Killigrew and the Golden Dragon

by Jonathan Lunn

  The Triads each drew their hatchets and circled around until they were standing on either side of the barbarian. Killigrew reached under his coat and drew his cutlass. One of the hatchet men charged with a wild shout. Killigrew dodged him and danced to one side so that he could keep an eye on both of them at once. The second attacked. Killigrew parried the Triad’s hatchet and ducked, turning away, as the first came at him again. Their weapons clashed, and the head was sliced from the haft of the hatchet. As the hatchet man staggered forwards, Killigrew struck him on the back of the head with the hilt of his cutlass. Dazed, the Triad stumbled into the wall of the temple and sank into the mud.

  The second hatchet man struck at Killigrew from behind but the barbarian seemed to sense it coming. He whirled away, the skirts of his greatcoat flying, and parried the Triad’s next blow. A swipe from the Triad’s hatchet caught the hilt of the cutlass and tore it from his grip. Then the first was back on his feet again and seized Killigrew from behind in an arm lock.

  Grinning victoriously, the second advanced on Killigrew and raised his hatchet to bury it in his skull. The barbarian kicked him in the crotch. As the Triad doubled up with a howl, Killigrew flicked a boot into his face and the hatchet man sank into the mud.

  ‘He is a meritorious fighter,’ observed Huang.

  ‘For one who knows nothing of wu-yi,’ Li sniffed contemptuously.

  Still caught in the first Triad’s arm lock, Killigrew threw himself backwards across the street. The Triad’s feet slipped in the mud and he was thrown across one of the tables at the eating stall. The plainclothes policeman jumped up and ran clear to stand under the eaves of the next shop along. He watched, reluctant to get involved and looking as forlorn as the last dim-sum at a banquet.

  The Triad recovered and pushed the barbarian off, still holding one of his arms in the small of his back. He pushed Killigrew’s face towards the glowing cinders of the eating stall’s cove. The barbarian pushed back, but the Triad was stronger. Killigrew reached up until his fingers closed around the handle of a wok hanging from an overhead rack. A resounding clang sounded across the street and the Triad staggered back with blood gushing from his nose.

  ‘Resourceful, too,’ said Huang.

  The Triad shook his head muzzily, noticed the barbarian’s cutlass at his feet and snatched it up. He circled Killigrew once more, grinning wolfishly. The barbarian parried a sword-stroke with the wok and then threw it at the Triad’s head, but the hatchet man ducked and the wok splashed into the mud.

  The Triad charged. Killigrew fumbled on the table behind him and snatched up an implement. Holding it before him, he revealed it to be a single chopstick.

  Li almost laughed out loud, but Huang was watching the fight intently.

  The Triad charged, swinging the cutlass at Killigrew’s neck. The barbarian side-stepped, slipped in the mud and thus by accident rather than design avoided a blow which would otherwise have decapitated him.

  ‘He possesses that quality which even the best of us cannot survive without,’ said Huang. ‘Good fortune.’

  ‘But fortune is a fickle mistress,’ pointed out Li, wafting his hand half-heartedly at a fly which had buzzed in out of the rain. ‘See, now he is finished.’

  The Triad stood over Killigrew and tried to stab him in the chest with the cutlass. The barbarian caught him by the wrist and pulled him down. The two of them rolled over and over until Killigrew was on top. He banged a fist into the Triad’s throat, and when he took his hand away Li saw a chopstick embedded there. Ironic, when one remembered that Confucius had said that chopsticks were preferable to knives because knives could be used as deadly weapons.

  Staggering with exhaustion, Killigrew pushed himself to his feet. He looked around, the rain cutting rivulets through the mud which caked his face. He saw the second Triad recovering consciousness and splashed over to where he lay. Realising his peril, the Triad tried to crawl away but Killigrew caught him by one ankle and dragged him back through the mud to the eating stall. He dropped the Triad’s leg, grabbed him by the tunic, and pulled him up out of the mud to throw him across one of the tables. Still holding him by the shirt front, he snarled in his face.

  ‘Where’s Zhai Jing-mu?’

  Before the Triad could reply, a single shot rang out across the street and the top of his head was blown off. Killigrew looked around sharply. So did Li and Huang. Assistant Superintendent Cargill was sprinting through the mud with a pistol in one hand, the other plainclothes officer hard on his heels.

