course.”
“Let's be clear, this must have nothing to do with your relationship with my father.”
Ky allowed himself a moment of reflection. He wondered what it was the girl had to trade, if she had not come at her father's request. He leaned forward and allowed his eyes to drop insolently to her body. He exhaled a long stream of cigarette smoke and smiled. “Perhaps you had better tell me what you want.”
“It's about a man called Baptiste Crocé.”
“I've never heard of him.”
“He's a pilot. Last year, before the monsoon, he was arrested by your men at Ban Me Thuot and his plane was impounded.”
“Had he broken the laws of the Republic of Viet Nam?'
“He had a certain amount of opium on board his plane.”
Ky shook his head. “Very bad. A great evil in our country, Mademoiselle Bonaventure. A great evil.”
“He was sentenced to five years imprisonment.”
Ky made no comment.
“I want to know what I have to do to get him released.”
The Colonel drew on his cigarette and raised an eyebrow. “And you say this request is not from your father?'
“It's from me.”
Ky shook his head. “Impossible.”
Noelle reached into her purse and withdrew the black box her father had given her. She opened it. Ky stared at the ruby glinting in the nest of velvet like an ember in a slow fire. He picked up the necklace with the fingers of his right hand, felt its weight.
Nothing is impossible, Colonel Ky.”
“You're serious?'
“I would not want to waste your time. I realise you are a busy man.”
Ky sighed and sat back. He would have to think carefully about this. “This is a very unusual situation,” he said.
“Unusual?'
“Your father does not like this man very much.”
“So you do remember him?'
“Perhaps.” He replaced the necklace in the velvet-lined box. She took it back and it snapped shut between her fingers.
“Was it my father who arranged for him to be arrested?'
“Your father is a citizen of another country. he has no influence on the internal affairs of the Republic of Viet Nam.”
“Of course he has!'
The drinks arrived. Ky raised his glass in toast but Noelle ignored him. “I am not at liberty to discuss my conversations with your father. Even with you.”
“All right then, I'll ask you a much simpler question. What do you want in return for the release of Baptiste Crocé?'
Ky looked at the black case and wondered what the necklace was worth. Was it enough to risk the friendship of Rocco Bonaventure?
“If you should find a way to get him released, I would be happy to present you with this gift as a token of my appreciation. For your wife perhaps.”
“It's not enough.”
Noelle bit her lip. “Then how much do you want?'
“It might perhaps serve as a down payment, but you should understand, I am already a rich man. What would I want with more jewellery?'
“So what do you want?'
Ky again allowed his eyes to travel over her body. This time they lingered. “Just how badly do you want to see this man again, Mademoiselle Bonaventure? Because I will tell you this, nobody survives five years in that place. Jungle rot gets them, and Westerners are very prone to disease. And there are a lot of knife fights. I am surprised he has lasted this long. He must be very tough.”
“Name your price,” she said.
***
Chevrons of yellow sunlight angled through the dusty bamboo blinds. The fan rumbled overhead, she heard the clatter of mah jong tiles from the next room, the cry of the hawkers from the street outside. There was a strong taint of incense and anise and ginger.
Noelle hugged her arms to her breasts. What if her father was right? What if Baptiste Crocé turned out to be a waster and a drinker and a womaniser?
To hell with it.
I love him. I've come this far. There's no going back now.
***
Colonel Ky picked up the hard-backed chair next to the ancient armoire and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. He would have liked to have taken her
“Let's be clear, this must have nothing to do with your relationship with my father.”
Ky allowed himself a moment of reflection. He wondered what it was the girl had to trade, if she had not come at her father's request. He leaned forward and allowed his eyes to drop insolently to her body. He exhaled a long stream of cigarette smoke and smiled. “Perhaps you had better tell me what you want.”
“It's about a man called Baptiste Crocé.”
“I've never heard of him.”
“He's a pilot. Last year, before the monsoon, he was arrested by your men at Ban Me Thuot and his plane was impounded.”
“Had he broken the laws of the Republic of Viet Nam?'
“He had a certain amount of opium on board his plane.”
Ky shook his head. “Very bad. A great evil in our country, Mademoiselle Bonaventure. A great evil.”
“He was sentenced to five years imprisonment.”
Ky made no comment.
“I want to know what I have to do to get him released.”
The Colonel drew on his cigarette and raised an eyebrow. “And you say this request is not from your father?'
“It's from me.”
Ky shook his head. “Impossible.”
Noelle reached into her purse and withdrew the black box her father had given her. She opened it. Ky stared at the ruby glinting in the nest of velvet like an ember in a slow fire. He picked up the necklace with the fingers of his right hand, felt its weight.
Nothing is impossible, Colonel Ky.”
“You're serious?'
“I would not want to waste your time. I realise you are a busy man.”
Ky sighed and sat back. He would have to think carefully about this. “This is a very unusual situation,” he said.
“Unusual?'
“Your father does not like this man very much.”
“So you do remember him?'
“Perhaps.” He replaced the necklace in the velvet-lined box. She took it back and it snapped shut between her fingers.
“Was it my father who arranged for him to be arrested?'
“Your father is a citizen of another country. he has no influence on the internal affairs of the Republic of Viet Nam.”
“Of course he has!'
The drinks arrived. Ky raised his glass in toast but Noelle ignored him. “I am not at liberty to discuss my conversations with your father. Even with you.”
“All right then, I'll ask you a much simpler question. What do you want in return for the release of Baptiste Crocé?'
Ky looked at the black case and wondered what the necklace was worth. Was it enough to risk the friendship of Rocco Bonaventure?
“If you should find a way to get him released, I would be happy to present you with this gift as a token of my appreciation. For your wife perhaps.”
“It's not enough.”
Noelle bit her lip. “Then how much do you want?'
“It might perhaps serve as a down payment, but you should understand, I am already a rich man. What would I want with more jewellery?'
“So what do you want?'
Ky again allowed his eyes to travel over her body. This time they lingered. “Just how badly do you want to see this man again, Mademoiselle Bonaventure? Because I will tell you this, nobody survives five years in that place. Jungle rot gets them, and Westerners are very prone to disease. And there are a lot of knife fights. I am surprised he has lasted this long. He must be very tough.”
“Name your price,” she said.
***
Chevrons of yellow sunlight angled through the dusty bamboo blinds. The fan rumbled overhead, she heard the clatter of mah jong tiles from the next room, the cry of the hawkers from the street outside. There was a strong taint of incense and anise and ginger.
Noelle hugged her arms to her breasts. What if her father was right? What if Baptiste Crocé turned out to be a waster and a drinker and a womaniser?
To hell with it.
I love him. I've come this far. There's no going back now.
***
Colonel Ky picked up the hard-backed chair next to the ancient armoire and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. He would have liked to have taken her
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