27

On Friday Yong Kyu took one of the rec trucks to Turen. As he waited in front of the warehouse Leon came by on a forklift. The American gestured for him to go inside. Yong Kyu took a seat by a metal desk in the warehouse and waited for Leon to finish his job. It was a while before Leon appeared.

“It’s driving me crazy. I’m just too busy.”

“Finished?”

Leon rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No, this is just the beginning. Inventory inspection has just gotten underway.”

“How are you going to cover the shortages?”

“We lend the stuff to each other. Whatever’s missing I can borrow from a warehouse in another block to fill the hole for now. There’ll be new goods coming in soon.”

“Then I suppose the stuff I was to pick up today won’t be available?”

“What did you say it was?”

“Raisins.”

“Ah, plenty of that still. Take it all. The inspection on B-rations isn’t very strict. And please, try to see Stapley.”

“Where is he?”

Leon lowered his voice. “Down by China Beach. On his way to the movies, one of our supply men saw him. I’m supposed to go meet him.”

“What will you do when you see him?”

“I can’t just let him go to prison. As we discussed earlier, we should find him a place to hide, a boarding house.”

“Toi said he’d check around.”

“Meet me at China Beach tonight. We have to move him quickly.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“Yeah, that whorehouse near Somdomeh. The place Stapley and I used to go to.”

“I’ll be there after I finish the day’s duty.”

“Let’s meet at seven at the China Beach Bar.”

“About the medical supplies,” Yong Kyu said, changing the subject, “do you supply civilian hospitals in Da Nang, too?”

“Yes, for relief medicines. But a certified requisition from the Vietnamese government office is absolutely required.”

“How about the Red Cross Hospital, is it the same?”

“All they need is their own requisition. But why do you ask?”

“Someone asked me about it, that’s all.”

Yong Kyu left Turen with the raisins in the afternoon. He deposited the goods in a conex at the pier and returned to the office in Le Loi market. Thach had hung a hammock next to his desk and was taking a nap in the shade. A cool breeze blew through the window.

“Mr. Nguyen Thach, please wake up.”

Yong Kyu rocked the hammock, but its swinging motion only seemed to deepen the man’s sleep. He licked his lips and tilted his head sideways.

“Wake up!” Yong Kyu spoke in a louder voice and held the hammock still. Thach looked up at him with a frown.

“I’m sorry,” Yong Kyu said, “but this is important.”

Thach pulled himself out of the hammock and took a seat in a steel chair without a word. Finally he raised his head and said, “What is it?”

“You’ve got to introduce me to a clerk at Puohung Company.”

Thach took his time before responding. He poured some cool green tea from a plastic pitcher and drank it slowly. “Can you get me antibiotics?”

“I never said I could get them myself. I’ll put you in touch with a man who may be able to get some for you.”

“Who’s the man?”

“The director of the Red Cross Hospital in Da Nang.”

“It all sounds very uncertain.”

“True, he might refuse. But one thing is for sure. Apart from the Vietnamese military, it’s about the only place you will find that has a flow of medical supplies.”

Thach let out a short laugh. “I’m also aware of that. But there’s no guarantee the Red Cross Hospital will siphon off medical supplies from the American army. And if he gets offended and reports me to the authorities I’d be vulnerable and end up spending lots of money for nothing. So, under these circumstances, I can’t introduce you to anyone at Puohung Company.”

Yong Kyu grew impatient. The Vietnamese never trusted foreigners. Any competent merchant in Le Loi market could easily see through men like him and Toi. And wasn’t old man Hien, the owner of Puohung Company, an even bigger merchant than Cuong? Hien’s men would never trust Toi, let alone Yong Kyu, and any attempt to approach them would be reported instantly to their boss. Without help from Thach as a trusted intermediary, there would be no success in establishing contacts with Puohung.

“All right,” Yong Kyu said. “I’ll find out what he thinks about it and then I’ll introduce you. Will that satisfy you?”

“Certainly.”

“And the information on NLF dealings?”

Before Yong Kyu went on, Thach held his finger to his lips. “Shhh, that’s no simple matter. The details on how much of which items have been transferred to whom is recorded in detail in daily reports and submitted to the concerned American authorities. Go out in the market right now and try to buy a captured weapon. It doesn’t matter whether you’re in uniform or not.”

“What do you mean, ‘captured weapon’?”

Nguyen Thach laughed softly. “Go out to one of the street stalls in the back alley over there and say you want to buy some personal firearms. Let’s suppose a company commander who has no real accomplishments to brag about in field operations is in need of captured weapons. His promotion and reputation require military exploits more than anything else. His adjutants and sergeants often put in an appearance at the market to purchase ‘captured weapons.’ Where did you get that six-shot revolver of yours?”