  ‘You damned idiot!’ Killigrew snarled furiously. ‘He was about to tell me where Zhai Jing-mu is!’

  Cargill reached down, seized the dead Triad’s right arm and lifted it so that Killigrew could see the dagger in his hand. ‘The only thing he was about to do was stick this between your ribs. What the deuce are you trying to do? Tackle the Brotherhood of Heaven, Earth and Man single-handed?’

  ‘If that’s what it takes.’

  ‘I told you before. You worry about the pilongs and let me worry about the Triads.’

  ‘And I told you: they’re working together. The Triads could be the only link to Zhai Jing-mu.’

  ‘If he’s still alive.’

  ‘Oh, he’s alive, all right.’

  ‘Then I dare say you won’t have to go looking for him. He’ll make his presence felt soon enough.’

  Li and Huang watched the two barbarians walk away through the rain while the constables ordered a coolie to fetch a barrow to bear away the two dead Triads. The priest had crawled off shortly after the arrival of the two hatchet men.

  ‘Do you still want me to kill him?’ Li asked Huang.

  ‘Do you think you can?’

  The fly was buzzing about their heads again. Li watched it for a moment while taking out his chopsticks. A lightning-like movement, and he had seized the fly between the sticks. ‘Catching that fly was difficult. Exterminating the fan kwae will be easy.’ He released the fly and it buzzed away.

  ‘You did not kill the fly, Li.’

  ‘I saw no reason to.’

  The admiral chuckled. ‘The time you spent learning wu-yi at that Shaolin Temple has left you with Buddhist tendencies, Li Cheng.’

  Li did not smile. ‘When the propitious moment arrives, I shall do what needs to be done.’

  ‘The barbarian is no more dangerous than that fly.’

  ‘But he has a potentially fatal tendency to turn up in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ pointed out Li.

  ‘You were right earlier when you said that killing a barbarian naval officer would draw too much attention. If Killigrew carries on the way he has done these past few months, it is likely he will get himself killed and save you the trouble. But if he gets too close, if he becomes a threat… I leave it to your discretion.’

  Li nodded his head. ‘Zhai tells me he has set up a rendezvous with Admiral Nie to arrange for him to be granted full pardon in return for helping to suppress the other pilongs on this coast.’

  The admiral’s brow became clouded. ‘Curse Nie’s interference! He must be stopped.’

  Li stared down at the pieces of the tangram. There was something not right about the way they were arranged.

  Huang opened a fist to show one of the pieces nestling there. He must have palmed it while Li was gazing out of the window. ‘Is this what you are looking for? Make sure you have all the pieces of the puzzle before you try to see the picture. Remember, there is too much at stake for any errors. The destiny of the Celestial Kingdom depends on us.’

  ‘Rumour has it that the Golden Dragon sails next week with a fortune in silver bullion stowed in her hold. And Killigrew on board.’

  ‘It is obviously a trap,’ snorted Huang.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Li. ‘But who is the spider, and who is the fly?’

  * * *

  ‘Are you certain you’re fit for duty, Second?’ Commander Robertson peered from beneath his bushy eyebrows as Killigrew stood to attention before the table in his day room.

&
nbsp; ‘Never felt better, sir.’ Even four weeks after moving out of the Bannatyne residence, the lieutenant still felt dreadful, his craving for laudanum as strong as his craving for opium had ever been, but at least he had strength enough to conceal the shakiness he felt. ‘I’ve been taking plenty of exercise, trying to get myself back in shape.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Cargill told me about your jaunt into Tai-ping-shan last week,’ Morgan said drily. ‘I can’t say I approve of this plan you’ve drawn up with Captain Verran,’ he snorted. ‘Why not put more guns on the Golden Dragon? Or take more men? You’ll be helpless if the pilongs attack.’

  ‘No, sir. The pilongs must have plenty of spies here in Victoria. If they see us cramming men and guns on to the Golden Dragon, they’ll know it’s a trap. The only reason the pilongs have never attacked her before is because they’ve never had incentive enough to do so.’ Verran had put word out that the steamer was carrying a fortune in silver bullion, although if an attack on the Golden Dragon was successful, the pilongs were going to be sorely disappointed: her cargo consisted of nothing more valuable than several strongboxes packed with bars of iron ballast.

  ‘At least let me follow in the Tisiphone,’ urged Robertson. ‘That way, if the pilongs do attack, we’ll be there almost at once, to even the odds…’

  ‘No, sir. The pilongs will see the Tisiphone leave in our wake and again know it’s a trap.’

