Raging Sea, Searing Sky

by Christopher Nicole

  That she had been willing to go to bed with him had been another cachet; Japanese women did not sleep with men who were not their husbands unless they were geisha or common prostitutes. He was of course aware that a different mores obtained in the Western world, but yet he had been at first suspicious of her, and approached the business with great caution. Gradually they had got over the mutual initial shyness, and she had discovered that Japanese lovemaking had an art of its own which the average Western man, someone like Danny for example, obviously did not suspect to exist, and which even Lew had only an inkling of, although he had clearly sampled it during his stay in Japan. Tadatune’s lovemaking, following her horrifying experience in the mission of Wu-Yang, had been totally reassuring. Thus she had settled into her role as his mistress almost comfortably, while obtaining various snippets of information to be relayed to her contact at the United States Embassy.

  It had never crossed her mind that her contact would eventually be Lewis McGann, and even more, that he would have been reconciled with his wife. Yet what had she expected? She had herself rejected his offer to marry her, indeed, his desire to marry her, because she had been afraid to devote herself to any one man, even Lewis McGann. She had been afraid of everything intimate, since Marshal Chang’s torturers, who had known her secrets as a white woman. Tadatune sought only those secrets which could be used in a Japanese way, and was safer.

  But Lew...to work with him again, and for a common purpose, had been heavenly. Now he wanted her to go, and she knew why. It had vaguely surprised her that she had survived so long. But at least she had come up with all the answers, and if she would herself take her discovery back to Washington in person, she still wanted Lew to know.

  She showered, put on her kimono, sat to wait until four minutes past six. Her last telephone call, she thought.

  *

  May got back from the hospital at a quarter to six. There had been nothing she could do there to help Lew, as the doctor had told her. He was already in the operating theatre, and the staff felt quite confident that they had caught it in time, but he was going to be under anaesthetic for some hours; it was only necessary to call back that evening at eight.

  She poured herself a drink, and took it into Lew’s office. She had seldom ever come in here; she knew Lew’s work was largely secret and she had no wish either to interrupt him or to pry. But actually to sit at his desk made her feel closer to him. She was surprised at how frightened she had been. Lew, huge and powerful, had never seemed anything less than indestructible. To think that he could be brought down by something as insignificant as an appendix, while she...she poured herself another drink. She had not even had her children in hospital. Only her abortion — and that had hardly been a hospital. She could remember it as if it had been yesterday, just as she could remember the Lusitania as if it had been yesterday. She had always used them as props on which to hang her emotions, while always knowing they had been lies. How does a fifteen year old girl get to need an abortion, if she is not a nymphomaniac?

  There was no such thing, medical doctors said. Psychiatrists thought differently. So maybe it was a state of mind. Men turned her on. But then, women turned her on. Her own body turned her on. It was as if all her senses were concentrated on the outside of her flesh, which once touched, or in close contact with other bodies, became seethingly alive. She had had her first orgasm with the boy who had fathered that first baby, and she had been a virgin. The psychiatrist to whom she had confessed that had not believed her, and when she had made him believe her, had told her she had to be unique. By then, seeking the glorious relief of at least a daily orgasm had become as important as food or drink.

  Yet Lew had always been the great joy of her life, from the moment she had met him. When she thought how foolishly she had thrown him aside on discovering he was younger than she — she had wept bitterly when she had returned to the Park Lane hotel that day...but, miraculously, they had got back together, and she had been the happiest woman in the world. Except when he wasn’t there, which was all too often. She had drunk to deaden her senses, and it had worked, for a while. Until that horrible night in Washington. Then there had been nothing but horrors, culminating in the day Aunt Clara had walked in on her at the farm and found her masturbating with one hand while she held baby Wally to her breast with the other. Aunt Clara, who had almost certainly never had an orgasm in her life, had not said a word. But from that moment neither woman had doubted that May had to leave, just as soon as was possible.

