jamesclavell.noblehouse-第163部分

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the　same　village　should　stick　together；　heya？　A　handsome　man　like　you　needs　money　…　for　girls　or　his　wife。　Are　you　married；　Honorable　Younger　Brother？〃
　〃No；　Elder　Sister；〃　Wu　said　politely；　leading　her　on　as　he　had　been　told　to　do。
　Armstrong　was　standing　in　the　doorway　of　Ah　Tam's　tiny　bedroom　and　he　wondered　for　the　millionth　time　why　it　was　that　Chinese　treated　their　servants　so　badly；　why　servants　would　work　in　such　miserable　and　foul　conditions；　why　they　would　sleep　and　live　and　give　loyal　service　for　a　lifetime　in　return　for　a　pittance；　little　respect　and　no　love。
　He　remembered　asking　his　teacher。　The　old　policeman　had　said；　〃I　don't　know；　laddie；　but　I　think　it's　because　they　bee　family。　Usually　it's　a　job　for　life。　Usually　their　own　family　bees　part　also。　The　servant　belongs；　and　the　how　chew；　the　good　points　of　the　job　are　many。　It　goes　without　saying　all　servants　cream　off　a　proportion　of　all　housekeeping　money；　all　foods；　all　drinks；　all　cleaning　materials；　all　everything；　however　rich　or　poor；　of　course　with　the　employers'　full　knowledge　and　approval　providing　it's　kept　to　the　customary　level　…　how　else　can　he　pay　them　so　little　if　they　can't　make　extra　on　the　side？〃
　Maybe　that's　the　answer；　Armstrong　thought。　It's　true　that　before　a　Chinese　takes　a　job；　any　job；　he　or　she　will　have　considered　the　how　chew　of　the　job　very　carefully　indeed；　the　value　of　the　how　chew　always　being　the　deciding　factor。
　The　room　stank　and　he　tried　to　close　his　nose　to　the　smell。　Sprays　of　rainwater　were　ing　through　the　vent；　the　sound　of　the　rain　still　pelting　down；　the　whole　wall　mildewed　and　water…stained　from　a　thousand　storms。　He　searched　methodically　and　carefully；　all　his　senses　tuned。　There　was　little　space　to　hide　anything。　The　bed　and　bedding　were　relatively　clean　though　there　were　many　bedbugs　in　the　corners　of　the　bunk。　Nothing　under　the　bed　but　a　chipped　and　stinking　chamber　pot　and　an　empty　suitcase。　A　few　old　bags　and　a　tote　bag　produced　nothing。　The　chest　of　drawers　contained　a　few　clothes；　some　cheap　jewelry；　a　poor　quality　jade　bracelet。　Hidden　under　some　clothes　was　an　embroidered　handbag　of　much　better　quality。　In　it　were　some　old　letters。　A　news　cutting。　And　two　photographs。
　His　heart　seemed　to　stop。
　After　a　moment　he　went　into　the　better　light　of　the　kitchen　and　peered　at　the　photographs　again　but　he　had　not　been　mistaken。　He　read　the　news　cutting；　his　mind　reeling。　There　was　a　date　on　the　cutting　and　a　date　on　one　of　the　photographs。
　
　In　the　honeybed　basement　of　Police　Headquarters；　Ah　Tam　sat　on　a　hard；　backless　chair　in　the　center　of　a　large　soundproofed　room　that　was　brightly　lit　and　painted　white；　white　walls　and　white　ceiling　and　white　floors　and　a　single；　flush　white　door　that　was　almost　part　of　the　wall。　Even　the　chair　was　white。　She　was　alone；　petrified；　and　she　was　talking　freely　now。
　〃Now　what　do　you　know　about　the　barbarian　in　the　background　of　the　photograph？〃　Wu's　flat；　metallic　Ning…tok　voice　asked　from　a　hidden　speaker。
