A Lotus for Miss Quon

1

Nhan woke from a sound and dreamless sleep. She lay without moving, looking up at the wooden ceiling as she listened to the faint sounds of passing people and an occasional car in the road outside the villa.

The little room was very hot. She felt drowsy and relaxed. She turned her head to look at Steve sleeping beside her. Then moving gently so as not to wake him, she half sat up to look at his wrist-watch lying on the table beside her. The time was four o’clock. She lay back with a contented sigh.

The bus to Saigon left at fifteen minutes past five. It would get her to the Central Market at five-to-six. She would be home by six in time to prepare supper for her brothers.

For the moment her fears had drained out of her. Jaffe’s skilful love-making had satisfied her body and relaxed her mind.

She stretched her long naked legs with another sigh of content and she put her hands over her small breasts, pressing her elbows into her tiny waist.

Steve stirred. He opened his eyes, blinked, then seeing her watching him, he smiled.

“Hello, Mrs. Jaffe,” he said and dropped his hand onto her. “What’s the time?”

She looked adoringly at him. He couldn’t have said anything nicer to her than that simple “Hello, Mrs. Jaffe.”

“It’s only four.”

He slid his arm under her shoulders and pulled her to him.

“How glad I’ll be to get out of here,” he said, absently stroking her flank. “Thirty-one more hours. It’s damned funny really how in a few hours one’s whole life can change. In thirty-one hours you and I will be in a helicopter. Have you ever been in a helicopter?”

“No.”

“Nor have I. This will be the first of many new experiences we are going to share together.” He saw the worried expression come into her eyes and he shook his head, smiling at her. “The first thing we’ll do when we get to Hong Kong is to find a lawyer to get your family fixed. You’re worrying about them, aren’t you?”

“A little. They will be very sad when I leave them.”

“They’ll get over it.” He lay quiet for some moments, then, “You won’t change your mind and stay here with me? Your grandfather can go and tell your family you’re leaving with me to get married. I’ll give him the money for a taxi. Come on, Nhan, change your mind. Let’s get to know each other. We shall have thirty-one hours in this little room to talk. We should know each other pretty well after thirty-one hours’ talking shouldn’t we?”

“Yes.”

She was tempted to stay. It was strange, she thought, when I am with him, I’m not frightened. With him, holding me, I can really believe that I shall go to Hong Kong with him and I shall stay at the best hotel and have a car of my own and a necklace of pearls as he promised. Not that I want anything really except him.

She wrestled with temptation to stay. Her three brothers didn’t like her grandfather. She never knew quite why. It wouldn’t do for him to go to them and tell them she was leaving Saigon and wouldn’t see them for a long time. They relied on her. They would miss her so much. It was her duty to explain why she was leaving them herself.

“I must go, Steve,” she said, looking anxiously at him. “I want to stay, but as I am leaving them and going to live with you, it wouldn’t be right not to tell them myself.”

“I guess that’s right.” Jaffe bent and kissed her. “You’re a funny kid, Nhan. I admire you for being able to feel that way. I couldn’t: it’s not in me.”

“You are very kind.”

“No, I’m not,” Jaffe said, frowning. “I’m in love with you. I wasn’t kind even to you before I learned to love you. Now it’s easy to be kind to you, but not to anyone else.” He got off the bed and slipped on his shorts, then crossing to his canvas hold-all, lying on the floor, he opened it and took out the typewriter ribbon container and came back to her. “Lie still,” he said and opening the container, he gently spilled the diamonds into the little hollow between her breasts.

She lifted her head and looked at the diamonds sparkling like fireflies on her brown skin. They felt cold, and she suppressed a shiver as Jaffe very carefully moved them with his fingers, making a little pattern with them.

“They’re terrific, aren’t they?” he said. “Look at them! I’ll be sorry to sell them. I’ll pick the best of them and I’ll have it mounted on a ring for you.”

The feel of the diamonds against her skin gave her the same feeling of horror she once had when, lying in the long grass, a snake had slid over her naked legs. Then, she had sprung to her feet, screaming. Now, seeing the pleasure the diamonds lying between her breasts gave him, she fought down the horror and controlled the impulse to sweep them off her body and scream.

But she couldn’t hide the sudden tensing of her muscles and Jaffe, puzzled, scooped up the diamonds and put them back into the tin.

“I wonder if I’ll ever learn to understand you, Nhan,” he said. “One second you’re happy and relaxed, the next you’re scared out of your wits. I’d like to know what goes on in that funny mind of yours.”

She rubbed her hand between her breasts as if trying to get rid of the feel of the diamonds.

“I wonder sometimes what goes on in your mind too, Steve.”

