A Lotus For Miss Quon (22 page)

Yo-Yo looked at the money in his dirty hand and then he winked at Blackie.

"Some have good luck, some bad. I'm sorry for you, Mr. Blackie," and he went out.

As soon as the door had shut, Blackie got quickly to his feet and went to the window. Cautiously, he peered through the closet shutters. He could see the Citroen down in the street. He couldn't see who was sitting in it, but whoever it was was smoking. He could see a spiral of tobacco smoke drifting out of the open window of the car.

What did it mean? he asked himself. Why were they watching him? Did they suspect he was in touch with Jaffe? Or were they watching him in the hope he would lead them to Nhan? Or was it something that had nothing to do with Jaffe?

He moved away from the window, taking out his handkerchief to wipe his sweating face. Cold panic crawled up his spine. If it hadn't been for that little rat, Yo-Yo, he would have gone out in another ten minutes to collect the gun and the silencer. If they had caught him with that, he would have gone away for two years.

He went slowly over to his desk and sat down. He had better remain in his office, he told himself. Yu-lan could collect the gun. He thought with envy of Charlie, safe in the Dakota taking him to Phnom-Penh. Should he warn Charlie the police were on the watch? He hesitated, then decided to wait a little while. Maybe this had nothing to do with Jaffe. Maybe someone had talked about the little currency deal he had engineered a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps that was why the police were watching him.

He got up and went to a cupboard and poured himself out a stiff drink of whisky, then he returned to his desk and wrote a hurried note. He took from his wallet several notes which he put in the envelope together with the letter he had written, sealed the envelope and addressed it.

Then he went out into the dance hall where Yu-lan was arranging flowers.

"Take this letter to Fat Wo," Blackie said to her. "Take shopping basket with you. Buy some fruit and vegetables. Fat Wo will give you a parcel. Put the parcel under the fruit and vegetables and then come back here."

"What is in the parcel?" Yu-lan asked, her eyes anxious.

"It is no affair of yours," Blackie said. "Go at once. The matter is very urgent."

Yu-lan hesitated, then seeing he was in no mood to tolerate disobedience, she went away to fetch the shopping basket.

Blackie returned to his office. He finished the whisky and felt less nervous. He stood at the window watching Yu-lan as she walked briskly down the street to Fat Wo's restaurant. No one followed her. The man in the Citroen continued to smoke. Blackie waited by the window. Twenty minutes later, he saw Yu-lan returning, the shopping basket loaded with vegetables. He met her at the door of the club as she came in.

"Did you get it?" he asked.

She set down the basket, lifted out some of the vegetables and hauled out a parcel securely wrapped in brown paper and tied with string.

"What is happening?" she asked. "I am worried. You are planning something. May I not know?"

He took the parcel.

"No," he said. "This is a matter for men."

He went into his office, shut and bolted the door and then opened the parcel. The .38 automatic with its long silencer pleased him. He checked the magazine, then going to his safe, he locked the gun away.

Two more days, he thought, before we get the diamonds. It seemed an eternity to have to wait. He went to the window again and peered through the shutters. The Citroen was still there.

While he stood watching the car and wondering what this police attention could mean, Inspector Ngoc-Linh was standing before Colonel On-dinh-Khuc's desk, making a report about the dead policeman found in a ditch on the Thudaumot road.

The time was half past three. The policeman's body had only just been found. He had been missing since he had left the police post at tenthirty the previous evening. He had been detailed to watch Blackie Lee's car. The Inspector couldn't make up his mind whether bandits had killed the policeman or if Jaffe had killed him.

The Colonel wasn't interested in the dead policeman. During the morning, he had had a disturbing conversation with LamThan. Lam-Than had warned him his sands were now rapidly running out. One of Lam-Than's spies at the Presidency had told Lam-Than that the group opposing the Colonel had finally convinced the President to take action against him. By the end of the week he would no longer be Head of Security Police. He would have been dismissed instantly only the man who was to succeed him was in Paris, and until he returned in three days, no action against the Colonel could be taken.

Three days! the Colonel was thinking as he half-listened to the Inspector's report. If this rumour were true he had only three more days in which to lay his hands on the diamonds and get out of the country.

