Bamboo and blood

7

I thought Jeno would be put off by the cancellation of his operation, but he seemed cheery enough, sitting on the bench across from my hotel, reading a newspaper.

"You owe me a croissant," he said, "but don't worry. We can settle later. Sit down and enjoy the spring air. Look at this light, will you? Soft as a Bedouin's handshake."

I didn't care about Bedouins. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. We called it off, that's all."

"There was someone on the train you didn't like."

Jeno?s eyebrows did a brief tango. "You picked up on that, did you?"

"Hard not to. You think he was there by accident?"

"He's never anywhere by accident. That wasn't his wife, by the way."

"How did he know I'd be on the train? You have a problem in your organization?"

"No. He just showed up. Lucky break for us. We've been wondering where he was."

"How did he know I'd be there?"

"He probably didn't. He might have seen you at the station when you got on the train. There aren't many Koreans around, and he must have been curious, sort of like a cat. He is careful where he steps, and if he sees anything new or out of place, he goes the other way."

"He didn't go the other way. He came right to me and sat down. How could he know I was Korean?"

"Well, it's a cinch you're not Mexican."

If Jeno was so happy to see the man, I figured it meant he must be a target, and that meant he had something to do with the weapons trade, missiles maybe. A perfect tab, a perfect slot. Geneva was a busy city. No wonder M. Beret looked so tired. "I hope we're not going to try this again. Once is enough."

"Don't worry, the person who was here to see you had to leave right away. You sure you won't accept a trip to the land of milk and honey? We can do the whole thing in twenty-four hours."

"Yes, I'm sure you can. But I don't like to rush my time on the beach, it's bad for my tan."

Jeno folded his paper and tucked it under his arm. "I'll be in touch."

"The man on the train, who was he going to meet?"

"Guess."

I didn't have to. What if my brother had even been sitting a few cars ahead, in the first class section? Same train, different dreams.