I grinned at the pockmarked man, he grinned back, and Chang smiled benevolently.
“An excellent jest,” he said.
It was.
The pockmarked man bowed and started to duck back through the hangings. Loose shoes rattled on the boards behind him. He spun around. One of the big wrestlers I had seen the previous day loomed above him. The wrestler’s eyes were bright with excitement, and grunted Chinese syllables poured out of his mouth. The pockmarked one talked back. Chang Li Ching silenced them with a sharp command. All this was in Chinese—out of my reach.
“Will the Grand Duke of Manhunters permit his servant to depart for a moment to attend to his distressing domestic affairs?”
“Sure.”
Chang bowed with his hands together, and spoke to the wrestler.
“You will remain here to see that the great one is not disturbed and that any wishes he expresses are gratified.”
The wrestler bowed and stood aside for Chang to pass through the door with the pockmarked man. The hangings swung over the door behind them.
I didn’t waste any language on the man at the door, but got a cigarette going and waited for Chang to come back. The cigarette was half gone when a shot sounded in the building, not far away.
The giant at the door scowled.