The Private Papers of Eastern Jewel

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The Private Papers of Eastern Jewel Page 19

by Maureen Lindley


  Tanaka said that however innocuous a piece of information seemed it could be important and lead to bigger things. He kept a dossier of who was unfaithful to whom, who took drugs, who gambled beyond their means. He put people in his debt by paying their accounts or getting them the best girls or indeed the best doctors when an abortion or medication was needed. It seemed that everyone owed him a favour or prayed for his silence. He told me that it was a dangerous position to be in as no one enjoyed having their secrets held at the discretion of others, or being in their debt, but it made him a good spy and he enjoyed living dangerously.

  It was 1931, I was in my mid-twenties and enjoying my life in Shanghai. I had a lover, a salary and a fascinating new profession. Things were going well when out of the blue one day, Tanaka's superior in the north, Colonel Doihara, made a request for me to report to him in Tientsin in three days' time. He said he had an assignment for me that I was uniquely qualified for, one where I could, if successful, further Japan's push into the north-east of China. I should be prepared to stay in Tientsin for as long as the task took and I would, he said, need clothes for mixing in the highest society.

  Tientsin was the birthplace of the Chinese Empress Wan Jung. I had heard that it was an interesting city and I was keen to go. The Emperor Pu Yi, in exile from the Forbidden City, had set up home there. He lived with his wife under the control of the Japanese, in somewhat more reduced circumstances than he was used to. It didn't take much to guess that Doihara's reference to 'the highest society' meant Pu Yi and his wife Wan Jung, 'She of the Beautiful Countenance'.

  Tanaka hated Doihara, who was always questioning the huge expenses claimed by the Shanghai office. He didn't want me to go, but he couldn't refuse his superior's orders and reluctantly made the arrangements for my journey to the north. He was very agitated and said that he knew that Doihara would attempt to seduce me and that he could not bear the thought. I promised him that I would not lie with Doihara, but he wasn't satisfied and made me swear on our friendship that I would not take the Colonel as my lover.

  However, I was delighted to be recognised by Doihara as one of his agents and to be given a job of my own which did not involve Tanaka. It was a step towards Japan accepting me as its own. I packed carefully, choosing mostly western clothes, as well as an oriental outfit with which, despite my oath on our friendship to Tanaka, I planned to seduce Doihara.

  Sour Cherries and Acacia Honey

  I flew to Tientsin, taking my turn at the controls with a young Japanese pilot I had first met when taking flying lessons. He was an occasional lover of mine, a man of wit and arrogance whose company I enjoyed since he wanted nothing more than sex from me and was prepared to do me favours in return. It was cold in the cockpit and we kept warm with regular shots from a thermos of hot tea laced with sake. After a smooth flight we landed in the city of Tientsin on the day before the Colonel was expecting me. Tanaka had taught me that the element of surprise puts you at an advantage and I had a plan that I thought would not only intrigue Doihara, but also display my skills at disguise and deception.

  The hotel where Tanaka had arranged lodgings for me was only a short car ride from Doihara's headquarters. It was a sturdy four­storeyed building, built out of the ruins of an old merchant house with pretensions to western grandeur. There was a dignified­looking doorman, uniformed Chinese staff, Indian carpets and rather dismal lighting. On the same road the Country Club, a grand establishment managed by the English, equalled the Shanghai Club both in style and luxury. Of course, Chinese were forbidden entrance, but I heard that an exception was made for Pu Yi and his wife because of who they were. While enjoying the club's hospitality, the great Emperor was treated with a qualified respect that bordered on insolence, which even the lowliest of the English were skilled at showing their Chinese superiors.

  Tientsin was a smart city, with good restaurants, markets and theatres and a branch of Laidlaw and Company that was almost as well stocked as its Shanghai parent. The quality emporium was a favourite of Pu Yi's and was responsible for his ridiculous western outfits that included tweed jackets and plus fours, as well as the short coats that were split at the back into two tails that the Emperor wore with striped trousers and silk ties. There were department stores on Victoria Road and even a racecourse, but the city did not have Shanghai's intoxicating air, nor the power to instil into its inhabitants the feeling that they lived at the centre of the world. It did though have an international community with foreign industries and foreign troops too. The Peking Opera played there and the city boasted a modern cinema, as well as the usual opium dens and brothels.

