instructions to Inspector Ngoc-Linh.
He was saying that he had reason to believe that the American, Steve Jaffe, hadn't been kidnapped by the Viet Minh. For reasons as yet unknown, Jaffe had murdered his houseboy. That was an established fact. It would be very convenient for Jaffe if it were believed he had been kidnapped. There was a possibility that Jaffe had gone into hiding and would attempt to leave the country, he must be prevented from doing so.
The Inspector was to make inquiries. He was to satisfy the Colonel that either Jaffe had been kidnapped or was hiding. If he was in hiding, the Inspector was to discover his hiding place. When the hiding place was discovered, he was to make no move to arrest the American. He was to tell the Colonel where the American was hiding and the Colonel would then decide what action to take.
Dong-Ham and My-Lang-To were to be taken to Security Police Headquarters. They were to talk to no one, but put in separate cells and to remain under lock and key until the Colonel interrogated them personally. Any information he obtained from them would be passed on to the Inspector to assist him in his search for the American.
The Colonel would report to the President that the American had been kidnapped, and no doubt, the President would have this information conveyed to the American Ambassador. The Inspector should understand it would be against the interests of the State for the American Ambassador to be told that Jaffe had murdered his houseboy. This unfortunate incident must remain a secret, and the Colonel would hold the Inspector responsible for keeping it a secret.
There was a pause, then the Colonel went on, "The body of the houseboy must be discovered near the police post. It will be presumed that he was with the American when they were attacked by the bandits. While the American was kidnapped, the boy was killed. Is that understood?"
Inspector Ngoc-Linh's small black eyes flickered, but he said stolidly, "It is understood, sir."
He watched Colonel Khuc and Lam-Than leave the villa, get into the police car and drive away. As soon as they had gone, he relaxed and moved around the room, his brownface puzzled. Then he looked at the picture on the wall. He pulled up a chair, stepped up on it and raised the picture. He stared at the hole in the wall, then he settled the picture back in its place, replaced the chair and moved thoughtfully across the room and into the kitchen.
On the other side of the town in a small sparsely-furnished room, Nhan squatted in front of her mother and her uncle and explained for the second time what they were to say if the police questioned them about her whereabouts the previous night.
Nhan's mother was a tiny woman of forty-six. She had on a shabby wrap and her hair hung loose, framing her dried-up wrinkled face. She looked a lot older than her years. Her husband had been a waiter at the Majestic Hotel. He had been killed in a road accident some years ago and she had had a struggle to keep the home together which she had done by selling flowers in the market. It had been a fortunate thing when Blackie Lee had come to her and suggested that Nhan should work at his club. Since Nhan had been at the club, her mother had given up flower selling. She had even invited her brother to live with them.
Her brother was considerably older than her. He was a fat, stupid man who told fortunes outside the Tomb of Marshal Le-van-Duyet. He wasn't a good fortune teller and consequently he made very little money. He was glad to have free board and lodging.
"If the police come here," Nhan said, speaking slowly, "you must say that I came home at eleven and went to bed. It is most important that you should say this."
Her uncle squinted at her, frowning.
"How can I say such a thing when you were out all night?" he finally asked. "I was here all the evening. Your bed hasn't been slept in."
"That is true," Nhan's mother said. "Lies lead to trouble. We don't want
He was saying that he had reason to believe that the American, Steve Jaffe, hadn't been kidnapped by the Viet Minh. For reasons as yet unknown, Jaffe had murdered his houseboy. That was an established fact. It would be very convenient for Jaffe if it were believed he had been kidnapped. There was a possibility that Jaffe had gone into hiding and would attempt to leave the country, he must be prevented from doing so.
The Inspector was to make inquiries. He was to satisfy the Colonel that either Jaffe had been kidnapped or was hiding. If he was in hiding, the Inspector was to discover his hiding place. When the hiding place was discovered, he was to make no move to arrest the American. He was to tell the Colonel where the American was hiding and the Colonel would then decide what action to take.
Dong-Ham and My-Lang-To were to be taken to Security Police Headquarters. They were to talk to no one, but put in separate cells and to remain under lock and key until the Colonel interrogated them personally. Any information he obtained from them would be passed on to the Inspector to assist him in his search for the American.
The Colonel would report to the President that the American had been kidnapped, and no doubt, the President would have this information conveyed to the American Ambassador. The Inspector should understand it would be against the interests of the State for the American Ambassador to be told that Jaffe had murdered his houseboy. This unfortunate incident must remain a secret, and the Colonel would hold the Inspector responsible for keeping it a secret.
There was a pause, then the Colonel went on, "The body of the houseboy must be discovered near the police post. It will be presumed that he was with the American when they were attacked by the bandits. While the American was kidnapped, the boy was killed. Is that understood?"
Inspector Ngoc-Linh's small black eyes flickered, but he said stolidly, "It is understood, sir."
He watched Colonel Khuc and Lam-Than leave the villa, get into the police car and drive away. As soon as they had gone, he relaxed and moved around the room, his brownface puzzled. Then he looked at the picture on the wall. He pulled up a chair, stepped up on it and raised the picture. He stared at the hole in the wall, then he settled the picture back in its place, replaced the chair and moved thoughtfully across the room and into the kitchen.
On the other side of the town in a small sparsely-furnished room, Nhan squatted in front of her mother and her uncle and explained for the second time what they were to say if the police questioned them about her whereabouts the previous night.
Nhan's mother was a tiny woman of forty-six. She had on a shabby wrap and her hair hung loose, framing her dried-up wrinkled face. She looked a lot older than her years. Her husband had been a waiter at the Majestic Hotel. He had been killed in a road accident some years ago and she had had a struggle to keep the home together which she had done by selling flowers in the market. It had been a fortunate thing when Blackie Lee had come to her and suggested that Nhan should work at his club. Since Nhan had been at the club, her mother had given up flower selling. She had even invited her brother to live with them.
Her brother was considerably older than her. He was a fat, stupid man who told fortunes outside the Tomb of Marshal Le-van-Duyet. He wasn't a good fortune teller and consequently he made very little money. He was glad to have free board and lodging.
"If the police come here," Nhan said, speaking slowly, "you must say that I came home at eleven and went to bed. It is most important that you should say this."
Her uncle squinted at her, frowning.
"How can I say such a thing when you were out all night?" he finally asked. "I was here all the evening. Your bed hasn't been slept in."
"That is true," Nhan's mother said. "Lies lead to trouble. We don't want
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