White Ghosts

30. THE NANKING INCIDENT

During the long months spent in solitary confinement, Daniel pondered many things. He was angry with himself for being arrested and with Nina for betraying him—he had no doubt she was to blame. But all this was soon subsumed by a very real fear of death after he contracted food poisoning. He sent Edna a note asking for help but received no reply. The warden who conveyed the message informed Daniel that he hadn’t even been allowed into the house. With no doctor, no medicines, and without even the most basic human compassion from his family, Daniel was at his lowest ebb.

Fortunately, the poorly educated jailers hadn’t confiscated his kitsune netsuke. They had thought it was a commonplace Chinese lucky charm, and Daniel asked his warden to take the netsuke to a pharmacist who collected antiques.

The pharmacist visited the prisoner and then sent him the medicine Daniel needed. By an irony of fate, Nina had saved his life without ever meaning to.

His case never went to trial. The prosecutors and investigators were too busy defending the city with the Volunteer Corps, and in any case, no one was quite sure which authority and which court was responsible for Daniel’s trial.

Eventually, he was handed over to the Chinese authorities, but when the NRA reached the outskirts of Shanghai, the guards unlocked the cells and fled.

In a daze, Daniel walked out of the prison gate and made his way through the crowded streets. He noticed banners and portraits of Chiang Kai-shek in the windows, and every other Chinese was wearing badges with the Kuomintang emblem—the white sun over a blue field. Even the cigarette packets for sale had the emblem emblazoned on their covers. It appeared that the tobacco factory owners had been hedging their bets long before the surrender of Shanghai.

People in the streets looked happy, their eyes were shining, and it was hard to believe that only a few weeks earlier Shanghai had been gripped in a paroxysm of fear at the prospect of the arrival of the NRA.

Nationalism changes people in the most peculiar ways, Daniel thought with a rueful grin. Chiang Kai-shek had made the “white ghosts” nervous and been transformed in the eyes of his people from a bandit into a prominent leader. Carried by a wave of national pride, no one cared now that the new father of the nation had slaughtered vast numbers of its sons and daughters.

Soon Daniel was in the apartment of his cryptographer, the son of a German pastor and a Chinese woman.

“Where have you been?” he asked, fussing over Daniel. “We’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Daniel explained what had happened to him—without mentioning Nina, of course.

The cryptographer brought him a piece of soap and a change of clothing.

“Here, clean yourself up and get a proper rest. I’ll send a message to Berlin that you’re back.”

Daniel spent several days gathering information about what had been going on in the city while he’d been in jail.

Don Fernando told him about the seizure of the Pamyat Lenina: “Mr. Sterling sent the Dogmeat General’s men a telegram, and they let me go. But Miss Nina was taken into custody.”

“Did she really go to Wuhan after me?” Daniel asked, surprised. “I thought it was Nina who reported me to the police.”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Don Fernando. “She’s madly in love with you. When you were gone, she and I went to visit every morgue in the city. I was so sad that my heart physically ached—and all the while I still had to broker the deal to save Shanghai.”

Daniel felt a rush of warmth inside. “Where’s Nina now?” he asked.

“No idea,” said the Don, sadly. “Probably she’s finished.”

Fernando informed Daniel that he had persuaded Chiang Kai-shek’s representatives, Big-Eared Du, and Sterling, to come to an agreement that the Green Gang and the foreigners would provide the Kuomintang with funds in exchange for betraying the Chinese communists and their Bolshevik allies.

It had been promised that the NRA would sit tight until the Red Guards and the governor’s soldiers had destroyed each other, and then enter the city unopposed. The foreign concessions were left untouched, Chiang Kai-shek came to a number of agreements with the “white ghosts” on mutual cooperation and some preferences to make the common people a little bit happier, and the International Settlement city fathers issued a resolution: “Chinese citizens may now freely visit all the city’s parks.”

Within a few days, there was a huge crowd in the Bund, waiting for their chance to try the forbidden fruit.

These developments were a bolt from the blue for the Bolsheviks and the Chinese communists. Trying to save the situation, Mikhail Borodin called for everybody to disobey Chiang Kai-shek’s orders, but the Red Guards were in no position to resist the combined forces of the foreigners and the Kuomintang.

The result was a stalemate for Germany. Since Daniel hadn’t been directly involved in the negotiations between Chiang Kai-shek and the “white ghosts,” he hadn’t been able to win any privileges for the Germans. Now they no longer enjoyed their favored status as the Kuomintang’s sole Western ally, and German industrialists would see no rewards for their months of illicit support.

Berlin decided that the best strategy, for the time being, would be to keep pitting the Russians, Chinese, and the Great Powers against one another, and soon Daniel was ordered to go to Peking to conduct a large-scale secret operation there.

Tamara was about to depart for Nagasaki when the news spread like wildfire that Nanking had fallen just after Tony and Klim’s arrival. The NRA soldiers had pillaged the local foreign concession, killed the vice president of Nanking University, and wounded the British Consul.