  I was excited about the adventure ahead in Tientsin, but I reminded myself of the last conversation I had with Tanaka before leaving Shanghai. Generous as ever, he had given me money and advised me not to trust Doihara with confidences that he might later use against me.

  'I should send a chaperone with you, Yoshiko. I wouldn't trust the Colonel with any woman, let alone one as beautiful as you.'

  I knew his jealousy had more to do with Doihara's superior rank than with possession of me. But I would take his advice and be careful not to give away too much to the Colonel.

  I was very fussy about the room I chose at the hotel and made them show me three before I settled on the one with the biggest bed and the softest rugs. It had a surprisingly well-appointed bathroom with huge brass taps and a wooden tub that was half a foot thick. The main reception rooms although poorly lit had electric lamps, but the bedrooms and halls, not yet electrified, were somewhat gloomy. There were oil lamps on the bedside tables and candles in the bathroom as well as a large hurricane lamp standing on a chest at the foot of the bed. The chest was carved with dragonflies so lifelike that you could almost hear the drum of their wings as they hovered over equally realistic flag lilies. I opened the lid and the fragrant scent of eucalyptus overtook me. It reminded me of Shimako, for she had used it in her linen chests and often carried the perfume of her bedcovers in her hair. I prayed that I would not dream of Shimako that night, for dreams of her always ate into my happiness. With Shimako's habit in mind, I scented the sheets with my own choice of chrysanthemum oil and stroked some into the nape of my neck and at the pulse of my wrists. I sent a servant boy to buy me sour cherries and acacia honey and some beeswax candles to soften the blue light of the oil lamps. I had brought champagne and sake with me, and some of the black Russian cigarettes so perfect to smoke at night.

  After I had slept for an hour, I bathed and dressed myself in the full-length robe of a Chinese gentleman of middle rank. Its long sleeves covered my obviously female hands, while it was buttoned so high as to disguise my slim neck. I tucked my hair into a silk skullcap and except for an obi sash that bound my breasts flat, I went naked under the loose-fitting coat.

  The doorman of the hotel looked at me inquisitively as I entered the car ordered in the name of the Princess Eastern Jewel of the Su family, the title Doihara had said I should go under in Tientsin. Without a moon the sky was as dark as kohl. No stars lit our way, but the car's pale headlights beamed two bars of light along the straight road.

  Tanaka had told me that Colonel Doihara was extremely ambitious and usually worked late into the night at the headquarters of Tientsin's Special Service Organ. He was tireless in his pursuit of success, and because of his contacts in Manchuria he was known by western journalists as 'Lawrence of Manchuria'. What he hadn't told me was that Doihara, if not exactly handsome, was a powerful-looking man, high born and trusted by the Emperor Hirohito himself. I expect Tanaka hadn't wanted to present his superior as too impressive, knowing that such vigour and influence would be attractive to me. Doihara had a reputation not only as a womaniser, but also as that of a man who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. I knew I would soon be breaking my promise to Tanaka, but with luck he would never know, and promises are merely conveniences to ease the path of life. I have never extracted a promise from anyone and I give them no value in relationships or negotiations.

>   To heighten the sense of mystery and excitement that I wanted to conjure for the Colonel, I arrived at his headquarters exactly at the stroke of midnight. With the lowest voice I could muster, I told the desk officer that I had to see Doihara and that my purpose was so secret that I could only reveal my business to him personally. I was searched by a young guard who ran his hands interestedly over my coat, from my neck to my feet, before looking at my face in what appeared to be embarrassment. He told me to stay where I was and he would see if an interview would be granted.