“I guess.” He looked at the diamonds before putting the lid on the tin. “These stones give me more pleasure than anything else in the world - except you.”

“I’m glad.”

She slid off the bed. She couldn’t bear to talk about the diamonds a moment longer. If it hadn’t been for those hard sparkling stones, Haum would still be alive and this nightmare that was happening to them both wouldn’t be happening.

“I must get dressed. I don’t want to miss the bus.”

“There’s time.” He stretched out on the bed and lit a cigarette while he watched her slip into her clothes. As she went over to the mirror to tidy her hair, he said, “You understand what to do, Nhan? There must be no mistake. Blackie will call for you at ten o’clock tomorrow night. He will bring you to the old temple. I’ll be there at eleven. Don’t bring too many things… just a small suitcase. I’ll buy everything you want when we get to Hong Kong.”

“I understand.”

She put her comb back into her bag, then from the bag, she took out a small object and came over to him. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking seriously at him.

“I want you to keep this until we meet again.”

“What is it?”

She took his hand and put the object into it. Frowning, he held it up to examine it. It was a tiny Buddha carved in ivory.

“It belonged to my father,” she said. “It will protect you from harm. It is very powerful, Steve. Keep it with you. So long as you have it, no harm will come to you.”

He was touched by her simple faith.

“I’ll keep it,” he said. It didn’t occur to him the sacrifice she was making by giving the Buddha to him. All her life she had kept this little ivory carving. She relied on it for comfort: parting with it was giving away her most important and valuable possession. He put the Buddha on the table by his watch. “Well, kid, it won’t be long now.” He sat up, putting his arm around her. “I’ll be waiting for you. Don’t look so serious. It’s going to be all right.”

“Yes. I must go.” She touched his face with her fingers, then leaning forward she kissed his mouth. “Good-bye, Steve.”

He went with her to the door.

“In another thirty and a quarter hours,” he said and smiled down at her. “So long till then.” He gave her a little hug, then stood back and watched her go swiftly down the stairs.

She didn’t look back.

He went over to the window and watched her walk down the dusty road. He admired her neat, upright carriage and the way she held her head.

During the drive back to Saigon, Nhan’s mind became a torment of fear, apprehension and indecision. Without Steve’s strength and confidence to support her, she felt lost and frighteningly alone.

After she had prepared supper for her three brothers, she told herself, she would go to the pagoda of Dakao and spend the night in prayer. She would light four candles. She wished now she hadn’t given Steve her Buddha. She didn’t think he would value it, and she felt lost without it.

She was glad when the bus finally pulled up at the Central Market. She walked quickly along the pavement crowded with food vendors selling Chinese soup, the juice of sugar cane and dried meats. One vendor held out a stuffed snake towards her, grinning as she shied away, turning her head and quickening her steps.

The evening sun was hot. The road crowded with hooting motorcars, pousse-pousse and bicycles created a strident violent movement that beat on her nerves.

As she approached her apartment block, she didn’t notice the black Citroen parked a few yards from the entrance to the block. Inspector Ngoc-Linh sat in the car, a plainclothes detective at his side. Both men were smoking. The Inspector kept looking at his watch uneasily. The time was one minute past six.

The two men watched Nhan enter the apartment block and they exchanged glances.

“It could be her,” the Inspector said and he got out of the car. “Wait here.”

Nhan ran up the stairs to the second floor. She paused outside the front door of her apartment to calm herself. She must not frighten her brothers. It was going to be difficult to explain to them that she was going away. She must make them believe she was very happy. They were fond of her. If they believed she was really happy, they might not mind so much that she was leaving them.

She practised a smile tentatively. The muscles of her face were so stiff the smile was painful. She turned the handle, pushed open the door and walked into the living-room.

The sight of a strange man standing in the middle of the room brought her to an abrupt halt. There was no one else in the room. She didn’t have to be told that this man was from Security Police. The shabby European suit, the expressionless face, the glittering alert eyes could belong to no one else except a member of Security Police.

She stood motionless, feeling the blood draining out of her heart and a sensation of cold passing over her body.

“You are Nhan Lee Quon?” the man asked in a hard, impersonal voice.

She tried to say something but no sound came. She became aware of quick footsteps coming down the passage, then Inspector Ngoc-Linh came into the room.

She recognized him. The Inspector was well known in Saigon. She remembered what the fortune-teller had told her. The next two days will be the most critical in your life.

“You are Nhan Lee Quon?” the Inspector said, staring at her. “You are a taxi-dancer at the Paradise Club?”

“Yes.”

She forced the word past her stiff lips.

“You are to come with me,” the Inspector said. He signalled to the detective who moved past her and opened the door. He went into the passage and stood waiting.

“Where is my mother?” Nhan asked.

The Inspector motioned to the bedroom door.

