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2020
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Publié par
Date de parution
26 septembre 2020
Nombre de lectures
1
EAN13
9791220200271
Langue
English
Publié par
Date de parution
26 septembre 2020
Nombre de lectures
1
EAN13
9791220200271
Langue
English
Jade for a Lady
by
Kendell Foster Crossen
Writing as M.E. Chaber
With a Foreword byy
Kendra Crossen Burroughs
Steeger Books / 2020
Copyright Information
Published by Steeger Books
Visit steegerbooks.com for more books like this.
©1990, ©2020 by Kendra Crossen Burroughs
The unabridged novel has been lightly copyedited by Kendra Crossen Burroughs.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.
Publishing History
Hardcover
New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, February 1962.
Toronto: Holt, Rinehart & Winston of Canada, 1962.
Roslyn, NY: Detective Book Club #243, Walter J. Black, Inc., July 1962. (With The Case of the Blonde Bonanza by Erle Stanley Gardner and The Cannibal Who Overate by Hugh Pentecost.)
London: T.V. Boardman (American Bloodhound Mystery #399), December 1962.
Paperback
New York: Paperback Library (63-204), A Milo March Mystery, #1, January 1970. Cover by Robert McGinnis.
Dedication
This is for Lisa—and I wish that each page were a bit of ke yu.
Foreword: The Chinese Connection
Jade for a Lady (1962) was the tenth Milo March novel, but appeared as the first novel in the Paperback Library series published in the early 1970s. It is the first of three books in which Milo goes to Hong Kong.
The publisher of Paperback Library chose not to issue the books in chronological order, which could sometimes be confusing for fans, since there were often continuous story lines and returning characters. As a publishing professional myself, I assume they arranged the books in a sequence they considered appealing, starting the series with a strong book. I’m guessing they published Jade for a Lady first not just because of the fast-paced action and exotic atmosphere, but because of the lady in the title.
The lady in the title is Mei Hsu, who is Milo’s favorite of the many women in his life—from one-night stands to relationships that last for the duration of a case. Mei is the only woman he returns to, and who returns to him. The daughter of a wealthy river pirate, she is a real lady: tall and attractive, feminine, Western-educated (at the elite Smith College), and independent—and she and Milo make beautiful music together. After her father’s death, Mei runs his illegal business, earning the sobriquet of Dragon Lady of Hong Kong. Her gang of men steals national treasures from the mainland, to preserve them or to turn the proceeds over to refugees from Communist China.
Although Milo makes his first trip to Hong Kong in Jade for a Lady, his connection with Chinese culture goes back to his Army days, when he was one of the first men sent in to help drive the Japanese out of China. He learned fluent Mandarin and Cantonese and apparently came to appreciate the ancient Chinese poets. The quoting of Oriental wisdom sayings in the Milo March series is a holdover from the pulps that Ken Crossen wrote under the pen name Richard Foster, including the fourteen Green Lama stories (1940–1943), The Laughing Buddha Murders (1944), and The Invisible Man Murders (1945). Milo is also well versed in Chinese etiquette, almost to the point of parody, and patiently exchanges humilities with old man Hsu. “Most of our conversation was over which one of us was being honored,” he says later, yet he seems to genuinely enjoy it.
Milo’s other pleasures—food and drink, not necessarily in that order—are also fulfilled in Hong Kong, including Peking duck, shrimp with garlic, steak and sour vegetables, bean curds in oyster sauce, strong Chinese wine, and Lor Mai Tsao whiskey.
Mei Hsu makes further appearances when Milo returns to Hong Kong in A Man in the Middle (1967) and Green Grow the Graves (1970). In the last novel published in Ken Crossen’s lifetime, Born to Be Hanged (1973), Mei flies to America to meet Milo where he is on the job in Reno, Nevada, thus relieving an otherwise tough story with a mostly male cast. They also discuss marriage. That is, Mei asks Milo why he doesn’t marry her. Milo regretfully explains that he wouldn’t be able to accept being “Mr. Hsu.” And, frankly, Milo’s lifestyle wouldn’t be fair to Mei. But it is a model relationship while it occurs. As Milo later acknowledges, “I was more fond of her than I usually cared to admit.”
Mei Hsu is portrayed on two of the spectacular Robert McGinnis covers in the Paperback Library series: bikini-clad in number 1 (number 10 in this series) and topless in number 19 (in both series).