“My predecessor bought it in the market.”

“See what I mean? If the price is right, loads of guns will be delivered to wherever you want.”

“Can they be traced?”

“Never. Even if you arrest the dealer and interrogate him, it’d be pointless. The chain of transactions moves endlessly up. The links keep circling back upon themselves. It’s like being adrift on a great ocean, constantly floating up and down on endless swells.”

Yong Kyu understood. “If so, it’s imperative for us to be in the know.”

“As I said, I can give you daily information.” Thach then asked Yong Kyu, “So what do you think I want?”

“Since you’re a trader, I expect you’ll be wanting money, profits.”

Thach responded lightly. “Not necessarily. I’ve got an idea. Once you find out some of the details of the transactions of Puohung Company, share that information with me every day. You and I will exchange information, what do you say?”

An interesting proposal, Yong Kyu thought. But what were his motives? Thach was well aware of Yong Kyu’s intention to bribe a clerk in order to get filled in on the company’s dealings. In effect, that was what Thach himself had suggested, and he was about to make the introduction. If Thach was so interested in the Puohung transactions, why had he not bribed the clerk himself? Most of all, why was he so curious about Puohung Company? Yong Kyu decided to just ask.

“What do you gain from information on Puohung Company? And how come you don’t find out such things yourself?”

“Ha, ha. I’m sure it puzzles you. It’s like the graduations on the bridges. Have you seen the water level graduations marked on the bridge pillars?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Without those graduations, you’d have no way of gauging whether the level of water was going up or down, whether the flow is increasing or decreasing.”

“Are you saying that the transactions of Puohung provide a scale of some kind?”

“For instance, it’s crucial to know the price of dollars in international markets. Similarly, the Le Loi market is an economy formed through circulation of goods from the US PXs in Da Nang. As you already know, Puohung is the only company that deals directly with the American soldiers. What is important is knowing precise details of those transactions.”

“You mean A-rations?”

“Right. Those items are bought and consumed by Vietnamese civilians who have a steady US dollar income. Oranges and apples are nothing like nuoc mam noodles or bánh mì. In this market it’s very useful to know in advance the trend of changes in A-ration prices. If you get current information on supply and demand, then you can have a rough picture of price movements. The ones who run the black market are also the ones who buy A-rations. With the money they earn from trading in guns, they may buy gold or opium, but they also have to eat like everybody else and their menu is as sumptuous as the profits they are earning from black market dealings. In short, the customers for A-rations are the very people who make up the black market. A-rations are an indicator of price trends and shifts in supply and demand throughout the Da Nang markets. I’m just trying to be ready in case there’s a panic.”

“What kind of panic?”

“We’ve been through a couple of panics in the last few years. The military currency changes sometimes. When that happens, the GI notes turn into wastepaper overnight. The finance section in the US forces command makes an announcement one night and replaces the military currency faster than lightning strikes. Vietnamese merchants who hold the superseded money can become beggars overnight. Everybody knows that currency control is also treated as an operational matter. To be closely informed about the daily transactions of Puohung Company is something my brother and I are very interested in, like other merchants in the market. Do you understand now?”

“I do. And as for my other question . . .”

“What was that? Oh, yes, you asked why I wouldn’t gather the information myself. Because it costs money to do that. If I need daily information, it’ll cost me money every day. Since I know many of the merchants from outside Da Nang who are on the NLF side, if I go out into the market and look around I’ll have a pretty good estimate of what merchandise is moving where for the NLF. In that way I can gather the information you need without spending any money, but to keep track of that old snake Hien I would have to dip into my pockets every day, so . . .”

Thach broke into laughter and slapped Yong Kyu on the back. But Yong Kyu did not find it funny. “It isn’t fair.”

“No, you’ve got it backwards. You people came empty-handed to a marketplace in another embattled country and are making money for yourselves here.”

“Many of us have died in the fighting.”

“You’re soldiers.”

But Nguyen Thach did not drag things out. He went back over to the hammock and, sitting in it, said, “While you go to meet with the hospital director, I’ll get back to my siesta that was interrupted. If he agrees, then we can all meet together. That should be the order in which we proceed, don’t you think?”

Yong Kyu just nodded. Reclining in the hammock, Thach stretched one leg down and lightly kicked the floor. The hammock began to swing back and forth. Yong Kyu picked up the telephone and asked the operator to connect him with the Red Cross Hospital. When he was put through he asked to speak with the director himself.

“The director is at home right now,” the hospital operator said. “You should call him at home or else call back in an hour, please.”

