James Church - A Corpse in the Koryo

"I played your game of Continents with the guide at the temple at Hyangsan. She said all the continents had been there. We got a good enough reconstruction of the hotel records. Three Americans and a Chinese tour group on the third floor, four people-technicians of some sort-from Brazil on the sixth. A couple of Australian businessmen and an African cultural troupe were on the seventh. They had a small riot in the upstairs bar over one of the hostesses. Next morning, they all made up and everyone went on a tour of the temple."

"No Europeans?"

"Only one. A male. Partial registration was on the computer. Paper copies with signatures and passport notation are gone, but I found a night note from the floor lady. Eighth floor. The man had the room on the end of the corridor, came back real late with a couple of other people.

Very drunk, could barely walk. I showed a picture of the corpse to the temple guide. She nodded."

Pak slammed his fist onto my desk. "There must be more records.

Someone made a reservation for him at the hotel, he checked in somewhere, he checked out of somewhere, he took a plane or a train into here, crossed a border. Why are there no traces of this character?"

I pulled out my notes from Hyangsan. "The local guy up there, what's his name, the one with the golden voice."

Song.

"Song told me girls came up when a Politburo nephew was there.

His exact words were, 'Very discreet, one in each car.' "

"Prostitution? Why would anyone try to blow up a car on the main highway over that?"

"Not girls." I looked up at the molding along the ceiling and wondered if I'd ever get to it at this rate. "Not girls. Cars. They're smuggling cars, from someplace south, up to Hyangsan, then to Manpo, and then into China. They sell them at a profit, a big profit because they get around the Chinese import duties. One car may not be worth all that much, but if you do it several times a month, over the course of a year or two, it would be worth a bundle."

I took a piece of wood from the top drawer of my desk. I smoothed it between my fingers; it was oak. Good, friendly, strong, reliable oak.

Pak shook his head. "If we were in the Sahara, you'd be worthless, completely worthless. Can't keep that badge on to save your life, but always got a piece of wood nearby." He sighed. "Keep going. It's cars. Not girls."

"It's cars, but it's not just cars. Song told me that Military Security was involved in this smuggling operation. I didn't believe him at first.

Now I do. Remember when Kang and I met for a beer at the Koryo? He wanted me to think Military Security was trying to set him up that morning I missed taking the picture of the black car. Only I don't think they were trying to set him up. I think Kang has his own smuggling operation going. He and Kim are both running cars to China, but for different reasons, and they're stumbling over each other."

"Kim wouldn't like anyone cutting into his profits, especially the Investigations Department. But this can't just be about money."

"Kim must have made plenty already if he started this a few years ago. And for all the political crap they feed us at the Saturday study sessions, one thing they have right: having money makes you greedy for more. There's no sense in getting killed over money, though. They could just carve up the operation, agree to move on alternate weeks or something."

"Impossible. Kim hates Kang's guts. And if Kang is running cars, like you said, then it's not for the money, not for himself, anyway."

"Song also told me South Korean intelligence money is greasing things."

"Maybe, but if it is, only Kim is taking it. Kang wouldn't do that.

I'm telling you, I know he wouldn't."

"Alright, tell me Kang didn't want me up on the border to protect a car-smuggling operation." Pak's face didn't reveal anything; he had closed his eyes. "Maybe the Finn was a bagman." I was thinking out loud. "He must have been on Kang's payroll. That's why there isn't any trace of him. Maybe Military Security found out and killed him. You think I'm crazy? There's a link. Kang is up to something in Finland. He told me so himself. If you ask me, he's trying to use us. He's trying to put us between himself and Military Security, have them stop for fresh meat while he gets a step ahead of them. You trust him, fine. I don't. I don't know him, and I don't trust him. Don't forget, I was standing on that hill next to Li after that car got shot up. I was standing there when Kim looked up the hill to make sure I had seen the whole thing."

"Kang has operations all over, that's his job. Don't worry about Kang's motives. He's okay." Pak opened his eyes. "I'd bet my life on it,"

He turned back to the window. "Car outside. Two cars, actually.

What's our next move?"

I walked over to my filing cabinet, pulled out a pine dowel, and threw it to Pak. "Start sanding."

Pak wasn't paying much attention to what he was doing. Though his hands were moving the sandpaper over the wood, all of his energy was in listening for the sound of two people, maybe three, coming up the stairs. After a while, he put down the wood. "Buy a bookcase. Save yourself a lot of time." From below, a car door slammed, the sound echoed in the courtyard. Pak and I looked at each other. His face had gone a little pale. "In a minute or so, they'll knock on the door," he said.

"They always knock. So polite all of a sudden, like lowering your voice during an interrogation: We're all gentleman, aren't we now, let's just go quietly, no fussing, down the stairs, into the car, care for a blindfold, glass of water, anything we can get for you?"

I shook my head. It wasn't like Pak to get so nervous. "Only one car door slammed. No one's coming up here. Maybe the guy got a leg cramp, sitting there all the time. You ever get cramps during a surveillance?" I started sanding again. "Relax, or you'll get the wood all riled up."

The knock on the door was like the crack of a rifle. The sound tumbled down the hall; then I couldn't hear anything but Pak's breathing.

Pak stood up slowly and nodded to me as he walked out into the hall.

For a moment I thought he was going back to his office to shoot himself.

Then I heard the door open.

"We going to get noodles or aren't we?" Kang's voice, booming into the room, sunshine after rain. I put down the wood carefully, then folded the small piece of sandpaper, thinking that if I did something with my hands, they would stop shaking. I fumbled on my desk for the piece of oak again, but it slipped out of my fingers.

Kang stuck his head into my office. "Sorry to be late. A traffic jam in front of your building." I heard a car engine start up, then a second one. As I glanced out the window, two black cars moved slowly down the street, in the direction of the river. Kang stood with arms folded, watching me. "Nice weather. The hills on the east coast are very pretty this time of year." He nodded down toward the floor near my chair.

"You dropped something."

"I'm staying, I'm not leaving town. They don't scare me." I looked down to make sure my hands were steady. "Let's get lunch. Pak thinks we should go up to the monuments afterward and drink ourselves silly."

Pak had put on a light jacket. I knew it was to cover his holster. If he was caught wearing a gun, they'd have an excuse to shoot him, but first he'd get one of them, because they'd never expect it of him. Pak didn't always play their game, but no one ever questioned his loyalty.

Kang reached into his waistband and produced a pistol. He slid it across the desk. "You might want this. You only need one shot."

I stared at it for a moment, then put it in my back pocket. "Remind me, or I'll pull it out instead of my wallet at lunch."

The noodle restaurant was half full, but it was still early. Most of the customers wouldn't come in for another hour, and they would spend the rest of the afternoon talking and enjoying the view, watching the boat full of tourists that plied up and down the river in good weather. The three of us ate in silence. The waitress tried to cheer us up with some small talk, but Kang gave her a sullen look and she slunk away. Afterward, we went out onto the balcony looking over the river and across to the tower on the other side.