by Evelyn James
“Don’t,” Clara told her. “You can’t possibly know all the ins and outs of such a thing and you have to go by the information you have. It is best not to worry about what is right and what is wrong. That gets very difficult. Sometimes, whichever choice you make, none can be absolutely right.”
“Then, I don’t want to do this anymore,” Sarah rose. “Thank you for listening to me, Clara, but this is not the life I want for myself. I want to be free, but not at the expense of others. You have reconciled this business with your conscience, I cannot.”
Clara was hurt. Sarah made it sound as if she did not care about people, that she was quite content to hurt others if it solved a case. Clara did not consider herself so callous, she had just been trying to explain how there were often no perfect solutions to cases. Take the one she was working on at the moment; a crime had been committed, but it could not be resolved by the law. Instead she had to make the best of it.
Sarah wanted to go. Clara showed her out of the house, still feeling offended. She closed the door and wondered what the woman would do with herself now? Clara resolved that it was not her problem anymore and started to head for the parlour. Then she hesitated. Was that what Sarah meant about Clara reconciling her conscience to this business? Had Clara become too hard?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Clara paid a call on Mr Jacobs the following day. She wasn’t entirely sure how to begin explaining the situation to him. There was so much to tell, and very little of it was pleasant. They sat in the parlour of his house, the noise of the workmen wiring his home for electricity a distraction in the background. Jacobs had suggested tea and Clara had agreed to buy her some time. When it finally arrived and there was no choice but to talk, she considered her words carefully.
“I know where the green jade dragon is and how it might be returned to you.”
Mr Jacobs sat bolt upright.
“My word! I thought it almost impossible! Tell me, please.”
“The dragon is in the hands of a rather unpleasant criminal named Brilliant Chang. You may have heard of him?”
Jacobs thought for a moment.
“I do believe his name has come up in the context of antiquities. I wonder if he was the gentleman who came to the Marquis of Surrey’s luncheon the other year where I was a guest speaker? The name sounds Chinese, and this gentleman was certainly that.”
“That is the sort of strata of society he moves in,” Clara nodded. “However, while he masterminded the crime, he was not the instigator of it. That was a Japanese gentleman who has not been named to me. This gentleman has failed to pay Chang and he is now willing to sell the dragon back to you.”
“Sell?” Jacobs gaped in astonishment. “The dragon is mine! Why, on earth, would I buy it back from the thief?”
“Because there may be no other way to retrieve it,” Clara explained. “The police cannot touch Chang, even if we told them that he had your dragon. Chang is too clever for that. And he will have hidden the dragon well. Involve the police and the dragon will probably disappear for good.”
Jacobs was unconvinced. Clara could understand his affront; being asked to buy the very thing stolen from him hurt not just the bank balance, but also a man’s pride.
“And what price does this man demand?” Jacobs asked, trying to reconcile himself with the idea.
Clara took out the slip of paper Chang had written his offer on. She was biting her lip as she handed it over. She had, naturally, opened and read the details and realised that Chang was asking a ridiculous price. He had them over a barrel, that was the problem, and he was not stupid. He would have researched Mr Jacobs thoroughly before attempting the burglary and would know the sort of money the man could afford. And if he didn’t pay it, well, Chang was quite happy to wait a while to find a more accommodating buyer.
Mr Jacobs opened the slip of paper and gasped.
“Preposterous!” he declared. “The dragon is valuable, but this…”
The paper trembled as his hands shook with rage.
“Miss Fitzgerald, this is unspeakable!”
“We might be able to negotiate,” Clara mediated. “But Chang knows the position he has us in. He will bargain hard.”
“This makes up my mind,” Mr Jacobs said firmly, still glowering at the figure on the paper. “I shall go to the police, insist they arrest Mr Chang and search his property for the dragon!”
“I don’t think that will work,” Clara told him gently. “Brilliant Chang is a very cunning criminal and he has avoided the law for a number of years. The only evidence I have for him being behind the theft of the dragon comes from other criminals. They owe their continued employment, even their existence, to Chang and will not betray him. In any case, a court of law would likely perceive them as unreliable witnesses. Chang did not commit the crime and the evidence of other thieves that he was the one who employed them is not going to be enough.”
Clara gave a sigh.
“It is not how I want this case to be. But Chang is good at what he does. He will not have left a paper trail or any physical evidence to suggest he was involved. I must also warn you that Chang moves in influential circles and has powerful friends,” Clara met Jacobs’ eyes. “You said yourself, he was invited to the Marquis of Surrey’s luncheon. Chang knows people, important people. He is the sort of man who cultivates powerful friends, and many of those people owe him greatly and will do all in their power to prevent him being arrested and convicted of this crime. I have to impress upon you that the police have their hands tied in this affair, as do I. I don’t like it, but I can’t change that fact for the moment.”
“I believe in our justice system,” Mr Jacobs replied, his tone firm. “I do not believe that anyone is above the law.”
Clara thought that a very noble way of thinking, but hardly practical considering the situation they were in. The law was made and administered by people, and people were fallible. They could be greedy, corrupt or simply spineless. And Chang knew how to exploit all those features in a man.
