The Palace of Heavenly Pleasure Read Free

Carefully he placed blotting paper over the page. He leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. He was tired, extremely tired … Just a moment’s sleep would … He jerked awake and lurched to his feet. His hand reached along one of the shelves, retrieved a half-empty bottle of brandy, which he put to his lips. There was a thump. It seemed to come from the landing. He froze. Then he went to the door. This time he stood there for a full five minutes before returning to his despatch.
    It is time to consider alternative strategies. I am aware of your lordship’s reluctance to commit further money or resources into a region that is not perceived to be directly an English sphere of interest. You asked me to sound out Japanese intentions, and I am pleased to report that their suspicion of Russian activities has been intensifying. There is a ‘forward’ party within the Imperial Army that is even now advocating aggressive steps to counter the Russians in Manchuria. Our agent with the Imperial High Command in Hokkaido—your lordship knows to whom I refer—reports that mock assaults on Port Arthur have been a regular feature of their army and navy field exercises, and he tells me that officers in the mess quite openly toast that day in the future when the Rising Sun will fly over the port of Dairen. Many believe that there will be war between the two powers within a few years, and that the victor will annex the Manchurian provinces in their entirety. In such a case it would be in our interest that the victor should be Japan and not Russia.
    It was a scratch at the door that startled him, followed by a sound he could not identify: a wail that seemed to rise above the banging of the storm outside and the broken shutter downstairs. It was a thin, human sound, which could have been a moan or a cry of ecstasy. The young man reached up wildly, knocking back his chair, and grabbed, for want of anything better, a cricket bat. This he brandished above his head in striking position as he pulled open the door. ‘Who’s there?’ he called. His voice came out in a squeak. ‘Who’s there?’ he repeated, in a more manly tone. Dark, empty corridors stretched in either direction. The small light from the candle flickered on the polished wood. ‘Come on out, if you’re there,’ he called. ‘I’m not afraid.’ He called again, this time in Chinese: ‘Ni shi shei? Ni shi shei? Chulaiba! Wo bu pa.’ There was no reply, only the banging of the shutters downstairs. ‘I’m not afraid,’ he whispered. ‘I’m not.’ He giggled light-headedly: ‘Come on, then,’ he called again. ‘Come out, you secret, black and midnight hags. Do you really think an Englishman’s afraid of a fox fairy?’ His bat dropped to his side, and with the other hand he rubbed his forehead. ‘You’re mad,’ he whispered. ‘Mad. Quite, quite mad. God, what I would give for some sleep…’ He shut the door quietly and moved back to his desk, but it was some time and another glass of brandy before he picked up his pen again.
    Between northern Manchuria and Harbin there still exists a large territory where Chinese government—albeit weak—prevails. We know that the Russians are trying by whatever means they can to win influence for themselves among local officials and army commanders, and sometimes even among powerful bandits. We suspect that weapons from the eastern Siberian supply depot at Lake Baikal are finding their way into the hands of local officials (for cash). It would be in Japan’s interest to take over this ‘trade in influence’. I believe that we are in a position discreetly to assist.
    I have examined where best we might focus our efforts, and I favour Shishan. Your lordship will note when you glance at the map that it is strategically positioned in the border area between the Russian and Chinese