Killigrew and the Golden Dragon

by Jonathan Lunn

  ‘Good evening, Molineaux.’ He indicated the seaman’s prisoner. ‘Seen any more like that?’

  ‘’Bout a dozen of ’em, sir. Our old sparring partner Zhai Jing-mu was with ’em. They jumped on to a smug boat and cut and ran. Oily, Jem and Joe went back aboard the Tisiphone in the gig to alert the cap’n.’

  Killigrew glanced across the harbour to see that the Tisiphone was under sail, moving out from her anchorage. But the wind was light, the sails sagging limply from the yards, and there was no sign of the smug boat. Such vessels were also known as ‘fast boats’ with good reason. The Tisiphone would have had her fires banked, and it would be some time before she could get steam up.

  ‘Damn it!’ Killigrew rammed his dress-sword back in its scabbard with a gesture of frustration.

  ‘But apart from that, sir, how did you enjoy the ball?’ asked Molineaux.

  * * *

  With the Tisiphone off on its futile pursuit of Zhai Jing-mu, there was nothing for it but for Killigrew and Strachan to spend the night at the Hong Kong Club, where Lieutenant Dwyer signed them in as guests.

  Killigrew was so tired he fell fast asleep at once, but he was troubled by nightmares. He slept fitfully until the creeping light of dawn slipped through the louvres on the window to tickle him awake long before one of the club stewards came to rouse him. He shaved, washed and dressed – back in his dress uniform – and made his way downstairs to take breakfast on the verandah. Presently Strachan joined him, yawning, blinking owlishly, his hair every which way but flat. The assistant surgeon was not a morning person.

  ‘Is the Tisiphone back yet?’

  Killigrew had already surveyed the ships in the harbour and he did not bother to look up from his newspaper. ‘Not yet.’ He was nursing a pounding headache and his neck felt as though it had been put through a wringer. Whoever had hit him the previous night had a punch like a steam-hammer.

  Strachan slumped into a chair in time to order devilled kidneys for breakfast, while Killigrew preferred scrambled eggs on toast. They were reading the morning papers over a pot of tea when Lieutenant Dwyer entered.

  ‘Good morning, gentlemen. I trust you slept well?’

  ‘As well as can be expected,’ said Killigrew. ‘Will you join us for a cup of tea?’

  ‘I do believe I shall.’ He signalled for a flunkey to bring a third cup and saucer. While the tea was being poured out, one of the white-coated club porters approached the table with three envelopes on a silver salver. He placed the salver on the table. ‘Hullo,’ said Dwyer, shuffling the envelopes. ‘One for you here, Killigrew.’

  Killigrew tore open his letter. ‘Ah. From Rear-Admiral Collier. He wants me to report to him on board the Hastings at nine.’

  ‘You too, eh?’ Dwyer held up one of his letters, an almost exact replica of the one Killigrew held, before opening the other.

  ‘How come I don’t get invited?’ asked Strachan.

  ‘Be grateful,’ Killigrew told him. ‘After last night’s fiasco, I don’t think anything the admiral’s going to have to say to us is likely to be complimentary.’ He glanced across and saw Dwyer frown as he perused his other letter. ‘Bad news?’

  Dwyer glanced up, quickly folded the envelope and tucked it inside his jacket. ‘No. Possibly good news, actually. What time do you make it?’

  ‘Nearly eight o’clock. We’d better get underway if we’re to report to the admiral on time.’ Killigrew dabbed his lips with a napkin and rose to his feet, leading the way outside. Under the portico in front of the club, Dwyer seemed to hesitate.

  ‘Not coming with us, Lieutenant?’ asked Killigrew.

  ‘Erm… no. Give the admiral my apologies, would you? I’m afraid I’ve got another appointment.’

  Army officers were not at the beck and call of the navy; nevertheless, it was not done for a mere lieutenant to snub a rear-admiral. But if that was what Dwyer intended to do, that was his business, no matter how curious Killigrew might find it. ‘All right. We’ll see you later, perhaps.’

  Killigrew and Strachan found Molineaux waiting for them outside the gates to the club grounds. ‘Good God, Molineaux!’ exclaimed Killigrew. ‘You haven’t been out here all night, have you? I do apologise for my thoughtlessness, if I’d known… You really should have said something…’

  ‘Not me, sir. I spent the night on a yolo.’