  Five minutes later I was ushered into the Colonel's office, where he sat behind a huge desk, writing on a document with an expensive-looking gold pen. He was a well-built man, clean-shaven, with a broad face, a wide nose and sombre eyes. I guessed him to be in his late forties. He didn't look up at my entrance, but ostentatiously took a revolver from the desk drawer and placed it by his right hand and continued writing. Perhaps he thought that I had come to assassinate him with my bare hands or maybe he just wanted to intimidate me.

  After a long silence he glanced up briefly and asked my name, fingering the revolver as he spoke. He addressed me in an elegant form of Chinese with no trace of a Japanese accent. I answered him in the same language, lowering my voice to what I thought was a masculine pitch.

  'You need not know my name,' I said, 'only that I have come to be of use to you.'

  He leant towards me, squinting as though to see me better.

  'Your voice is that of a eunuch,' he said contemptuously. 'Are you from Pu Yi's household?'

  'I am of his blood, but not his household,' I replied.

  The Colonel leant back in his chair and let his eyes sweep me from head to toe. And then, very slowly, he stood up, fastened the top button of his jacket, replaced the cap on his pen and returned the revolver to the drawer.

  'Well then, I think I know who you may be,' he said, rising from his chair and taking his sword from where it leant against the desk. 'But just to be sure, I need to see beneath your disguise.'

  He came towards me, extending the sword, still holding my eyes with his. Without a change of expression he suddenly made one long graceful movement and sliced through the silk fastenings of my coat. I remained completely still as he gave a satisfied grunt, and with a small lunge split the silk obi sash that bound my breasts. As it fell to the floor I removed the skullcap and Colonel Doihara burst out laughing.

  'You're a brave girl,' he said. 'One slip and I could have scarred you for life.'

  'You have a steady hand, Colonel. I can see you are a man to trust,' I replied.

  'Flattery is not something I have ever been susceptible to, Princess,' he said pompously. 'A beautiful woman though is something no real man can resist.'

  Since the day that I lost Yamaga, I have never fallen prey to flattery myself. It can cloud the mind. Doihara was a man who would be difficult to manipulate, not because he thought himself immune to a woman's wiles, but more because he had a cunning, mistrusting nature. I knew that he had the power to promote me and to make my position in Shanghai absolutely secure. I would need to impress Doihara in every department if my star in the secret service was to rise. I suspected that his womanising was a way of feeding his vanity rather than a susceptibility to female charm, and that I would have to fatten that vanity with the sighs and moans of a whore in his bed.

  He willingly agreed to my suggestion that we go to my hotel and further our acquaintance, although he took a rankling amount of time to tidy away his sword and call for his car. He said that it was rare in life to meet a true adventuress and that he would like to get to know me better, but his manner was cool and arrogant and I was beginning to dislike the Colonel.

  I was sorry that I would not be able to share the seduction of Doihara with Tanaka. Discussing our conquests was a pastime we both enjoyed, but I knew that although I could manage his occasional jealousies, where it concerned his hated superior it would only highlight his deep belief that, as a commoner, he himself had no place in the bed of a princess. I missed Tanaka's camaraderie. It would have been fun to discuss my seduction of Doihara with him, but by extracting a promise of fidelity from me he had put such a subject out of bounds. From this distance I could bring myself to feel critical of him. In his company, his personality was such that no other man shone quite as brightly. He might have to play Captain to Doihara's Colonel but he was, I thought, the man's superior. Tanaka would always be a huge influence in my life, but it felt good to be the author of my own adventures once agam.

  As we sat a little apart in the dark interior of the Colonel's car, he shut his eyes and did not speak to me. There was that tension between us that comes before first-time sex, when you have yet to touch, yet to discover how things will be between you. In those enthralling moments the throat dries, the heartbeat increases and everything appears to be in slow motion. It is as if time actually stops. It is to experience that feeling again and again that I take so many lovers, for in its distraction I am as far from death as I can be without opium.

  It took only minutes to reach my hotel in the car, which was driven by a young soldier who treated the Colonel with great respect, almost scraping the pavement with a bow as Doihara ordered him to wait and to keep his wits about him. The Colonel seemed nervous in the outside world. He had left his headquarters with a gun in his pocket and had pulled down the blinds in the car the moment he entered it.