  Then she had abandoned all attempt at restraint, telling herself only that Lew must never know. He would never have known, had he not bull-headedly forced her to leave New York and go to the confines of Honolulu. In New York she had set up a stable of utterly reliable boys, with whom there was no chance of Lew ever coming into contact. Oahu was just too small. She could not risk affairs with Lew’s brother officers, or indeed with any member of that tight little community. She had had to look lower, and nearer home. And even then, Lew should never have found out, had he not returned home so unexpectedly.

  Yet miracles had still happened, and he had taken her back. Because she had changed, but he had no proof of that beyond her word. It was, she knew, that her fires had begun to cool. She could still be wildly aroused, but now she wanted only to be aroused by Lew. And she had only a part of him. A very small part. She could not fight this — it was no more than she deserved. But that he had a mistress, here in Tokyo, she was certain. It was more than the occasional late nights at the office, the moments when his mind was obviously far away — and not concerned with work, either. It was her instincts. At parties she often studied the women she was with, wondering which of them it was, preferring not to know, taking refuge in the fact that it was almost certainly a Japanese, as they were in Tokyo, and Japanese women were clearly so adorable.

  And Japanese men? She had been tempted to find out, but they did not attract her. She liked men to be at least as tall as herself. As tall as Lew.

  She looked at her watch. Three minutes past six. He would be under the knife, at this very minute. Oh, Lewis, she thought. Survive, Lewis, and be as strong as you always were in the past. Oh, Lewis.

  The telephone jangled. May regarded it for several seconds, heart pounding. This was not a phone she had ever answered, but she was aware that it only rang at certain times, and always when Lew was sitting at his desk. As, in normal circumstances, he should have been now. So, should she let it ring? It was either from the Embassy, or...her tongue came out and circled her lips. She was entitled to know.

  She picked up the phone.

  ‘I’m back,’ the woman’s voice said.

  May inhaled; it was most certainly not a Japanese woman.

  ‘And still in one piece, Lew,’ the voice continued. ‘But listen, I need to see you, right away. Lew?’ she asked, as May had still not spoken.

  ‘This is May McGann,’ May said.

  There was a moment’s silence. Then Brenda said, ‘Oh, my God.’

  ‘I’m afraid Lewis has had to be rushed to hospital for an operation. He won’t be about for at least a week. Can I give him a message?’

  Another silence. Then Brenda said, ‘I don’t think you can.’

  ‘You asked him to come and see you. Won’t I do instead?’

  ‘You?’

  ‘I think perhaps we should meet. Don’t worry, I won’t make a scene, Miss...or is it Mrs?’

  The woman was silent, obviously considering. Then she said, ‘The address is 1500 Nihonbashi. I have an apartment on the fourth floor above the Hanson and Iliffe offices. The name is Lloyd.’

  For a moment May did not place it, then her cheeks suddenly became very hot. ‘When should I come?’

  May listened to the woman inhaling. ‘Tonight, as soon as it is dark. Is...is Lewis...Captain McGann, going to be all right?’

  ‘I hope so. Do you hope so, Mrs Lloyd.’

  ‘My God, yes,’ Brenda said, and hung up.

  *

  M
ay sat still for several seconds after she had replaced the phone. Brenda Lloyd. Not Japanese. Not a contact from the Embassy. But the woman he had rescued from up the Yangste, defying orders and half China — according to the papers — to do it. Here, in Tokyo, five years later. And there must have been many years before, to have caused him to act like that in China. The woman perhaps he should truly have married.

  She wanted to laugh, but it would have been a bitter sound.

  She bathed and dressed with great care, putting on her favourite pale blue georgette cocktail dress, with its dark blue sash. As the November nights were already growing cool, she added a fox fur wrap, but tied her golden hair up in a scarf to discourage identification by anyone she might meet. By then she had telephoned the hospital and been told that the operation was a success, that Lew was very weak and still unconscious, but that she would be able to see him tomorrow morning.

