Who Speaks for the Damned (Sebastian St. Cyr #15) - C. S. Harris Page 0,62

beard.” Abbasi’s teeth flashed in a smile. “When he walked into my baths last week all cleanly shaven, I didn’t recognize him until he spoke.”

Abbasi paused, a frown creasing his forehead.

“What?” asked Sebastian, watching him.

“I take that back. There actually was one fellow who recognized him. It happened shortly before I left. Nicholas ran into him by chance in Macau.”

“What was the man’s name? Do you know?”

“Sorry. All I remember is that he was with the East India Company. Nicholas hated British East India Company men—myself excepted, of course.” Abbasi flashed another smile. “He hated the British in general because of what His Majesty’s own had done to him in Botany Bay, and he hated the company specifically because it is behind most of the opium being smuggled into China.” Abbasi blew out a long stream of fragrant smoke. “I’m told that not long ago, the Chinese used opium the way we do, for pain. But now they’ve taken to smoking it the way we smoke tobacco, and it’s become a big problem. The emperors forbade its importation, so the East India Company switched to smuggling it.”

“Is the smuggling that hard to stop?”

“The thing is, the eradication of smuggling is the responsibility of the Hoppas—the customs superintendents. They’re the same officials who collect the duties and fees in the port. And it’s the opium smuggling that earns the East India Company the silver they then turn around and use to buy Chinese goods. So the Hoppas are afraid that if they crack down too hard on the opium smuggling, they’ll see a corresponding fall in the revenues they send to the Imperial Court in Beijing. Obviously, that would impact their own income. And it also wouldn’t be good for their necks.” Abbasi illustrated the point by slashing a knifelike hand across his throat with a grimace.

“So one of the East India Company men recognized Hayes?”

“Not exactly. Nicholas recognized him. The first time he saw the man, we were on the streets of Macau.” Abbasi paused. “Nicholas told me once that he was different when he was younger—impulsive and quick to anger. But the Nicholas I knew was one of the calmest, most controlled people I’ve met outside of a monastery. And yet the sight of that East India Company man drove him wild. I managed to hold him back then. But when we ran into the same man two days later on the waterfront . . .” Abbasi’s voice trailed away, and he shook his head.

“What happened?”

“Nicholas got the fellow down on the dock and was slamming his head against the boards. And all the while he was doing it, he was screaming, ‘You killed her. The two of you, you killed my baby.’”

You killed my baby. Sebastian felt the possibilities suggested by those words settle like an ache in his gut. “How did it end?”

“Some of the sailors from the East India Company ship ran up and pulled Nicholas off the man. But they didn’t dare do anything to Nicholas because of Chen, so they let him go.”

“You think the man recognized Nicholas?”

“He must have, because he kept shouting, ‘I didn’t kill the thing. It died.’” Abbasi paused, something that was not a smile curling his lips. “The ‘thing.’”

“Did Hayes ever tell you what it was all about?”

Abbasi shook his head. “He simply apologized for losing control. But over the years that I knew him, he said other things that led me to think that before he left England he’d been in love with a woman who had his child, only the child later died. I never knew how the East India Company man was connected to it all.”

“Do you remember what the man looked like?” asked Sebastian, although he thought he already knew the answer.

Abbasi took a long pull on the hubble-bubble, then let the smoke stream out before answering, “I do, yes, because he was so unusual. He was still a fairly young man with a smooth, unlined face. But his hair was completely silver.”

Chapter 37

T he headquarters of the East India Company lay in Leadenhall Street, in the City of London. An early-eighteenth-century structure known as East India House, it had recently been remodeled and expanded. Boasting a classical facade with giant Doric pilasters and an elaborate frieze, the place was massive, with multiple meeting rooms, Directors’ offices, an auction hall, and endless committee rooms as well as a courtyard and gardens. Over the years, the East India Company had also taken over most of the