by Morris West
‘I’ll try; but you must understand something too. If you want to fly away, I won’t try to hold you, even for a moment. I love you too much to deny you the freedom you want; but just make sure you don’t flee from one prison and find yourself in another… women, I’m told, can be very brutal gaolers.’
‘Has that been your experience, Gil?’
‘No, thank God. I was one of the lucky ones. I’ve had a lot of love in my life. I’ve learned to be very careful of it.’
‘Hold me close please, Gil. Hold me very close.’
As I drew her to me and buried my face in her fragrant hair, she began to weep quietly. It took a long time to comfort her. Finally, as she was standing at the mirror repairing her makeup, she said a strange thing.
‘What will you do, I wonder, when the white crow turns to black?’
I asked her what she meant. She seemed not to hear me. Because we had had more than enough of argument, I did not press the question. I kissed her on the neck so I would not smudge her makeup. She reached up and touched my face with her fingertips. Then we drove across the compound in the golf buggy to have cocktails before dinner.
The mood of the gathering had changed since the first morning assembly. The first wariness had gone. People were smiling and chatting in a relaxed fashion. Even the outsiders, Hoshino and Cubeddu, seemed at ease, chuckling at some joke which Boris Vannikov was telling. The language barriers had broken down somewhat and, if you listened carefully, you heard a hodge-podge of words and phrases in different tongues which, in the end, made a kind of lingua franca, quite acceptable for ordinary intercourse.
Among my father’s papers, one of the most valuable documents was an essay which he delivered each year as a three-part lecture to new students, entitled ‘Intercourse on the Frontiers’. He always let the students have their laugh when he announced the title. He always added the same little joke that sex, food, drink were a soldier’s first needs when he shed his battle gear. After that, he invited the class to imagine themselves as legionaries, or camp-followers, Greek hoplites, Viking voyagers or Mongol warriors, set down on the outer limits of conquest or trade. Then he asked a series of questions. After the first bloody encounters, how did they begin to communicate with local tribes? How did languages communicate themselves from one group to another? How did the grammatical structures begin? Why did accents change? I myself had listened, spellbound, to his exposition; I had later published the manuscript in a memorial edition as a tribute to his nurturing of me.
There was another passage in the series which tonight I recalled with a certain poignant clarity. This had to do with the social changes which language itself expressed. My father’s point was that alien elements were necessary catalysts to human development. Strangers, friendly or hostile, created a tension and a dynamic which kept the tribal group alert and alive. I began to wonder whether the positions I had taken with Tanaka, with Marta and in my own complacent conscience, were not already too rigid to endure.
I had the opportunity for a brief word with Carl Leibig. I told him what I had said to Tanaka. He frowned and asked: ‘Was that wise, Gil?’
‘I think so, Carl. The cat was already out of the bag. He knows he still has our qualified support and you and I can both make an honourable exit if things don’t work out.’
‘I haven’t spoken to Tanaka this afternoon. Do you think I should raise the question?’
‘I see no harm. You can tell him of our talk. But don’t reveal that you hold incriminating material.’
‘Franz has dug up some more, on both Hoshino and Cubeddu.’
‘Have him copy it and give it to me before we leave for Tokyo. Also, I’d like to use your office to make some early phone calls tomorrow morning.’
‘It’s yours from seven o’clock, earlier if you want. Did you have a pleasant game?’
‘Very pleasant. My compliments on the greens. They’re in beautiful condition. I lost, of course. It cost me money. See you later.’
As I moved away, I came face to face with Tanya, the Armenian girl, she of the dark eyes and the Madonna face. She gave me a big, reproachful smile and told me: ‘You’ve hardly said two words to me since we arrived, Mr Langton.’
I answered her in her own language. ‘Let me say them now. “Thou art dark and thou art beautiful. Thy lips are scarlet and thy cheeks pink as pomegranates.” ’
She blushed and then laughed. ‘Where did you learn that one?’