　〃I've　told　and　told　and　there　isn't　。。。　I　don't　know；　Lord；〃　she　whimpered。　〃I　want　to　go　home。　。。。　I've　told　you；　I　barely　saw　the　foreign　devil　。。。　he　only　visited　us　this　once　that　I　know　of；　Lord。　。。。　I　don't　remember；　it　was　years　ago；　oh　can　I　go　now　I've　told　you　everything；　everything。　。。。〃
　Armstrong　was　watching　her　through　the　one…sided　mirror　in　the　darkened　observation　room；　Wu　beside　him。　Both　men　were　set…faced　and　ill…at…ease。　Sweat　beaded　Wu's　forehead　even　though　the　room　was　pleasantly　air　conditioned。　A　tape　recorder　turned　noiselessly。　There　were　microphones　and　a　bank　of　electronic　equipment　behind　them。
　〃I　think　she's　told　us　everything　we　need；〃　Armstrong　said；　sorry　for　her。
　〃Yes　sir。〃　Wu　kept　his　nervousness　out　of　his　voice。　This　was　the　first　time　that　he　had　ever　been　part　of　an　SI　interrogation。　He　was　frightened　and　excited　and　his　head　ached。
　〃Ask　her　again　where　she　got　the　purse。〃
　Wu　did　as　he　was　ordered。　His　voice　was　calm　and　authoritative。
　〃But　I've　told　you　again　and　again；〃　the　old　woman　whimpered。　〃Please　can　I　g…　〃
　〃Tell　us　again　and　then　you　can　go。〃
　〃All　right　。。。　all　right　。。。　I'll　tell　you　again。　。。。　It　belonged　to　my　Mistress　who　gave　it　to　me　on　her　deathbed；　she　gave　it　to　me；　I　swear　it　and…　〃
　〃The　last　time　you　said　it　was　given　to　you　the　day　before　she　died。　Now　which　is　the　truth？〃
　Anxiously　Ah　Tam　plucked　at　her　ratty　queue。　〃I　。。。　I　don't　remember；　Lord。　It　was　on　her　。。。　it　was　when　she　died　。。。　I　don't　remember。〃　The　old　woman's　mouth　worked　and　no　sound　came　out　and　then　said　in　a　querulous　rush；　〃I　took　it　and　hid　it　after　she　died　and　there　were　those　old　photos　。。。　I've　no　picture　of　my　Mistress　so　I　took　them　too　and　there　was　one　tael　of　silver　too　and　this　paid　for　part　of　my　journey　to　Hong　Kong　during　the　famine。　I　took　it　because　none　of　her　rotten　sons　or　daughters　or　family　who　hated　her　and　hated　me　would　give　me　anything　so　I　took　it　when　no　one　was　。。。　she　gave　it　to　me　before　she　died　and　I　just　hid　it　it's　mine；　she　gave　it　to　me。　。。。〃
　They　listened　while　the　old　woman　went　on　and　on　and　they　let　her　talk　herself　out。　The　wall　clock　read　1：45。　They　had　been　questioning　her　for　half　an　hour。　〃That's　enough　for　now；　Wu。　We'll　repeat　it　in　three　hours　just　for　safety　but　I　think　she's　told　us　everything。〃　Wearily　Armstrong　picked　up　a　phone；　dialed。　〃Armstrong　…　you　can　take　her　back　to　her　cell　now；〃　he　said　into　the　phone。　〃Make　sure　she's　fortable　and　well　looked　after　and　have　the　doctor　reexamine　her。〃　It　was　normal　SI　procedure　to　give　prisoners　an　examination　before　and　after　each　interrogation。　The　doctor　had　said　that　Ah　Tam　had　the　heart　and　the　blood　pressure　of　a　twenty…year…old。
　In　a　moment　they　saw　the　white；　almost　hidden　door　open。　A　uniformed　SI　policewoman　beckoned　Ah　Tam　kindly。　Ah　Tam　hobbled　out。　Armstrong　dipped　the　lights；　switched　the　tape　recorder　to　rewind。　Wu　mopped　his　brow。　〃You　did　very　well；　Wu。　You　learn　quickly。〃
　〃Thank　you；　sir。〃
