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Jonathan Snodgrass was sitting at his desk looking across at Captain Sue Lee Ono, “What an extraordinarily beautiful woman.” He was in the same room with her back in San Francisco at the Presidio Army base during a debriefing; he was most impressed by her actions.
“Please let me introduce myself. I’m Sir Jonathan Snodgrass. Perhaps you remember. I was present at your debriefing in San Francisco, nasty business with that phony priest. Please understand my job was to only observe. No introduction, I do apologize for that.”
“You are the father of the flying doctor, Sir?”
“No, Jane is my brother’s daughter. Our family would like to express our gratitude for saving Jane’s life.” He paused, there was a tap on the door, his secretary came in with tea and cakes. “I hope you don’t mind. I ordered tea for us,” He said after she left.
They moved to a comfortable couch and chair. Jonathan was grateful when she offered to be the mother pouring for both.
Sue Lee sipped her tea before saying, “Your niece is a very determined woman; apparently, she flies on her own around Spain, giving her medical services to those in need. You must be very proud,” She said, reaching for a cake.
“She is sometimes a big headache for all of us, especially me, but she is my favorite niece. Sometimes I wonder if she is brave or foolish, but she has always had an ardent spirit. After her father had died, we sent her off to boarding school during her teens. They suspended her after her first semester when asked why. She said they had to walk around in unbecoming uniforms to stop everyone from being an individual. Jane refused, then led a revolt to ban them. It was quite an embarrassment for the family. You see, it was her mother’s Alma Mater.”
Sue Lee could tell he was proud of her zealousness. “Everything worked out; she became a brilliant doctor. The flying surgeon we are all proud of, again our sincere thanks,” He said, toasting her with his raised cup.
Sue Lee wished she had more time with Dr. Jane. She would have liked her, but she was glad to be with her clandestine uncle, whom she sensed had other reasons for meeting with her.
“That’s not the only reason you asked me here, is it, sir?” Sue Lee set her cup down, ready to listen.
Sir Jonathan sat back and steepled his hands over his ample midsection. He was a big man dressed in fine tweeds. His bushy eyebrows narrowed, and his gray eyes looked at her over the glasses, pinched on his nose.
Sue Lee noticed his receding white hairline, precisely parted on the right side. She guessed he was in his early sixties. He had an air of confidence about him that Sue Lee liked.
She knew he commanded a British Secret Service division known only as MI6, working closely with Winston Churchill.
“This is all unofficial, but I wanted to meet to share with you what I have learned about your father’s death. It may help both of us with some unanswered questions.” He took a sip of tea. Sue Lee was surprised when he mentioned her father but said nothing. “While stationed in Singapore in 1922, like other British families, my wife Lucie and I were involved in the social improvements of Singapore. One passion of ours was the Raffles Library and the Raffles collection that later became the Museum of Singapore. The library was a center of research for scholars en route to Malaya, Indonesia, China, and Japan. My wife Lucie, along with other families, housed these traveling scholars while they were in Singapore. One of our guests was Sir Edward Lang. He was doing a study in Ethnography, gathering data on human societies on an island in the Chugoku region, the westernmost part of Japan’s main island Honshu.” Sir Jonathan reached for a cake, then continued. “Archeological evidence shows that iron swords were produced throughout this area since the Kofun period. In January 1922, Sir Edward Lang sent a letter to the museum. The letter stated he had an extraordinarily fine he wanted to donate it to the Raffles collection. On his return to Singapore in May, he was killed on the street, not too far from the museum. The local police declared it a robbery-killing. My section looked into it, finding some puzzling answers. He had left Japan in February, but after that, there were two months unaccounted for. If it were not for my consulting with your army counterintelligence sitting in on your debriefing, I would not have looked back into these old files, he said, reaching for the folder between them. The one very unusual thing is this Japanese script found in his wallet.”
“But you said it was a robbery; why would he still have a wallet with him.” Sue Lee asked.
“Correct, one of the many reasons we started our investigation.” He answered as he opened the folder and carefully unfolded rice paper with Japanese symbols before handing it to Sue Lee.
“Falling Flowers,” Sue Lee said, reading out loud.
“Yes, and I believe you said during the debriefing back in San Francisco, the village of falling flowers, correct? I also read your report about the Japanese pilot. You found the same message in his Omamori, very perplexing, isn’t it? “He said, reaching for a serviette.
“But are the two messages meant to be the same?” She answered.
“I’m not sure, but there’s more.” Sir Jonathan reached into the folder and produced a package of old letters wrapped with a faded pink ribbon. “When I arrived back in England, I heard you were passing through on an assignment to France. By the way, congratulations, it was a total success, which I’m sure you know from your recent debriefing. Oh dear, it must exhaust you from all this talking. We could continue this discussion tomorrow?”