"Where is this taxi-dancer?" he said. "How much longer do I have to wait?"

"She will return to her home at six," the Inspector said. "At ten minutes past six, sir, she will be in this room."

The Colonel stared at him, his little eyes glittering.

"I will hold you to that statement," he said. "If she is not here by ten minutes past six, you will regret having been born."

There was a pause, then the Inspector said, "The man, Blackie Lee, took his brother to the airport this morning. The brother flew to PhomPenh. He has a return ticket and arrives back here tomorrow morning. These two men know something about Jaffe. I respectfully suggest they should now be arrested and questioned.

The Colonel shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "Give me the girl. She will tell me what I want to know. Just give me the girl."

Nhan woke from a sound and dreamless sleep. She lay without moving, looking up at the wooden ceiling as she listened to the faint sounds of passing people and an occasional car in the road outside the villa.

The little room was very hot. She felt drowsy and relaxed. She turned her head to look at Steve sleeping beside her. Then moving gently so as not to wake him, she half sat up to look at his wrist-watch lying on the table beside her. The time was four o'clock. She lay back with a contented sigh.

The bus to Saigon left at fifteen minutes past five. It would get her to the Central Market at five-to-six. She would be home by six in time to prepare supper for her brothers.

For the moment her fears had drained out of her. Jaffe's skilful lovemaking had satisfied her body and relaxed her mind.

She stretched her long naked legs with another sigh of content and she put her hands over her small breasts, pressing her elbows into her tiny waist.

Steve stirred. He opened his eyes, blinked, then seeing her watching him, he smiled.

"Hello, Mrs. Jaffe," he said and dropped his hand onto her. "What's the time?"

She looked adoringly at him. He couldn't have said anything nicer to her than that simple "Hello, Mrs. Jaffe."

"It's only four."

He slid his arm under her shoulders and pulled her to him.

"How glad I'll be to get out of here," he said, absently stroking her flank. "Thirty-one more hours. It's damned funny really how in a few hours one's whole life can change. In thirty-one hours you and I will be in a helicopter. Have you ever been in a helicopter?"

"No."

"Nor have I. This will be the first of many new experiences we are going to share together." He saw the worried expression come into her eyes and he shook his head, smiling at her. "The first thing we'll do when we get to Hong Kong is to find a lawyer to get your family fixed. You're worrying about them, aren't you?"

"A little. They will be very sad when I leave them."

"They'll get over it." He lay quiet for some moments, then, "You won't change your mind and stay here with me? Your grandfather can go and tell your family you're leaving with me to get married. I'll give him the money for a taxi. Come on, Nhan, change your mind. Let's get to know each other. We shall have thirty-one hours in this little room to talk. We should know each other pretty well after thirty-one hours' talking shouldn't we?"

"Yes."

She was tempted to stay. It was strange, she thought, when I am with him, I'm not frightened. With him, holding me, I can really believe that I shall go to Hong Kong with him and I shall stay at the best hotel and have a car of my own and a necklace of pearls as he promised. Not that I want anything really except him.

She wrestled with temptation to stay. Her three brothers didn't like her grandfather. She never knew quite why. It wouldn't do for him to go to them and tell them she was leaving Saigon and wouldn't see them for a long time. They relied on her. They would miss her so much. It was her duty to explain why she was leaving them herself.

"I must go, Steve," she said, looking anxiously at him. "I want to stay, but as I am leaving them and going to live with you, it wouldn't be right not to tell them myself."

"I guess that's right." Jaffe bent and kissed her. "You're a funny kid, Nhan. I admire you for being able to feel that way. I couldn't: it's not in me."

"You are very kind."

"No, I'm not," Jaffe said, frowning. "I'm in love with you. I wasn't kind even to you before I learned to love you. Now it's easy to be kind to you, but not to anyone else." He got off the bed and slipped on his shorts, then crossing to his canvas hold-all, lying on the floor, he opened it and took out the typewriter ribbon container and came back to her. "Lie still," he said and opening the container, he gently spilled the diamonds into the little hollow between her breasts.