  She was not sure she wanted to do that, or would, after tonight; much depended on this woman Brenda Lloyd. On what she looked like. But if she did not have Lew, then she had nothing. She knew that now.

  She took her car from the garage and drove slowly along the still crowded, brilliantly lit Ginza, where the window shoppers clustered, and indeed some of the shops were still open. Nihonbashi was actually an extension of Ginza, but here the shops dwindled into office blocks and apartment buildings. May found the Hanson and Lisle building easily enough, but had to park the car some distance away. She walked back, entered the lobby, and pressed the bell.

  ‘Use the elevator, Mrs McGann,’ Brenda said.

  May rode up in the car. She actually had no idea what to expect, of herself, or the other woman. She had no concept of an old fashioned confrontation. When she had said on the phone that she would like to meet her, she had been telling the simple truth. But for what reason?

  She reached the fourth floor. As she left the elevator, it was called to the fifth. She waited, listened to it stop, and then watched it descending again, containing a rather agitated looking Japanese man. He showed no interest in her, so she rang the bell. Brenda opened the door, and the two women gazed at each other. May frowned. ‘I know you,’ she said.

  ‘We met at the German Embassy, in April. But we weren’t introduced. You have a very good memory.’ Brenda stepped back. ‘Won’t you come in.’

  ‘It was at that dance in Washington,’ May said, suddenly remembering why the tall dark woman she had seen across the room had looked familiar. She had not thought about it again since then. She stepped into the apartment, looked around her. Determined to be the dominant one, she draped her wrap and scarf on a chair and walked across the room to the big window looking out at the city.

  ‘When you weren’t feeling very well,’ Brenda said, and closed the door.

  ‘You remember that, do you?’ May didn’t turn her head.

  ‘Very clearly. I helped carry you home and put you to bed.’

  Now May did turn. ‘You did what?’

  ‘You mean Lew never told you?’

  May gazed at her, nostrils dilated. ‘So it started then. That night. Good God.’

  ‘No, Mrs McGann,’ Brenda said. ‘It started a long time before that. Lew and I were engaged to be married. But when he found out that you had borne him a child, he broke the engagement to marry you. I think he was right to do that, even if...’

  May sat down. Her legs felt weak. ‘Even if I let him down a million times,’ she muttered.

  ‘Would you like a drink?’ Brenda asked.

  ‘Yes,’ May said.

  Brenda poured them each a bourbon on the rocks.

  ‘Well...’ May sipped. ‘I came here sort of half intending to kick you in the guts, Mrs Lloyd. But it seems I’m the outsider.’

  ‘No,’ Brenda said. ‘Lew really loves you. I think he loves us both.’ She gave a half smile. ‘He’s big enough to be able to do that.’

  ‘Yes,’ May said. ‘And you follow him wherever he’s posted, is that it?’ She was beginning to get angry again.

  ‘No,’ Brenda said. ‘We are sharing a posting, this time.’

  May frowned at her.

  ‘When I asked you to come here tonight, Mrs McGann,’ Brenda said. ‘I was taking a calculated risk. Lew and I are working together in Tokyo, for the United States. That we are known to the Kempai-tai as lovers is a very convenient cover, for meetings like this. Now Lew thinks they are on to me, and wishes me to return to the States. My ship leaves at two o’clock tomorrow morning, and I go on board at midnight. I would like you to know that Lew and I have not slept together since you returned to him.’

  May gazed at her. ‘You expect me to believe that?’

  Brenda shrugged. ‘It happens to be true.’

  ‘Is that why you were desperate for him to come here tonight, just before you leave for America?’

  ‘Please, Mrs McGann, this really isn’t the place or the time for histrionics. I wanted to see him because I think I have completed the assignment he gave me. I believe I have found out where the Japanese mean to launch their surprise attack. Will you tell Lew that, as soon as he is well again?’

  ‘Surprise attack?’