  ‘I suppose it makes sense,’ said Morgan. ‘I’m just worried that in your eagerness to make the Golden Dragon look like a temptingly helpless target, you might make her too helpless in reality.’

  ‘Captain Verran’s confident that the Golden Dragon can hold her own against a pilong attack, sir, and I trust him to pick a crew he can rely on utterly.’

  ‘On your own head be it, Lieutenant,’ said Morgan. ‘But bear in mind that if things go wrong this time, it won’t be a question of what I’ll do to you: the pilongs will make any punishment I can cook up for you a purely academic question.’

  They stood up and left Robertson’s quarters. ‘You still haven’t told me which four men you want to take,’ the commander remarked to Killigrew as they headed for the companionway.

  ‘I thought I’d take O’Connor, Dando, Firebrace and Gadsby.’

  ‘Firebrace and Gadsby!’ exclaimed Morgan. ‘Aren’t those the two you recently had flogged for desertion, Commander?’

  Robertson nodded.

  ‘They’ve been punished for their crime, sir,’ said Killigrew. He had been the one who had dragged the two absconders from their hiding place in a brothel in Tai-ping-shan back in January, only to see them subjected to the barbarity of the lash. It had not made him feel proud.

  ‘That’s debatable,’ snorted Morgan. ‘If it were up to me, I’d’ve hanged the swine.’

  ‘I thought it would help restore their self-esteem if we showed we had some trust in them. A sailor without self-esteem is no good to anyone.’

  ‘I understand your thinking, Killigrew,’ Robertson said as they ascended the companionway. ‘But are you sure that on a voyage as perilous as this one, you wouldn’t prefer to have someone more experienced at your back? I understand that Able Seaman Molineaux has already volunteered, and I’m sure I could spare Mr Ågård.’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to be accused of favouritism, sir,’ Killigrew replied as they emerged from the after-hatch on to the quarter-deck. Heavy raindrops pattered noisily against the awning spread over the deck and churned the waters of Victoria Harbour into an unending dance of bouncing droplets. ‘Besides, Firebrace and Gadsby will never get any experience if we keep relying on the experienced men. Dando and O’Connor are both stout hands; and I’m gambling that Firebrace and Gadsby will be seeking to redeem themselves.’

  ‘I suppose you know what you’re doing,’ Robertson sighed in a tone of voice which suggested he did not believe a word of it. He turned to the boatswain. ‘Have Able Seamen Dando and O’Connor, and Landsmen Firebrace and Gadsby, report to me at once.’

  ‘Aye, aye, sir.’

  Killigrew pulled the brim of his cap down over his eyes against the rain and buttoned his greatcoat, tying the belt in a casual knot. ‘Go to my cabin and fetch my dunnage,’ he told Dando when the four sailors reported on the quarterdeck. ‘Then fetch your kit bag. Same goes for the rest of you. We’ll be spending a few weeks on detached service on board the Golden Dragon.'

  The four seamen exchanged puzzled glances. Of all the ratings on board the Tisiphone, only Ågård and Molineaux knew about the proposed plan to use the Golden Dragon to trap the pilongs, and Killigrew knew they could both be trusted to keep their mouths shut. Scuttlebutt being what it was, what became known amongst the hands would soon be common knowledge ashore, and that would ruin everything. He hoped that Verran had shown a similar discretion with the hands aboard the Golden Dragon.

  They went down into Morgan’s waiting gig with the captain and were rowed through the driving rain to where the Golden Dragon was anchored, loading supplies for the coming voyage from a harbour lighter.

  Morgan cast his gaze across the harbour to where some Chinese were laying the keels of some large canoes on the stocks. ‘What are they building over there?’ he wondered out loud. ‘Fishing boats?’

  Killigrew took out his pocket telescope and levelled it briefly. ‘Dragon boats, sir.’

  ‘Dragon boats?’

  ‘Yes, sir. For the festival next month. The Chinese hold the dragon boat festival every year around the fifth day of the fifth month of their lunar calendar. It’s supposed to commemorate an ancient Chinese poet and statesman who drowned himself in a river. The people set out to find his body, but to no avail, so they made offerings to the gods of the river. The dragon boat race commemorates it. The different Chinese trade guilds each build their own dragon boat and race against one another. It’s quite a spectacle to see.’

