Rising Sun, Falling Shadow Part 38

No one stopped them as they hurried arm in arm toward the Old City. After entering through its north gate, they walked up and down every twisting street and lane within its walls. They pa.s.sed certain shops and temples three or more times, but Jia-Li did not want to stop. Her eyes were clear and her expression rigid as she scanned the streets. She must have already realized that her husband of only one day would never appear to meet them, but Sunny did not have the heart to share his final words with Jia-Li yet. So instead, Sunny silently remained at her friend's side while she searched in vain for Charlie.

When they reached the main square for a second time, Jia-Li veered off toward the Woo Sing Ding tea house and slumped down onto a bench. As Sunny joined her, she realized this was the place she had last met with Wen-Cheng and the old man. The uncomfortable memory of their terse exchange darkened her thoughts further.

It's all my fault! Had Sunny found a way inside Colonel Kubota's office, Wen-Cheng would never have felt the need to betray the old man, Max and, ultimately, Charlie. Her face flushed with guilt and she avoided eye contact with her friend. I am the link to all their deaths.

Jia-Li stared at the tea house for a few minutes. Finally, in a low, angry tone, she said, "He promised."

"Oh, bao bei, Charlie would move heaven and earth to be here." Sunny's voice cracked. "Perhaps he is still trying."

"He will never keep his promise."

Sunny reached out and gripped Jia-Li's limp hand. "He would have said anything, bao bei. Anything to make you leave. He loves you that much."

"He is my husband," she said, unmoved. "I should never have left. And he should never have sent me away."

Sunny squeezed Jia-Li's hand even tighter. "For love, bao bei. Charlie only did it out of love."

Jia-Li slipped her hand free. Her eyes were red and her cheeks flushed now. "I would have wheeled that pram full of dynamite into the train station, xio he. Even if it meant I would never come back out."

"I have no doubt, bao bei."

"Not for Free China. Or the Underground. Or the stupid Communists." Jia-Li's voice trembled. "Only for Chun. Always for him."

"I know."

Jia-Li buried her face in her hands. Soon her shoulders shook. "My home is gone," she choked out between sobs. "So is my husband."

Sunny struggled to find rea.s.suring words but could think of none. She couldn't look her friend in the eye. She felt responsible for incinerating Jia-Li's happiness.

"Where do I go now, xio he?" Jia-Li murmured.

Sunny's eyes misted over. "Come home with me, bao bei."

"And get you all killed?" Jia-Li scoffed. "Even the children?"

"You cannot go back to the Cathay Building."

"What is there to return to?"

"The j.a.panese know who you are, bao bei," Sunny said. "They will be looking."

"Perhaps it's best if they find me."

"Stop it," Sunny snapped. "You can't think like that. Imagine what Charlie would say."

Jia-Li only shrugged. "What else would you have me do?"

Sunny sat up straighter. "The Comfort Home."

"Is the first place the j.a.panese will look."

"They have searched there before-many times, right?-and never found the hideaway."

"Why would Chih-Nii take me in as a fugitive? After how I walked out on her."

"You are like family. She has always had a soft spot for you."

Jia-Li gave a bitter laugh. "She had a soft spot for the money I brought in."

Sunny rose from the bench and reached for Jia-Li's arm again. "Come. We will go talk to her."

Jia-Li remained seated. She looked up at Sunny with pained eyes. "Can we give him a few more minutes?"

The minutes turned into more than an hour as they sat together and quietly reminisced about Charlie and his brief presence in their lives. At last, Jia-Li wiped her eyes and rose to her feet. "Let's go," she declared.

As they left the Old City, Jia-Li kept her head still and her eyes straight ahead, her search abandoned.

Arriving at the Comfort Home, they circled the block to ensure no j.a.panese vehicles were in the area before they approached the walkway that led to the elegant old villa. There was something tranquil yet surreal about the snow-covered trees that lined the path.

As they neared the mansion, an enormous man stepped out to greet them. "Ushi!" Sunny rushed up and hugged him, barely able to get her arms all the way around his waist. "It is good to see you."

"h.e.l.lo, Sunny." He patted her on the back.

Ushi and Jia-Li just stared at one another. Eventually, his eyes fell to her left hand and he motioned to the ring. "Is it true? Are you . . . married now?"

Jia-Li nodded.

Ushi gave her an awkward smile. "I am happy for you."

"Oh, Ushi." Jia-Li hurled herself into his arms.

Ushi held her tightly. Somehow he seemed to understand everything. "I am so sorry, bao bei," he whispered.

Jia-Li broke free of the hug. "I have nowhere left to go now, Ushi."

Ushi turned for the door. "Come. We will speak to her."

They found Chih-Nii in her small office, sitting behind her Qing dynasty desk. She was counting the previous night's take, having neatly separated it into various currencies, from American greenbacks to j.a.panese yen. She looked up only after she had finished with a wad of bills.

Chih-Nii wore her usual glamorous cheongsam, but there was something drawn about her overly made-up face. She eyed Jia-Li blankly. "As a rule, I do not send presents to couples who exclude me from the wedding."

"No one else-not even Sunny-was there," Jia-Li said softly.

"And so where is the proud groom?"

"He . . . he could not make it."

Chih-Nii's eyelids creased and her tone turned sharp. "And you have come back here for what, precisely? To gloat?"

Jia-Li folded her arms across her chest and said nothing.

