“Yes, yes.” Sir Darius gestured for them all to be seated. “It is for us, as well. It so happens that Mr. Jiang and Mr. Gu are here in London for private talks with the Foreign Office over a grave concern to their country—and to ours. It concerns opium.”
“Opium is a scourge. The emperor has forbidden its import into our country,” said Jiang. “And yet it’s being smuggled into our country from India.”
“Which greatly concerns our king, as our country wishes to maintain cordial relations with the Dragon Throne,” added Sir Darius.
“Cordial relations,” murmured Gu, “are in the self-interest of both rulers, as our empires look to expand trading opportunities.”
“My concern is opium, too,” said Wrexford.
“So Kit told me,” replied Sir Darius. “A fortuitous conversation, as our government would be happy to see the problem solved discreetly.” He picked up a portfolio of papers from beside the box of ivory tiles. “Are you familiar with mah-jongg, Wrexford? It’s a game of skill and strategy developed in China during the Qing dynasty.”
“I’ve heard of it but have never seen the tiles. It sounds similar to backgammon,” observed the earl.
“And chess, all of which were created in the East,” said Jiang. A mere ghost of a smile seemed to flit across his lips. “But then, here in the West, we Orientals are said to have sly and devious minds.”
“Those traits, I fear, are evenly spread throughout mankind.” Sir Darius opened the portfolio and passed a sheaf of documents to Wrexford. “Mr. Jiang and Mr. Gu have a network of contacts both in India and here in the dockyards of London. They’ve compiled a report that indicates the opium problem lies somewhere with the East India Company.”
“My inquiries have suggested the same thing.” Wrexford began skimming the pages. “Though I’ve still not confirmed to my satisfaction that I’ve identified the leaders of the illicit consortium.”
“We can be of some help there,” said Gu. “A man named Fenwick Alston created the smuggling enterprise some years ago. And though he’s no longer in Calcutta, we suspect that he still has a hand in running the trade.”
“According to his older brother, Fenwick Alston was killed in the West Indies,” replied Wrexford.
“How convenient, seeing as he was about to be apprehended for trading with Britain’s enemy,” cut in Jiang before the earl could continue. “But it seems the gentleman possesses not only the slipperiness of an eel but also the supernatural powers of returning from the dead. For he’s here in London. We’ve confirmed that for ourselves.”
Gu nodded. “Nobody notices two humble Chinese laborers working around the East India docks, as many of the stevedores are foreigners. We met the fellow in Calcutta during our visit with Sir Darius, so we’re familiar with his face. He was overseeing the loading of cargo into one of the storage warehouses just several days ago.”
“You’re sure of this?” asked Wrexford.
“Positive,” replied Jiang and then tapped a finger to the outer ridge of his left cheekbone. “He has a crescent-shaped knife scar here.”
The earl thought about Cordelia’s description of the Cobra. “Would he perchance have cold, snakelike eyes?”
“A perfect description,” answered Gu. “You’ve seen him, too?”
“No, but a friend has.” Wrexford looked up from the papers. “What about Lord Elgin Copley? Have you any proof of his involvement?”
“Ah, Copley.” Sir Darius pursed his lips. “A very careful fellow. Try as we might, we’ve found no proof to connect him to any wrongdoing. Though it’s hard to believe he’s not aware of what’s going on.”
“As to that, I have an idea as to why . . .” Wrexford quickly summarized his conversation with the baron.
“Blackmail, eh?” Sir Darius let out an unhappy sigh. “The road to perdition starts with such small steps, and one thinks one can halt at any time. But suddenly the slope turns steep and slippery. I confess, Copley has done much good over the years, but the scales of justice aren’t about simply balancing good and evil.”
“The question is, who’s blackmailing him?” mused Wrexford.
“My guess is that it’s Alston,” replied Jiang. “This is a complex operation, involving complicated logistics and a network of corrupt operatives. Copley is an able administrator, but his expertise isn’t in moving goods or paying bribes.”
The statement drew a confirming nod from Gu. “Alston has run two successful smuggling operations. One can’t help but believe he’s doing the same thing here in London.”
“His methods are becoming even more sophisticated,” continued Jiang. “He’s involved a very reputable private bank in helping to obscure the movement of the consortium’s illegal money. One of the staff is apparently no stranger to smuggling.”
Wrexford felt his innards turn to ice. “Hoare’s?”
“How did you know?” asked Sir Darius.
“I became aware of this whole scheme because an acquaintance was humbugged into putting money into the consortium by David Mather.”
Sir Darius made a moue of distaste. “He’s one of those fellows who yearns for more than he has. He’s apparently very clever with finances, and while at Oxford, he became involved with some childhood friends in a smuggling operation involving French brandy. Because of his age and the intercession of his mother’s uncle, a prominent member of the House of Lords, it was all hushed up.”
