith, Edwin, I am sure you have investigated my background and that of my family. You are also, no doubt, aware of the power and influence of the Yusupov family—second only to the tzar and his family in wealth and power. No one in this colony doubts the strength of the taipan and of the Jardine-Matheson Company. Boris and I bring all of that to the table as you so quaintly put it. More than that, I personally command six ships and all the sailors and marines on them. I am on a first name basis with the heads of almost every trading company in Japan, the Chosŏn peninsula, South China, and north and eastern Russia. Our trading arrangements net us all millions of pounds sterling, roubles, won, dollars, yen, Thai baht, and German marks.

  “We hold substantial bank accounts in the Bank of Japan, multiple Qianzhuang banks in a number of Chinese cities and our principle bank in Asia—the HSBC [The Hong Kong and Shanghai Banking Corporation] located on the Bund. In Great Britain we have accounts in the Lancaster Banking Company, the Bristol Old bank, the Manchester and Liverpool District Banking Company, and the National Provincial Bank. Our banking in Germany is with Deutsche Bank, Commerz Bank, Lehmann Bank in Halberstadt, and Goldschmidt Bank in Hamburg; our two French banks are Banque de Paris et des Pays-Bas and the Rothschild bank. In Chosŏn, we bank with the Russo-Chosŏn Bank in Yongdo. In Russia we have banking accounts in Moscow—Poliakoff’s Bank and the Moskowsky Zemelny Bank. In Saint Petersburg–Nicolai and Ludwig Stieglitz Bank and J.Y. Guenzburg Bank; in Novonikolaevsk—the Siberian Trade Bank, and Irkutsk—the Sberbank. We have a growing account in San Francisco in America—Naglee’s Exchange Bank.”

  “Tell us more about your maritime interests, Alexandra?” Sir Edwin Appleby asked. “That seems to be your area of greatest interest and expertise.”

  “All right, let’s begin inland. You are probably familiar with the world-famous immense Lake Baikal located between the Irkutsk and Buryat Oblasts. The people of Irkutsk call it the ‘Blue Pearl of Siberia’; Baikal is the world’s largest, deepest, and purest, freshwater lake; and the lake and its surrounding forests have an nearly untapped emperor’s fortune in nerpa [ring seal], the great fish the Buryats call khelma; and Europeans know as sturgeon and its caviar, giant brown bears, and wolves, whose skins are extremely soft and thick due to the cold climate, whole underwater forests of sponges, omul fish—a white fish which is wonderful smoked—and the oily, scaleless golomyanka fish. There are hundreds of species of birds with beautiful plumage like the roseate spoonbill for ladies’ hats. Baikal snails are found in their thousands in shallow waters flowing into the lake and around the edges of the lake. They, alone, are worth a fortune if harvested and protected properly.”

  “Are you exploiting those riches at present, Alexandra?” asked Sir Edwin.

  “Yes, we are investing in the villages and villagers around the lake for harvesting skins, fish, caviar, and the snails. We have built twelve river going vessels that transport the goods to Irkutsk and a fleet of wagons to haul them to the railroad and then to the sea where we distribute them all around the east and south China sea region.

  “We have a relatively small fleet of commercial vessels under our exclusive ownership and are partners with Jardine-Matheson in their much larger fleet. Both entities are highly lucrative.”

  “Why then, do you seek a partnership or a contractual arrangement with us, Alexandra? Do you just want to eat us up the way the East India Company does?” Pathmarajah-Dassanayake bluntly demanded.

  “To the contrary, we know that we who are not part of the British East India Company will eventually be swallowed up and disappear. History is replete with examples. What we–and what you–need, is to become part of a large and powerful enough consortium to be able to compete successfully against that rapacious company. We have to be rich enough that Asian and European nations will be willing to buy our goods at lower prices to make a profit without having to fight a kind of war against England and its company.”

  “I take it you are not quite there yet,” Sir Edwin said.

  “True, but we are getting there. We are large but must get larger to hold East India at bay, and much larger to defeat them, which is our eventual goal. We are building heavily armed defense vessels to accompany our supply ships, and I estimate that we are about half way to fulfilling that quest.”

  “At present, can you fend off or escape the Red Flag Fleet?” Sir Edwin asked.

  “Yes, we can and have done on repeated occasions. However, Wu Shi’er, Zhèng Yi, and Ching Shih have joined in a massive pirate empire with 70,000 pirates and 1800 fast junks and are steadily growing all the time. Frankly, with your help we can defy or even defeat them, but without it, who knows?”

  “We appreciate your candor, Alexandra. We face our own pro
blem of the Bengal pirates, but they are not as well organized as the Red Flag Fleet. I am concerned about the costs involved in joining forces with you,” Sir Edwin said.

