Bamboo and blood

7

I didn't go back to the office as I'd planned. I needed to walk a little more in the dark, maybe head to the Koryo and let my thoughts fall into some sort of order. I made a mental list. The Man with Three Fingers, the general's dead daughter, a Swiss-Hungarian-Jew with a wad of dollars, and now, to top it all off, two Israeli delegations falling over each other. None of them had anything to do with Bolivia, but I'd bet they were all linked. Timing had everything to do with it. Pak hated it when I fell back on timing to explain a hunch. I never much liked it, either. The only thing I liked less than timing as an explanation was coincidence, cosmic or not. Even if I could accept coincidence now and then, there was no way that could cover two Israeli delegations. I thought about this for a while-whether timing meant something or whether it meant nothing-and then I realized I was completely alone. No one else was on the path; there was barely anyone around. It wasn't that late; there should be at least a few people still outside, hurrying home. The city had become eerie, much too quiet. There was no pulse left, no spark. The stores were empty, the streets were deserted. The whole way over to the Koryo, I kept wondering where the hole was that had swallowed the population. By the time I got to the hotel, I was practically frozen.

Once my fingers thawed, I found a phone and called up to Jeno?s room. "I made it here, barely. Meet me in the coffee shop. I'll be the one pouring hot water over his head."

I was the only customer, so I picked the warmest-looking table and sat down.

Jeno showed up a few minutes later. He didn't even say hello. "How did the first group react when it found out about the other one?" It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. The two Israeli delegations were staying in the hotel, but apparently he was steering clear.

"I haven't talked to them."

"You must have seen a report."

"Let's just say one of them spit bullets and the other two laughed until they cried."

Jeno leaned back and smiled, content. It seemed a good time to break the news to him.

"All your requests for meetings have been denied," I said matter-offactly. We weren't on a beach. We were both wearing our overcoats. The coffee had gone cold almost immediately, not that it mattered. "All denied but one. You can go to the Trade Ministry tomorrow morning, assuming there's someone around to meet you. It's only a five-minute car ride from here. Other than that, you're allowed to wander around within the four walls of this building. You can look closely at the hotel lobby. When you get tired of that, you have permission to stare at the television in your room. As a fallback, go up and down in the elevator a few times."

"I protest."

"Then look out the window if you'd rather. I think you can see the train yard, or at least the tracks. I doubt you'll see a train."

"I mean about the appointments. I didn't risk that plane ride just to sit around this depressing hotel."

"Oh, really. You don't like the Koryo? It's not bad, once you get used to it. Besides, no one twisted your arm to come back. Why did you? We had a hell of a time getting you out safely the first time. You must realize by now that there are people who would like to get their hands on you. I'm still wondering how you got another visa."

"You don't know?"

"My Ministry doesn't issue visas. If we did, you wouldn't have one."

"I have money, Inspector. Your government is in rather desperate need. Tab A, slot B, so to speak."

"Well, your tabs don't seem equally compelling to everyone, as far I can tell. Your requests for meetings are denied. I'm supposed to make sure nothing happens to you, and the best way to do that is to keep you here."

"I see. Perhaps you are the one who has denied my requests?" The man looked off into space; his eyebrows twitched thoughtfully. "It really doesn't matter where I have my meetings, you know. People can come here. It's warm, relatively speaking. We can sit and talk, drink tea, have something to eat." He put his hand on my shoulder and his eyes lit up. "Brilliant idea, Inspector, brilliant. I should have thought of it myself. If I can't go to them, they'll be happy to come to me, right?"

"When do your friends leave?"

"Those two delegations? They aren't my friends. We have different goals, very different. I want to make money. They think I cooperate too much with people who should be stepped on."

"They think we should be stepped on?"

"They did think that before, but now they seem to have changed their minds. That's why they're coming by the planeload to see your officials."

"And what changed their minds?"

He shrugged and then smiled. It was one of those charming smiles that put my hackles on red alert. "That isn't something I would know, now is it? I just want to make some money."

I relaxed a little, it was so ridiculous. "Are you kidding? Money? Here?"

"Sure, why not? You have workers; they know how to obey orders. They're educated and can be trained. I've heard from others who have set up shop here that there are ways of making things work. If you had roads and electricity, I could be the richest man on earth." He paused. "But I can make do with a lot less. What sense is there in being the richest man on earth? A lot of unhappiness is all it brings. You ever hear of King Midas?"

"I slept through the English history classes."

He smiled. "Only one thing I need."

"Sorry, I already told you, your requests for meetings have been denied."

"I heard." He put a hundred-dollar bill on the table, stood up, and walked past the girl at the front counter without paying.