　The　high…pitched　whine　of　the　tape　recorder　grew。　Armstrong　watched　it　silently；　still　in　shock。　The　sound　ceased　and　the　big　man　took　the　reel　out　of　the　machine。　〃We　always　mark　the　date；　exact　time　and　exact　duration　of　the　interrogation　and　use　a　code　name　for　the　suspect。　For　safety　and　secrecy。〃　He　looked　up　a　number　in　a　book；　marked　the　tape；　then　began　to　make　out　a　form。　〃We　cross…check　with　this　form。　We　sign　it　as　interrogators　and　put　Ah　Tam's　code　down　here　…　V…11…3。　This's　top　secret　and　filed　in　the　safe。〃　His　eyes　became　very　hard。　Wu　almost　quailed。　〃I　repeat：　You'd　better　believe　that　a　closed　mouth　catches　no　flies　and　that　everything　in　SI；　everything　that　you　have　been　party　to　today　is　top　secret。〃
　〃Yes　sir。　Yes；　you　can　count　on　me；　sir。〃
　〃You'd　better　also　remember　that　SI's　a　law　unto　itself；　the　governor　and　the　minister　in　London。　Only。　Good　old　English　law　and　fair　play　and　normal　police　codes　do　not　apply　to　SB　or　SI　…　habeas　corpus；　open　trials　and　appeal。　In　an　SI　case　there's　no　trial；　no　appeal　and　it's　a　deportation　order　to　the　PRC　or　Taiwan；　whichever's　worse。　Understand？〃
　〃Yes　sir。　I　want　to　be　part　of　SI；　sir；　so　you　can　believe　me。　I'm　not　one　to　slake　my　thirst　on　poison；〃　Wu　assured　him；　sick　with　hope。
　〃Good。　For　the　next　few　days　you're　confined　to　this　HQ。〃
　Wu's　mouth　dropped　open。　〃But　sir；　my　。。。　yes　sir。〃
　Armstrong　led　the　way　out　and　locked　the　door　after　him。　He　gave　the　key　and　the　form　to　an　SI　agent　who　was　on　guard　at　the　main　desk。　〃I'll　keep　the　reel　for　the　moment。　I've　signed　the　receipt。〃
　〃Yes　sir。〃
　〃You'll　take　care　of　Constable　Wu？　He's　our　guest　for　a　couple　of　days。　Start　getting　his　particulars　…　he's　been　very　very　very　helpful。　I'm　remending　him　for　SI。〃
　〃Yes　sir。〃
　He　left　them　and　went　to　the　elevator　and　got　out　on　his　floor；　a　sick…sweet…sour　taste　of　apprehension　in　his　mouth。　SI　interrogations　were　anathema　to　him。　He　hated　them　though　they　were　fast；　efficient　and　always　obtained　results。　He　preferred　to　have　an　old…fashioned　battle　of　wits；　to　use　patience　and　not　these　new；　modern　psychological　tools。　〃It's　all　bloody　dangerous　if　you　ask　me；〃　he　muttered；　walking　along　his　corridor；　the　faint　musty　smell　of　headquarters　in　his　nostrils；　hating　Crosse　and　SI　and　everything　it　stood　for；　hating　the　knowledge　he　had　unearthed。　His　door　was　open。　〃Oh　hi；　Brian；〃　he　said；　closing　it；　his　face　grim。　Brian　Kwok　had　his　feet　up　on　the　desk　and　was　idly　reading　one　of　the　munist　Chinese　morning　papers；　the　windows　rain…streaked　behind　him。　〃What's　new？〃
　〃There's　quite　a　big　piece　on　Iran；〃　his　friend　said；　engrossed　in　what　he　was　reading。　〃It　says　'capitalist　CIA　overlords　in　conjunction　with　the　tyrant　Shah　have　put　down　a　people's　revolutionary　war　in　Azerbaijan；　thousands　have　been　killed'　and　so　on。　I　don't　believe　all　that　but　it　looks　as　though　the　CIA　and　the　Ninety…second　Airborne　have　defused　that　area　and　the　Yanks　have　done　right　for　once。〃
　〃Lot　of　bloody　good　that'll　do！〃
　Brian　Kwok　looked　up。　His　smile　faded。　〃What's　up？〃
　〃I　feel　rotten。〃　Armstrong　hesitated。　〃I　sent　for　a　couple　of　beers；　then　we'll　have　lunch。　How　about　a　curry？　All　right？〃
　〃Fine；　but　if　you're　feeling　r