He quietly replaced the receiver. Thach seemed to be asleep, his arms listlessly hanging down. Yong Kyu checked his watch. He pictured Dr. Tran’s two-story residence next to the customs house. He drove his van to the gate outside the customs house and pulled up to park in front of Tran’s house. As he pushed open the leaf-patterned iron gate, he heard the fierce barking of a dog. He was relieved to see that Gene had been chained to his kennel at the far corner of the lawn. A brown canvas-topped Jeep was parked in the driveway beneath the front hall. He couldn’t see anyone inside until he had gone up the steps to the front door. After looking around he noticed a stick above the glass door from which a copper bell was hanging. Inside the bell there was a heavy clapper and a doubled leather cord. When he pulled down on it, the cord sprang back and rang the bell. The clear low peal brought Madame Hue out from inside. She was dressed in black Vietnamese pants and a white blouse. When she spoke, Yong Kyu asked in broken Vietnamese whether the doctor was in.

She went back inside and a moment later the portly figure of Dr. Tran appeared, putting on his gold-rimmed glasses as he came through the front hall to the door. Yong Kyu, standing there in his civilian clothes, saluted.

“How are you, sir? I’m Sergeant Ahn, the Korean.”

Dr. Tran did not seemed surprised to see him. But his voice was cold. “What brought you here, Sergeant Ahn?”

“There’s something I need to see you about.”

Tran opened the door. “Come in, please.”

Madame Hue had been watching them. Tran had Yong Kyu sit on the same long wicker sofa where he had sat to have his arm bandaged the other night.

“Is your arm fully healed?” Tran asked.

“Yes, sir, some time ago. It was nothing serious.”

“What’s on your mind, then?” Tran asked with the affected indifference of a mature Vietnamese man.

“Is your son, Huan, at school?”

Tran’s expression softened. “He’ll be back soon. Today is a busy day for me. This afternoon student volunteers will be at the hospital; the girls come every Friday to care for the patients.”

Improvising, Yong Kyu grabbed at the tail of Tran’s remark. “That’s precisely why I’ve come, sir. Our investigation headquarters would like to be of some help to your hospital. I suppose you have many children as patients?”

“Yes, about a third of all the patients are children. What kind of aid can you provide?”

“Well, nothing special in mind, but we thought it might be good to send some gifts the children would like.”

Tran’s face by this time wore a much softer expression than at the beginning.

“I have a little brother about Huan’s age back home.”

“I heard that you have a lot of war orphans back in Korea, too. Wars are even crueler to children.”

Yong Kyu looked around at Dr. Tran’s comfortable living room, cooled by an air conditioner. There was an ivory elephant from Thailand, a stereo, a wet bar stocked with a variety of liquors, a Bengal tiger skin, potted flowers, and other ornaments that seemed to have no connection to the wretched war orphans. Tran wore a gold ring on his plump hand and was stuffing a pipe with Turkish tobacco.

“Do you get the medical supplies you need?” Yong Kyu asked.

Dr. Tran clicked his tongue. “In times like these, medicines are always in demand, no matter how much you can get. Of course, it depends on individual cases, but when treatment is extended, the out-patients keep coming back even after they are discharged from the hospital, and we never have enough for them all.”

“Where do you get your supplies?”

Dr. Tran was about to strike a match to light his pipe, but paused and rolled his eyes. “Our relief medicines come from neutral countries or from some of the Allied forces. Generally, items needed for emergencies are supplied with the help of the American military.”

Madame Hue brought in two glass bowls filled with fruit salad. Picking up a cherry with a silver spoon bearing the design of a monkey, Yong Kyu reflected that in all likelihood he was being served an item he himself had taken out of Turen.

“As I understand it, the hospitals affiliated with army headquarters rely entirely on American supplies for their medicines, and the Americans have no shortage of medicines.”

“They’re soldiers,” Dr. Tran said with a sigh, “but they don’t give the same priority to civilians.”

“Would you like to be supplied with more antibiotics and painkillers?”

“How?” Dr. Tran immediately asked, setting down his bowl.

“The American supply corps is interested in supporting civilian welfare as part of psychological operations. You should send an official letter to the commander of the American supply corps. It’s also a good idea to send him statistics showing the number of patients and their clinical needs. For instance, you can make a request for antibiotics or painkillers corresponding to the number of out-patients as well as in-patients.”

“I did that once before, but they just told me to direct such requests to the Vietnamese military hospitals.”

“Naturally. It’s because you, sir, don’t understand how the military operates. Even the navy hospital only receives its own share from the supply corps according to the number and conditions of their own patients. But if you make a request direct to the supply corps, they’ll make inquiries to the headquarters section in charge of support for civilian welfare. To improve treatment for civilian war casualties could be seen as having a positive psychological impact on the civilian sector.”

