A Lotus for Miss Quon Page 8

  The Inspector stiffened. He looked at Colonel Khuc who waved him away. He went out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  “What is it?” the Colonel asked, looking at Lam-Than with glittering eyes.

  Lam-Than pulled a chair close to the wall on which the picture hung. He got up on the chair and lifted the picture down.

  Both men stared at the hole in the wall for a long moment. Then Lam-Than put the picture against the wall and put his hand inside the hole. He groped around for a moment then withdrew his hand, shrugging.

  “There is nothing there now,” he said and stepped off the chair.

  The Colonel went over to an armchair and lowered his bulk into it. He took from his pocket a gold cigarette case, selected a cigarette and lit it with a gold and jade cigarette lighter.

  “What was in it,” he asked.

  Lam-Than smiled. It was a crooked sour smile, but at least it was a smile.

  “You expect miracles, Colonel, but I could make a guess.”

  “Guess then.”

  “Do you know who once lived in this villa?”

  “Why should I?” Khuc began to lose patience. “Do you?”

  Lam-Than inclined his head.

  “A Chinese woman. Her name was Mai Chang. She was once the mistress of General Nguyen Van Tho.”

  The Colonel stiffened, then he slowly levered his bulk out of the chair.

  “You mean the diamonds were hidden there?” His voice was a whisper. Every muscle in his gross body was tense.

  Lam-Than smiled at him.

  “It seems likely, Colonel, doesn’t it?

  For a long moment Colonel Khuc stared at his secretary. Then his lips moved off his white teeth in a wolfish smile.

  “So that’s why he killed the boy,” he said, half to himself. “Of course. I would have killed him myself.”

  There was a pause, then Lam-Than said in his matter-of-fact voice, “The thing we must find out is whether the American has really been kidnapped or is hiding - with the diamonds.”

  “Yes,” the Colonel said, nodding his bald head. “That is obviously something we should find out.”

  “And if he is hiding, with the diamonds,” Lam-Than went on, “we must find him and persuade him to give us the diamonds. It is said they are worth two million American dollars. That is a useful sum: a sum any man could happily retire on.” he looked intently at Colonel Khuc who stared back at him. “Certain mouths, of course, will have to be silenced; the cook and the girl. We shall have to find the American. The Inspector can find him, but it may be necessary after silencing the American, to silence the Inspector too.”

  Colonel Khuc stroked his smooth shaven jowls. His gross yellow face split into a genial smile.

  “As usual your reasoning is impeccable. I will leave the matter in your hands. See to it.”

  Lam-Than rehung the picture and put the chair back in its original position.

  At the Colonel’s signal, he opened the door and beckoned to the waiting Inspector.

  Chapter Six

  1

  The six a.m. Thudaumot-Saigon bus banged and jolted along the highway to Saigon. It was ladened with market produce that crowded its roof and sprouted out of the windows. Peasants, in their black working dress, were crammed into the bus like sardines in a tin. They clutched onto their wares, giggling nervously as each jolt of the bus threw them violently against their neighbours.

  Crushed between a fat old woman clinging to a large basket of cut sugar cane and an evil-smelling old man holding six brushes made of duck feathers, Nhan endured the jolting ride.

  She was scarcely aware of the discomfort. Her mind and her slight body was frozen in terror as she thought back on the events of the night.

  The cycle ride to Thudaumot had been a nightmare experience. During the last long mile, Steve had had to push her; her legs had become so weak it had been impossible for her to turn the pedals any longer.

  How thankful she had been to enter her grandfather’s house! How kind the old man had been to her! He had seen her terror and had soothed her, holding her in his arms, assuring her there was nothing to be so frightened about.

  While she had told him about Steve who had waited outside, her grandfather had continued to hold her, running his hand over her hair and petting her as he used to do when she had been very young until she had felt quite secure again and no longer terrified.

  Then Steve had come in and he and her grandfather had talked while she rested in the other room, staring up at the dark ceiling while she listened to the low drone of their voices.

  Her grandfather had come in to her after some time. He had said he would shelter Steve. There was nothing for her to worry about. Steve would now talk to her, but he wanted her to know she need not be frightened. He would take good care of her lover and he wanted her to know that he thought the big American would make her a most suitable husband.

  He had smiled, patting her hand.

  “I never thought the day would come when I should have such good news of you. There is no future in this country for you. It is only in America that you will find prosperity. There is, of course, still much to arrange, but it will come out right in the end. You will have to exercise patience and courage. You must remember that nothing worthwhile comes easily.”

  Then Steve had been impatient and curt, but Nhan had made allowances. He was in bad trouble and very worried. She didn’t expect kindness from him. Naturally, he had to think of himself.

  He had told her she must get back to Saigon as quickly as possible. He had already asked her grandfather about the buses back. There was one at six o’clock - in an hour’s time. She must go on that. On no account must she tell her mother or her uncle or her three brothers where she had been.

  Nhan sat huddled up against the wall, staring at Steve while he talked. Cold terror again paralysed her mind. She kept nodding her head as he talked, trying to appear to be listening intelligently. She wanted so desperately to be strong and win Steve’s approval, but she could see, as he talked to her, there was that exasperated, angry expression that came to his face whenever he talked to her about anything she didn’t grasp immediately.