“Come with me.”

“Could I not see her and my brothers?” Nhan asked.

“Not now - later.” He took hold of her arm and moved her out of the room.

The detective went on ahead, Nhan followed him, the Inspector brought up the rear.

Nhan had difficulty in going down the stairs. She was trembling violently. Once she stumbled, and the Inspector caught hold of her arm. He continued to hold her arm until they reached the lobby, then he released her.

The detective led the way to the car and opened the rear door. Nhan got into the car and the Inspector slid in beside her.

Several people paused to stare. They knew this was a car belonging to Security Police. They wondered what the detectives were going to do with Nhan.

The car pulled away and drove fast towards Headquarters. The time was a minute to ten past six.

Nhan sat huddled up in the corner. Her mind was paralysed with terror. What was going to happen to her? Would she ever see Steve again?

It only took two minutes for the car to reach Headquarters. As soon as the car pulled up in the yard, the Inspector got out.

“Come,” he said.

Nhan got out. Her legs were so unsteady she would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her arm. He bustled her through a doorway, along a passage, pushing her roughly ahead of him.

There was a door at the end of the passage. The Inspector knocked on the door, opened it and pushed Nhan into Colonel On-dinh-Khuc’s office.

The Colonel sat at his desk, waiting. At another desk by the window Lam-Than was busy with a bulky file. He didn’t bother to look up when Nhan came in.

She stared at the Colonel, feeling a prickle of horror over her skin.

The Inspector pushed her in front of the desk.

“Nhan Lee Quon, sir,” he said.

The Colonel looked at his wrist watch. The time was fourteen minutes past six.

“You are late,” he said.

The Inspector didn’t say anything. There was a pause, then the Colonel waved him away. The Inspector went out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.

The Colonel stared for a long moment at Nhan, then he leaned forward, resting his fat hands on the blotter.

“You are Nhan Lee Quon?”

Nhan nodded.

“You are a taxi-dancer at the Paradise Club?”

Again she nodded.

“You have associated with an American, Steve Jaffe?”

Her heart contracted. The sound of Steve’s name stiffened her courage. For the first time since she had entered her apartment and had been confronted by the detective, her mind began to work. This man, sitting at the desk, wanted to know where Steve was. She would have to be very careful what she said. Whatever happened to her, this man mustn’t find Steve.

“Yes.”

“When did you last see him?”

She hesitated, then said, “Sunday evening.”

“You haven’t seen him since?”

“No.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

The Colonel made an impatient movement.

“I asked you where he is.”

“I don’t know.” This time there was no hesitation. “Where were you this afternoon?”

Be careful, Nhan told herself. Be very, very careful.

“I went for a walk.”

“Where?”

“I just walked.”

The Colonel reached out for a cigarette. He lit it while he stared at the girl.

“Listen to me,” he said. “I know you are lying. I intend to find the American. You know where he is. If you tell me and when I have found him, you will be released and you can return to your family. If you don’t tell me, I will force you to speak. It is important to the State that the American should be found. It is of no importance to the State what happens to you. There are many ways of making the most obstinate person tell us what we want to know. You will save yourself a great deal of suffering, if you tell the truth now and at once. If you are obstinate, I will hand you over to men who are experts at making people talk. Do you understand?”

In twenty-nine hours, Nhan thought, Steve will be safe. If I can only keep silent until then, he will be out of their reach. Twenty-nine hours! The thought of those long hours stretching ahead of her like eternity filled her with cold despair.

“Do you understand?” the Colonel asked.

“Yes.”

“Very well.” He leaned further forward. “Where is the American, Jaffe?”

She raised her head and looked directly into the black eyes staring at her.

“I don’t know.”

The Colonel stubbed out his cigarette, then pressed a button on the side of his desk.

There was a long pause while he began to examine some papers lying before him. Lam-Than got up and brought the file over. He put it down close to the Colonel’s hand.

“You need only sign this, sir,” he said. “It is of no importance.”

Nhan felt tears running down her face. She brushed them away with the back of her hand. The sound of a door opening made her stiffen. The two little men who had drowned Dong Ham in a bucket of water came in. They paused just inside the room, waiting.

The Colonel signed the paper and handed the file to Lam-Than who returned to his desk, then he looked at the two little men.

“This woman has information I want quickly,” he said. “Take her away and break her obstinacy. Work quickly, but whatever you have to do to her to make her talk, be very sure she does not die.”

As the two little men moved towards her, Nhan began to scream.

2

Colonel On-dinh-Khuc was finishing a meal of Cha Gio and crab-meat which he washed down with warm Chinese wine. From time to time he glanced at the gold clock on his desk. The time was twenty minutes to nine.

