doneâas though he had been hovering near it all week, waiting for its bell to sound.
"
Wei,
" he said, surprised into his mother tongue, and then, "Yes?"
"There is something I'd like to see you about," Bunt said, hoping to put him on the defensive.
"Thank you for returning my call," Mr. Hung said, neatly sidestepping. "I am so glad you received my message."
"I don't have a great deal of time," Bunt said.
"I have even less," Mr. Hung said. "Let's say the club at six?"
"Cricket Club?"
"Pussy Cat," Mr. Hung said, and put the phone down before Bunt could raise an objection.
Bunt could not say why he felt at a disadvantage meeting Mr. Hung this way. Yet he didâhe felt unprotected. Mr. Hung was at his cheeriest and most reasonable. Perhaps that was it,
the confidence of the man, the fact that he had already insinuated himself into Bunt's lifeâwas on excellent terms with his mother, knew Mei-ping, the mama-san, Baby and Luz, was probably intimate with Monty too. Mr. Hung had in this way taken charge.
They met coincidentally outside the club, near the shrine by the door, a devil goddess gloating in a red box, lighted by two red bulbs. Mr. Hung took no interest, but as always Bunt was mildly alarmed by it. They were shown by the mama-san to a booth in the back. Mr. Hung seemed familiar with the Pussy Cat. He greeted Wendell the barman, who gave him a hearty wave before turning back to the TV set, and that made Bunt uneasy too. No girls came nearâthat had to have been prearranged by Hung.
Mr. Hung said, "Drink?"
"Nothing for me," Bunt said. "I don't want any more presents, so please stop sending them."
Mr. Hung's face was in shadow, but Bunt suspected that the man was smiling grimly when he said, "I asked you to meet me here precisely because there are no more presents for you."
Bunt, who had rehearsed a denunciation of the gift-giving, was caught unprepared and did not know what to say to this.
"Not that they were especially valuable," Bunt said. "The fruit was bruised, and oddly enough we do own a thermos flask or two."
Mr. Hung said, "I think you will wish me to ignore what you have just said," and in his smiling, sneering way he sounded very sinister. But how could he be a threat, this stranger?
"Listen," Bunt said. "We're very happy with our company and premises. We have no intention of selling."
"I know that," Mr. Hung said. "But there are several things you do not know."
The music in the club was rather loud. It stimulated Bunt to the point where he wondered whether it would do any good to shout at Mr. Hung, as the singer was shouting now.
"One is that if you do not sell, you will not be happy next year."
"You know that, do you?"
"Yes. I will be in a position to make you unhappy."
Bunt had been right, Mr. Hung had come here attempting to threaten him, and he trembled with anger at the arrogance of the Chinese intruder.
"I don't have to listen to this, mate."
"But you would be wise to listen."
"Uttering menaces is a crime under English law. I could have a constable over here from Lai Chi Kok, and you'd be in stir."
"I don't think so. After all, we're in a club where you are well known for drunkenness and much more. Would you want that to become known?"
"You're trying to threaten me."
"Not at all," Mr. Hung said. "After the thirtieth of June next year I will be in Hong Kong in an official capacity, which is the acquisition of strategic sites for the People's Liberation Army. Next year it will not be a suggestion but a command, an order which you will obey."
The mocking music played loudly and now there were people dancing, the prostitutes and the
gweilos,
Baby, Luz, the others.
"I'll take my chances," Bunt said.
"The price will be much less. We will provide our own assessment of the value of your site."
"See if I care."
"The sale will be enforced by military decree. The price will be fixed. And we might decide to pay you in renminbi. You will be able to spend it in China but