A Lotus For Miss Quon (6 page)

"If you want to come with me, you'll have to leave them. But skip it : we'll solve that one when we have to. I must find some safe place to stay for a week or so. Do you know anyone I can go to? Not in Saigon: somewhere outside."

She went off into a panic again.

"But you mustn't hide! You must go to the police!"

She began to beg him in a torrent of hysterical words to give up the diamonds, to go to the police, to tell them the truth.

He let her run on for a minute or so, then abruptly he stood up.

She stopped speaking and watched him, terror making her eyes large and glistening in the moonlight.

"Okay, okay," he said harshly. "If you don't want to help me, then I'll find someone who will. I'm not going to the police and I'm not giving up the diamonds!"

She shuddered and closed her eyes.

He felt sorry for her, but at the same time irritated and impatient. She was wasting precious time.

"I shouldn't have told you about this," he went on. "Come on: I'll drive you back to the club. You mustn't think any more about it. I'll find someone else to help me."

"I will help you!" she said wildly. "I'll come with you when you leave! I'll do anything you want!"

"Okay, now relax. Sit down. If someone sees us . . ."

She instantly released him and sat down. She was shaking and tears were running down her face. He sat by her side, not touching her and waited. After a while, she controlled herself and she timidly put her hand in his.

She said suddenly, "My grandfather has a house in Thudaumot. You would be safe there. I think I could persuade him to have you."

Jaffe drew in a long deep breath. He put his arm around her and hugged her.

"I knew you could help me," he said. "I was relying on you. It's going to be all right. In three or four months you and I will be in Hong Kong: we'll be rich."

She leaned against him, clutching his hand. He could feel she was still shaking

"I'll buy you a mink coat," he said. "That's the first thing we'll buy, and pearls. You'll look lovely in mink. You can have a car too: a car of your own."

"It will be very difficult for you to leave Vietnam," she said. "There are many restrictions and regulations."

He was irritated that she hadn't reacted to the dream-he had tried to create for her. Mink, pearls and a car! She should have been excited at such a prospect, but instead she was underlining the one problem he had no idea how to solve.

"First things first," he said. "Let's go and talk to your grandfather. I will pay him well. You mustn't tell him about the police. It would be better to say I have a political enemy who is looking for me."

"I will tell him the truth," Nhan said simply. "When he knows I love you, he will help you."

Jaffe shrugged.

"Well, all right. I'll leave it to you, but be sure he doesn't rush off to the police."

"He would never do anything to make me unhappy," Nhan said with so much hurt dignity that Jaffe felt slightly ashamed. "I can persuade him to help you."

Jaffe suddenly saw the snag in this plan.

Thudaumot was twenty-two kilometres outside Saigon. He remembered there was a police post on the road and all cars had to stop at the post for a police check. It would be fatal to his plans if his car was checked. When the police found Haum's body, they would check up on his car. As soon as they learned he had passed along the Thudaumot road, they would concentrate their hunt for him there.

"There's a police post on that road," he said. "This could be difficult."

Nhan stared at him, remaining motionless, waiting while he concentrated on a solution to this snag.

He realized after a moment's thought that his only hope of passing through the police post was to use another car and not his own. He did know cars with C.D. plates were rarely stopped at the police posts, and he immediately thought of Sam Wade and his big Chrysler car. If he could borrow the Chrysler he stood a good chance of covering his tracks.

From what Wade had said, he wouldn't be using the car tonight, but where was he? He knew he was holed up somewhere with the Chinese girl, but how could he find him?

He asked Nhan if she knew the girl and he described her.

"Yes, I know her," Nhan said, puzzled. "She dances at L'Arc-en-Ciel. Her name is Ann Fai Wah. She makes a lot of money going with Americans. She isn't a good girl."

"Do you know where she lives?"

Nhan thought for a moment then she said the had an idea the girl had an apartment off Hong Thap Tu.

Jaffe got to his feet. "Let's go," he said.

She stared blankly up at him. "You want to see Ann Fai Wah?" she asked indignantly. "Why? I will not go with you to that woman."

"Come on, come on," Jaffe said impatiently. "I'll explain on the way."

As he drove to the centre of the town, he explained about Wade's car.

"You'll have to drive it back, Nhan. Do you think you can manage?"

He had taught her to drive the Dauphine and she handled the small car very well, but he had no idea if she could cope with the big Chrysler.

She said firmly and with confidence that she would be able to drive the Chrysler.

They found the big car parked outside a block of luxury flats down a quiet, tree-lined road.

Jaffe told Nhan to wait in the Dauphine and he went over to the Chrysler. As he expected the doors were firmly locked and the windows up. He would have to get the keys from Wade and get his permission to use the car. He hoped Wade wasn't already in the sack with the Chinese girl.

He entered the block and learned from the indicator board the girl's apartment was on the fourth floor. He went up in the lift and as he paused outside her front door he glanced at his watch. The time was ten minutes past eleven.

He listened and thought he could hear faint dance music. He thumbed the bell and waited. There was a long pause, then he rang the bell again.

The front door opened on a chain and the Chinese girl looked inquiringly at him. He saw with relief that she was fully dressed. He smiled at her.

"Sorry to intrude, but I want to speak to Sam," he said. "It's urgent."

He heard Wade, somewhere out of sight, say, "What the hell? Here, get out of the way, baby."

The door pushed to, the chain was released and Wade appeared in the doorway, scowling.

The girl, with an elaborate shrug of her shoulders, went into the inner room and closed the door.

Wade looked a little drunk. He glared blearily at Jaffe.

"What the hell do you want?" he demanded. "How did you know I was here?"