“Brilliant Chang has policemen in his pocket,” Clara explained, lowering her voice for fear of being overheard, though the clattering of the men upstairs drowned out most of their conversation. “I know this because last year I helped to expose one such policeman. I like this no more than you do, but I have to be blunt. Involving the police is unlikely to achieve anything but ensure the dragon is out of your reach forever. I appreciate that being made to pay for the dragon is a bitter pill to swallow. I don’t much like that either, but life is not always simple. I suppose, the question you must ask yourself is, do you want to risk losing the dragon for good?”
Jacobs didn’t know how to answer that. The dragon held a great deal of sentiment for him. It had been his uncle’s parting gift, placed in his hand with the implication that he must take great care of it. The item was priceless to him. Yet, his principles made him want to crumple the piece of paper with Chang’s insulting offer into a little ball and throw it into the fire. He wondered what his uncle would do, but the man had been so little known to him, just a memory of a man who Jacobs had idolised, that to try and imagine his response was an exercise in futility.
“There is something else you must consider before making your decision,” Clara continued. “And this will, ultimately, be your decision.”
“There is more about this Chang fellow?” Jacobs asked anxiously.
“No, there is more about your uncle,” Clara hesitated. It was never easy to tell someone that the uncle they admired, hero-worshipped even, had dabbled in illegal activities. “My investigations have revealed that the dragon was originally stolen from the imperial palace. The Japanese have been looking for it for years.”
If Jacobs had not looked astonished before, he certainly did now and nearly fell from his chair. The colour drained from his face and his mouth dropped open.
“Stolen?” his voice came out in a hiss. “By my uncle?”
“Oh no, I don’t think that,” Clara quickly re
assured him. “The dragon was stolen by someone within the palace, and the scandal it caused quite literally resulted in heads rolling. Sometime later, your uncle was sold the dragon, and no doubt bought it innocently enough.”
Clara was not certain of the last part, but she could not prove the situation either way and didn’t see the need to upset Mr Jacobs further.
“However, the imperial authorities learned of the sale and sent two agents to follow your uncle and retrieve the dragon. My understanding is that before your uncle left Japan he became aware he was being pursued and also why.”
Clara paused to allow the implication of this statement to sink in.
“My uncle left Japan knowing he had bought a stolen netsuke,” Jacobs said steadily, the words not really hitting home just yet. He said them in a dull tone, as if talking about someone else.
“He ensured he reached England ahead of his pursuers and then came straight to Brighton to leave the dragon here,” Clara was drip-feeding him the revelation. “Then he returned to London where his pursuers caught up with him once more and, it would seem, inadvertently caused his accident.”
Jacobs was looking at the piece of notepaper still in his hand. The blue ink of Chang’s fountain pen danced across the paper, the numbers he had written blurring. It would take him a long time to reconcile what he was hearing with the memories he had of his uncle.
Clara gave him a moment, then said gently;
“Were you to set the police on Chang, he would most likely reveal the origins of the dragon. There are people in authority who can confirm that such a dragon went missing from the imperial palace. Your claim on the dragon will be as void as Chang’s.”
“You mean, should I wish to keep a stolen item I must not cross the thief who stole it from me?” Mr Jacobs said in that same dull tone. He closed his eyes briefly, clearly struggling with all this information. “My uncle was a great adventurer. Daring, brave. He perhaps did not always play by the rules, but I never would have considered him a willing accomplice in theft. But, then again, what do I really know of him? I was nine when he died and he had visited my father perhaps once a year, usually just after one of his great adventures. He would tell such stories and I would hang off every word. Maybe, all these years, I have invented him in my mind, worked him up to being some great hero, when really he was just a man. Could it be that my uncle was not against appropriating stolen goods when he really liked them? Was the draw of the green jade dragon enough to overrule his conscience?”
“Those are questions I cannot answer,” Clara replied. “We will never know what caused him to make such a decision, we can only know that he was aware that he was being pursued for the sake of the dragon.”
“So,” Mr Jacobs gave a sigh and pulled Chang’s note into his lap. “I must make my own decision then? How much do I value the dragon?”
“You need not decide at once,” Clara reminded him. “Give yourself time for the information to sink in. You can let me know what you wish to do when you are ready.”
“On the contrary, Miss Fitzgerald, I know already what I want,” Mr Jacobs tapped the notepaper. “Whatever its origins, the dragon means a great deal to me, it is the abiding link I have with my late uncle. Perhaps he was a less than honourable man, but he was my uncle. The dragon might be a piece of cultural heritage for the Japanese, but what precisely does that mean? Do they think of the dragon with the same emotion as I do? What will they do if it is returned to them? Seal it in some vault so it may never be stolen again? How can that be the right thing to do? I suppose, what I am saying, is that the Japanese can wait a little longer for their netsuke. Let me cherish it for the last years of my life. When I am gone, then it may be returned.”
Clara listened intently. She had not made her own decision on the matter, thinking it best not to contemplate too hard how she would respond to such a situation. Mr Jacobs seemed to have found a compromise that suited his conscience. The dragon would retain its place in his collection, as a memento of his uncle, and when he finally passed it would be restored to its rightful home. In some regards, it could be imagined that Jacobs was merely borrowing it for a while.
