He found Hatto occupied with a huge file marked ‘China’. As he saw Dicken he stood up and reached for his hat. ‘I think this needs a stiff drink,’ he said.
As they knocked back pink gins, Hatto explained. ‘Diplock,’ he said. ‘They found them. The whole lot. Crew. Diplock. Tom Howarth and a few others. They’ve got to be replaced.’
There was a long suspicious silence then Hatto went on. ‘I’d better put you in the picture. The frock-coats believe that if Chiang Kai-shek were defeated in China, Japan would be free to exploit the place without harassment, and that – if and when we’ve finally assaulted the Japanese home islands – they could continue the war from the centre of China. It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
‘So?’
‘So we’re putting tremendous resources into Burma. By the end of the year we expect to go over to the offensive there. There’s a new command set-up and a big propaganda campaign to indicate that the Japanese aren’t the supermen we thought they were. The aim’s to re-establish land communications with China. You’ll remember they cut the Burma Road in 1942. We’re hoping to reopen it. The Yanks have a general out there called Stilwell, and a fighter group called the Flying Tigers run by a chap called Claire Chennault gave us a lot of support. There was even a Chinese division helping. We’re now going to try to pay them back.’
Dicken studied Hatto, puzzled. ‘What’s your interest in all this, Willie? Are they sending out a British Mission or something?’
Hatto smiled. ‘In fact, the Americans are running the show but you know Winston. He’s not going to be nudged out of what were British spheres of influence and he’s insisted that we’re represented with the Chinese government, even if all we do is hold the Americans’ coat-tails.’
‘So?’
Hatto smiled. ‘So it’s become a major preoccupation to keep China in the war. To do so, the Americans have organised their airlift over the Himalayas and, with a little assistance from us, have provided a loan of over five hundred million dollars. Unfortunately, Chiang Kai-shek, for whom I imagine, after your stay in China in 1927, you have no great love, seems to have cast a spell over Washington. Roosevelt seems to show a strange partiality for him – it’s almost become a cult in Washington, it seems – but Winston’s a bit more sceptical. Chiang keeps sticking his nose into our affairs in India and Winnie thinks Washington’s a bit like Titania captivated by Bottom. He feels that, considering the amount of money and aid that’s been sent to them, the Chinese are being remarkably unwarlike and he wants somebody to find out just what’s going on. So he’s sending a little mission of his own.’
Hatto swallowed his drink and ordered another. ‘Some of the Americans,’ he went on, ‘have also started to grow a bit suspicious of Chiang and begun to think he’s just leading us all on, so, unknown to Roosevelt, there’s a new American mission going too. Walt Foote’s running it. After three years’ legal experience in the East he’s considered as much of an expert on China as you can get. They’ve upped him to brigadier.’
Dicken frowned. ‘Who’s leading our lot?’ he asked. ‘You?’
Hatto grinned at him. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You! They’ve decided that a man who managed to get himself captured by a warlord called Lee Tse-liu probably knows more about the place than anyone else they can find. They’ve also heard that you speak some Chinese.’
‘Some’s the operative word. Do they realise how many dialects there are?’
Hatto smiled. ‘I don’t suppose it’s occurred to ’em,’ he admitted. ‘It usually doesn’t to the clever types who think up these things. You’ll be flying in from Assam.’
‘It sounds hard work just getting there.’
Hatto smiled again. ‘You pick your own staff.’
‘I’ll have Babington,’ Dicken said at once.
‘What’s he got that’s so special?’
‘He picks me up when I’m drunk.’
‘Right. He’s yours and he’ll carry the right rank. You’ve also been nudged up another notch, same as Diplock. To give you some elbow.’
Dicken was silent and Hatto looked puzzled. ‘Aren’t you pleased?’ he asked.
Dicken smiled. ‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘I’m pleased. I was just thinking that, after twenty-five years of sitting across my career, for the first time Diplock’s finally done me a favour. And the only way he could manage to do it was by dying.’
Hatto nodded. ‘Anyway, congratulations. It’s not before time. If we weren’t now elderly gentlemen we could do a gloat dance.’
Dicken smiled back. ‘Perhaps we should save it until I come back. Will you be seeing me off?’
Hatto pulled a face. ‘Not this time, old son,’ he said. ‘They need somebody in India to watch things from there. I’m coming too.’