"That went down nicely," said Cockbottom. "Care for another?"

"That’d be great, thanks." I handed him my glass.

While he busied himself at the bar in the corner of his office I watched the ferries cruising about the harbor. The late-October sunshine glinted brightly on the water, and beyond the towers of Kowloon the hills of the New Territories marched north into China; the rocks and trees covering them crisp against the blue sky.

"Magnificent weather," I said. "This is the best time of year to be in Hong Kong."

"Yes, and a nice breeze too." Cockbottom handed me a Pim’s No. 7 before settling massively into the big chair opposite.

"Beats the hell out of all that rain."

"Indeed. What a beastly summer."

We sat quietly for a moment, relishing the view and the drinks.

"Congratulations again on your engagement to Ai Lin," he said. "Lavender and I can’t wait to fly back for the wedding."

"Great to hear that." We touched glasses.

With my luck things would somehow get fouled up, we’d never get married, and I’d be depressed and down the cost of one very expensive ring, but that wasn’t really an issue, as I’d been flush with money for the last few months. A true corporate success story - although sometimes the knowledge of how close I’d approached disaster clouded my triumph.

"You’re guest of honor," I said. "We’re thinking of having it on the peak sometime next year. A day like today would be perfect."

"It was such a day when Lavender and I got married. We were younger than you and Ai Lin – people used to marry early in the old days - but even so I see a great deal of you in me."

"Really?"

"Yes, bright young shillings the both of us," he took a reflective swig. "Bright and uncorrupted by these beastly narcotics – although in my day it was opium, in your day it’s this ecstasy and cocaine."

Pity the opium dens were gone, I thought. What could be grander then whiling away a hot afternoon getting stoned among naked young concubines, dozing among pillows in a cool, shaded room? "Opium must have been very tempting," I said.

"You wouldn’t have found it so, Stratton, but many did. Who wants to lay languidly about all day? Not the thing for men of action. Not the thing at all."

"Oh no, that’s not what I meant. I just think that a lot of guys would have found it tempting."

Cockbottom grunted. "How are things at the joint venture?" he said.

"Good. I think you were right on the money in deciding to get rid of the Hootens people; there was no telling how many more bad apples there were. Dickie and Carsolita, though, can be trusted implicitly."

"Ah! So you managed to rectify Carsolita’s visa issue?"

"Yes, thanks to your help."

Cockbottom grinned. "Anytime, anytime. The three of you make a fine team, but all the extra Hootens accounts must keep you extremely busy."

"They do, but it’s good to be occupied with routine, run-of-the-mill work after everything that happened." And in fact Dickie and Carsolita had been extremely busy getting all the Hootens accounts to sign new contracts with CWH International, my latest shelf company.

"But I’m still intrigued," Cockbottom continued, "whatever became of Matthews?"

I felt an uneasy twinge; despite months of practice, answering questions about Matthews still made me uncomfortable. Had Cockbottom learned something?

"No," I replied carefully. "Like I’ve always said, probably shot and dumped in the harbor. I was next."

"An extremely close call for you, young man. Extremely close."

I shook my head and stared reflectively into the ice of my glass. "Too close…too close."

It seemed he hadn’t heard anything. The mysterious "Headless Highwayman" had been in the papers for a while, and there was a number one could call with information on the case, but I’d never called it, and never would. It turned out that the taxi had been stolen, and police conjectured that the driver was an illegal immigrant, which, if true, would help explain his haste in leaving the scene of the accident, and the absence of the headless man’s wallet.

"If you’d waited much longer before calling me, well…" Cockbottom trailed off.

"I hate to think of it."

"Yes, but chin up, Stratton, chin up. Close calls are a part of life. One must always stay ahead of the game."

"But I just can’t stop thinking that one of the bullets in Fanny Ma’s gun had my name on it."

"I can empathize. Back during the emergency in Malaya the communists were determined to kill me. Every night I slept with my service revolver under my pillow with the safety in the off position. Just like your Fanny Ma friend, although I’d never take a gun around in a motorcycle pouch with the safety off. She’s lucky it didn’t go off by accident. Heh heh. She still insists the gun was planted."

"Yeah, right." I put my glass down hard. "I mean, fuck, she threatened me with the damn thing."

Cockbottom gave me a long look, his eyebrow slightly raised. "Funny, though, that your friend Axewell should tell Captain Hussein that the cocaine in his suitcase was planted."

"Not at all. Don’t forget they were in collusion, and wouldn’t you deny guilt if you got caught smuggling cocaine into Malaysia?"

Cockbottom laughed. "No, I don’t suppose I would be too keen to confess. Must be bloody miserable in that Malaysian jail."

"He’s with his own type. It’ll be easier for him to take it than for civilized people like you and me. Same goes for Fanny Ma - and don’t forget she’s a lesbian."

"You have a point." Cockbottom contemplated the contents of his glass. "But the two of them had such good careers. Why squander them?"

I shrugged. "Money, the thrill of getting away with something, I don’t know. I reckon the world’s difficult enough without making your own difficulties. The only sure road to success is to work hard and keep your nose clean."

"Well said."

We watched an eagle soar in toward the window, only sheering off at the last possible instant.

"You know, Stratton, I admire your lack of bitterness."

"Really?"

"They tried to destroy your career and threatened to kill you, but you almost seem, shall I say, philosophical about the whole affair."

"I guess I’m just relieved it’s over."

"Yes, I’m sure you are. To justice." Cockbottom raised his glass.

"To justice."

The End

21 July 2003

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