Mr. Wu then turned to Luke and bowed slightly. “I’m so happy you were able to make this journey, Mr. Lucas. I will attempt to make your time with us as profitable as I can.”
Luke smiled and looked around. “With all due respect, I’d say you’ve already outdone anything I was expecting. You’ve been most generous, sir.”
Robert’s father smiled and nodded. “I think it’s always best to let history make those judgments, Mr. Lucas. Please, take your seats.”
The three table waiters helped with the chairs in one motion and immediately turned and came around to the front of the table to deliver small silver platters, centered with steaming silver finger bowls scented with jasmine and roses. Soft napkins were uniformly rolled at one side, and a small green sea turtle, deftly carved from lime peel, floated on the water.
Luke looked across at Robert and copied whatever he did. Mr. Wu turned to Luke again. “Mr. Lucas, I really do appreciate your feelings about security, which, by the way, is the principal reason we are meeting here tonight, but I’d be a poor host to allow you to sit there all evening with that package chafing up against your leg . . . If you’ll look to your right, you’ll find that a low table has been placed there for your convenience. You can safely rest your burden there within reach. I assure you no one will touch it without your permission.”
Luke did as suggested. “Thank you, sir. But this portfolio is more of an emotional burden than anything else. Thankfully, by Monday it shall be back under tight security once more.”
Mr. Wu interjected. “That was one of the things I wished to discuss with you, Mr. Lucas, but that can all wait until after we’ve enjoyed our dinner. I hope you don’t mind, gentlemen, but I’ve taken the liberty of choosing the menu and wine in advance. Do you like French food, Mr. Lucas? I know my son does.”
Luke smiled. “Yes, sir, I do indeed. My dear mother tried her best to raise me well, and she was a genuine ‘Four F’: frenzied French-food fanatic. However, she always claimed I had an untutored palate, by which she meant I ate too much garbage in the student union, I suppose.”
The elder Wu laughed with insight and turned to Robert. “I had the same problem with my esteemed son, but I unknowingly nurtured a future addict. He even wangled a stint at the Sorbonne in Paris to study ancient Chinese texts collected by French Jesuits on the island of Ceylon. However, his credit card bills indicate that he spent six hours of every eight eating a wide swath all over Paris, and all of southern France, I might add.” Mr. Wu bowed his head toward his son. “It’s in my son’s honor that I have chosen our menu.”
Robert looked pleased. “That’s most kind of you, Father.”
The meal was excellent and consisted of numerous small dishes, each calculated to make the portion that followed taste even better. Robert said it was like a French dim sum, and he inhaled every morsel.
When the last course was cleared away and coffee served, the waitstaff disappeared completely. Mr. RI and Mr. Wu’s chauffeur appeared out of the shadows. The secretary supervised the placement of a covered table nearby, and two more lamps were brought in to illuminate the surface. Mr. RI then produced a wrapped package, approximately two feet square, and carefully placed it at the center of the table, and then he and the chauffeur disappeared back into the gloom, but Luke was quite sure they had not left the room. He imagined that they were in the dark somewhere close by watching their master’s every move for a hint of distress.
When he’d finished his coffee, Mr. Wu turned to his guest. “With your indulgence, Mr. Lucas, perhaps you will allow that it’s about time we discussed the purpose of our gathering.”
“As you wish, sir. As long as it’s within reason, and within the bounds of propriety, I’m at your service.”
Robert’s father nodded. “As you say, within the bounds of propriety, to be sure. Now it occurs to me, Mr. Lucas, that I know a great deal about you, whereas you know very little about me, aside from what my son has most likely told you.”
Luke politely interrupted. “I hope you’ll forgive me, sir, but Robert has told me nothing that an observant person could not deduce for himself.” Luke turned to his friend. “In fact, I might add without fear of contradiction that at present he’s probably more mystified about what’s happening here than I am. And in that light, perhaps our business would advance somewhat if I were to tell you what I do know, and you can correct me if I’m wrong in my details.”
The elder Wu’s eyes almost twinkled with an air of confidence that spoke of amused defiance.