‘It’s from the Song of Solomon.’
‘I know; but where did you learn Armenian?’
‘Would you believe, in Venice? You must know the place. The community of Armenian monks on the island of San Lazzaro. Byron used to visit there. Their printing press is well known around the world. My father and I were guests for three months. I still deal with them for classic works in Armenian.’
‘I know of it, but I’ve never been there.’
‘Maybe now, when things are changing so fast in the Soviet Union, you’ll get the chance.’
‘Why don’t you put in a word for me with Boris?’
‘I’d be delighted.’
‘How well can you speak Armenian?’
‘Try me.’
That was one of the times when I did not mind doing my parlour tricks. Tanya was a very bright young woman, with a malicious sense of humour. She enjoyed being able to indulge her mockeries in a tongue that nobody understood except herself and her two bosses, who at that moment were well out of earshot. I looked across the room and saw that Marta had been taken in tow by Miko, who was guiding her into the company of Leibig and Cubeddu. The Armenian madonna was quick to notice my momentary distraction.
‘You are supposed to be concentrating on me, Mr Langton. Those other two women are old enough to look after themselves.’
‘And you, my dear Tanya, are old enough to have better manners.’
Her manner changed abruptly. ‘I’m sorry. That was very rude. Boris tells me I’m acting like a bitch. He’s right. I’m worried about what’s going on in my home place. Muslim against Christian, all the old tribal hates. My father and mother are dead now, thank God, but two of my brothers are involved. One of them has taken to the hills with the local militia. The other hates his guts, because he’s a Party official with three children. I hope to God what we’re doing here will mean something better for us all.’
The sudden unsought confidence touched me deeply. Because we were still in her language I was, in a special fashion, in her world, with the mists of bloody tribal history trailing about me. I tried to offer some shred of comfort.
‘This is a beginning, girl. One of many beginnings by many people. Sure, they’re all hard-nosed traders; but as far back as you care to go, people used to wait for the coming of caravans, the excitement they brought, the changes that followed their visit. I, too, hope that good will come of all this.’
‘Boris says you are a good man, one to be trusted. He and Lavrenti want to talk to you privately. They ask if you will come to our guest house for a drink after dinner.’
Tell them, yes. It’s my job to be available to everyone. Will you be there, too?’
‘Of course. Everything changes but nothing changes in Moscow. I am not merely the interpreter. I am assigned to make an independent report on all activities here. The only difference is I don’t have to make such a big secret of it. Now we can laugh about such things, even though there’s not much else to laugh about.’
Dinner was announced. I found myself seated with Forster the Swiss and Leino the Finn, while Miko acted as our mistress of ceremonies. The meal was a splendid Japanese feast which Miko herself had planned and supervised. She was dressed in kimono and obi, her collar drawn back to display the curve of her powdered neck, her hair elaborately dressed in geisha style. The perfume she wore was heady and strangely erotic.
Once again, I had to admire the skill with which she courted each one of us, with small attentions, offerings of special morsels, a hand’s touch, a small intimate joke.
Each man felt that she was performing for him alone. Even I, the jealous cynic, had to pay tribute to her skill in the ancient game. She was not only keeping an eye on me. She was also cajoling the two conservatives, Forster and Leino, into believing that somehow the intricate illogicality of the East worked better than the cold reason of the West.
When the meal was almost done, I walked over to Tanaka’s table and presented him with an envelope, suitably inscribed in katakana, which contained ten new thousand-yen notes. I made a mock humble speech, testifying that although the game of golf had been invented by the gaijin, the Yamato people looked like taking that over, too. He had beaten me. I bowed to the victor. I acknowledged the splendid advice he had given me: that the game was not over until the last shot on the last hole; and I asked him only to acknowledge that this gaijin always paid his debts.
