jamesclavell.noblehouse-第163节
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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