A Lotus For Miss Quon (15 page)

Colonel Khuc looked at Inspector Ngoc-Linh with cold, angry eyes.

"You still have no idea whether the American has been kidnapped or is in hiding?" he asked.

"No, sir," the Inspector admitted. "I am still trying to trace this girl who used to visit the American. She may be able to help us."

"This Lieutenant is a trouble-maker," the Colonel said. "Be careful how you deal with him. Now go and find this woman.

When the Inspector had gone, the Colonel rang for Lam-Than.

"Lieutenant Hambley will probably ask to visit Jaffe's villa tomorrow for another look around. He is suspicious," the Colonel said. "It is essential of course that he doesn't come across the hole in the wall."

Lam-Than permitted himself a smile.

"Three hours ago, sir," he said, "the wall was repaired. It was done by my brother who is skilled in such matters, and can be trusted."

The Colonel grunted.

"Ngoc-Linh hasn't found the woman yet," he said. "Have you any ideas how we can trace her?"

"If there is anyone who knows who she is it is the owner of the Paradise Club. He knows all the women who consort with Americans," Lam-Than said. "We could arrest and question him."

"The Inspector has already questioned him."

Lam-Than's eyes lit up viciously.

"If we had him here, no doubt we could persuade him to talk."

The Colonel hesitated, then reluctantly shook his head.

"This man is well known to the Americans. It would be dangerous to arrest him — yet. We must be careful. If we have to, then we will do so, but we'll see if Ngoc-Linh can find her first." He stroked his flat nose. "Are you sure the American can't slip out of the country?"

"Every exit is being watched," Lam-Than said.

The Colonel rubbed his bald head.

"He is armed."

"Our men have been warned. He will be shot at sight."

"But if the diamonds are found on him?"

Lam-Than smiled.

"I will recover them," he said.

Tint following morning Nhan caught the nine o'clock bus to Thudaumot. She had with her a basket containing a number of American magazines, three paper-back novels and the morning's newspapers. These were carefully concealed under some groceries and vegetables she had bought before catching the bus.

She had passed a worrying night. Carried away by Steve's plans, it was not until she was in bed and sufficiently relaxed to think seriously of her future with him that she began to realize the difficulties. The thing that worried her most was what would become of her mother, her uncle and her three brothers if she went to Hong Kong with Steve. They completely relied on her to provide the family income. She would have to talk to Steve about this. Unless he had some practical suggestion, she didn't see how she could leave them.

At least she had lost some of her terror. She had read the newspapers. The police seemed convinced that Steve had been kidnapped. There was no mention of the diamonds. She couldn't understand how Haum had been found in the ditch, but this she thought was very good for Steve. There was no question now of the police thinking he had killed Haum. She wondered about Steve's meeting with Blackie Lee. There were so many things to discuss with Steve. She was so impatient to be with him again!

Jaffe was also impatient to see her. He had been pacing the tiny room and continually looking at his watch. When he heard the bus coming, he went to the window and watched as it pulled up outside the lacquer factory.

There were very few people on the bus. He saw Nhan get off. She was wearing an electric-blue tunic over her white trousers, and no hat. The sight of her gave him a little jolt of sentiment.

When she came into the room, he held her close to him, gently touching her face with his lips while she relaxed against him, smiling, her eyes closed. She let him fondle her for some moments, then she reached up and kissed him. "I have brought the papers," she said. They sat on the bed side by side, her head against his shoulder while he quickly scanned the badly set type.

It gave him an odd sinking feeling to see his name in print. The paper told him nothing he hadn't already learned from Blackie the previous night. As he expected, there was no mention of the diamonds. A quick look at the other paper confirmed this.

But unlike Nhan, he wasn't fooled by the police statement that he had been kidnapped by bandits and was probably dead. He was sure they were secretly searching for him, hoping to find him alive. They could not tell, of course, if he had been kidnapped or not, but he was quite sure that someone in authority knew about the diamonds and would continue to hunt for him until that someone had convincing proof he was dead and the diamonds out of reach.

"You see," Nhan said, "it is going to be all right. They don't know what happened to Haum. They don't know about the diamonds. They think you were kidnapped. It's good, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's good," he lied. There was no point in frightening her until he had to. He went on to tell her about his meeting with Blackie. "He has agreed to let me take you with me," he concluded. "It could be fixed by the end of the week. Who knows? In ten days, possibly less, we could be in Hong Kong."

He saw her face cloud.

"What's the matter? You want to go to Hong Kong with me, don't you?"

Yes, she wanted to go, she said, but she had others to think of beside herself. There were her mother, her uncle and her three brothers. There would be no real happiness for her if she deserted them and left them to look after themselves.

"Don't worry about that," he said. "I'll fix it. I'll get a lawyer in Hong Kong to arrange an allowance for them. Once we get out of here, I'll be rich. You don't have to worry about them, kid. I'll fix it."

While they were talking, Lieutenant Hambley and Inspector NgocLinh were standing in the large sitting-room of Jaffe's villa.

Hambley had gone all over the villa with a thoroughness that had made the Inspector uneasy.

"I knew there was more to it than kidnapping," Hambley said, staring at the Inspector. "This guy was running away. I've checked with Pan Am. and I've dug out the record of his luggage when he first arrived here. He had three suitcases. One is missing. His shaving kit is missing. When he left here he took all his money." He pointed his finger at the Inspector. "Jaffe was on the run. He never intended to come back here. That's why he borrowed Wade's car. He hoped he could bluff his way out with C.D. plates."

This could be very awkward, the Inspector was thinking, if Hambley pursued this theory. He must convince this over-smart Lieutenant that his theory was wrong.

"I should like to speak frankly with you," he said. "You haven't been in Saigon very long, have you, Lieutenant?"