  They were drawing closer to the Golden Dragon now. A hundred feet from stem to stern, the steamer was even smaller than the Tisiphone. Like the Tisiphone, she was a ‘flapper’ – a paddle-steamer; what the Chinese referred to as an ‘outside-walkee’ – with two masts straddling the single funnel.

  By the time they climbed up the accommodation ladder, Captain Verran awaited them at the entry port with Assistant Superintendent Cargill. For once Verran’s characteristic insouciant grin was in abeyance. ‘Welcome aboard, Kit.’ He ignored Captain Morgan for the moment, clearly enjoying the chance to snub a man he would have to have shown deference to in his navy days. ‘These your lads?’ He indicated Dando, Firebrace, Gadsby and O’Connor.

  Killigrew nodded, dusting rainwater from his cap with the back of his hand.

  ‘Hassan!’ Verran waved across one of his petty officers, a brown-limbed Malay. ‘This is Abdul Hassan, my ghaut serang,’ he added to Killigrew. Verran turned back to Hassan. ‘This is Lieutenant Killigrew; he’s going to be in command of the Golden Dragon for our next voyage. As long as he’s on board, you’ll obey one of his own orders as if it were my own.’

  Hassan bowed before Killigrew. ‘Tuan.’

  ‘Have Mr Killigrew’s dunnage taken below to his cabin and see his men to their berths in the fo’c’sle.’

  ‘Aye, aye, sir.’ Hassan snapped his fingers at a couple of Filipino sea-cunnies and issued orders to them in rapid Malay.

  Studying the upper deck, Killigrew saw that the Golden Dragon was well run, the decks not unnecessarily cluttered, all ropes ends squared off, the rigging taut and in good condition. He also noticed that she had her own cannon: a thirty-six-pound bow-chaser and an eight-inch pivot gun in the stern, which made her armament only slightly inferior to that of the Tisiphone. He hoped it would be enough to defend the steamer against any ambush that Zhai Jing-mu might be planning for them.

  Morgan cast a disdainful eye over Verran’s crew, a mixture of Lascars, Malays and Filipinos, most of them carrying daggers, swords and wavy-bladed krises in their sashes. One or two even carried ancient flintlock pistols which looked as if they might be as
hazardous to the firer as to the target. They scuttled about the rigging with all the agility of spiders negotiating their own webs. ‘Are all your crew natives, Mr Verran?’ asked Morgan.

  ‘All except my two tindals… mates, I mean.’

  ‘I know what tindals are, Mr Verran.’

  ‘They’re both Yankees. I’ll introduce you to them later, Kit.’

  ‘They’re a piratical-looking bunch,’ said Morgan.

  Verran grinned. ‘I suppose so. I dare say some of them have been pirates, at some point in their lives. But there isn’t a man on board who isn’t one hundred per cent loyal to me. And these sea-cunnies are some of the best sailors in the world, Cap’n Morgan.’

  ‘Except the British sailor,’ sniffed Morgan.

  ‘And the Krumen,’ added Killigrew.

  Verran bowed mockingly in deference to Morgan’s superior wisdom. ‘Before I can send you off on this voyage there are certain formalities to be attended to,’ said Morgan, and indicated his clerk. ‘Taylor has the paperwork with him. May we use your day room?’

  ‘But of course, Cap’n.’ Verran ushered Morgan and his clerk down the after-hatch, winked at Killigrew, and followed them below.

  Killigrew was about to go after them, but Cargill stopped him. ‘Wondered if I might have a word?’ he asked, stroking his whiskers.

  ‘By all means.’ Killigrew guided the assistant superintendent over to one corner of the quarterdeck where they could talk with some degree of privacy.

  ‘I’m sorry about what happened to Miss Dadabhoy. I know you were fond of her. Her murder shocked us all. I think you should know that no one blames you for what happened.’

  ‘Except myself,’ Killigrew said tightly. He did not like to talk about what had happened, but every night he lay awake, wondering if she might still be alive if he had played things differently.

  ‘It was Zhai Jing-mu who killed her. Now you know what kind of men you’re up against, Killigrew. It’s all very well the lawyers talking about due process and prisoners’ rights; that’s what allowed Zhai Jing-mu to escape in the first place. But I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that what answers in the Admiralty Court doesn’t necessarily answer on the South China Sea.’