  “Are you listening?” he demanded. “Don’t sit there, for Pete’s sake, looking like a damn mesmerized rabbit! All you have to tell them is we went to the river, we talked and I took you home at eleven o’clock. I drove away and you haven’t seen me since. That’s simple enough, isn’t it?”

  Was it? She thought with hopeless despair of her mother and her uncle when she tried to persuade them to believe that she had slept in her bed from eleven onwards when they would know she hadn’t slept in her bed at all. Her uncle was a simple and difficult man. He always waited up for her until she returned from Paradise Club. She knew she would have to talk for hours before there was a hope of persuading him that she had been in bed by eleven. Unless she told him the truth, and that was unthinkable, she didn’t think she could convince him.

  “Wake up!” Steve had said sharply, shaking her arm. “It’s simple enough, isn’t it?”

  Because she was afraid to excite his contempt, she had nodded dumbly.

  “And you mustn’t tell anyone about the diamonds,” he went on, lowering his voice. “No one. You understand that, don’t you?”

  Again she nodded.

  He made a movement of exasperation, then stood up and began to pace up and down the small room.

  “I’ll want some cigarettes,” he said. “Get me two hundred Luckies. I expect you’ll find a bus that comes out here this afternoon, and don’t forget to bring a newspaper with you.”

  Again she nodded.

  “I’ll probably have decided by the time you come again what I’m to do,” he went on. “Be careful of Blackie Lee. He’s certain to ask questions. I’ve got to decide if I can trust him or not. If he questions you, be careful you don’t let on where I am.” He had looked around the small, skimpily-furnished room. The quicker I’m out of this dump the better, but I mustn�
�t take risks… You rest for a while. You have nearly an hour before the bus goes. I’m going to get rid of those two bicycles.”

  He had started for the door. In a panic, Nhan had flung her arms around him.

  “Don’t leave me,” she had begged. “I’m frightened! Isn’t there some other way? Wouldn’t it be better to go to the police? If you gave them the…”

  “Stop it!” he had said roughly, pushing her away. “I told you: not a word about the diamonds! I’m keeping them! Do what I’m telling you and it’ll work out all right!”

  He had left her, her head in her hands, hopeless in her misery.

  Ten minutes before the bus was due to leave, just when it was beginning to get light, he had returned. He had told her he had dumped the two bicycles in the river.

  As the bus arrived at the Saigon Central Market, she thought of her parting with him. He had suddenly become tender, but his tenderness hadn’t reduced her terror. With him she was sure she could face anything, but to have to cope with this deception alone filled her with hopeless despair.

  As she hurried along the narrow streets towards her apartment, wondering how she could persuade her mother and her uncle to believe the lies she had to tell, Colonel On-dinh-Khuc was completing his instructions to Inspector Ngoc-Linh.

  He was saying that he had reason to believe that the American, Steve Jaffe, hadn’t been kidnapped by the Viet Minh. For reasons as yet unknown, Jaffe had murdered his houseboy. That was an established fact. It would be very convenient for Jaffe if it were believed he had been kidnapped. There was a possibility that Jaffe had gone into hiding and would attempt to leave the country, he must be prevented from doing so.

  The Inspector was to make inquiries. He was to satisfy the Colonel that either Jaffe had been kidnapped or was hiding. If he was in hiding, the Inspector was to discover his hiding place. When the hiding place was discovered, he was to make no move to arrest the American. He was to tell the Colonel where the American was hiding and the Colonel would then decide what action to take.

  Dong-Ham and My-Lang-To were to be taken to Security Police Headquarters. They were to talk to no one, but put in separate cells and to remain under lock and key until the Colonel interrogated them personally. Any information he obtained from them would be passed on to the Inspector to assist him in his search for the American.

  The Colonel would report to the President that the American had been kidnapped, and no doubt, the President would have this information conveyed to the American Ambassador. The Inspector should understand it would be against the interests of the State for the American Ambassador to be told that Jaffe had murdered his houseboy. This unfortunate incident must remain a secret, and the Colonel would hold the Inspector responsible for keeping it a secret.

  There was a pause, then the Colonel went on, “The body of the houseboy must be discovered near the police post. It will be presumed that he was with the American when they were attacked by the bandits. While the American was kidnapped, the boy was killed. Is that understood?”

  Inspector Ngoc-Linh’s small black eyes flickered, but he said stolidly, “It is understood, sir.”

  He watched Colonel Khuc and Lam-Than leave the villa, get into the police car and drive away. As soon as they had gone, he relaxed and moved around the room, his brownface puzzled. Then he looked at the picture on the wall. He pulled up a chair, stepped up on it and raised the picture. He stared at the hole in the wall, then he settled the picture back in its place, replaced the chair and moved thoughtfully across the room and into the kitchen.

  On the other side of the town in a small sparsely-furnished room, Nhan squatted in front of her mother and her uncle and explained for the second time what they were to say if the police questioned them about her whereabouts the previous night.