She lifted her head and looked at the diamonds sparkling like fireflies on her brown skin. They felt cold, and she suppressed a shiver as Jaffe very carefully moved them with his fingers, making a little pattern with them.

"They're terrific, aren't they?" he said. "Look at them! I'll be sorry to sell them. I'll pick the best of them and I'll have it mounted on a ring for you."

The feel of the diamonds against her skin gave her the same feeling of horror she once had when, lying in the long grass, a snake had slid over her naked legs. Then, she had sprung to her feet, screaming. Now, seeing the pleasure the diamonds lying between her breasts gave him, she fought down the horror and controlled the impulse to sweep them off her body and scream.

But she couldn't hide the sudden tensing of her muscles and Jaffe, puzzled, scooped up the diamonds and put them back into the tin.

"I wonder if I'll ever learn to understand you, Nhan," he said. "One second you're happy and relaxed, the next you're scared out of your wits. I'd like to know what goes on in that funny mind of yours."

She rubbed her hand between her breasts as if trying to get rid of the feel of the diamonds. "I wonder sometimes what goes on in your mind too, Steve."

"I guess." He looked at the diamonds before putting the lid on the tin. "These stones give me more pleasure than anything else in the world — except you."

"I'm glad."

She slid off the bed. She couldn't bear to talk about the diamonds a moment longer. If it hadn't been for those hard sparkling stones, Haum would still be alive and this nightmare that was happening to them both wouldn't be happening.

"I must get dressed. I don't want to miss the bus."

"There's time." He stretched out on the bed and lit a cigarette while he watched her slip into her clothes. As she went over to the mirror to tidy her hair, he said, "You understand what to do, Nhan? There must be no mistake. Blackie will call for you at ten o'clock tomorrow night. He will bring you to the old temple. I'll be there at eleven. Don't bring too many things . . . just a small suitcase. I'll buy everything you want when we get to Hong Kong."

"I understand."

She put her comb back into her bag, then from the bag, she took out a small object and came over to him. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking seriously at him.

"I want you to keep this until we meet again."

"What is it?"

She took his hand and put the object into it. Frowning, he held it up to examine it. It was a tiny Buddha carved in ivory.

"It belonged to my father," she said. "It will protect you from harm. It is very powerful, Steve. Keep it with you. So long as you have it, no harm will come to you."

"I'll keep it," he said. It didn't occur to him the sacrifice she was making by giving the Buddha to him. All her life she had kept this little ivory carving. She relied on it for comfort: parting with it was giving away her most important and valuable possession. He put the Buddha on the table by his watch. "Well, kid, it won't be long now." He sat up, putting his arm around her. "I'll be waiting for you. Don't look so serious. It's going to be all right."

"Yes. I must go." She touched his face with her fingers, then leaning forward she kissed his mouth. "Good-bye, Steve."

He went with her to the door. "In another thirty and a quarter hours," he said and smiled down at her. "So long till then." He gave her a little hug, then stood back and watched her go swiftly down the stairs.

She didn't look back.

He went over to the window and watched her walk down the dusty road. He admired her neat, upright carriage and the way she held her head.

During the drive back to Saigon, Nhan's mind became a torment of fear, apprehension and indecision. Without Steve's strength and confidence to support her, she felt lost and frighteningly alone.

After she had prepared supper for her three brothers, she told herself, she would go to the pagoda of Dakao and spend the night in prayer. She would light four candles. She wished now she hadn't given Steve her Buddha. She didn't think he would value it, and she felt lost without it. She was glad when the bus finally pulled up at the Central Market. She walked quickly along the pavement crowded with food vendors selling Chinese soup, the juice of sugar cane and dried meats. One vendor held out a stuffed snake towards her, grinning as she shied away, turning her head and quickening her steps. The evening sun was hot. The road crowded with hooting motorcars,
pousse-pousse
and bicycles created a strident violent movement that beat on her nerves. As she approached her apartment block, she didn't notice the black Citroen parked a few yards from the entrance to the block. Inspector Ngoc-Linh sat in the car, a plainclothes detective at his side. Both men were smoking. The Inspector kept looking at his watch uneasily. The time was one minute past six.