  'Perhaps it is a good idea you are in disguise, Yoshiko,' he whispered as we entered the hotel. 'Now that we are invading Manchuria, no Japanese can feel safe where Chinese roam at will.'

  He followed me in silence to my room and watched as I lit the candles, pouring us each a glass of champagne. He didn't drink his, saying he thought it overrated, a drink only suitable for whores and westerners. Sake was his choice and he accepted my flask in the hope that the quality of the drink lived up to the distinguished receptacle it came in. Ignoring his criticism of the champagne, I drank both glasses quickly and agreed that sake, like all things Japanese, was superior.

  Since Doihara had sliced through the fastenings of my coat, I had tied it at the waist with what remained of the obi sash. In the car the coat had separated, exposing my booted leg, which even though he showed no sign of it, I felt sure must have excited the Colonel. As I stood before him, I undid the knot of the obi and allowed the coat to slip to the floor. The Colonel told me to sit on the bed while he undressed, which he did slowly, folding his shirt carefully and hanging his jacket on the back of a chair. There was something insulting in the way he took his time, sipping his drink and staring at me as though to check for flaws. I started to remove my boots but he barked, 'Leave them.' I smiled and lay back on the bed.

  Despite his reputation as a great womaniser, Doihara was a disappointing lover. He liked to be on top and laboured at it like a workman digging a trench. He was noisy too, grunting and moaning as though exhausted by the effort. He smelled cool like metal, which was not unpleasant, but I cannot say the experience of coupling with him surpassed any other that I had experienced. As he smothered me with his huge chest, covering my face so that it was hard to breathe, I found myself wishing that he had Tanaka's understanding of a woman's body. He seemed unaware that he had a living person under him. I may as well not have existed except as a receptacle for his seed. I would be able to tell him in truth that he was a true samurai, which I knew he would take as a compliment. His lovemaking was entirely selfish, so it was all the more amusing that he thought himself a great lover. I hoped that he was a better spy than he was a lover.

  Doihara's scent was entirely new to me, but there was something about his body that seemed familiar, like someone I remembered from a long-ago dream. As he worked his way to his climax the sudden realisation came to me that it was my father Prince Su to whom Doihara bore a remarkable physical resemblance. It came to me too that what I had felt for my father was desire, a forbidden thing. Lust is often to be found where taboo exists. Yet how could I not have recognised those childhood aches to
be desire? How odd that I should have discovered those forbidden feelings, so many years later, under the heaving body of the Colonel. I could not blame the child I had been for desiring my all-powerful father. He was, after all, the centre of the world I lived in. Only the most beautiful women lay in his bed. His concubines vied for his attention and prospered when they achieved it. As I lay by the Colonel I recognised where my desire for cruel and powerful men had its origins, and knew too that I was powerless to change those patterns bred in the bone so many years ago.

  In homage to the stirred memory of the little bound-footed girl who had serviced my father and whom I had spied upon, I filled a bowl with scented water and carefully washed between Doihara's legs, all the time telling him what a masterful lover he was. He became so excited that we lay together for a second time and unfortunately he laboured at the task longer.

  Doihara was as susceptible to flattery as any man despite his protestations, and the longer I spent in his company, the smaller in stature he appeared. Although I respected his office and understood that he had the power to influence my position I could not admire him. Yet, for entirely venal and ambitious reasons, I still wanted to impress him.

  When we woke some hours later we ate the sour cherries and the honey, a sweet and sour combination of tastes I have always enjoyed after lovemaking. The Colonel washed his mouth out with the flat remains of the champagne, saying that was all it was good for. He told me that I was truly the horizontal delicacy my reputation had claimed but that he didn't like my short hair.

  'A woman should have long hair, Yoshiko,' he said. 'It is the rope a man pulls her to him with.'

  The room had chilled as we slept, the candles burnt to stubs, and the lamps still leaking their blue light shone dimly. Outside, the starless sky was coal dark and strangely disarming. I had dreamt of Jon, weeping as he lay in his wife's lap, while she, as ever, smiled her vacant smile.

 

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