James Chase - A Lotus for Miss Quon

“I think they would, Mr. Blackie,” Yo-Yo said and a hard note came into his voice. “I want 20,000 piastres.”

Blackie looked at him for a long moment, then he got to his feet.

“Wait here,” he said, “and keep your hands off my things.”

He went out closing the door after him. He crossed to a door leading to his living-quarters at the back of the club, ignoring Yu-lan who was looking anxiously at him from across the hall. He went to Charlie’s bedroom and entered.

There was a flickering nightlight under a large photograph of Blackie’s and Charlie’s father that stood on a shelf on the wall. The nightlight provided enough light for Blackie to see his brother sleeping in the bunk across the room.

As Blackie shut the door, Charlie opened his eyes and sat up.

“What is it?” Charlie asked.

Quietly Blackie told him of his meeting with Jaffe.

“He has the diamonds,” he said. “He has given me one more.”

Charlie held out his hand and Blackie gave the screw of paper containing the diamond. Charlie examined the stone and nodded.

“This is another of mine,” he said. “He agrees to the price?”

Yes.”

“I fly to Phnom-Penh tomorrow morning.”

“There is a complication,” Blackie said and told Charlie about Yo-Yo.

“These things happen,” Charlie said philosophically. “You must pay him. He’ll come back for more, of course. When we have the diamonds we may have to do something about him, but not until we have the diamonds.”

“That’s what I thought. All right, I’ll pay him.”

“Do you think he’ll go to the police after you have paid him? He might be tempted to try for the reward as well.”

“No, he won’t do that,” Blackie said. “The police know too much about him. I don’t think they would give him anything: he knows that as well as I do.”

Charlie nodded.

Then pay him.”

NHAN had passed a bad night. She had had a dream that had terrified her.

As soon as she had got her three brothers off to school and before her uncle had got out of bed, she took a pousse-pousse to the Tomb of Marshal Le-van-Duyet. At the entrance she bought an assortment of vegetables and fruit as gift offerings. She entered the Temple and laid her gifts among the other gifts already on the long table.

She knelt and prayed for some time, and then calmer in mind, she bought two candles, lit them and fixed them to the already overcrowded candle rack.

Then kneeling, she picked up a quiver containing a number of strips of thin wood, each strip bearing a number. Very gently and carefully she began to shake the quiver in both hands until one strip of wood toppled out and fell on the stone floor. She looked at the number and noted it was 16. She went over to a numbered rack on the wall and drew from a pigeon-hole numbered 16 a strip of pink paper.

She took this strip of paper to an old man who was sitting at the entrance to the tomb. He was one of the five fortunetellers attached to the tomb. He read what was printed on the pink paper, then he stared at Nhan for some minutes. He was the best as well as the oldest fortuneteller at the Tomb and Nhan had great faith in him.

He told her that she must be very careful what she did during the next two days. These two days, he said, were the most critical of her life. After the two days, she would have no need of fear, but it would be better for her to return home and pray and keep on praying until the two days had elapsed.

Instead of returning home, Nhan caught the nine o’clock bus to Thudaumot. She felt an urgent need to be with Steve to feel his arms around her. He could, she felt, give her more comfort and more hope than prayer.

While the bus was leaving the Central Market for Thudaumot, Lieutenant Hambley was arriving at his office. He found on his desk a number of files and a request for a comprehensive report on the pilfering of stores belonging to the Embassy. The report and the files would keep him fully occupied for at least two days, and as he got down to work, he remembered that he was to have gone to the Tomb of Marshal Le-van-Duyet to talk to Nhan Lee Quon’s uncle.

Well, I can’t do everything, he told himself. I’ll give her name to Ngoc-Linh and he can handle it.

It wasn’t until eleven o’clock when his secretary brought him a cup of coffee that he paused in his work to telephone the Inspector.

“Your theory that Jaffe was a degenerate is so much baloney,” Hambley said when the Inspector came on the line. “I have talked to his friends and there’s no evidence at all that he was queer or that he chased girls. He had a regular girl. You’d better talk to her. She’ll tell you there was nothing wrong with the guy.”

The Inspector, listening, half closed his eyes with exasperation.

“If I could find the girl, Lieutenant,” he said, controlling his irritation, “I would most certainly talk to her, but I don’t know who she is and I can’t find out who she is.”

Hambley grinned to himself.

“You surprise me, Inspector. I had no trouble finding out who she is. I got her name from that Chinese tart you found Wade with. As easy as that.”

The Inspector leaned forward, gripping the telephone. “Who is she?”

“She’s a taxi-dancer at the Paradise Club,” Hambley said. “Her name’s Nhan Lee Quon. I don’t know where she lives, but I do know her uncle is a fortune-teller at Marshal Levan-Duyet’s tomb. He’ll tell you where to find her.”

The Inspector drew in a long breath.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, I will act on your suggestion,” and he hung up.

For a long moment he sat still, staring in front of him, then he picked up the telephone and called Colonel Ondinh-Khuc. He told him he now knew who Jaffe’s girl was.

“I will question her myself,” the Colonel said, a grating note in his voice. “Arrest her quietly. Bring her to me immediately.”

It didn’t take the Inspector long to find Nhan’s address. A register of all the taxi-dancers was kept at headquarters. The Inspector took two plain-clothes men with him and drove in his car to Nhan’s home. Leaving the car at the corner of the street, he walked with one of his men to the apartment block.

Nhan’s mother came to the door.

Her daughter was out, she told the Inspector. She didn’t know where she had gone. She would be back at mid-day or failing this, then she was certain to be back at six.

The Inspector left his man at the apartment. He told him to wait for Nhan to arrive and that her mother was not to leave the apartment on any pretext until her daughter did arrive.

When the Inspector had gone, his man sat on the bench near the door and lit a cigarette. Nhan’s mother squatted on the floor looking at the man in terror. After a while the man got bored with smoking. He locked the door and then began to examine the contents of the apartment, opening and shutting cupboards, opening drawers and turning over their contents while Nhan’s mother continued to watch him.

Jaffe was surprised and pleased when his room door opened and Nhan came in. He thought she looked tired and he could tell by her kiss that she was nervous about something. He led her to the bed and sat on it, pulling her down beside him, his arm round her. He told her of his meeting with Blackie. He didn’t mention the policeman.

“We leave tomorrow night,” he said. The following morning we will be in Hong Kong.”

Nhan hesitated before saying, “Could we wait for two days, Steve? It would be better. I consulted the Oracle this morning and the next two days are very bad for me. Please wait. In two days time it will be all right.” She looked anxiously at him expecting him to be angry and impatient with her, but instead he grinned at her.