Inspector O 04 - The Man with the Baltic Stare (6 page)

“End of the line,” he said.

“How far are we from my hotel?”

“Beats me,” he said. “This is your city, not mine. And as far as I’m concerned you can have it.” He put the jeep in gear and roared back through the tunnel.

I tried to orient myself, but there were no landmarks on the horizon to help. Off to the right, several new, tall buildings were going up. In front of me, an entire block had been leveled. A brief walk around convinced me that I was in the far western part of the city, some distance from the Taedong River and a long way from any subway stop that could get me back to the central district, close to my hotel.

When west, walk east. Maybe I’d run across a traffic cop whom I could ask for directions. They didn’t know much, but they could usually figure out which direction the river was. As far as I could tell, no one was following me. It didn’t really matter; in fact, it might be better if there was. If I got too lost, my tail might get tired and give me a ride back to the hotel.

I wasn’t in a hurry, I didn’t need to be anyplace particular, and the weather was good for a stroll. If I had to be in Pyongyang, a bright October morning was as good a time as any. The trees along the streets were turning color, and in an hour or so smoke from roasting chestnuts and sweet potatoes would be drifting from the kiosks. Already the air was painted with faraway hope. It was an autumn sky remembered from years past, always sparkling in anticipation—in anticipation of what I never understood. My grandfather said autumn was a party, that most trees acted foolishly drunk in the fall and then wept at their loss all winter long. He didn’t like evergreens, but he said at least they were sober.

I walked about a kilometer, taking in the sunshine and becoming more and more uneasy. The problem was that no matter which way I turned, Li’s warnings from the other night trailed beside me. No, I didn’t know what I didn’t know, but I was beginning to get a few ideas. Major Kim had extraordinary authority, he was from the South, and Pyongyang had the indefinable feel of a tiny planet beginning to wobble on its axis. There were more babies, more children being pushed in strollers, more couples walking together. The traffic ladies weren’t where they ought to be. There were fewer of them, and they were doing their ballet in the smaller intersections. They looked the same as ever—same blue uniforms, same pouty lips—but none of them blew their whistles when I crossed in the middle of the street instead of taking the underpass. Even the cranes at the construction sites had changed, the old, stubby dinosaurs replaced by long, graceful booms. It wasn’t only how things looked. It was how
they felt, how they fit together. A city can change in five years, I thought, but not like this. It wasn’t until I went up a long flight of stairs and crossed high over a train yard that the growing panic in my chest subsided. I stopped and looked down. Here, at least, the grime was familiar.

From the train yard, I knew, it wasn’t far to the subway entrance. A tall man leaned against the railing, watching the traffic.

“Don’t tell me,” I said. “You’re waiting for a bus.”

Li kept his eyes on the traffic. “My car is on the next street. Let’s go for a ride.”

“Let’s not. I’m getting out of here, compliments of Major Kim.”

“I’ll take a wild guess. He said he’d send a car for you tomorrow at your hotel.”

“He did.”

“And you believed him?”

“The man gave me soup for breakfast. How can I not believe him?”

“Never take soup from strangers, O—always sage advice. Let’s not stand around. It makes me nervous.”

I followed him to his car. “What makes you think Kim won’t have someone right behind you?”

“He will. He already does.” We pulled onto a busy street. “But he won’t for long. These people are very sure of themselves, very sure we are idiots.”

We turned left into a small alley, raced through the courtyard of an apartment complex, flew across a bridge, and ended up behind three small trucks in the parking lot of a blue-roofed market overflowing with people.

“Out, Inspector. You’re going to do a little shopping. Don’t look around; go right inside.”

“Am I missing something? I thought you worked for Kim.”

“See you later.”

Inside, the market was a crush of bodies. For a moment, in the
fruit section, I was stranded next to the bananas. Bananas! I gawked at them. Since when did normal people even in the capital have bananas to eat? Then a man pulled on my arm and I broke through the masses into a small office. The door shut behind me.

“You can wait here.” The man let go of my arm. A middle-aged woman with a baseball cap sat at a desk working a calculator. She frowned at the numbers. “Too many fucking zeros,” she muttered.

“Busy place,” I said. It was a cinch I was trapped, that Major Kim would come through the door at any moment, with one of his tanks close behind.

“Major Kim, if that’s what is worrying you, has meetings today.” The woman didn’t look up as she spoke. “He has a nine o’clock. Also, today is Thursday. He gets a haircut on Thursdays.”

“What about his minions?”

The woman turned and appraised me carefully, from head to toe. “His minions aren’t looking for trouble. They live a cushy life up here, and they don’t want to spoil things. If they make us mad, we’ll see that things get difficult for them. So they ease up when they sense we’re serious. Self-preservation ranks high on their list of priorities.”

“So, are we serious?”

The woman turned off the calculator and put it in a small cloth case before she stood up and looked directly into my eyes. “We are, Inspector. We are deadly serious. Are you?”

The man whispered in the woman’s ear. She gave him a little nudge and locked the door after him. “A question, Inspector.” She moved closer to me, so close that the brim of her cap touched my forehead. “There’s a question pending. Do you want to answer it? Or shall I answer it for you?” She was round, very confident about who she was.

“You asked the question,” I said. “Maybe you should answer it. Seems only fair.”

“You don’t act serious. You don’t sound serious. I don’t think
you are. But I think you will become serious, Inspector, sooner than you imagine. And I’ll tell you why—because there is no other way for you to survive.”

“Business is good?” I didn’t think I wanted to stay too long with this confident woman. I certainly didn’t want to slip into an extended conversation with her about survival, definitely not about my survival. “Maybe you should put up extra lights. Everyplace else in the city has more than enough. That way you can see how much the ladies behind the counter are stealing.”