  ‘This wouldn’t be the same yolo on which you had your little altercation with Captain Ingersoll, would it?’

  Molineaux grinned. ‘That’d be telling, sir.’

  As the three of them made their way down to the wharf they saw the Tisiphone returning to harbour under steam. ‘Think you can persuade your Tanka girl to take us back?’

  ‘A dollar could do it better than me, sir.’

  As Mei-rong sculled Killigrew, Strachan and Molineaux back to the steam-sloop, the signals flew thick and fast between the Tisiphone and the Hastings. Commander Robertson was likewise being summoned into the presence of the rear-admiral; it was reassuring for Killigrew that he would not have to face Collier’s wrath alone.

  The yolo bumped against the Tisiphone’s side and Killigrew paid Mei-rong a dollar before following Strachan and Molineaux up the side-ladder. Hartcliffe awaited them on deck.

  ‘I’m damnably sorry, Killigrew. I’m afraid that devil gave us the slip. We spent all night looking for him, but he just vanished into thin air.’

  Killigrew shook his head. ‘There must be a thousand creeks and inlets within ten miles of here that haven’t been charted, and I’ll lay odds Zhai Jing-mu knows them all like the back of his hand.’

  Robertson came up on deck and the gig was lowered from its davits to carry him and Killigrew across to the Hastings. The gig reached the flagship’s accommodation ladder first and Robertson and Killigrew climbed up to the quarter-deck where they found the Hastings’ commander, Captain Francis Morgan, awaiting them.

  ‘You’re a couple of minutes early, gentlemen.’

  ‘We didn’t want to keep the admiral waiting, sir.’

  A dour, strait-laced, humourless man, the very antithesis of the Captain Morgan of buccaneering fame, Morgan sniffed and escorted the two of them down to the admiral’s quarters. He knocked on the door.

  ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Morgan, sir, with Commander Robertson and Lieutenant Killigrew to see you, sir.’

  ‘Show them in.’ Collier’s voice sounded deceptively mild. The calm before the storm, thought Killigrew.

  Morgan ushered them inside. Collier sat at the table in his day room, going over some paperwork. He did not look up as the three men stood to attention before him. Collier made another note in the margin of the report he was reading before he spoke, still without looking up. ‘Where’s Lieutenant Dwyer?’

  ‘Had another appointment, sir,’ said Killigrew.

  Collier glanced up at him. He was a choleric man and he did not look pleased. ‘Oh, did he?’ he said heavily. ‘Well, Commander? Did you catch Zhai Jing-mu?’

  ‘No, sir,’ Robertson replied flatly.

  Collier drained the excess ink from the nib of his pen and leaned back in his chair. ‘There have been some great days in the annals of the Royal Navy, gentlemen. Days like the Nile, Trafalgar, the Glorious First of June. On the other hand, there have been some downright disastrous days. Days like the fall of Minorca, the sinking of the Royal George, and Admiral Sir Cloudesley Shovell’s attempt to take a short cut through the Scilly Isles. I put it to you, gentlemen, that last night’s fiasco was on a par with those.’

  ‘An exaggeration, I think, sir,’ ventured Killigrew. ‘Besides, it was not the responsibility of the Royal Navy to keep Zhai Jing-mu under lock and key.’

  Collier looked up at the lieutenant and glared. ‘It may not have been our responsibility, Mr Killigrew, but the fact remains that you had Zhai Jing-mu in your hands, and you let him slip away! Three navy ships in the harbour, God knows how many men in Staveley’s garrison, not to mention the Hong Kong Police, and against all t
hat a handful of Triads were able to sail straight into the harbour unchallenged, break Zhai Jing-mu out of the gaol, and then escape again without let or hindrance.’

  ‘According to one of my hands who confronted the Triads on the wharf as they made their escape, there were at least a dozen men involved in the breakout,’ Robertson said mildly. ‘Not counting the crew of the smug boat. It’s difficult to see what Killigrew could have done against them on his own.’

  ‘Perhaps not charging in through the front door – while Zhai Jing-mu was charging out of the back, leaving only a rearguard to take care of foolhardy naval lieutenants – would have been a good start,’ snorted Collier. ‘Assistant Superintendent Cargill tells me you allowed yourself to be knocked unconscious, Killigrew. Might I ask how?’