  Nhan’s mother was a tiny woman of forty-six. She had on a shabby wrap and her hair hung loose, framing her dried-up wrinkled face. She looked a lot older than her years. Her husband had been a waiter at the Majestic Hotel. He had been killed in a road accident some years ago and she had had a struggle to keep the home together which she had done by selling flowers in the market. It had been a fortunate thing when Blackie Lee had come to her and suggested that Nhan should work at his club. Since Nhan had been at the club, her mother had given up flower selling. She had even invited her brother to live with them.

  Her brother was considerably older than her. He was a fat, stupid man who told fortunes outside the Tomb of Marshal Le-van-Duyet. He wasn’t a good fortune teller and consequently he made very little money. He was glad to have free board and lodging.

  “If the police come here,” Nhan said, speaking slowly, “you must say that I came home at eleven and went to bed. It is most important that you should say this.”

  Her uncle squinted at her, frowning.

  “How can I say such a thing when you were out all night?” he finally asked. “I was here all the evening. Your bed hasn’t been slept in.”

  “That is true,” Nhan’s mother said. “Lies lead to trouble. We don’t want trouble in this house.”

  “If you don’t tell this lie,” Nhan said desperately, “there will be bad trouble in this house.”

  Her uncle put his hand under his coat and scratched his ribs.

  “If the police question me,” he said obstinately, “I shall say you were out all night. In this way I shall not become involved in your trouble. Your mother must also tell the truth. I have always thought that American would get you into trouble. I wish to have nothing to do with the matter.”

  “If you don’t do what I am asking you to do,” Nhan said hopelessly, “I shall lose my job and go to prison. There will be no money in the house at the end of the week and my mother will have to sell flowers again.”

  Her uncle blinked. This he hadn’t thought of. He might even have to leave this comfortable home.

  “No matter how wicked your daughter is, it would not be right for her to lose her job,” he said after some thought, addressing Nhan’s mother. “Besides, you have your sons to consider. If there is no money, who will feed them? Perhaps, after all, it would be better to tell this lie.”

  Her mother had no wish to sell flowers again. With a show of reluctance, she agreed that perhaps her brother was right.

  Watching them, Nhan saw with relief she had used the right tactics.

  “Then if the police ask you you will tell them I returned at eleven and remained in bed all night?” she asked.

  “If it will save this house the disgrace of you going to prison,” her uncle returned, “then we are compelled to tell this lie.” He turned to his sister. “Bring me the bamboo stick. This girl has a wicked devil in her. It is my duty to you and to your sons to drive this devil out of her.”

  Her mother got up and went to the cupboard where the bamboo stick was kept. Her brother used the stick often on her three sons. She felt it was right for him now to use on her daughter.

  2

  Colonel On-dinh-Khuc bit into an apple while he studied the typed questionnaire Lam-Tham had handed to him.

  The time was fifteen minutes past eight a.m. Much had been done since he had returned to headquarters. Dong Ham and My-Lang-To had been questioned. Haum’s body had been taken to the shattered police post and had been planted in the ditch near where the two Viet Minh bodies had been found. The President’s private secretary had been informed that the American had been kidnapped. The American Ambassador in his turn had been informed. Three officers of the U.S. Military Police had gone to the scene of the outrage where they busied themselves taking photographs, examining the Chrysler and consulting with the Vietnam police.

  The Colonel munched his apple as he studied Dong-Ham’s replies to the questions put to him by Lam-Than.

  “Not much here,” he said finally, putting the paper down on his desk. “We had better find this girl he mentions. She “probably knows nothing, but we’d better make sure. Someone is bound to know who she is and where she lives. Tell Ngoc-Linh to inquir
e at this club. They’ll probably know her name.”

  Lam-Than inclined his head.

  The Colonel dropped the apple core into the waste paper basket.

  “Nothing of any value in the girl’s report,” he went on. “It is unfortunate she insists that the houseboy is still in the villa. The old cook seems to think so too.” He looked up at Lam-Than. “When it is known the boy went with the American and was killed by the Viet Minh, these two could make difficulties. If the American police have an opportunity to question them, the situation could become involved.”

  Lam-Than had already thought of this difficulty.

  “The old man has no relations,” he said. “There would be no complications if he met with an accident. The girl has a mother and father, but providing the matter is handled with care she could also be removed without difficulty.”

  The Colonel stroked his fleshy jowls.

  “I’ll leave it to you,” he said. “Arrange something. It is better for the State to have no complications.”

  Lam-Than inclined his head. He picked up the two questionnaires and went out of the room.

  A little after eleven o’clock, Inspector Ngoc-Linh arrived at the Paradise Club.

  He was seen getting out of his car by Yu-lan, who pressed a button which lit up a red light in Blackie’s office, a warning that prepared him for the Inspector’s visit.

  The Inspector found him reading the morning’s newspaper.

  Blackie rose to his feet, bowed and offered the Inspector a chair. Yu-lan came in with two glasses of tea which she placed on the desk. She bowed and smiled at the Inspector who bowed in return, his face expressionless.

  When she had gone, the Inspector sipped his tea, passed a complimentary remark about its quality, then seeing Blackie was waiting, he said, “You know an American gentleman: Mr. Jaffe?”