Martin Limon - Slicky Boys

An elegant Japanese junk with folded sails lay low in the menacing waves. Closer into shore bobbed the iron-plated shell of the Korean kobuk-son, the turtle boat, the world’s first armored ship.

Ernie guided our jeep through the village. Near the pier, the streets were lined with men in white pantaloons and brightly colored vests, sporting stovepipe horsehair hats tied atop their heads. The women drifted like flowers in their chima-chogori, flowing silk gowns.

“Looks like they’re about to have a party,” Ernie said.

“And we’re going to ruin it.”

The citizens of Kanghua waved as we cruised by. They don’t see many foreigners out here.

We’d made sure to wear our civilian coats and ties. We were on official business and besides, I had a hunch a lot of people would be looking us over before the morning was through.

Ernie pulled up in the parking lot and backed the jeep into an open slot. We strode out toward a group of ROK Navy brass gathered at the base of the pier. All wore their black dress uniforms and gold-rimmed caps. Below them on the beach, sailors in dungarees hustled about near the turtle boat, preparing for their mission.

As we approached, the faces of the Korean officers turned toward us. Near the center stood a tall, gray-haired man with more gold on his brim than anyone else in the crowd. Two stars on his shoulders. An admiral.

In front of him, talking earnestly, stood Commander Goh.

I stopped three feet in front of them, flashed my identification, and spoke in Korean. “I’m Inspector Sueno,” I said. “Eighth Army CID. Here to ask a few questions of Commander Goh.”

The admiral’s mouth almost fell open-the American military was not often seen in these remote areas. Ernie positioned himself a few feet away from me, hands on his hips, making sure that everyone understood that he wasn’t intimidated by all this rank.

“Wein irri issoyo?” the admiral said. What is it you want?

“There was a murder,” I said in Korean. “The daughter of an admiral, Commander Goh told me. But I’ve checked into this murder more thoroughly. It wasn’t the daughter of an admiral who was killed.”

Commander Goh took a step away from the admiral. I continued talking.

“Lieutenant Commander Shipton is dead. He was killed by Agent Bascom here"-I nodded toward Ernie- “last night, during the commission of a crime.”

Air seemed to escape from Commander Goh. He edged farther away from the admiral. I stepped closer.

“The woman who was murdered,” I said. “She wasn’t the daughter of an admiral. She was the daughter of a naval commander. She was your daughter, Commander Goh. It was your daughter who was killed by Shipton.”

He lowered his head, for what seemed a long time. Finally, he looked back up and spoke in English. Maybe hoping some of his fellow officers wouldn’t understand. He spoke loudly. Forcefully. Unashamed.

“Yes. Myong-a was my daughter. Our little baby. Our only child.” He shook his head, fighting back demons. “She was given over to a foreigner. He was a strong man, and I hoped that he would make her a good husband. But she had already changed her mind about him when she went back to her old boyfriend. Myong-a had seen the evil in him. She had walked away from his evil.”

The admiral patted him on the shoulder, told him he didn’t have to go on. Goh shrugged him off, ignoring him. A tremendous insult in a society that reveres hierarchy.

“Myong-a was afraid to tell Shipton that she would not marry him. Why didn’t she come to me? I would have protected her. But she didn’t want to cause trouble. Myong-a didn’t want to hurt my chances of being promoted to admiral.”

The strong lines of Goh’s face started to melt before my eyes.

“And after she died, her mother became sick. She died only a month ago, willing death to come to her, refusing medication.”

The officers stood frozen, hushed and embarrassed. Ernie shifted his hips, fondling the handcuffs at the small of his back, snapping his gum. The only person in the crowd who wasn’t impressed with Commander Goh’s story.

“So I am like you now, Inspector Sueno,” Commander Goh said, looking straight at me. “I too am an orphan.”

“And the rest, Commander Goh,” I said. “Tell us the rest. Tell us about the kisaeng in Seoul. Tell us about Miss Ku.”

He continued to stare at me, his face unchanging. He said nothing.

“The ROK Navy investigation had failed,” I said. “Shipton had completely disappeared. But then, you heard about the murder of a British soldier in Namdaemun. You recognized it right away as the handiwork of Shipton. Who else would’ve wanted to kill-or been capable of killing-a foreigner in such a brutal manner? When you found out that Agent Bascom and I were assigned to the case, you had us followed. We led you to the Tiger Lady’s kisaeng house.”

He took a step backward.

“You killed her,” I said. “You killed Miss Ku. Didn’t you?” When he didn’t answer, I continued. “She had known Shipton. She had slept with him. When she told you that she didn’t know how to find him, you didn’t believe her.”

I longed to smash the side of his big square head with my metal brace. I was enraged by it all. By all the killing.

“You sliced sharp knives into her fingernails. And then you ripped them off. When she still didn’t talk, you kept torturing her. And when you finally realized she knew nothing, you murdered her. Dumped her in the alley. Murdered her in a way that would make us believe that Shipton had done it.”

The admiral had had enough. He barked an order. Two of the younger officers stepped between me and Commander Goh. Another laid his hand on Ernie’s elbow. Ernie flinched as if he’d been buzzed by high voltage wire, hopped back, and punched the Korean officer with a right cross to the nose.

All hell broke loose. Goh backed away, out of my line of sight. Officers shouted, grabbing me and Ernie, and we shoved back, trying to break free.

Down below, someone fired a gun.

The oars of the turtle boat churned into the choppy waters, and the long-necked prow of the antique ship headed past the breakers toward the Japanese junk, the grimacing head of the turtle glaring at its doomed prey.

A deep voice boomed through the melee.

“Shikkuro!” Shut up! It was the admiral.

Everyone stopped and looked at him and then followed his eyes.

Commander Goh had slipped away from the crowd and was backing down the pier toward the sea. He stopped, reached inside his coat, and pulled out a German Luger.

Ernie shook himself free and ran to the far side of the wooden pier, taking cover behind a post. He pulled out a. 45.

I pulled my. 38. Holding it in my good hand, I ran to the other side of the pier.

Commander Goh backed away from us, waving the Luger from side to side.

Ernie’s gum clicked rapidly. “There’s nowhere for you to go,” he said. “You’re trapped.”

“I will go to the sea,” Commander Goh said in English. “Where a sailor always goes in time of trouble.”

The three of us strode down the pier. Commander Goh walking backward, Ernie and me following. All with pistols drawn.

A horn, like the bellow of a dragon, sounded below. The turtle boat was picking up speed, moving alongside the pier, heading toward its victim, the Japanese junk.

There were no sailors visible; they were all inside, hidden beneath the iron shell. Protected.

Commander Goh glanced down at the metal plating floating low in the water. Oars peeked out of portholes just above the waterline. Huge metal spikes stuck straight up into the air. Sharpened, to discourage boarders.

Commander Goh kept backing up. Only a few yards of wooden pier were left.