Luke smiled confidently. His “freaks” had hit pay dirt. He looked at Robert and smiled again. Having no knowledge of what his friend was up to, Robert appeared somewhat pensive. Luke carefully folded his napkin, set it to one side, and turned to face his host. “To begin with, your son has told me little or nothing of importance beyond your exceptional scholastic credentials, and those are public knowledge. However, this is what I’ve discovered on my own. Your real name is not Lawrence H. Wu, it is in fact Dr. Lao-Hong Wu, and your grandfather was Dr. Lao-Hong. From my calculations he was a contemporary of Dr. Gilbert’s. Next, your family’s association with a company now calling itself APITC, or the Asian Pacific International Trading Company, goes back almost eight generations. It was then called the Three Celestial Corporations. I can only assume that modesty later inspired the elders to shorten the name to the Three Corporations. In effect you are CEO and president of the oldest credentialed Asian trading house in the United States. Your company’s reported net profits for last year alone amounted to $3,900,758,000. On a personal note, you were born on the second of August, 1944, in Nanjing, China, and came to this country under the sponsorship of American relatives when you were five years old. Your academic career was exemplary, if somewhat narrow in focus, and you have been employed by APITC since your graduation from Harvard Law School. You have only one son, the eminent linguist Dr. Robert Wu.” Luke grinned at Robert. “And I can only assume, from what I know of Chinese practices, that you have tried on numerous occasions to bring him into the family business, so far unsuccessfully.”
The elder Wu and his son suddenly appeared almost dumbstruck. They looked at each other with raised brows, and then looked back to Luke.
Mr. Wu forced a smile. “Please continue, Mr. Lucas, you seem to be doing quite well for the present.”
Luke nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Wu, I will. Your corporation owns a controlling interest in six overseas banks, as well as extensive holdings in commercial real estate, both domestically and in Asia. It is also reported that you sit on the board of two of the largest West Coast shipping companies, and you control a cargo airline that operates twenty-six heavy-lifting 747 aircraft. I could have found more information, but this was all I needed to fit the parts of the puzzle together.”
Robert’s father leaned forward. “And what puzzle would that be, Mr. Lucas?”
Luke smiled with an air of self-satisfaction. “Well, sir, first I asked myself why you would go to such expense to have us here, and just why you would be so intensely interested in what we’ve discovered. But I think I know the answer to that question. In fact, I’m certain of it.”
Now both father and son looked at each other with expressions of concern. The elder Wu nodded again without the polite smile. “Please go on, Mr. Lucas.”
Luke obliged. “Well, from my research I’ve deduced that the Three Corporations at the time of the discovery of Zhou Man’s artifacts were more powerful than any of the California tongs, and I’m quite sure they have always kept far better records. When we said at our last meeting that we needed access to better information, you knew exactly where to look for it: in your own files. In fact, I’m fairly persuaded you already knew all about Zhou Man’s testament. It’s also my belief that the Three Corporations have known about this matter since 1906. But then something unforeseen happened, and all trace of the artifacts was lost.” Luke nodded toward the table with the wrapped package. “It’s also my belief that tonight you have brought re
cords that indicate your proprietary interest in those artifacts.”
Mr. Wu nodded. “It seems I’ve underestimated you, Mr. Lucas. But do you mind telling me where you came by all your information?”
Luke clasped his hands together, looked down, and chuckled with slight embarrassment. “Please forgive me, but in truth, my last two roommates in college were the most outrageous computer geeks you’d ever want to meet. They’re first-class, full-blown savants, if such a thing exists.” Luke smiled and blushed slightly. “Well, to make a long story short, they owed me big-time for getting them through their humanities courses, so I called in a few chits. Frankly, Mr. Wu, if I’d been so inclined, I could have had your social security number, your FICO score, your passport records, and any driving violations you might have collected over the years. But those particulars were none of my business . . . How am I doing so far?”