“The real crooks are always somewhere else, Inspector. Do you know what is going on in your Ministry these days?”

“It isn’t my Ministry. I’m retired.”

“So you say. You gave me some advice. Now I’ll give you some: Open your eyes; look around.” She finally stepped back. “Someone will be in touch.” She unlocked the door and indicated I should leave.

I figured Major Kim would be waiting outside, but there was only a crowd of people around a table loaded with shoes. None of them looked my size, so I headed toward the exit. When I finally made it into the fresh air of the parking lot, an elbow jammed into my ribs.

“Got a match?” It was the bellboy from the hotel, grinning. “Didn’t think you’d be here with the rest of us poor stiffs. Want to buy something? I can show you around.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” I started to walk away, but he grabbed my shoulder. “Not so fast, Inspector. You want to stay right here for another minute or two.” He nodded toward the street that lay beyond the parked cars. Major Kim was craning his neck, searching the area.

“Is there another exit?” I shook off the bellboy’s hand and stepped back toward the market entrance.

“On the other side.”

Three young women formed a screen around me, pushed through the crowd, and deposited me on the other side. The bellboy
followed close behind. “There are a couple of taxis lined up near that apartment house across the street,” he said, “but I’d stay out of cabs if I were you.”

“You’re not me.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I’m lucky that way.”

When I got to the street, Li’s car came around the corner and stopped in front of me. “Don’t argue,” he said. “Get in.”

We drove for a few minutes before Li said anything else. “I don’t suppose you’re interested in knowing about Major Kim.” He rolled down his window. “You notice how stuffy it gets in a car this time of year?”

“No, I’m not interested in the major. I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. Clear enough?”

We turned into the hotel parking lot. A big blue car with two men in the front and all the windows open was waiting not far from the hotel entrance. One of the men jumped out and opened the rear door. A woman emerged from the restaurant attached to the hotel, walked straight to the car, and got in. The car pulled away in a hurry.

“I don’t suppose you’re interested in that, either.” Li watched the car disappear.

“Should I be?”

“The lady didn’t catch your eye? Very fashionable, don’t you think? Quite a looker.”

“Fashion was never my style. Expensive shoes, expensive coat, expensive scarf, that’s what it looked like from here. Everything looks expensive on a body like that.”

“So, who do you think wears expensive clothes these days?”

“Could be someone with money.” I got out of the car.

“What’s your hurry, Inspector? No way he’s going to let you go home. Incidentally, I hope you locked the front door on your mountain retreat. They took the guard off the road this morning.”

I got back in the car. “All right, you win. Who is Kim? I’m interested, after all. And you seem to know something you’re dying to tell me.”

“Wrong. I’m not dying for anyone, not anymore. That’s done with.”

“Who is Kim?”

“I’m not sure about everything, even though I’m in and out of his office. They don’t want us to know too much. He appeared about six months ago. After that, there were a lot of meetings up top, cars racing around, aircraft coming in at odd hours, street closings for high-speed convoys. I got pulled off my normal assignment and put into his group, or at least the group that sits up whenever he calls. We do a lot of bowing and scraping.”

“He’s a major. Since when do we cringe at majors?”

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, funny. He acts like he owns the place. This morning I met him in an office I never knew existed. You must know what it was before he got there. It wasn’t a Ministry building; we don’t have that many chairs.” I opened my window. “The air smells different in autumn, don’t you think?”

“I hadn’t noticed. I just breathe the stuff. And I intend to keep breathing.” He gave me a sharp look.

“Noble goal,” I said. The conversation was over. If he knew anything else, he was going to wait to tell me. Maybe it was actually everything he knew, though I had a feeling he had something he was saving. Everyone was saving something. The lady in the market, the bellboy, maybe even the ferret. “What about the lady?” I said.

“Which one?”

“The one with the nice shoes we were talking about.”

“Forget you saw her; forget you saw her come out of that restaurant and get into that car.”

“What car? I think you need to have your medication adjusted.”

He laughed. “You think I’m edgy, you should see the people in the Minister’s office.” He laughed again, only this time it came out more like dead leaves in the wind. Dead tree limbs, dead leaves—laughs weren’t what they used to be. We used to laugh a lot in the office. It helped sometimes.

“Give me a call,” I said, though I don’t think he heard me. His eyes were on the rearview mirror, watching a black car creep into the parking lot. As soon as I closed the door, he gunned the motor and was gone. The black car didn’t follow, though I was pretty sure the driver said something to the person in the back before he got out and looked at me. He was missing most of his left ear.

Strange, I thought. Nice-looking woman like that. It seems a shame to pretend she was never there.

When I went back into the hotel, the man with the vacant look was leaning against one of the pillars. He had on a red-checked shirt, but it didn’t make any difference. As he shifted his gaze to me, everything around him turned gray; foghorns sounded in the distance; seabirds lost their way and plunged into the ocean. I nodded at him, and it appeared that he blinked, like the lamp in a lighthouse that swings around every minute to keep ships off the rocks.

Things seemed jumpy, but not in the normal way. People had always looked over their shoulders, and no one thought twice about it. That’s why your neck swivels, we used to say, to see who’s following you. This was different.

“You’ve been away a long time,” Li said when we met in a noodle place the next day.

“A long time,” I said, “but not forever. I can still tell the difference between a routine twitch and something more serious.”

“You’re imagining things. Relax.”

Only I wasn’t imagining anything. Li was nervous; each time I’d met him over the past few days, he’d become more antsy. Kim was nervous, too. That was harder to spot. From the few times I’d seen him so far, he was good at cloaking himself in an unflappable air. People who were scared didn’t look too closely at the cloak. But Kim didn’t scare me, so I could afford to watch him carefully.