Part 10 (1/2)
”I've never been more so. Chih-Nii works for the Green Gang. You know this, Sunny. For Du Yen Sheng.” She whispered the name of the overlord of Shanghai's criminal world. ”Du is a sworn enemy of the Communists. He gets along better with the j.a.panese. His men would skin this man alive.” She paused and squinted. ”Unless . . .”
”What is it, Jia-Li?”
”No one were ever to find out that he is a Communist.”
Sunny remembered how Joey treated Charlie like a matinee idol. ”I am afraid that's not possible. Someone is bound to recognize him.”
”Why? Who is he?”
”Bao Chun.”
Jia-Li's eyes grew wide. ”The Boy General? That Bao Chun?”
”Yes.”
”He's a national hero.”
”But he's also a Communist.”
”Yes, yes. We could never keep him here.”
Despondent, Sunny rose from the couch. ”I will have to look elsewhere.”
”If it's of any help to you, I might be able to arrange to get the general out of Shanghai.”
”Perhaps. I will see.” Sunny smiled gratefully. ”As if I haven't already burdened you enough, could I visit Simon now, bao bei?”
Us.h.i.+ insisted on taking Sunny down to the cellar himself. He led her into the wine cellar, then slid down the tight pa.s.sageway like a crab and into the concealed room.
Simon threw his arms around Sunny, almost knocking her to the ground. ”Oh, Sunny!” he cried as he righted her. ”Next to a visit from Esther and my boy, it doesn't get better than this. You ready to see a grown man bawl?”
Simon was clean-shaven and smelled fresh, but he had lost so much weight that his eyes were sunken and his Semitic nose more prominent than ever. ”You look well, Simon. Thin but well.”
He shook his head. ”And you look more gorgeous than ever. I'm not only saying that because I've been trapped down here forever with only men. Though G.o.d knows you do make a nice change of scenery.”
Sunny glanced around, but Us.h.i.+ had already vacated the room, and no one else was in sight.
Simon motioned to another door. ”The others are behind there. We're not supposed to have visitors, but if we do, the rest stay out of sight.” He wiggled his fingers in a give-me gesture. ”Please, Sunny, tell me about Esther and my boy.”
”They are well. Every morning Jakob seems to have grown more. And he smiles now. He's so adorable, Simon.”
Beaming, Simon dug his fingers into his s.h.i.+rt pocket and extracted a weathered photograph. He studied it for a moment before reluctantly handing it over to her. Franz had taken the photo. In the black-and-white shot, a smiling Esther held a wide-eyed Jakob up to the camera with both hands. Sunny remembered that Franz, who usually preferred to photograph buildings, had used his last roll of film on the shoot. At the time, she had wondered why her husband had insisted on snapping so many photographs. Now she understood.
Sunny returned the photo to Simon. ”Picture Jakob with your big smile and you'll know what he looks like today.”
Simon's grin faded. ”I am sick of picturing it, Sunny. I want to be with them. To hold my baby. To just smell him. And I want to kiss my wife again.” He screwed up his face. ”Is that so much to ask?”
It really wasn't, but Sunny couldn't muster the right words in reply. Instead, she only shook her head.
Simon studied the cement floor. ”I have to get out of here.”
”Soon, perhaps.”
”Not soon. Today.”
”You're not thinking with your head.”
”I don't care, Sunny. I'm going to leave.”
”The police will be looking for you.”
”Then I will change the way I look. I'll grow a beard or shave my head or put on some old gla.s.ses. h.e.l.l, I'll even throw on a bamboo hat and pull a rickshaw if I have to. Whatever it takes.”
”What about Esther and the baby?”
”Don't worry. I won't come near your home or the hospital. I wouldn't endanger Essie or my son like that. Not ever again.” He swallowed loudly. ”But even if it means only seeing them from across the road. Even if they don't know I'm there.” He tapped the pocket that held his photograph. ”It would still be a thousand times better than just looking at this.”
”Where will you go?”
He shrugged. ”I know people.”
Sunny paused, then squinted at him. ”You might have to stay here for a few more days.”
”Why?” Simon grabbed her arm excitedly. ”What is it?”
”There is someone who can help us.”
CHAPTER 16.
Franz had hardly slept and, according to the night nurse, neither had Charlie. Around midnight, the injured man had begun to tremble violently, as though he were having a seizure. His temperature spiked, and the fever didn't break until sunrise. All the while, Charlie refused more painkillers.
Franz slipped between the curtains surrounding Charlie's bed to find the young general locked in an urgent conversation with Ernst. His complexion was tinged grey and his face drenched in perspiration. Still, Charlie greeted Franz with a stoic smile.
Ernst looked up, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. His beard was still scraggly, but his hair had been combed back and his suit was less rumpled. ”Ah, Franz. Good morning. Everyone survived the night. Isn't that a delicious little miracle?”
”Every morning.” Franz turned to the patient. ”How does the leg feel, Charlie?”
”Less painful. Perhaps I will be able to stand on it soon?”
”Good, yes. Hopefully.” Franz found it difficult to hold the man's gaze. ”May I have a look under the dressing?”
Charlie nodded. Franz pulled up the sheet and gently removed the bandages from the wound. The redness around Charlie's knee had lessened and the skin was less painfully taut, but the fresh surgical wounds puckered. Their black edges troubled Franz. They did not look promising, especially without further surgery. He loosely rolled the bandages back into place, feeling like more of a fraud than a doctor.
”What is your opinion?” Charlie asked.
”The wound has a long way to go,” Franz said in a circ.u.mspect tone.