James Chase - A Lotus for Miss Quon

It was just on ten-thirty o’clock when Jaffe saw Nhan coming briskly along the sidewalk, weaving her way through the jostling crowd, a slightly worried expression on her delicately-featured face. She was wearing white silk trousers and a red wine-coloured tunic sheath.

Jaffe tapped his horn button three times, paused then tapped it again. It was their understood signal. She immediately looked in his direction and when she saw the red Dauphine her face lit up and she smiled. She started towards the car as Jaffe got out.

It is a damn funny thing, Jaffe thought as he stood by the car waiting for her, but every time I meet her, I get a real bang out of it.

Nhan ran up to him and looked up at him as he took her hand.

There was that extraordinary look of adoration in her dark eyes that always startled Jaffe. It was a look he had never seen in any other woman’s eyes: it said plainly: you are the centre of my universe, without you there would be no sun, no moon, no stars, no nothing. It was a look of complete and candid love.

Although it flattered his ego to know she loved him so completely at the same time it often embarrassed him; knowing that he himself wasn’t capable of loving her in the same way.

“Hello,” Nhan said. “Are you feeling very fine?”

She was very proud of the fact that she was learning English. She could speak fairly fluent French, but since she had met Jaffe she was now concentrating on English.

“Hello,” Jaffe said and felt a constriction in his throat as he looked down at her. Her doll-like features, her smallness, and her love moved him as nothing else could move him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Tell Blackie you won’t be working tonight. I want to talk to you.” He took out his wallet and gave her some money. “Here, give this to him, and hurry, will you?”

Her almond-shaped eyes widened as she looked at the money.

“But, Steve, why don’t you come up? We can dance and talk. It’ll save your money.”

“Give it to him,” Jaffe said curtly. “I can’t talk to you up there.”

She gave him a quick, puzzled stare, then went quickly up the stairs to the club.

Jaffe got into the Dauphine and lit a cigarette. In spite of the slight breeze, the heat oppressed him. Every now and then his mind would jump to Haum in the clothes closet. The thought of the dead man made him flinch.

Nhan came out of the club and got into the car. As she slammed the door, Jaffe pressed the starter button and eased the car into the stream of pousse-pousse and cars.

He drove as fast as he could towards the river. Nhan sat silent, her hands resting on her knees, her eyes on the flow of traffic.

When they reached the ornamental gardens by the bridge, Jaffe stopped the car.

“Let’s get out,” he said, sliding out of the car.

She followed him over to the seat under the trees where the young Vietnamese couple had sat and they sat down. The moon floated in a cloudless sky, shedding its light on the sampans and the small rowing-boats that still moved on the river.

As Nhan settled herself beside Jaffe, he put his arm around her slender body and kissed her. He held her against him, his mouth on hers for a long moment, then releasing her, he lit a cigarette, snapping the match into the river.

“What’s the matter, Steve?”

She spoke in French now, and he was aware her expression was anxious.

He hesitated to admit anything was the matter, then realizing he was wasting time, he said, “Something’s happened. I’m in trouble. Don’t ask questions. It’s better that you don’t know. The point is I’m in bad trouble with the police. I have to get away.”

She went rigid, her hands gripping her silk-clad knees. He could hear her quick breathing. He watched her, pitying her. As she didn’t speak, he said, “It’s bad, Nhan. I’ve got to get out of the country somehow.”

She drew in a deep breath.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Please explain this thing to me.”

“Something happened this afternoon. The police will be looking for me by tomorrow.”

“What happened?”

Jaffe hesitated, then decided to tell her. The newspapers were certain to carry the story tomorrow or the day after; then everyone would know.

So he told her.

Her fingers tightened on his wrist.

“But it was an accident!” she said breathlessly. “You must tell the police! It was an accident!”

He moved impatiently.

“They’ll think I killed him. Don’t you understand? I’ve got to get out or I’m sunk!”

“But it was an accident!” she exclaimed. “You must go to the police at once! They will be pleased when you give them the diamonds. Let us go to the police now!” and she started to get up.

“I’m keeping the diamonds and I’m not going to the police,” he said in a hard, cold voice.

She dropped back on to the seat. She lowered her head so he couldn’t see her face.

“Don’t you see?” he said angrily. “Once I get away, I can sell the diamonds. They are worth a million dollars - probably more. It’s a chance in a lifetime. I’ve always wanted to get my hands on really big money!”

She rocked herself to and fro in her agony of fear.

“If you run away, they will think you killed him.” She moaned. “You mustn’t do it. No money is worth this. You must give them the diamonds!”

“I did kill him,” he said, growing impatient. “I’m not such a fool as to risk a trial. They could put me in their stinking jail for years. We’re wasting time. Somehow, I’ve got to get out. It’ll take time to organize. I’ve got to find some safe place where I can hide. Do you know where I could hide?”

“Hide?” She lifted her head and stared at him, terror made her look ugly. The word sparked off a panic that was pitiful to see. “What about me? Are you going to leave me?”

“I didn’t say anything about leaving you. When I go, you’ll come with me.”

“But I can’t! They won’t give me permission to leave. No Vietnamese can leave the country! Besides, what will happen to my mother, my brothers, my uncle, if I did leave?”

Complications, Jaffe thought. Always complications.

“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.”

She jumped up and throwing her arms around his neck, pressing her slim figure against him, she clung frantically to him.

“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.