Every expatriate’s worst nightmare had become a reality. Even the most unflappable and level-headed among them were soon busy packing their suitcases. Rumors spread that every boat ticket for Europe and America had sold out in a single day.

Tamara became sick worrying about Tony and Klim, and she couldn’t stop reading newspapers and calling her friends to try and find out what was going on in Nanking.

“Mommy,” Roger cried as he rushed into her room, “turn on the radio!”

Hurriedly she fumbled with the dial on the receiver.

“American missionaries who have lived in China for years,” said an unknown anchorman, “are leaving the country in large numbers. Their churches are being burned down, and peasants are looting their houses.”

“It would appear that it’s not the messiah the Chinese have been waiting for but the NRA,” said a voice remarkably like Klim’s.

Tamara felt a flood of relief wash over her: he was safe after all.

“Tell us what happened in Nanking?” the anchorman asked.

“When the massacre started,” Klim said, “a group of foreigners gathered at Mr. Hobart’s house at the top of Sacony Hill. There were about thirty of us, including some marines with a radio transmitter.”

“Where did they get it from?”

“The marines had been sent by the captain of a British ship—to observe the events that were unfolding in the city.”

Please tell me, Tamara prayed silently, please, tell me Tony is alive!

“Looters started trying to break into the residence,” Klim continued. “We threw all the valuables we could find out of the window to buy us time. While the soldiers were fighting over them, we let off a distress signal. Then the American and British ships opened fire on the city and forced the besiegers to let us go.”

“How many Chinese were killed during shelling?” the anchorman asked.

“I don’t know. I know that we lost eight people, and about a dozen were injured.”

Tears were streaming down Tamara’s face. Now she had no doubt that Klim would tell the audience that Tony was one of the victims.

“We made ropes out of sheets and climbed down the city wall,” Klim said. “First down were the men carrying weapons, then the women and children. British seamen were waiting for us on the river bank with lifeboats.”

“Are you sure you were attacked by Chiang Kai-shek’s soldiers, not the communists?” the anchorman asked. “After all, we have a cease-fire now.”

“Do you think the commander knows what all his troops are up to?” Klim answered. “In civil wars, men with guns are free to do what they like.”

“Therefore the bombardment of Nanking was justified?”

Klim sighed wearily.

“I’m just grateful to be sitting here in Shanghai, chatting to you. I could just as easily be lying in a ditch with my throat slit open.”

The anchorman thanked Klim and read the latest news. The new military commander appointed by Chiang Kai-shek had ordered the Red Guards, who had entrenched themselves in the northern districts of the city, to surrender their arms and give themselves up. But they had refused to obey him and organized their own communist government.

Tamara turned off the radio. Without Tony, she thought in horror, I won’t be able to save the children if street fighting breaks out here.

She could hear the sound of an engine outside her window. Her mind went completely blank for a moment. If they tell me that Tony is dead, I’ll be dead, too, she thought.

A floorboard creaked, the door hinge groaned, and a familiar figure appeared in the doorway.

“Tony!” Tamara gasped.

He walked into the room, his head wrapped in bandages.

“Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall, Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall,” he said apologetically. “The rope that we used to climb the city wall snapped. I was lucky; Klim and a British lieutenant dragged me to the lifeboats. Otherwise, I’d never have made it.”

“It’s alright,” Tamara sobbed. “We’ll fix Humpty Dumpty.”

Daniel went to see Don Fernando at the radio station to pick up his latest counterfeit passport. This one was in the name of a bogus Austrian businessman.

The Don was in his office listening to Klim Rogov, who was on the air talking about the massacre in Nanking.

“I’m sorry, but today is my last day here at the radio station,” Klim said. “I have to go to Peking on personal business.”

“What?” roared Don Fernando. “And who is going to present your show?”

Completely forgetting his guest, the Don ran out of the door, and a minute later Daniel heard a blazing row in the corridor.

“Are you crazy?” Fernando yelled at Klim. “Why are you going to Peking? To save your wife? She dumped you, and you’re still ready to chase her to the ends of the earth like a damn fool?”

Daniel’s heart skipped a bit. Was Nina in Peking?

He went into the corridor and saw Klim and Fernando, standing next to a brightly lit window.

“I’ve found out,” said Klim, “that the Dogmeat General sold Fanya Borodin and other prisoners to the Peking warlord Zhang Zuolin. The northern border regions are plagued with infiltrators from the Soviet Union, and he’s decided to arrange a show trial of prominent Bolsheviks to intimidate them.”

“The sentence of the court has already been prearranged, don’t you see?” said Fernando. “Zhang will simply execute his captives. How are you going to change that?”

“Don’t even try to dissuade me,” said Klim.

Daniel stared at him with an intense hatred.

“Nina needs help at the highest diplomatic level,” he said walking up to Don Fernando and Klim. “I have contacts in the Peking Legation Quarter, and I’ll do my best to get her out.”

“Nina would never have been in this mess if it wasn’t for you,” Klim began in an icy voice.

