The Green Jade Dragon

by Evelyn James

  “My uncle would still be alive but for this dragon,” Jacobs murmured. “I would rather he had lived. This memento cannot replace him.”

  “I think you are making a wise decision,” Clara told him. “The dragon will only bring you anxiety while it remains here. Let the Japanese have that worry.”

  “That is what I thought,” Jacobs nodded. “And, if there is anything I can do for you… perhaps a letter to Chang to explain you were not involved?”

  “Do not worry about it,” Clara brushed aside the offer. “I will sort it all out.”

  Mr Jacobs nodded.

  “Thank you, Miss Fitzgerald. I put you to a lot of trouble to retrieve an object I no longer want in my house. I was a fool.”

  “No, Mr Jacobs, you were just trying too hard,” Clara sighed, deciding forgiveness was the order of the day. “Just take care of yourself from now on.”

  Mr Jacobs managed a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  Clara strolled home, thinking. She had one final task before she could rest easily.

  Back at home, Clara used the telephone to ring the Chang Emporium. She asked to speak to Mr Chang, insisting it was urgent. There was a long delay, the phone receiver at the Emporium must have been placed to one side as Clara could hear the noises of people bustling about. Eventually she was allowed to speak to Chang’s secretary, and through her she was finally granted an audience with the man himself.

  Brilliant Chang sounded gruff on the telephone.

  “Miss Fitzgerald,” he growled down the line. “You know you broke a tooth when you kicked me?”

  “You were holding a knife to my throat,” Clara replied. “I wasn’t feeling merciful.”

  “Why are you ringing me?” Chang demanded.

  “Because I want to agree to a truce, for the moment, at least,” Clara explained. “You are angry with me, but I swear I was not aware of the police presence yesterday. Had I been, I would have made jolly sure I was not near enough to you to let you grab me.”

  “That did seem unusually lax for you,” Chang admitted grudgingly.

  “I won’t hold a grudge over the knife you held to my throat, as long as you won’t hold a grudge over the police,” Clara bargained.

  “What about the hat pin and my tooth?”

  “I rather felt you deserved both of those,” Clara answered. “By the way, do you still have the hat pin? It wasn’t mine, you see.”

  Chang gave out a chuckle down the phone line.

  “You are quite something Miss Fitzgerald! I have never known a woman like you!” his tone sounded less aggressive. “You stab a man with a hat pin and then politely ask for it back! If you were not so conscientiously moral, I would invite you to work for me.”

  “I’m afraid our personalities would clash,” Clara informed him. “So, can we call this one a draw?”

  Chang was silent a while, then he let out a long breath.

  “I really have no desire to be chasing you about. In any case, you make my life miserable every time I get caught up with you. All right, I’ll let this one be counted as a draw, but next time we meet Miss Fitzgerald, I won’t be so generous.”

  “Nor will I,” Clara promised him. “I was very careful with my aim of the hat pin, though you might not credit that.”

  “I don’t,” Chang muttered.

  “Take care of the tooth,” Clara said breezily down the phone. “I hear dentists can work wonders these days. And I hope your thigh is well again soon.”

  “Don’t push your luck,” Chang grumbled.

  Clara was smirking to herself and very glad Chang could not see her face.

  “Goodbye Mr Chang.”

  “Goodbye you infernal woman,” Chang griped down the phone. “Stay in Brighton.”

  “Stay in London,” Clara replied and then the line went dead.

  Clara returned to the parlour feeling that her case was finally wrapped up. The dragon would go home to where it belonged. Chang would leave her alone, for the time being, and Mr Jacobs would slowly pick up the pieces of his broken memories. Perhaps he regretted involving Clara, but that was hardly her fault. She had only gone after the truth, and sometimes the truth was not pretty.

  Captain O’Harris wandered into the parlour, he had a big scroll of paper under his arm.

  “I’m heading to the house,” he said. “Going to go over my new plans with an architect. Would you like to come?”

  Clara looked up, pleased to see the eagerness in his face. He was finally coming alive again.

  “Of course,” she said gladly.

  Holding out his arm, so Clara could loop hers through his, they headed together for the door. Clara reflected that as one adventure came to its conclusion, so another was just waiting to begin. That was what made life so exciting.

  Clara Fitzgerald walked out into the autumn sunshine and looked up to a blue sky. She was very content with her life in that moment, very content indeed.