  “And I do not trust the Jardine-Matheson company eaters any more than I do the pirates,” said Pathmarajah-Dassanayake, “and I will not join with them or anyone who makes it a contract imperative to join them in order to do business together.”

  “I have the same misgivings, Alexandra,” said Sir Edwin, “but I would consider having a firm business arrangement with the Tarasova and Yusupov people or perhaps even with you and your husband, Boris, separately. What level of cost do you envision us having to contribute to become partners with you and your father?”

  “The rouble is presently listed on the exchanges as thirty to one U.S. Dollar, which is becoming the most stable and useful money in the world. We would need to have at least 300 million roubles or ten million U.S. dollars to be able to afford to share our profits.”

  “That is very steep, and it does not speak to the costs and risks, my dear,” Sir Edwin said rather patronizingly.

  “We have run in the black for well over a hundred years despite severe winters, labor disputes, fights with pirates and the East India Company. Every year we have become more efficient and richer and have been able to keep debt to the minimum. You are welcome to go over our books once you sign a contract which would allow you to back out if the debts versus profits are unacceptable. I think we have come to a point where further discussion will not be helpful. We can part friends now, or you can become our partners under the conditions I have outlined. Gentlemen, what will it be?”

  Pathmarajah-Dassanayake was about to make a haggling point when Sir Edwin lightly touched his forearm and shook his head.

  “We agree to your terms but know that we will have nothing to do with Jardine-Matheson. I have never trusted that old buccaneer, James Matheson; and I can’t bring myself to accept that nephew of his either,” Sir Edwin said with finality.

  “Done,” Alexandra said, “I will find Boris, and the two of us will sign for ourselves and our families. We will need not only your signatures but a good faith transfer of one-half of the agreed upon buy-in price transferred to our Shanghai bank, the HSBC on the Bund.”

  “Agreed, the two men said almost at once.

  Alexandra brought her good news to Boris and found that he had some of his own.

  In his excitement, he blurted, “Alexandra, I was able to get Glenleven and Lady Miriam Armitage to agree on behalf of their Armitage and Winterbury Commercial House to a full partner ship with the Jardine-Matheson-Tarasova-Yusupov consortium. They have agreed to telegraph 600,000 roubles—twenty million U.S. dollars—to our account with HSBC tomorrow morning if we can all sign tonight. Their attorneys are drafting a contract right now. Does that suit you?”

  “Perfectly. My news is positive but not as good as yours. Lashith Chathura Pathmarajah-Dassanayake of the Bay of Bengal Company and Sir Edwin Appleby of the Ceylon Maritime Spice Trading Company agreed to a contract with us but excluding the Jardine-Jameson connection. They will telegraph ten million U.S. dollars to HSBC tomorrow as well.”

  “Alexandra, it makes me very uncomfortable that we have to exclude the Tarasova, Yusopov, and Matheson families. We may have just jumped into deep water with a shark feeding frenzy. But, like your father, my father, and the taipan, we have to take risks if we are to end our days as the taipans of our own empire and be unassailable by attack from anyone,” Boris said soberly.

  Alexandra nodded her agreement.

  Before noon the next morning, the principles met and went over the contracts with their lawyers. By two in the afternoon, they all agreed that the contracts were sound, and affixed their signatures with high contrast India Ink. A servant sprinkled fine white sand imported from Koh Rong Island, located an hour away from Sihanoukville in Cambodia. The die was now cast.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  A BIT OF SECRET COMMERCE

  “With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not.”

  — Sara Gruen, Water for Elephants

  Aboard the Tarasova-Yusupov Commercial Vessel, the Far East Transporter, Yangshan Deep Water Harbor, Shanghai, May 30, 1879

  From 1863 onwards, the American Concession and the British Settlement joined together to form the much more efficient and profitable Shanghai International Settlement. The French and Chinese remained separate. The Shanghai International Settlement included the land on the banks of the Huangpu River to Suzhou Creek and the area from Yang-ching-pang Creek to Suzhou Creek. The Chinese kept the ancient walled city and all the area of the city surrounding the foreign enclaves. For a decade, the intrepid, clever, and elusive leader of the Three Families Tong, Hou Eadric, conducted his ongoing and highly successful criminal enterprise from his safe house on Old North Szechuan Road in the Chinese sector. He maintained safe houses and his houses of commerce of all sorts on Elgin Street in Central Hong Kong named in honor of James Bruce, the eighth Earl of Elgin, credited for issuing the order to loot and destroy the Summer Palace in Beijing, and in Number 19 Admirala Fokina street, Millionka in Vladivostok.