It sounds perhaps a silly, low-comedy charade, but in the context of place and time and circumstance, it carried its own message. It was not an apology, it was not an abdication. It was the declaration of a truce and Tanaka’s expression told me that he accepted it. He then announced that he had a speech of his own to make. It would be very brief. He would speak in Japanese. He would hand me the text and then he would ask me to interpret it in the language of each of the guests. It was important, he said, that they should receive it as pure water from an unpolluted spring.
‘We have begun well today. We have each learned some truths about the others. We have agreed to walk a few steps further in each other’s company. Tomorrow will be a day of close encounters, careful questioning, precise but not yet final judgments. My friend, Gil Langton, reproaches me often because I think and live and work within a Japanese system, to which Western interpretations often do not apply. He is right. But I have no choice, just as our visitors from the Soviet Union have no choice. They cannot change seventy years of socialist history. They may abjure it, but they cannot abdicate it, any more than I can get rid of the weight of the past which I carry on my shoulders.
‘Down in Nara city, in a small back street, is an old-fashioned worker in wood who makes boxes for precious things: porcelain, jade and the like. The joints are so beautifully fitted that even the air will not pass between them. He does it all by hand, patiently paring away the thinnest of shavings until one surface slides like silk upon the other. That is what we have to do, tomorrow here, later in Bangkok. The wood is cheap. We can always throw away a spoiled piece. What we cannot waste is the patience and the skill and the goodwill which makes commerce possible.’
It was well said. It translated simply. It was well received. Afterwards, I told him so. At the same time, I told him the Soviet delegation wanted to talk to me and I thought it proper that I should accept their invitation.
‘Of course, Gil.’ He was as bland as butter. ‘That’s your job, to keep communications open, promote understanding. In the morning, by the way, there’ll be a meeting of principals: Leibig, myself, the Soviets. You won’t be needed, but I’d like you to carry a bleeper so I can call you.’
‘Whenever you need.’
‘Enjoy your evening. Miko and I will entertain Marta.’
‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’
‘Appreciate? That means to prize, does it not?’
‘In one of its meanings, yes.’
‘I prize you, Gil. I want you to remember that always. I prize you.’
‘Do you want me to call you before I go to bed? You have a right to know what has been said.’
‘No. Don’t bother. I shall probably fall asleep very early. We’ll talk tomorrow.’
I crossed the room to tell Marta that I would be late. She was in animated talk with Cubeddu and Leibig. She smiled, touched my hand and sent me on my way to the inquisitors.
They were very amiable. Vannikov poured the drinks: a vodka, fragrant with herbs, which had a kick like an angry mule. Lavrenti Ardaziani looked like a happy Buddha. Tanya lay on her stomach on the bed, her face cupped in her hands, watching me with shrewd amusement. Lavrenti began the interrogation.
‘In your opening address, Gil, you said you were being paid “to mediate, interpret, facilitate, clarify”. Do I quote correctly?’
‘You do.’
‘You uttered those words without reservation or qualification.’
‘That’s right.’
‘So the first thing I’d like you to clarify is why Tanaka, who runs one of the largest and most reputable trading groups in Japan, has invited the participation of two people with known criminal associations.’
‘How long have you worked in Japan, Lavrenti?’
‘Four years. Why do you ask?’
‘To save us all some laboured explanations. You know that the Yakuza, the various associations of criminal groups, have a historic place in Japanese history and mythology. Films are made about them every day, as they are about the Mafia. Their links with big business are well known and documented. They also have an unwritten pact with the police. They keep order on the shady side of the street.’
‘We’re all familiar with those connections. Please go on.’
‘In the context of the present negotiations, both Cubeddu and Hoshino represent money, the so-called black money, earned directly or indirectly from criminal activities. Every country has it, even yours, my friends. Fortunately for your government and every other in the world, money doesn’t smell. Even if it’s drug money, sniffer dogs don’t recognise it. That’s why every banker in the world is glad to take it on deposit and use it for legitimate trade. What do they do in Moscow Narodny Bank, Boris? Check every bunch of rouble notes to see if they’re innocent or guilty? So let’s not moralise here. You need money desperately for investment and redevelopment. Some of Tanaka’s has laundry labels on it. You have to decide whether you can accept it.’