  ‘I suspect one of the Triads used wu-yi on me, sir. You know, like Bannatyne’s comprador did at the ball last night.’

  ‘If one more clipper is lost because you let Zhai Jing-mu slip through your fingers, Lieutenant, I’ll do a damned sight worse than use wu-yi on you. You made a laughing stock of the navy last night. Fortunately today’s papers went to press before news of last night’s debacle came out, but I’m not looking forward to reading tomorrow’s. There are elements in the House of Commons – you know who I’m talking about – who’d like to see swingeing cuts in the naval estimates. The mess you made of things last night is nothing more than grist to their mill. Go on, get out of my sight, the pair of you. And don’t let me see you again until you’ve brought me Zhai Jing-mu’s head on a platter.’

  Robertson and Killigrew saluted and made their way back to the gig tied up alongside. ‘Thank you, sir,’ Killigrew said as they were rowed back to the Tisiphone.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Coming to my defence.’

  ‘Hmph. Don’t know why I bothered. Collier’s absolutely right, Second. We made utter fools of ourselves last night.’

  ‘There is a solution, sir.’

  ‘Oh, please enlighten me, Lieutenant, do!’

  ‘We find Zhai Jing-mu and his fleet and sink it.’

  ‘Capital notion. And how do you propose we go about that?’

  ‘Zhai Jing-mu is supposed to have a fleet of over fifty junks, sir. You can’t hide that many junks easily. He must have a base of operations somewhere, a place where he can careen them, grave their hulls, ship supplies, ammunition, unload his plunder.’

  ‘The thought had occurred to me, Second,’ said Robertson. ‘Just how do you propose we find this base? There are over two thousand miles of coastline between Saigon and Shanghai; not counting every island, creek, river, lagoon and inlet large enough to conceal a fleet of fifty junks. At present Collier has seven vessels under his command. Do you have any idea how long it would take to search it all?’

  ‘We faced a similar problem on the Guinea Coast, sir. We still managed to find the Owodunni Barracoon.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Killigrew, thanks to Admiral Napier I’m well aware of your exploits at Owodunni the year before last. I hope you’re not seriously proposing to try to join the crew of a pilong junk? Somehow I can’t see you passing yourself off as a Chinaman.’

  ‘No, sir, but there are easier ways of finding something than an exhaustive search. Someone knows where that pilong base is. We just have to ask the right man.’

  ‘Take your pick, Mr Killigrew. The population of China is said to number in hundreds of millions.’

  ‘With your permission, sir, I’d like to start with the Triad Able Seaman Molineaux captured last night. If the Triads have such close links with the pilongs—’

  ‘I hardly think he’ll blurt out the location of Zhai Jing-mu’s base to you.’

  ‘That all depends on how I ask him, sir.’

  ‘If you weren’t an officer and a gentleman, Killigrew – and I confess I sometimes have my doubts – I’d say that sounded like a proposal to inflict torture on the fellow.’

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.’

  ‘I should hope not. All right, Second, take the rest of the day off. What you choose to do with it is your own affair. If you can find out where Zhai Jing-mu’s base is, all well and good. If I hear you’ve been torturing prisoners awaiting trial, I’ll disown you. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘As crystal, sir.’

  * * *

  Captain d’Acosta of the Royal Engineers reined in his horse on the bridle path leading south from Happy Valley, high up in the central mountains of the island. ‘Dwyer!’

  Lieutenant Dwyer wheeled back to where he had halted. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Show me the letter again.’

  Dwyer reached inside his tunic and passed the letter he had received at the Hong Kong Club that morning to his friend.

  D’Acosta scanned the single page. ‘It says to come alone. Why alone, Dwyer? And why in the middle of nowhere, on the south side of the island? It’s got to be a trap.’

  ‘Of course. Why do you think I’m not going alone?’

  ‘But why d’you have to drag me into this?’

  ‘Because I know I can trust you. Look, maybe it isn’t a trap. Shen is Bannatyne’s comprador, for God’s sake. He’s not going to try anything against two of Her Majesty’s officers. Maybe he does know where we can find Zhai Jing-mu. If he does, there are plenty of reasons why he wouldn’t want to meet us in Victoria.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Maybe he’s frightened that the Triads will see him talking to us and guess he’s betraying them. And even if it is a trap; well, if there’s more than two of them we’ll just turn tail and get the deuce out of there. Discretion’s the better part of valour, after all. And if there’s only a couple of them we’ll take them into custody and hand them over to Cargill.’