Kendra Crossen Burroughs
One
The name is March. Milo March. I’m an insurance investigator. For one hundred dollars a day and expenses. Some people think this ought to make me rich. Maybe it would, if I worked every day in the year. But there are long dry spells when all I do is sit around in my office and wait. …
The phone rang. I picked up the receiver and said hello. “Mr. March,” a strange voice said, “this is Robert Carlin, manager of the Claims Bureau of the Personal and Inland Marine Insurance Association.”
“Yes?” I said. It didn’t mean much to me. I’d heard of the Association, but that was all.
“Your name was suggested to me by Martin Raymond of Intercontinental Insurance,” he said. “Intercontinental is one of our member companies. I wonder if you might come down and talk to me?”
“I guess it could be managed,” I said casually. “What do you have in mind?”
“I’d rather talk about it when we meet. Can you make it today? For lunch?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Twelve?”
“I’ll be there,” I said.
“Good,” he said, and hung up.
I replaced the receiver and opened the phone book. I looked up the Association. They were way downtown on John Street. I picked up the phone and dialed the number of Intercontinental. When they answered, I asked for Martin Raymond. I repeated the request and added my name when his secretary answered.
“Milo,” he said, coming on. “How’s the boy?”
“Still a boy,” I said, “if you’re careless with a few years. I just had a call from Robert Carlin. What’s the bit?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Carlin is head of Claims for the Association. We had lunch the other day, and he mentioned that they were thinking of hiring an outside man for a special job. I suggested you. That’s the whole script.”
“What’s the job?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“What kind of a man is Carlin?” I asked.
“Top drawer. He’s a former FBI man and has been with the Association for about fifteen years. We’re a member, but we’ve never asked them to do an investigation for us. I’m told that they do a hell of a good job when they’re called in.”
“Well, thanks for the plug—I think.”
“Nothing,” he said. “You know that I’m always in your corner, boy.”
“It’s nice having you in my corner,” I said, “except for the times when you have your thumb in my eye.”
He chuckled, but it was an executive type sound without any meat on it. “That’s my boy. Always making with the old laugh meter. Well, I’ll see you around, boy.”
“I suppose so,” I muttered, putting the phone down. I looked at my watch. It was shortly after ten-thirty.
There wasn’t much chance that I’d get another phone call. Most of my business came from Intercontinental. I called my answering service and told them I’d be back by two or two-thirty. I went downstairs and went to the nearest bar for a martini. By the time I’d finished it, it was time to go. I got a cab and told the driver to take me to John Street.
It’s a funny thing. I’ve traveled all over the world on jobs, but when I’m in New York, anything that isn’t Greenwich Village, where I live, or Madison Avenue in the mid-forties, where my office is, seems like a major safari. In fact, I’d never been to John Street.
It turned out to be a narrow, busy street. The taxi deposited me in front of number 60 and I went in. A glance at the board in the lobby showed me that the building was full of insurance companies. I went up to Personal & Inland Marine and was shown into Carlin’s office.
He was a wiry little man, probably about fifty. His office, in size and furniture, was pretty much what I was accustomed to seeing in insurance companies—but he wasn’t. He wore a dark shirt and tie and a rumpled suit, which made him look more like an artist than either a vice-president or a former Federal agent. “Let’s go to lunch,” he said as soon as we had shaken hands.
We went downstairs and walked a couple of blocks to Whyte’s. It’s a restaurant so old, it’s practically a tradition downtown. We got a table upstairs and ordered a couple of drinks.
“Are you free to take a job?” Carlin asked when we had our drinks.
“I guess so,” I said. “Depends on what it is. I didn’t know you handed out jobs.”
“We usually don’t. We have six men in the department and they can handle about all we do, but it keeps them busy. That’s why I decided to look around for someone to take this case. If I used one of my own men on it, he might be away too long. Martin Raymond said that you were the best man he knew.”
“Martin doesn’t know very many,” I murmured.
He smiled. “I did some other checking on you before I phoned. You may not have the background that my men have, but it strikes me that you’re just as good.”
“What’s the job?” I asked.
“It’s really two jobs,” he said. “One of our member companies—Great Northern Insurance, to be exact—carried a large policy on a necklace of imperial emerald jade owned by