"You told me — remember?" Jaffe said. "Sorry to bust in like this but I'm in a fix. Look, my damn car's broken down. I've got a girl waiting and I've got to cart her out to the airport. Can I borrow your car? I'll put it right back in a couple of hours."

"Why the hell don't you take a taxi?"

Jaffe gave him a sly grin.

"You don't and can't do what I intend to do to this girl in a taxi, brother. Come on, be a sport or she'll change her mind. I'd do the same for you."

Wade suddenly relaxed and matching Jaffe's grin, he fished out his car keys.

"You old sonofabitch," he said. "Who is she? Anyone I know?"

"I don't think so, but if she's any good, I'll introduce you. That's the least I can do."

You do that and take care of my car. I want it back here by seven tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Sam, you're a real pal." Jaffe took the keys. "Okay in there?" He nodded towards the closed door of the inner room.

"Looks all set," Wade said, lowering his voice. "We've got to the dancing stage. Another hour should see me approaching the home base."

"Good luck and thanks again," Jaffe said and moved to the lift.

"Same to you," Wade said, "and don't forget that introduction."

He watched Jaffe descend out of sight in the lift, then he stepped back into the apartment and closed the door.

"You'll have to bring the Chrysler back here," he said, putting his hand on her arm and hurrying her across the road to Wade's car. "Do you think you'll be able to find your way back here on your own?"

"Yes."

"Good girl. It's a dead easy car to drive."

He opened the door of the Chrysler and she slid across the bench seat to the far side and he got in under the steering wheel. He put the key in the ignition and explained to her how to start the car.

"There's nothing to it. The gears are automatic. You just shift this lever to drive, take off the brake and give her gas."

He moved the car from the kerb and started slowly down the road.

"I'm going to drive past my place," he told her. "Keep a look out on your side. If that girl's gone, I want to get some clothes. I don't know how long it'll be before I can get away. I must have a change."

She didn't say anything. She sat as if she were stunned. He looked sharply at her. Her face was a blank mask of misery.

"Did you hear what I said?" he said sharply. "I'm relying on you, Nhan. If I'm going to get out of this mess, neither of us can make mistakes."

"I understand," she whispered.

It took a few minutes to reach the street where he lived. As he turned into the dimly-lit, tree-lined street, he said, "Watch out! You look right. I'll look left. She's wearing white."

As he passed his small villa, he saw the place was in darkness. He could see no sign of anyone.

"Okay?" he asked, slowing down.

"I saw no one."

He swung the car into a side street and pulled up.

"Wait here," he said. "I'll walk back and have another look. If it's still okay, I'll go in and pack a bag. I won't be longer than ten minutes. Just wait here."

He set off back to the corner where he paused to look down the long deserted street. Then walking quickly, aware that his heart was beginning to thump, he advanced towards his villa.

He thought: this may be a stupid move. I could be walking into a trap. For all I know, that girl has called the police and they've found Haum and are waiting for me. But I've got to have a change of clothes and my shaving kit. I just don't know how long I'll be holed up in Thudaumot.

As he approached his villa, he looked searchingly for the girl or Dong Ham, but the street was empty. He paused at the gates and again looked to right and left. Then he gently lifted the latch, pushed open the gate entered and closed the gate behind him. He walked silently up the drive and to the back of the villa. Here he paused, keeping in the shadows and looked across the courtyard to the servants' quarters. No light showed. The door to the cookhouse was closed.

He thought: they've got fed up with waiting. She's gone home, and he's gone to bed.

He returned to the front door. Taking out his key, he unlocked the door and stepped into the stuffy darkness. He shut and locked the door, then paused to listen. There came "no sound to alarm him, and without turning on the light, he groped his way up the stairs and to his bedroom. The door was locked as he had left it. He inserted the key, pushed open the door and paused to listen. The cold air from the air-conditioner came out and greeted him, cooling his sweating face. He entered the room, shut the door and turned on the light. The room was exactly as he had left it, and he grinned sheepishly as he realized how frightened he had been on the way up the dark stairs.

He looked at the clothes closet. His clothes were in there and so was Haum. This was no time to be squeamish. The quicker he got out of the villa and back to the Chrysler, the better.

He took a leather and canvas holdall from the top of the closet and tossed it on the bed. Then he went into the bathroom, collected his toilet kit, soap and two towels which he put in the holdall. From his chest of drawers, he took handkerchiefs, socks and three shirts. As he picked the shirts out of the drawer, he saw the gun. He looked at it for a long moment, startled.

He had bought this gun from a newspaper man who had been in Saigon during the early air raids. He had told Jaffe he had taken the gun from a soldier who had been killed by bomb blast.

"I'm going home now," the "newspaper man said. "You never know in this place. A gun can come in very handy. You can have it for twenty bucks."

Jaffe had bought it. He had never anticipated having to use it, but at that time hand grenades were still occasionally being thrown and everyone was still pretty jumpy and it seemed the sensible thing to do to buy the gun.

He kept his eyes up so he didn't see Haum on the floor, but he was aware of the faint but unmistakable smell of death, and he felt slightly sick.

Hurriedly, he grabbed from the clothes rack a dark tropical suit, khaki drill trousers and a khaki drill coat-shirt. He shut the closet door and locked it.

He folded the clothes and put them in the holdall. He was now ready to leave. He picked up the holdall and left the room, turning off the light. He paused to lock the door, then he groped his way into the darkness.

The contrast between his cold bedroom and the oven-heat of the hall brought him out into a violent sweat. He suddenly needed a drink and that reminded him he had a bottle of Scotch which might come in useful.