“Thank you. You’ve given me a good approach. But I fear it won’t be as easy as you think.”

“Whatever the goal, it is always hard to set a precedent. For the American army, no principle is more important in military administration than following precedents. True, it’s difficult to get something approved, but once it’s put in force you can expect the model to be followed.”

“You have a point. The navy hospital’s reply was a short message simply saying there was no precedent for the request.”

“I can suggest one more thing, sir. If you can set a precedent with medical items that are easy to get approval for, they’ll give you almost any amount you request. I know of a certain village that was supplied with thousands of bottles of salt.”

“Salt?”

“To prevent heatstroke, each soldier gets a daily ration of about five salt pills. Some villages in the jungle asked a nearby troop installation for salt to make nuoc mam. Once it was approved, hundreds of crates of salt pills started to arrive. Instead of requesting cord to weave fishing nets, it is easier to request canned sardines, even if they aren’t quite to your liking. Make a request for Terramycin and I’m sure you’ll get it.”

“We need all kinds of medicine.”

“Of course. But the important thing is making it easy to get the approval. First, get a large supply of Terramycin and then you can sell it.”

“Sell it? To whom?”

“Why, to the merchants.”

Dr. Tran’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he murmured, “And is the investigation headquarters also carrying out a mission of promoting the black market?”

This time Yong Kyu had his reply prepared. “It’s easy enough to buy medicines. If you simply send a request for donations to the headquarters it will be refused, but isn’t it true that you can get all items and in any quantity if you buy them? When the main road is closed, you find an alley and make a detour.”

Dr. Tran said nothing, and just kept whirling his silver spoon around and around in the fruit salad. After a while he spoke. “Why point this out to me?”

“Because of a Vietnamese friend of mine,” Yong Kyu admitted truthfully. “He’s a very clever trader. Knowing that the price of medicines is high in the present market, he asked me a favor.”

“Do you know his name?”

“Yes. I’m sure you’ve heard of a merchant named Nguyen Cuong?”

“I have,” Dr. Tran said curtly.

“This friend of mine is his younger brother, a man by the name of Nguyen Thach. He’s the one who wants to buy antibiotics.”

“Is that the only reason you came here?”

“No, sir. I came to be friends with Huan, too. I’d like to take him out and buy him a little gift, if I may?”

“I appreciate that.”

“I know something about the Turen supply warehouse. If you can manage to get some assistance from the provincial government office, then you’ll get all the supplies you need.”

“Well, I’m running late. I have to be back at the hospital.”

Dr. Tran extended his hand as he got to his feet. Yong Kyu held out his hand and said, “Would you care to meet Mr. Nguyen Thach?”

“Give me a ring,” Tran replied, revealing no sign of emotion, his expression again as stony as it was before.

This time Yong Kyu did not salute but instead bowed before turning to leave.

Upon arriving at Thach’s office in Le Loi market, Yong Kyu found Thach gone and Toi was in the hammock instead.

“I’ve been making rounds all morning with your chief sergeant. He drove and I had to handle all the bickering with the bar and club owners.”

Yong Kyu paused a moment before saying anything. “What do you think? Despite his demeanor, I think Nguyen Thach is a special kind of man.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knows more about the market than anybody else. Maybe even more than old man Hien.”

“He went to Hue University,” Toi said. “A very intelligent man he is.”

Yong Kyu let Toi in on the thoughts that had been crossing his mind. “I’m beginning to think that working with only Thach as a middleman may be disadvantageous for us. He’s not a partner, just a dealer. Do we need to share his office?”

“Got a point there. But we shouldn’t make him suspicious.”

“He’ll have no reason to suspect us just because we move out of his place. After all, he’s known from the beginning about our identity.”

“Let’s provoke him on some business matter, then we can assess his response. I mean, that way, he may come to us with the suggestion that we leave.”

“What would provoke him?”

“I can think of something. He’s got only one sore spot.”

With his eyes, Yong Kyu told Toi to go on. He lowered his voice before continuing.

“Let’s pretend we’re rooting out an NLF dealer here in Da Nang.”

Yong Kyu shook his head. “He’s the one who’s supposed to be filling us in on the NLF dealings. We’ve already agreed that I’ll get details on old man Hien’s business and swap the information for his.”

Toi chuckled. “That’s why you’re still green. He may gulp down the whole bird himself and hand you a feather at a time. He can’t fool me, though. His being so curious about old man Hien’s deals is just a feint, a gesture. If he hadn’t said that, he might have succeeded in fooling us. It’s possible that he’s not working for the NLF, but there’s no doubt that he’s making profits through their channels.”