The look of surprise on the faces of both son and father was palpable. After a moment Wu senior spoke again. “So far, Mr. Lucas, you have exceeded all expectations, and you are correct in almost every particular. And the fact is that we do have a proprietary interest in Zhou Man’s artifacts. Indeed, though we’re somewhat embarrassed to admit it, you might say that the artifacts were technically in our possession when they were lost. You will need my son to do the translations, of course, but in that package on the table you will find all the original records of a transaction my company initiated with the Bao tong in Monterey. They concern two treasures discovered near the shores of Monterey Bay. They are referred to in those documents as Zheng He’s Warrants. But that’s a polite way of saying that Admiral Zhou Man, who left the artifacts in Monterey, was sailing under the orders and authority of Admiral Zheng He, who in turn received his warrants from the Ming emperor Zhu Di.”
Mr. Wu paused, looked at his son, nodded, and then continued to address Luke. “But I think, Mr. Lucas, that in the end you must be the judge of what I say, as I must be the judge in light of other interests.” Mr. Wu’s expression brightened. “So now, to leach a punch line from an old joke, I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”
Luke was amused that this austere Chinese gentleman would even know the joke, but he nodded, arose from his seat, and invited father and son to join him at the table. Luke pulled out a penknife and carefully opened his package. He laid out the original rubbings, the photographs, and Dr. Gilbert’s hand-penned journal. Then Mr. Wu raised a finger, and Mr. RI appeared from out of the shadows and opened the other parcel. He laid out a series of Chinese documents as well as ink-and-brush illustrations that appeared similar to the artifacts described.
Luke called upon Robert to look at his father’s papers, while he sorted out material for his father’s examination.
After a couple of minutes Robert stood up. “These look like the real thing to me, Luke. They even contain some rather arcane characters that haven’t been used since the turn of the century, and the paper looks about right for the period, but I’d have to check the watermarks to be sure.”
Robert’s father pondered his son’s remark and grinned to himself. “I can assure you those records are the originals.” Then he nodded and bent over the table to examine Luke’s photographs and rubbings. Without looking up, he motioned to Mr. RI, and almost telepathically, Mr. RI handed his master a folding magnifying lens. Noting every minute detail, he continued to examine the photographs.
A bizarre but interesting possibility slowly breached the surface like a whale, and Luke instantly felt stupid for not recognizing the prospect before. He addressed his host in a serious tone. “I respectfully suggest that I feel we’re going through some kind of charade, Mr. Wu. In fact, I believe you may already know where Zhou Man’s artifacts are. That is to say, even if you can’t lay your hands on them at the moment, you know approximately where to look. You profess to have paperwork indicating a legal and proprietary interest in the artifacts, so why don’t you just go get them? One way or the other, you don’t need us. You already know more than we do. So why all the window dressing and mystery?”
Mr. Wu straightened up and riveted Luke with a stern expression punctuated with a sardonic grin of logical superiority. “You seem to have a very good mind, Mr. Lucas, and it appears you know how to use it with some dexterity. Yes, in fact, we do know what happened to the artifacts, but we don’t know how, or where, to find them after all these years. You’ll obtain this information in those ledgers, but I’ll give you a shorthand picture. The Three Corporations paid out a great deal of money in gold to take protective possession of the artifacts. The Monterey tong, being small and poor, could not secure the treasures properly, so we made them a generous proposition, which they eventually agreed to. My grandfather Dr. Lao-Hong was a young man at the time. His uncles sent him on behalf of the Three Corporations to Monterey to negotiate the exchange, which he did successfully. When the time came to bring the treasure north, a small steamer was chartered, and one of our most trusted secretaries was sent south to escort the artifacts via the chartered steamer to Santa Cruz, and from there by mail packet to San Francisco.”
Luke interrupted. “I don’t understand. Why would you transport such valuable material by water, and in a small steamer at that? Why didn’t you take it north by railroad?”
Mr. Wu smiled. “The San Francisco earthquake of April 1906 did more than just destroy one city, it shattered numerous outlying communities, and with that, many railroad lines were made unserviceable. It took many weeks for some lines to restore a regular, albeit limited, schedule. At the time, ships were filling in for the railroads in every capacity. Aside from putting the artifacts in a cart and walking them north, ocean transport was deemed the safest way to go.”