‘That still doesn’t answer my question, Gil. Why did Tanaka bring in Cubeddu and Hoshino?’
‘First, because his colleagues in the keiretsu, the small family of big companies, backed away. They say investment in Soviet reconstruction is too big a risk, unless there are big concessions to go with it.’
‘Like the Kuril Islands?’
‘Don’t you understand, they’re just the symbol. This bloody country lives by symbols, by group concepts. Its businessmen work to long-term objectives: market share, access to raw materials. The cession of the Kurils would tell them that the way was open for more important access to more important resources. Tanaka thought he could deliver that, at least in a measurable time. The problem is he doesn’t have time. For his colleagues, he has the smell of death on him. And you’ve said you can’t deliver anyway, because the time isn’t ripe. So what does he do? He goes to one of his biggest depositors, Hoshino, black money, sure, but available now and available in the future. Cubeddu came to him the same way, through his American and South American connections.’
‘And you’ve known all this?’
‘I’ve seen the whole picture only this week. I’ve tried to dissuade Tanaka because I’m his friend and he’s my partner in the publishing enterprise. I failed to change his mind.’
‘But you’re still with him.’
‘I’m also here with you, doing the job as it was agreed, mediating and clarifying. Tanaka knows I’m here. He’ll get an accurate report of our proceedings, just as you’re getting an accurate report from me.’
‘I believe you.’ Coming from Lavrenti that was a compliment. ‘Now, tell me why Hoshino and Cubeddu are prepared to take the risks that Sumitomo or Daikyo will not?’
‘Cubeddu gave you the answer in his speech. It wasn’t in good taste, but he was telling you a certain truth. His money is made by taking risks. He’s prepared to invest it in a risky enterprise, provided the premium is high enough.’
‘And what premium do you think he and Hoshino will want?’
‘Concessions, opportunities, all in the leisure and tourist business, which then turns into the gambling business and the brothel business and the drug business … you name it.’
‘And how does your high-minded Tanaka justify that?’
‘Very simply. He takes the view that if he’s providing mortgage money to build a house, it’s up to the owner to put in his own burglar alarms and take out his own insurance.’
‘And what’s your view on that, Gil?’ It was Boris Vannikov who put the question.
‘It’s you who have to make the judgment, Boris, not I. But I’ll tell you a story instead. Not so long ago, Tanaka approached me on behalf of certain clients who were ready to invest a lot of money in my business if we extended it into comic-book pornography, which is big money in Japan and could be bigger still in the export market. I refused. Tanaka and I have remained friends. We are still in business, although my refusal cost him a lot of money.’
‘Which you are trying to make up to him now.’ The interjection came from Tanya. Boris Vannikov snapped back instantly.
‘Enough! You’re out of order.’
Lavrenti Ardaziani said nothing. He watched me with cool, unblinking eyes. I shrugged and smiled at Tanya.
‘Where did they teach you that trick? It’s too old and shopworn for an intelligent girl like you. One question none of you has thought to ask me is where Carl Leibig stands in all this, where his bankers and backers stand, and all the experts he’s going to be wheeling in to Bangkok.’
‘So tell us, please,’ said Boris Vannikov. ‘We need some guidance here.’
‘First item. Leibig is picking up half my fee. He has equal call with Tanaka on my services. Neither he nor his bankers are happy with the people Tanaka has introduced. Without them, however – or without a radical change in Soviet attitudes – the whole plan breaks down. He and I have discussed this. We have discussed it with Tanaka and made it clear that we consider ourselves free to withdraw, I from my service contract, Leibig from the consortium itself. Tanaka would like to get rid of the black money and have the keiretsu support him. But without a change in Soviet attitudes, that’s most unlikely. So, the choice is yours really.’