“Well, your English sounds better than mine,” Harry said. Even the cupped echoes of Iris’s Chinese intonation were charming.

“What university did you attend, Harry?” Willie asked.

“Bible college.”

“But you chose not to become a missionary?” Iris said.

“I did publicity for Paramount and Universal. Pretty much the same thing. Are you enjoying the hotel?”

“It doesn’t seem Japanese,” Iris said.

“Not at all. Like Valhalla with Oriental lamps. But the emperor is a major shareholder, and that makes it Japanese enough.”

“Earthquake-proof,” DeGeorge added. “That’s all this tourist needs to know.”

“How is Michiko?” Willie tried to steer the conversation.

“Yes,” Alice said, “we all want to know. Is Michiko doing a little flower arranging or is she whisking tea?”

“There’s a gal who could whisk the balls off a bulldog,” DeGeorge said.

“According to Willie, she has musical interests,” Iris said.

“Contemporary music,” Harry said.

“Iris plays the piano,” Willie said. “Mozart, Bach.”

“Michiko plays the record player. Basie, Beiderbecke.”

“That calls for another round.” DeGeorge summoned the waiter.

“Is there any news on the negotiations in Washington?” Willie asked.

“The U.S. wants Japan out of China. Japan wants to stay. It’s the old story of the monkey and the cookie jar. He can’t get his hand out without letting the cookie go, so he doesn’t get the cookie or his hand. Now, Harry may have a different version, he’s the number one defender of the Japanese.”

“I just think there were lots of hands already in that cookie jar. British, Russian and American.”

“You know what I hear, Harry? The Japs are selling the Chinese cigarettes laced with opium.”

“Well, the British once fought a war in China to sell opium. The Japanese are great admirers of the British.”

“He really is incorrigible,” Alice Beechum said.

“You never thought of being a missionary?” Iris asked.

“Maybe I should,” Harry said. “It’s a good racket. Missionaries stole Hawaii.”

“Not everybody sees it that way,” DeGeorge said.

“Because they read Time, published by the son of a China missionary. The American people are fed stories about Chiang Kai-shek as though he’s Washington at Valley Forge. The most sanctimonious lobby in the United States is China missionaries, and if we have a war, it will be due in good part to them.”

“You really have no sense of morality at all, do you, Harry?” DeGeorge said.

Iris bowed like a flower in the wind and changed the subject. “Michiko sounds very interesting. I so look forward to meeting her.”

“That depends on how long you’re going to be here, I suppose. Willie?”

“Perhaps for a while. The embassy is slow about giving us our papers.”

“Willie has his papers, but the embassy is holding back mine,” Iris said. “They say he should go, and I would follow.”

Willie said, “They’ll never give her papers once I go.”

“What’s their reason for stalling?”

“They claim that the background of any foreign applicant must be investigated for unhealthy political involvement. That’s natural, I understand. But there are no investigative German agencies in China, and it seems any such investigation would have to be carried out by Japanese authorities. Although Germany and Japan are allies, there seems to be a lack of cooperation.”

“Imagine that.”

“That’s why we’re turning to you, Harry. You have influence with the Japanese. I saw this morning at the Chrysanthemum Club how you swayed them. They might approve Iris for you. Then, if they sent an approval to the German embassy, something would happen. Otherwise, they may force me to go alone.”

“Why does Harry have influence with the Japanese, that’s what I want to know,” DeGeorge said.

Harry took the deep breath of a surgeon reluctant to cut. “Willie, your embassy gave you good advice. Get Iris someplace like Macao, then you go home to Germany and wait. According to the führer, the war will be over in a week or two.”

“What if it’s not?”

“Yes,” Alice Beechum said. “What if, for some unlikely reason, it’s not?”

“A year or two. True love can wait.”

Willie’s cheeks turned red. “Anything can happen. Harry, you have to help.”

“I didn’t get her into this. You could have had the honeymoon without the preacher. You could have had your fun and said good-bye. You could have left Iris in China with enough money to buy her safety.”

“I am not a prostitute.” Tears sprang down Iris’s face.

“Money is not just for prostitutes,” Harry said. “The Bible says, ‘For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.’ The Portuguese are a kind and worldly people, and they’re neutral. Portuguese Macao is probably the safest place on earth.”

“Harry Niles, marital adviser. Willie, let me explain,” Alice said. “If we were in England, Harry would help my marriage by being my corespondent, the ‘other man.’ We’d arrange compromising photos in bed. He’d be perfect because his reputation can’t get any blacker. He is the bar other villains measure themselves by.”

Harry said, “Aren’t you supposed to be at a meeting of ‘British Housewives Against the Huns’?”

“I’m kind of curious,” DeGeorge said and hunched closer to Willie. “Why would you even ask Harry Niles to help? When did Harry Niles lift a finger for his fellow man?”

Willie looked away.

“Seriously,” DeGeorge said, “how could you ask Harry?”

“In China…” Iris began.

“I don’t know,” Willie said.

“Hey, I’m a reporter,” DeGeorge said. “I smell something here, Willie. You knew Harry in China. ’Fess up.”

“Willie,” Harry said. They’d agreed not to talk about this.

“I heard Harry got in a tight spot in China,” DeGeorge said. “Was it stealing cars, or a scam like his pine-tree gasoline?”

“Don’t do it,” Harry told Willie.

“No, they think I’m a fool for asking you to help. I’ll tell them why.”

DeGeorge sat forward to share the joke. The martinis arrived, and Harry sank with one into his chair. Sometime or other he had to get some food.

Willie said, “I was manager of Deutsche-Fon in Nanking. We handled the telephone exchange and electrical power. By December it was clear that the Japanese army would attack because Nanking was the capital, and once it surrendered, everyone assumed that the war would be over. But the Chinese resisted more than was expected, and even when the city fell, the army wouldn’t surrender, which infuriated the Japanese, and they began executing people. They shot men in the back of the head or bayoneted them or beheaded them or drowned them individually and in groups. I have heard estimates of ten thousand to a hundred thousand dead. I personally would say many more. I had hundreds of Chinese employees I was responsible for, them and their families. I was not alone. There were twenty other Westerners left in Nanking, mainly German businessmen and American missionaries, and we created an international safety zone to protect Chinese whose homes had burned. I was elected head of the committee, a position I accepted because I was also head of the Nazi Party in Nanking and had to set a moral tone.

“The zone was only a few square kilometers, but soon we had three hundred thousand Chinese under our protection. Though, as I said, there were only twenty of us, so the protection was not very good. Every day the Japanese would come to take away women to rape. Some we saved, some we did not. The Japanese came for men to kill. They roped them together a hundred at a time. Some we saved, most we did not. Or they robbed them. The Japanese took jade, gold, rugs, watches, wooden spoons. Attacked safes with guns, grenades, acetylene torches. If they took a woman away to search, we knew we would never see her again. We saved who we could.

“We had to feed all these poor people. We transported bags of rice in my car, the roof of which I covered with a white sheet with a red cross, so that we wouldn’t be fired on, because cars were always being commandeered and the drivers killed. Every time we went for rice, someone would run from a house to tell us his wife or his daughter was being raped inside, would we help? I had a Nazi armband. With that as my authority, I stopped some incidents, but I was not always successful. One time when I was failing, our driver, one of the Americans, a new face, got out with me. Since he had a stethoscope, I assumed he was a doctor. He brushed a line of soldiers aside, pushed up the girl’s skirt, proceeded to examine her and spoke to the soldiers in Japanese. Apparently he convinced them the girl had a venereal disease. That was Harry. I don’t know where he got the stethoscope, I think he stole it. From then on, Harry was my driver.”