“And who made her so miserable that she wanted to run away to Wuhan in the first place?”

Don Fernando stepped in between them. “If I were you, gentlemen, I’d concentrate on getting her out of prison first. Otherwise, the executioner will divide her up between the two of you. One of you will get the head, and the other the rest of her body.”

In an instant, Daniel had taken stock of the situation. I’ll be needing someone who speaks Russian and who’s prepared to take risks, he thought. Why not Klim Rogov?

“Fernando is right,” Daniel said in a conciliatory tone. “Let’s join forces and go to the capital together.”

He offered his hand. Klim paused and then reluctantly shook it.

“Do you really think you’re going to save her? Really?” Don Fernando started, but then waved his hand in a gesture of futility. “O, Holy Virgin, please, just grant me that they don’t kill each other before they get there. I’m not asking for you to make them see sense—I know that even your powers only have certain limits.”

At four in the morning, the navy ships’ sirens wailed, and army trucks raced through the International Settlement, full of armed soldiers. Edna jumped from her bed and peeked through her bedroom window.

“Who are they?” her amah asked in a terrified voice. “Who are they going to kill?”

The trucks disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared. Soon, shooting could be heard breaking out in the northern outskirts.

The newsboy didn’t bring the morning papers, the phone was disconnected, and Edna waited in vain for her driver until noon.

“I’ll walk to the Daily News office and see what’s going on,” she announced to her servants. “Who wants to come with me?”

All of them looked down, avoiding her intense gaze.

“You shouldn’t go,” said Yun. “It’s raining cats and dogs, and there’s shooting going on out there in the streets.”

“Do as you wish, but I’m going,” Edna said angrily, grabbing her umbrella and stepping out into the pouring rain.

As soon as she got out of the gate she saw Binbin, her coat unbuttoned and her lank wet hair hanging along her pale cheeks.

“The Green Gang killed all the Red Guards last night,” Binbin sobbed. “The gangsters were able to drive through the concessions, past all the checkpoints. That means only one thing: the ‘white ghosts’ and Chiang Kai-shek planned the massacre in advance.”

“That can’t be true,” Edna said in shock.

“The bodies were taken away in trucks,” Binbin said. “I saw it myself. This morning, people came out onto the streets to protest in front of the NRA headquarters. There were a few thousands of us, and the soldiers began to shoot at us with machine guns.”

Only now did Edna notice that Binbin’s coat was spattered with tiny spots of blood.

Her umbrella dropped from her hands and was immediately whisked up by the wind into the rainy mist.

“Why did you go to this meeting?” Edna said, hugging her friend. “They could have killed you.”

“I couldn’t stay at home. We have been waiting for our army. We were hoping that Chiang Kai-shek would restore peace and justice—but he has conspired with the bandits and ‘white ghosts’ against us.”

“Come to my house,” said Edna. “Yun will take care of you, and I’ll go to the Daily News office. I have to inform the world about what has happened.”

Edna didn’t recall how she got to the offices of the Daily News in the Bund. The elevator had just reached the ground floor, and Mr. Green came out into the lobby, dressed in a checkered coat and cap.

“Mrs. Bernard! Glad you’re back—” he began, but cut himself off, alarmed. “What’s the matter with you?”

“There has been a conspiracy between Chiang Kai-shek and Big-Eared Du’s gangsters,” Edna exclaimed breathlessly. “There was a massacre in the Chinese City—”

“Yes, I know,” Mr. Green nodded. “I hope the communists will learn from their lesson.”

Edna was stupefied. “Are you not going to publish anything about it?”

“We have already sent the special edition to the printing house. Chiang Kai-shek is a noble, resolute, and far-sighted politician who has saved our city from the horrors of Bolshevism.”

“What are you talking about? Does killing without a trial sound ‘noble’ to you?”

Mr. Green looked at Edna strangely. “I thought you were good at politics.”

Without a word, she went out into the Bund and stopped.

I have to go to the radio station to Klim, she decided. It doesn’t matter what’s been between us in the past. He has to listen to me and publicize the massacre on air.

The streets were now completely flooded, and Edna was up to her ankles in water, oblivious to the spray flying up from the passing cars.

When she reached the radio station building, Edna noticed a girl in a raincoat sitting on the steps by the entrance.

“Miss Marshall?” Edna called in amazement.

Ada looked up at her, misty-eyed. “My name is Messalina. I’m a prostitute at the Havana.”

Edna grabbed her by the shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“My fiancé has been killed, and Klim has left Shanghai.”

Ada stood up and staggered away, her head hunched between her shoulders.

Edna watched her retreating back, and in horror realized that it had been she who had kicked Ada out onto the street. In the heat of her anger and shame, she had never even given a second thought to the consequences. It was obvious—how else would a girl like Ada be able to provide for herself? Edna, the great crusader against prostitution, had shoved the poor girl into the brothel with her own hands.

“Miss Marshall, wait!” Edna shouted, and she ran after the Ada. “We need to talk!”