“Does that mean you wish to accept Mr Chang’s offer?”
Jacobs mouth had formed a hard, straight line. He clutched the paper a little tighter.
“I will have to eat my pride to stomach it, but yes, I shall accept the offer. Will you inform Mr Chang?”
“I will,” Clara agreed. “And I shall arrange a meeting with him. Do you have a preference for a time or place?”
Mr Jacobs shook his head.
“Let him do the choosing. As you say, he has me over a barrel,” Jacobs paused. “Do you think me a fool going to such lengths for a piece of jade?”
“No,” Clara answered honestly. “Objects can become very precious to us, for lots of reasons. You are entitled to feel this way.”
“Somehow I suspect this Brilliant Chang will not be so generous to my emotions. Tell him, I accept this written offer alone. Should he suddenly try to raise the price I will walk away. I might be a fool, but I can sometimes see sense.”
Clara reassured him that Chang would be informed of all the details and would be made aware that they would not play any games. They both rose and Jacobs showed Clara to the door personally.
“May I just say, Miss Fitzgerald, I have found you very professional in this affair. You have acted efficiently and discreetly. Once the jade dragon is returned I will gladly pay what I owe you and with gratitude.”
Clara was touched, she thanked him for his trust in her. Mr Jacobs wished her well as she walked away from the house and through his immaculate garden. She was mulling over how best to arrange things with Chang. The meeting would be in London, naturally, and Chang would pick a place where he could have the advantage over them. He would have plenty of his men about in case of trouble. She knew that when it came to a match with Chang she was at a disadvantage, but she would have to make the best of it. She would have her own friends on standby – Bob, Tommy and O’Harris for a start. Should anything happen, Clara could be assured of their help.
Clara felt her stomach knot a little with anxiety. All this fuss for a jade dragon. Still, there was no reason to imagine things would not go smoothly. She headed for home, ready to brave Chang and set up a meeting.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was yet another Saturday in London. They were in a square lined with houses and shops. A fenced garden stood in the centre, a lone statue of a man on horseback guarding its beds and borders. Soot was hanging low in the air, staining clothes and making you want to cough. The autumn was turning and the fires in the houses were being lit. Soon Londoners would return to a world of perpetual smog as winter took a firm hold.
There was a small restaurant on one side of the square. It had a long glass frontage with gold writing on the windows that indicated it sold hot cooked meals and spirits. Chang had named the place as his chosen venue for the sale of the dragon. Clara arrived with Mr Jacobs at the door of the restaurant and glanced briefly inside. She could not see Chang, but he was no doubt around somewhere. There was no telling how many of the men inside the restaurant were employed by him. He would no doubt have stationed several about to watch his back. Clara had followed suit. Bob, Tommy and O’Harris were masquerading as shoppers on the other side of the square. Mr Jacobs had brought his butler with him. Yaxley was sitting in the central garden reading a newspaper and trying to ignore the pigeons at his feet demanding breadcrumbs.
Clara glanced at Mr Jacobs. He nodded. They let themselves into the restaurant, ordered tea, and then sat down at a table near the window to wait.
“I thought he would already be here,” Jacobs glanced at his watch. They were only five minutes early.
“He will be watching for us, somewhere,” Clara promised ominously. “Chang is cautious, of that I am certain.”
“I am actually quite nervous,” Mr Jacobs toyed with his teaspoon. “I can’t remember the last time I
felt this way. But it will be over soon.”
“Absolutely,” Clara was nervous too, but trying not to show it. “Soon we will be heading back to Brighton with the dragon.”
She was just finished talking when the restaurant door opened and the little bell over it rang. Clara had her back to the door, but Mr Jacobs was facing her and could see clearly who came in.
“I believe it is him,” he whispered.
Clara turned in her chair and found herself staring into the smiling face of Brilliant Chang. He walked over, looking expensively dressed in a grey suit and silk tie.
“Miss Fitzgerald,” Chang offered her a bow. “And this must be Mr Jacobs?”
The two men shook hands, though it was plain Mr Jacobs did not like being so close to Chang. Chang took a seat with them and waved his hand to a waitress to order a whisky and soda.
“Would you care for some?” he asked his companions.
“Too early,” Clara shook her head.
Mr Jacobs said nothing.
“Shall we get straight to business then?” Chang pulled a small wooden box from his coat pocket and set it on the table. He flicked open its lid and there, on a velvet cloth, lay the green jade dragon. It was the first time Clara had seen it for real and she was stunned by its elegant beauty. The photographs from the catalogue had not done it justice. The detail was exquisite and almost defied belief. Clara shook her head, mildly astonished.
“A thing of beauty,” Chang smiled at her, before quickly clicking back down the lid. “I can see why you value it so, Mr Jacobs.”
“It is not just for that reason,” Jacobs grumbled, but his eyes were still fixed on the box and any doubts he had retained about paying for it were now gone. He slipped his hand into his own pocket and removed a large brown envelope. “Please count this.”