The woman had been in the hands of his men now for three hours. The fact that the information he was waiting for hadn’t already been conveyed to him surprised him. Up to now his men had been able to obtain information from their victims very speedily. This delay irritated him, but he had considerable confidence in his men. It was this woman and her ridiculous obstinacy that irritated him. He made a snarling grimace. Well, she was paying dearly for her obstinacy. His men were without pity. He wouldn’t wish to be a woman in their hands.

He pushed aside his bowl and reached for an apple. This he polished on his sleeve before sinking his teeth into it. He was chewing slowly, relishing the taste of the apple when there came a tap on the door and Lam-Than came in.

“The woman is now ready to talk,” he said. “Do you wish to question her yourself?”

The Colonel took another bite from the apple.

“She has taken her time. What degree of severity was used?”

“The maximum,” Lam-Than said. “Knowing you wanted the information quickly, she was subjected to continuous pressure. She has only given in a few moments ago.”

The Colonel finished his apple, then pushed back his chair and got to his feet.

“I will question her myself,” he said. “Come with me.”

They left the office and walked down a passage, down a flight of stairs to the room where prisoners were questioned.

It was a small room: its floor and walls tiled in white. A steel table, its feet clamped to the floor, stood under a powerful ceiling lamp.

Nhan lay on the table, her wrists and ankles held by straps. Her eyes were closed. Her face drawn and lined was greenish yellow. She breathed unevenly in short shuddering gasps.

The two little men squatted side by side away from her.

Both of them looked sweaty and bored. They stood up when the Colonel came in.

He went over to Nhan and stood looking down at her.

“Well? Where is the American, Jaffe?”

Nhan’s eyes opened slowly: they were misty as if she were only half conscious. She mumbled something the Colonel couldn’t hear.

One of the little men came over to her and slapped her face. Her eyes opened wider and she cringed. Tears began to run down her face.

“Where is the American, Jaffe?”

The continuous torture she had been subjected to and the resulting agony had warned Nhan that further resistance was out of the question. She might, she told herself, be able to remain silent for perhaps another hour, but sooner or later, unless she gained a respite, she would break down and betray Steve. Already by suffering and resisting she had gained three hours for him, but the twenty-six remaining hours that stretched ahead of her before he would be safe was, she knew, an impossible test of endurance: she had to gain time. She had to convince this man bending over her that Steve was somewhere far from Thudaumot. While they were looking for him in this place, she would be able to gain strength to resist the next assault on her shuddering body.

“In Dalat,” she whispered and closed her eyes.

A few months ago Steve had taken her for a week-end to Dalat; a summer resort in the mountains where people went to escape the heat of the City. She remembered it well enough to lie about it.

“Where in Dalat?” the Colonel asked, scowling.

“In a house.”

“Who owns the house?”

“An American.”

“Where is the house?”

“It is the third house by the railway station: a house with a red roof and a yellow gate,” Nhan said, keeping her eyes closed, terrified he would know she was lying.

The Colonel drew in a deep breath.

“He is there now?”

“Yes.”

The Colonel leaned closer, his little eyes gleaming. He whispered so no one but Nhan could hear him. “He has the diamonds with him?”

“Yes.”

The Colonel straightened.

“Come,” he said to Lam-Than. “I’ve wasted enough time already. I’m going to Dalat immediately.”

Lam-Than was looking at Nhan.

“She may be lying to gain time,” he said.

The Colonel’s face darkened.

“She wouldn’t dare! If she lied to me I would cut her to pieces!” He caught hold of Nhan’s arm and shook her.

“Listen to me!” the Colonel snarled. “Are you lying? You’d better tell the truth. If I find you are lying, you will regret it.”

Nhan shook her head weakly.

She forced herself to say in a quavering voice, “It is the truth. He is in Dalat.”

The Colonel pushed the little man away.

“She isn’t lying,” he said. “She has had enough. She has been a fool to have resisted so long.” He started towards the door, then paused to look at the two little men. “Give her water and let her rest. Turn off the light. I will return in about ten hours. I’ll decide then what is to be done with her.”

Nhan began to sob convulsively. Ten hours! With ten hours rest and only another sixteen hours to endure: surely she could hang on?

Back in his office, the Colonel told Lam-Than to call Inspector Ngoc-Linh.

“He and I will go to Dalat,” the Colonel said. “When we have killed the American and I have the diamonds, I will get rid of the Inspector. The American will have shot him, and in trying to protect the Inspector, I will have been forced to kill the American.”

“You may not find the American there,” Lam-Than said. “I still think she could be lying.”

“He will be there,” the Colonel snarled. “Your pessimism bores me. She was not lying.”

Lam-Than bowed. He wasn’t convinced. He went away to fetch the Inspector.