Hwang Sok-Yong - The Shadow of Arms

Yong Kyu cut in.

“Well, let’s get back to our duty.”

“Right. From Madame Lin we’ll find out where she lives, then we can bring her in.”

“Where to? To our office?”

“No. To Da Nang QC headquarters. I used to work there, so I’ll borrow a friend’s office for an hour.”

The glass door at the front of the club opened and a woman walked in. She was tall and slender, wearing a black Chinese dress. Her hair was up in braids and she wore no flashy trinkets on her arms, only a black coral bracelet. As the bartender said something to her, she glanced over at the two of them and then went into the back. The waiter came over and spoke to Toi in Vietnamese.

“She wants us to come to her office.”

Toi walked ahead with Yong Kyu following. Past the arched passageway, each room was screened with beads in designs of dragons, butterflies, or peonies. The lights inside the rooms were off. At the very end of the corridor there was a door. The waiter knocked and from inside a woman’s voice said, “Come in.” They entered. A woman was sitting with her back to a huge window at a table that had nothing on it but an ashtray and a telephone. There were chairs upholstered with leather and a wall hanging in a Middle Eastern style. Through the open curtains they could see the spacious back lawn of the club, with white benches and a cast iron barbecue grill. The woman wore a look of disdain as she spoke to them.

“What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

She seemed to be in her early forties. Her eye makeup was heavy and a pearl necklace hung around the collar of her Chinese dress. She appeared long accustomed to living a European lifestyle. There was something about her attitude that resembled that of Krapensky when he addressed Yong Kyu or Toi. She had an overbearing air, as if dealing with small children, yet there was a hint of authentic curiosity in her eyes. Toi opened his mouth, speaking Vietnamese, and Madame Lin frowned a little.

“Speak in English, if you please. Who are you?”

Toi glanced back at Yong Kyu, then said, “We’re intelligence officers with the Vietnamese army.”

“So?”

Only then did the woman gesture to offer them seats. They sat down.

“Do you know a woman by the name of Mimi?”

“She’s a customer here. She comes here every now and then. Why, has she caused any trouble?”

“Madame,” Toi calmly said, “I’d like to remind you that you’re running a business subject to the national laws of Vietnam.”

Madame Lin grinned brightly. She had cultivated a particular genius at flashing such smiles, it seemed.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that. But you said you’re with the military, not the national police, did you not? What do you soldiers have to do with our club?”

“We have reliable reports that the Sports Club is running prostitution and gambling rackets on the side. . but we’re not here about that. We just want some information about this Mimi character.”

“I’ll disregard the first part of what you said, for that’s not in your jurisdiction. If you don’t agree, feel free to contact Colonel Cao, the chief of police. The colonel is my husband’s closest friend, and General Liam is his golf partner.”

“Madame, where does Mimi live? That’s all we’re interested in.” Toi went straight to the point.

In a low voice, the Chinese woman asked back, “What’s this all about?”

“Black market.”

“But she quit the PX.”

“It doesn’t concern the PX.”

For the first time, Madame Lin cast a sharp look at Yong Kyu.

“I don’t know, but I can find out. If I ask the bartender, we’ll find out right away. You both have been in our club before, haven’t you?”

“Yes, a few times with friends.”

“Vietnamese aren’t allowed here.”

Yong Kyu was about to pipe up, but Toi stopped him with a poke. “This friend of mine is Korean. He doesn’t understand what we’re saying.”

“So, you’re turning Mimi over to him,” Madame Lin said, clicking her tongue.

Toi laughed. “Since you failed as a matchmaker, I had to step in. My friend here has fallen head over heels in love with her. Can’t sleep at night, you know.”

The woman cackled loudly. Then she picked up the telephone on the table and punched a few buttons. “Bring me Mimi’s address.”

A few minutes later the waiter brought in a piece of paper. As Toi reached for it, the woman raised her fingers and waved them back and forth.

“Not yet. First, I want you to write down your duty station, your ranks, and your names.”

“To report us to the general?”

“No, but if anything happens to Mimi, I’ll be losing a good customer.”

“All right.”

Toi quickly scribbled on the paper and Yong Kyu did the same. The woman read aloud from her piece of paper.

“Hotel Thanh Thanh, Room 306. Satisfied?”

“Thank you.”

The woman called out to their backs as they left.

“Come again with Mimi.”

They left the club.

“What a strange woman,” Yong Kyu said as they got in the Land Rover.

“An old fox.”

“She comes all the way from Hong Kong to a battle zone and runs a club like that, we’re definitely no match for her. Way over our heads.”

“Why is she protecting Miss Oh?”

“That’s obvious. I saw her picture. She’s the type white men go for. Madame Lin would never pass by a foreign girl or a white dancer staying at the Thanh Thanh. She probably brokers side jobs for Mimi.”

“And puts her on display at all the club parties.”

They drove straight over to Doc Lap Boulevard. The multicolored awning over the entrance to the Hotel Thanh Thanh was visible from a distance. On both sides of the door stood jagged-leafed cycad plants.

“It’ll be the first time in a long while for me to speak to a woman in my own language,” Yong Kyu said.

“And the first time for me to hear your language in a woman’s voice,” Toi said, adding, “Korean sounds harsh and stiff to me.”

“And Vietnamese sounds like a parrot choking.”

As they pushed open the glass door with its wire-mesh embedded inside, they could see a brightly lit restaurant just past the narrow counter that served as a front desk. An old man in a clean shirt was sitting there.

“Welcome. Would you like a room?”

“No, thanks.”

Toi presented his ID card before Yong Kyu could and said something in Vietnamese, at which the old man pointed an arm to the stairs. They ran upstairs. When they reached the door, Toi said, “I’m going to speak Vietnamese.”

Yong Kyu nodded.

“ Mo kye hotoi . .” said Toi, pounding on the door.

He kept knocking. Then he put an ear to the door and shouted as he pounded again. A sound like a moan came from within, followed by the sound of a glass door sliding, then footsteps approaching.

“Who is it?” asked a woman’s sleepy voice.

“ Siloi ko ,” Toi said, glancing back at Yong Kyu.

As the woman unthinkingly turned the knob of the door, Toi and Yong Kyu pushed it open with full force and crashed into the room. The woman stood petrified, pinned beside the door. Yong Kyu flashed his ID with its red slash right in front of her eyes.

“What the hell is this about?”

The woman immediately saw that Yong Kyu was another Korean. Arching her eyebrows, she wrapped her wrinkled robe more tightly about her. Although just roused from sleep, she was still a captivating sight. As the shutters were swung open, the sunlight streamed in and the woman’s white neck glistened. She grimaced and covered her head, from embarrassment at her unmade-up face as much as from the glare in her eyes.

“You’re asking for big trouble, do you know that?” the woman said.