  At the moment–eleven ten a.m.–the battle-scarred and habitually austere Hou Eadric sat in an overstuffed chair in the lobby of the old Oi Suen Hotel near the Ladies Market. The man was a little over five feet tall, slender with long fingers and very long painted fingernails. He wore bright red lipstick. He had long greying hair and an unruly long mustache and beard made his already almost skeletal face even thinner and a shaved forehead with a long salt-and-pepper grey queue hanging down his back.

  The location was perfect for the wary criminal leader because it was a rundown area frenetically busy with retailers hawking an incredible variety of goods at the top of their lungs day and night. There were no permanent shops in the Ladies Market itself, but stalls and push-carts selling spices, used clothing, bolts of calico and silk, fresh fish and garden vegetables, children’s toys, opium pipes, festival kites, and dirty books. Hou was dressed in his habitual anachronistic old Qing Manchu Changshan fuchsia silk robes with a square green silk emblem sewn down its front. He had on curled-toe silk slippers the shape of a ram’s horn in a non-matching chartreuse color with blood red bows at the point the front of the slippers began their upward turn.

  He was reading the shipping information page in the English-language newspaper, the North China Herald, searching for the item he had come to Shanghai for. As his spies had told him, the item he sought was listed in the section on afternoon arrivals into the harbor:

  “the brigantine Far East Transporter, owner–Jardine-Matheson and Tarasova Far Eastern Russia Trading Company, Captain—Alexandra Tarasovna Yusopov, Cargo—opium, furs, skins, whale oil, and silks will enter the harbor at three p.m. and dock at 4:15 p.m. today, May 30, 1879.”

  Hou finished his cup of strong green chai and walked into the teeming street.

  A waiting servant asked him, “Rickshaw, Master?”

  Hou responded with a barely perceptual haughty nod of his chin, and the boy rushed out into the street and flagged down the first puller he saw. Hou got in and told the puller to take him to the Masonic Club on the Waitan. The Waitan was known by the round-eyes as The Bund and was the most important waterfront area in central Shanghai. The area held several important qualities for Hou: it was extremely busy and diverse; so, no one would question a Chinaman’s presence there. The Waitan centered on a section of East Zhongshan Road which ran along the western bank of the Huangpu River in the eastern part of Huangpu District, with easy access to sail and oarsmen driven launches to carry him and his cargo out to the Far East Transporter waiting in the Yangshan Deep Water Harbor. His two body guards followed immediately behind in another rickshaw.

  It would not have been a positive experience for Hou and his men to have the harbor patrol police stop his launch and to inspect his cargo disguised in uniform bamboo boxes marked with innocuous signs: Soaps,
Perfumes, Feminine Products, and Ceylon Coffee. He knew he did not have to worry because he had paid handsomely for one of the Englishmen–who had a very large gambling debt–to be elected to the Shanghai Municipal Council with its monopolies on shipping licenses, city owned rickshaws, settlement tramways, opium sales, and prostitution. The indentured Britain was in a position to have police look the other way, for a small fee, of course.

  The real outgoing cargo consisted of a multimillion won, rupee, and rouble, consignment of cannabis, cocaine, heroin, morphine with glass syringes and sharp needles, laudanum syrup, and opium in the form of blue pills, bound for Russia, Europe, Turkey, and the Americas—with the base in the U.S. city, Boston, valued conservatively at twenty million USD. It was the largest shipment the Three Families Tong had ever made, and the profit would likely be sufficient for Hou and his wife and concubines to move to Beijing and live out the rest of their lives in relative luxury. Even if he elected not to retire, Hou knew that he could supply a string opium dens he had planned throughout India and Asia for as long as he lived. He blessed the day that he had made a contract with the round-eyed young Russian beauty, Alexandra. In case he ever needed her again, he was determined to be fair in dividing up the profits and to be as polite as only a Chinese gentleman can be.

  Visibility was perfect—a warm, sunny, bright blue-sky day—and the waters were calm as the Far East Transporter made its way into the bustling Port of Shanghai from the Hangzhou Bay entrance south of Shanghai. The port faces the East China sea on the east, Hangzhou Bay on the south and includes the river confluences of the Yangtze, Huanpu, and Qiantang. Hou’s spies had described the exact location where his launch would be anchored with a small time-frame between 4:00 and 5:00 in the afternoon. The area around the central Yangpo buoy was always very busy with fast junks and lumbering coal and iron ore barges moving at their varying speeds. Alexandra was informed that the launch was to be located one hundred meters SSE of the buoy and would be easily recognizable because it was freshly painted in an auspicious Chinese fire red.