  ‘It is fairly common knowledge that the Japanese are preparing to go to war with the United States, at some time in the not too distant future. We think we know the date. Now I think I have discovered the target. Will you tell Lew that when I was down in Nagasaki, I was lying on the beach, one day, close by the headland south of the port, and I watched Japanese bombers making dummy runs, at the headland. When I asked the person I was with why they were practicing attacking an empty headland, he told me, “it is not the headland that matters, but what lies beyond. It is a matter of recognition.” He would say no more than that, but when I began to think about it, I realised that the headland is remarkably similar to Diamond Head above Waikiki Beach, with Pearl Harbour just five miles further on. Those bombers were practising a bombing approach to Pearl Harbour.’

  May put down her glass. ‘You’re a spy,’ she said.

  Brenda shrugged. ‘I work for Naval Intelligence. So does Lew.’

  ‘But he’s an attaché. Do you know what the Japanese will do to you, if they catch you?’

  Brenda smiled. ‘I dye my hair, if that’s what you mean. But I’ll be at sea in four hours from now.’

  ‘If what you have told me is true, you are a very brave woman,’ May said.

  ‘I do not think I am any braver, or more dedicated, than Lew, Mrs McGann,’ Brenda said.

  They gazed at each other, and there was a knock on the door.

  *

  Their heads turned as if attached to the same string. Brenda had turned quite pale, and May was aware that her own heart was pounding loudly.

  ‘Go into the bedroom,’ Brenda whispered. ‘It may be nothing. But listen, there is a gun in there, in the bedside table drawer. Use it if you have to do. Do not let the Kempai-tai arrest you.’

  May hesitated, then picked up her glass, wrap and scarf and went into the bedroom. Brenda closed the door on her. May leaned against it, suddenly covered in a rash of sweat. Yet she was curiously unafraid. Only excited. This was better than sex. Why had she never discovered it before?

  She listened to the outer door being opened. ‘Mrs Lloyd?’ asked a voice, speaking English, but definitely Japanese.

  ‘I am she.’

  ‘You will let us in, please.’

  May listened to the door closing, softly. Brenda had obviously obeyed, whoever it was.

  ‘I am Lieutenant Toto, Kempai-tai, Mrs Lloyd. Do you know what that is?’

  There was a brief silence before Brenda replied, in a low voice, ‘Yes.’

  ‘There are some questions I must ask you, Mrs Lloyd,’ Lieutenant Toto said.

  Brenda clearly waited.

  ‘You have just returned from a holiday in Nagasaki with Mr Tadatune Mori. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes,’ Brenda said.

  ‘It is our understanding that Mr Mori asked you to marry him, and t
hat you agreed to his proposal. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes,’ Brenda said. ‘Is a marriage between a Japanese and an American the business of the Japanese secret police?’

  ‘In this case,’ Toto said. ‘When the prospective bride has booked a passage on a ship bound for Los Angeles for the very night she returns to Tokyo from her idyll in the south.’

  May could hear the sharp intake of Brenda’s breath.

  ‘I...it was agreed, between Mr Mori and myself. There are business matters I must settle in America. We will be married when I return.’

  ‘Mrs Lloyd, Mr Mori knows nothing of your intended departure, and is, extremely upset by it.’

  ‘You have arrested Mr Mori?’

  ‘It has not been necessary. We went to call on him this afternoon. We have had you under surveillance for some time. We know of your contacts with Captain McGann of the United States Embassy. For long we thought they were innocent, at least in a political sense. But recently our suspicions have been growing. When Mr Mori learned that you intended to abandon him, he became very agitated, and he told us how you have for some time been asking him questions about the Navy, and its plans. And how he foolishly answered you. Now, Mrs Lloyd, I have a warrant here for your arrest on a charge of spying. However, it may be possible for me to permit you to leave on your boat tonight, if you will provide me with sufficient proof of Captain McGann’s involvement in spying against the Empire of Japan, and also tell me exactly what information you have been able to give him. I also require a list of all other American agents in Japan, and your methods of contacting them.’