Hambley stared at him.

"What's that got to do with it?"

"If I remember rightly, you came here two months ago. Two months is a very short time to get to understand the mentality and the methods of our enemy."

Hambley shifted. He had been aware ever since he had arrived in Saigon that he wasn't properly equipped for the job he had to do. It irritated him that he was unable to speak the language and had to work through interpreters all the time. He was continually finding the Vietnamese mentality utterly baffling.

"I don't get any of this," he said aggressively. "What are you driving at?"

"On the other hand," the Inspector went on, ignoring the interruption, "we have had years of experience with these bandits. We know the sole purpose of their activities against us is to create political trouble. Nothing could please them more than to upset the good relations between your country and mine or create an unsavoury incident that would have repercussions in the world press.

Hambley became aware it was very hot in the room and that he was sweating. He took out his handkerchief and mopped his puzzled face.

"At the meeting last night," the Inspector went on, "you raised several interesting points that you said were both mysterious and sinister. You were right in saying they were mysterious, but wrong to say they were sinister."

"Don't you think it's sinister that the girl was killed as she left your headquarters and the cook has disappeared?"

"The cook hasn't disappeared," the Inspector said gravely. "He was found a few hours ago in the river."

Hambley started. "He's dead?"

"Oh yes, he's dead."

"I suppose you're going to tell me he committed suicide?" Hambley said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Well, this makes it even more sinister. The houseboy, his girl and now the cook — all dead. Each of them would have been able to have given me a lead. It's damn sinister!"

The Inspector smiled patiently.

"If I were in your place, Lieutenant, I would think the same thing, but with the information I have, it is not sinister at all. It would appear to be the most natural sequence of events imaginable."

"Look, suppose we cut the cackle and get down to facts? If you know so much, let's hear what it is!"

"The key to this apparent mystery," the Inspector said smoothly, "is that Haum, his girl and Dong Ham were agents of Viet Minh. Once you know that, the situation is neither mysterious nor sinister."

Hambley felt suddenly deflated and unsure of himself. To give himself time to think, he took out a pack of cigarettes and lit one.

"Why didn't you say so at the meeting?" he demanded.

"My dear Lieutenant, if I had known then I would naturally have said so, but it was only this morning that I learned of this."

"How did you learn it?"

"There are many Viet Minh agents in Saigon. Every now and then some of them realize how much better life is here than in Hanoi. They become converts. It is through these converts we get some of our information. This particular informant was unwilling to give Haum, the girl and Dong Ham away while they were alive, but when he learned they were dead, he came to me and told me all had been active agents of the Viet Minh."

Hambley groaned to himself. He was sure he was getting tangled up in a web of lies, but all the same, he would now have to step warily. This fantastic story just could be true.

"But what has all this to do with Jaffe's disappearance?" he asked. "You're not going to tell me Jaffe was a Viet Minh agent too, are you? Because frankly, if you do, I won't believe it."

The Inspector shook his head.

"Oh no, Lieutenant, nothing as childish as that. Tell me, what do you know about Mr. Jaffe? He is a countryman of yours. He has lived in Saigon for three years. What sort of man would you say he is or perhaps it would be more correct to say what sort of man would you say he was?"

Hambley had never met Jaffe to talk to. He had seen him a few times over a period of two months in various bars and nightclubs, but he had never taken enough interest in him to inquire about him. He realized with angry irritation that he knew absolutely nothing about ,Jaffe.

Watching him, the Inspector was pleased the way the conversation was going. This over-smart young man was being steadily pushed on the defensive. He wasn't nearly so sure of himself as he had been.

"Well, I know he was a pretty successful business man," Hambley hedged. "He hasn't been in trouble as far as I know, He. . ."

"I mean what sort of private life did he lead, Lieutenant?" the Inspector interrupted. "It is only by a man's private life that he should be judged."

Hambley wiped his face again.

"I know nothing of his private life," he admitted sullenly.

The Inspector was now ready to produce one of several aces his agile mind had created during this conversation.

"You mentioned that Mr. Jaffe had drawn all his money out of the bank," he said. "This withdrawal was done hurriedly and on a Sunday evening and through two hotels since the bank was shut. To you, Mr. Jaffe's action suggested a man in flight. Would you not say, however, that there could be another explanation for his action?"

Hambley looked startled. He felt the blood rise to his face.

"You mean blackmail?"

"Exactly. I myself would say this is an action of a man under pressure and in need of a large sum of money and when a situation like that arises I always think of blackmail."

"I had no reason to think Jaffe was a man who could be blackmailed," he said slowly. "Have you any good reason to think so?"

The Inspector appeared to hesitate.

"Yes, unfortunately, Mr. Jaffe was without any doubt a pervert and a degenerate."

Hambley stared at him. "What makes you say that?"

"There is a very simple explanation why he wanted to borrow Mr. Wade's car and I assure you it had nothing to do with the car being equipped with C.D. plates. For some time now, Mr. Jaffe has been seen by my men trying to pick up girls in his car. For several weeks, he was unsuccessful. It seems to me to be an acceptable theory that, frustrated by his lack of success he might easily have blamed his failure on the smallness of his Dauphine rather than on the decency of the girls he tried to molest. I think Mr. Jaffe borrowed Mr. Wade's big and rather ostentatious car in the hope of changing his luck. After all he did mention to Mr Wade he wished to use the car for an immoral purpose."

Hambley stubbed out his cigarette.

"If he was annoying women in the streets," he said curtly, "why didn't your men pick him up?"

The Inspector lifted his shoulders.

"We naturally avoid arresting Americans where we can. The girls paid no attention to him. They came to no harm, and there was no official complaint made, so our men sensibly took no action although a report was sent to me."