  ‘If you ask me we should hand this letter over to Cargill and be done with it, let the police deal with it.’

  ‘And let them get all the glory of capturing Zhai Jing-mu for themselves? I told you what a hash they made of things last night, ably abetted by Her Majesty’s navy. Well, here’s a chance for the army to succeed where everyone else has failed, and I’m not going to let it pass.’ Without waiting to see if d’Acosta followed, Dwyer dug his spurs into his horse’s flanks and rode down the slope towards Tai Tam Bay on the south side of the island.

  The fishing station was where Shen’s letter had said the rendezvous would be, on the peninsula which formed the right-hand side of the bay. The mat-shed building looked ramshackle and deserted. Dwyer reined his horse about fifty yards down the beach and swung himself down from the saddle, checking his percussion pistol while he waited for d’Acosta to catch up.

  The captain of Engineers rode up and reined in. He nodded to the fishing station. ‘In there?’ he exclaimed incredulously.

  Dwyer nodded. ‘Come on, man. Show some spunk. Got your pistol?’

  ‘And my sword.’

  They tied their horses to a wooden post which might once have formed part of a breakwater, and then crunched across the shingle to the fishing station. Dwyer stepped on to the boardwalk outside and pushed the door open. It creaked eerily to reveal Shen seated in the gloom within, dressed in a white linen suit. The comprador struck a brimstone match and opened an oil lamp to apply it to the wick within, before shaking out the match. ‘Come in, Lieutenant Dwyer.’

  Dwyer glanced about cautiously, but it was obvious the comprador was alone in the place. Reassured, he entered. ‘You said in your letter you might know where I could find Zhai Jing-mu.’

  ‘You have brought the letter?’

  Dwyer nodded. ‘Captain d’Acosta’s got it.’

  ‘Call him in. He is too conspicuous standing out there.’

  ‘Sir!’

  The engineer captain entered. Seeing only Shen, he too relaxed, although not so far as to return his pistol to its holster.

  Shen got up and crossed to the door, glancing out before closing it behind them. ‘You made sure you were not followed?’

  ‘Yes, yes!’ Dwyer said impatiently. ‘Are you going to tell u
s where Zhai Jing-mu is, or not?’

  ‘I asked you to come alone.’

  ‘I wasn’t sure if this was a trap.’

  ‘A wise precaution. What I have to tell you is for your ears only, however.’

  ‘Anything you’ve got to say to me you can say to Captain d’Acosta as well.’

  ‘I think not.’ Shen brought the edge of his open hand down against the side of d’Acosta’s neck. Dwyer heard the bone snap audibly. He whirled with the pistol in his hand. Shen’s leg shot out and smashed Dwyer’s wrist against the wall. The lieutenant dropped the pistol with an agonised sob. He sank to the floor and pulled his sword from its scabbard, trying to ward off the comprador.

  Shen snatched the sword effortlessly from his grip. Sneering, he bent it into a U-shape before tossing it into one corner of the room. Then he picked up a rough sack.

  ‘What’s in there?’ Dwyer whispered fearfully.

  ‘Nothing. Yet. Soon it will be full of heads.’

  ‘Heads…?’

  ‘Lieutenant Killigrew’s; Miss Dadabhoy’s; and yours, Lieutenant. I have a message from Zhai Jing-mu.’ Shen grabbed Dwyer by the front of his tunic and hoisted him to his feet. ‘He asked me to tell you he always keeps his promises.’

  The last thing Dwyer saw before one of his own ribs stabbed his heart was Shen’s fingertips effortlessly piercing his chest.

  Chapter 8

  The Akhandata

  Back on board the Tisiphone Killigrew made his way to his cabin, changed into his pea jacket and pilot cap, packed some things in a holdall, and got some of the hands to row him to the wharf. He made his way first to the police office and was presently ushered into Assistant Superintendent Cargill’s presence.

  ‘Killigrew! ’ Cargill leaped to his feet and came around the desk to pump his hand. ‘Good to see you back on your feet so soon!’ He clapped him on the back. ‘How are you feeling?’