Luke suddenly caught the drift. “And your ship sank on the way to San Francisco.”
“Not the ship, Mr. Lucas, the chartered excursion steamer taking the artifacts to Santa Cruz to meet the ship. According to the survivors, deep swells and whitecaps made for a rough passage. Suddenly there was a boiler explosion and fire. The people escaped to a small boat relatively unscathed, and were ultimately rescued by a passing fishing boat, but the steamer drifted away from land engulfed in flames; it then presumably sank. There was no one around to witness her last moments, but she took Zhou Man’s treasure down with her.”
An incredulous expression crossed Luke’s face like a blush. He felt as though he’d lost the thread. “I hope you’ll forgive me for asking, but what’s the problem? Your company has more than enough money to mount a search of its own. All you need is a dependable research vessel and crew, a couple of side-scan radars—computer-linked to a broadband sonar, of course—throw in a couple of RUV units and a half dozen deep-water divers, and off you go. It shouldn’t take you more than eight months to plot every piece of debris off the coast of Santa Cruz for a hundred-mile radius. If you run a thorough plot with the best equipment and the best people, the search shouldn’t cost much over three hundred thousand a week. But of course, that’s not counting little things like food, a qualified medical officer and supplies, diesel fuel, maritime insurance, and a bunch of stuff like that.”
Luke carefully watched Mr. Wu’s expression for a hint of what was on his mind, but drew a blank and continued. “Assuming that the steam launch was made of wood, which is par for the course in that era, and that she did in fact burn to the waterline, the chances of finding any trace of the hull itself are negligible at best. Being a screw-driven, steam-powered vessel means the only metal you’re likely to find would be a simple two-or three-cylinder engine and a boiler and firebox. But if there was an explosion as reported, you may not find the boiler or firebox in the same location. Then there’s the matter of a hundred years of silting. If the artifacts weren’t already effectively shattered by cold seawater coming into contact with red-hot stones, they’d probably now be buried under several meters of silt, depending on where the burning hulk ultimately went down, of course.”
Luke could see that Mr. Wu was getting the point, but t
he man was still curious. “Tell me, Mr. Lucas, why do you presume the stone objects were destroyed by the fire?”
“I didn’t say they were destroyed by the fire itself. The stone artifacts were most likely wrapped and sealed in some kind of waxed cloth, linen most likely, and packed tightly around with straw inside an appropriately sized wooden shipping crate, because that’s what people did in those days. Agreed?”
Mr. Wu nodded. “I will take your word for such details, but finish the equation if you please.”
“Of course, sir. So now we have a stout wooden crate packed tightly with flammables like dry straw and waxed cloth, and a fire breaks out all around. The box then becomes a self-consuming furnace; the waxed cloth and tightly packed straw make stupendous fuel. One must assume, therefore, that the temperature of those stones during the fire must have been very considerable. And if they didn’t shatter to pieces from the heat, then certainly immersion into cold seawater from that state would have done the job quite nicely. So it’s very possible that what you’d be looking for now might be little more than unrecognizable chips and chunks of stone.”
Mr. Wu was silent for a moment. “So you don’t hold out much hope of finding either the wreck or the cargo intact?”
“I didn’t say that. Anything is possible. Perhaps the boat sank before the fire reached her cargo. There were no witnesses to the final moments, so no one knows. But these days they seem to be finding every important ship that ever went to the bottom. I just don’t believe that in this particular case a full-blown research expedition is appropriate, at least not right now. For one thing, it’s far too expensive, and second, if you don’t know what you’re looking for or where to begin looking for it, you’re just wasting money. It’s far better to spend that money on preliminary research first. There is a mountain of information out there to be gleaned and cross-referenced. Things like old tidal charts, known wrecks and obstructions, historical data, even local newspapers of the period can prove helpful. Perhaps some passerby onshore saw the smoke from a fire at sea and pointed out some landmark to draw a heading upon. Who knows? But you won’t find anything without looking.”
In The Shadow of The Cypress Page 19