Ushi looked over at Sunny, urging her with his eyes to speak.

"She has nowhere else to go, Chih-Nii," Sunny said.

Chih-Nii's gaze drifted from Sunny to Jia-Li. "Is this true?"

Jia-Li looked down at her feet. "My Charlie . . . he's gone," she murmured.

The bills fluttered to the table as Chih-Nii propelled herself to her feet. She rushed over and wrapped a thick arm around Jia-Li's shoulder. "Tell auntie, little flower. Tell her everything."

CHAPTER 52.

The rain pelted down, turning the streets into a mush of puddles and slush. The city's usual strong smells, trapped under ice and snow for so long, returned with a vengeance. Franz's eyes watered as he pa.s.sed a drainpipe that reeked so strongly he guessed something larger than a rat had to be decomposing inside it.

Across the street, Franz saw the sign for the Cafe Aaronsohn. Even if he could have afforded to eat there, he wasn't partial to its food and wouldn't have chosen it as a lunch destination. Besides, with his stomach flip-flopping and the taste of bile on his tongue, food was the last thing on his mind. Still, the popular cafe met his needs from a strategic perspective.

As Franz stepped through the door, he patted his coat pocket, rea.s.sured by the bulky outline of the envelope. The clock above the counter read two minutes to twelve; he was early. He was relieved to see that, despite the foul weather, the restaurant was more than half full. Claiming a table in a far corner, he ordered an espresso and tried to look casual.

The wait only intensified his anxiousness. He never doubted that von Puttkamer would show, but he hoped the man would be as punctual as a typical Prussian.

Just then, the door chimed and the baron entered with his bodyguard. Von Puttkamer sniffed the air and made a face, as though the mere scent of kosher cooking was objectionable. Without even removing his jacket, he approached Franz's table.

Heads turned and the chatter dropped to a hush: many of the patrons recognized von Puttkamer. But the baron appeared oblivious. He eased into the chair across from Franz while his bodyguard slipped into the corner, his back to the wall as he eyed the other customers blankly.

Von Puttkamer laid his damp homburg on the table and folded his leather gloves inside it. "Not the easiest of journeys in this weather, Dr. Adler. My car got stuck twice. I do hope we are not wasting one another's time."

Nervous as Franz felt, he was in no hurry to get to his point. "In my five winters in Shanghai, I cannot remember seeing so much snow or slush."

"Fascinating," von Puttkamer said. "Is this what you summoned me across the city to discuss? The turn in the weather?"

Forcing lightness into his tone, Franz asked, "Would you like a coffee, Baron?"

"Here?" Von Puttkamer chuckled. "No. No, thank you."

Franz lifted his cup. "As good as back home."

Von Puttkamer tilted his head in surprise. "I am curious, Herr Doktor. Do you really consider Germany your home?"

"Austria."

"Is part of the greater Reich now." Von Puttkamer shrugged. "Still . . ."

"Only in the sense of it being the country where I was born and raised," Franz admitted. "I would certainly never view it as my home now."

"That is convenient, considering that we would never view you as a true German." Von Puttkamer nodded. "Now that we have settled that . . ."

Franz glanced at the clock above the counter. He needed to draw the conversation out for another ten minutes or so. "Have you spent much time in Vienna?"

"As little as possible." Von Puttkamer made a show of checking his pocket watch. "Frankly, I never enjoyed the city much."

"Why not, Baron?"

"Too overwrought," he sighed. "The architecture. The music. The painting. It was all too precious for my taste. And so, so many of your kind." He shook his head. "Berlin. Now there is a wondrous city."

"I have only been there once, but I would have to agree," Franz said. "So many architectural marvels."

"Ja, in comparison, it makes Shanghai look like the colonial outpost it is and always will be."

"Will you be returning again soon?" Franz asked.

"That is hardly any of your business, Herr Doktor." Von Puttkamer pushed his seat back from the table and began to rise. "Clearly, coming here was pointless."

Franz's neck tensed with worry, but he managed to keep his expression neutral and his tone conversational. "We have not yet decided what to do with all your plastic explosives, Baron."

Von Puttkamer dropped back into his chair. He shot Franz a murderous glare but said nothing.

Franz shrugged. "We even wondered if perhaps there might be some demolition work required in Germantown."

"You wouldn't dare," von Puttkamer snarled.

"Probably not, no." Franz shook his head. "Unlike you, we are too civilized to slaughter innocent men, women and children."

Von Puttkamer leaned into the table. "You had no difficulty murdering Hans," he hissed.

"You view him as innocent?" Franz asked in disbelief. "The man who was about to bomb our temple? You and I must have slightly different understandings of the word."

"The world is at war, Adler," von Puttkamer scoffed. "Honour, bravery, duty-those qualities are more important than questions of guilt or innocence under these circ.u.mstances."

"Really, Baron? Is there honour in blowing up a synagogue full of worshippers? Or bravery in collapsing a hospital on top of its patients?"

"If they are filled with enemies of the Reich, then why not?"

Franz wrestled back his emotions. "Because we will not let you," he said softly.

"Next time, no one will inform you beforehand."

Ernst! Franz wondered if his friend was already under suspicion. "No one informed us," he insisted.

Von Puttkamer raised an eyebrow.

"We spotted your men arriving after curfew," Franz bluffed. "Our people are always watching. Day and night."