He lit a cigarette and squatted down with his back against the tree and began flicking the yo-yo to the length of its string, bringing it back with a little snap of his wrist into the palm of his dirty hand.
Nhan ran up the stairs and threw herself into Jaffe’s arms. He kissed her impatiently, then taking the newspaper from under her arm, he went back into his room and going over to the window, scanned the headlines. Finding nothing there, he turned the pages rapidly until he satisfied himself. He tossed the paper away, thinking he shouldn’t have expected any news yet. Well, at least, it meant the search for him hadn’t begun, and he let himself relax.
He looked over at Nhan who had taken off her conical-shaped hat and was arranging her hair in the mirror on the wall. Her doll-like beauty moved him, and he went over to her, picked her up and sat her on his knees. He felt her flinch and stiffen as he handled her and he looked at her, puzzled.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I? What “s the matter?”
She shook her head.
Nothing. You didn’t hurt me.” She took his hand in both of hers. “I’m worried. The police have been to see Blackie.”
Jaffe felt his heart give a little jump.
“Well, go on. How do you know?” he asked, staring at her.
Sitting bolt upright on his knees, she told him of Blackie Lee’s visit and what he had said. Jaffe listened, his face hard, his eyes uneasy.
So the hunt for him was on after all, he thought sourly. He should have known they would have found Haum’s body by now.
“Will he give you away?” he asked.
She tried to control a shiver of fear.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ve got to trust him. I don’t know anyone else who I can trust. Does he know your grandfather lives here?”
“I’ve never told him. I don’t think he does.”
“I’ve got to deal with him. I’ll have to meet him somewhere. Where can I meet him, Nhan? Not in Saigon. It’d be too risky, but not far from here. I’ll have to walk.”
“You could use my grandfather’s bicycle,” she said.
He hadn’t thought of a man so old as her grandfather having a bicycle. He brightened.
“That’s fine. Well now, where can we meet?”
She thought for a moment.
“There’s an old temple not far from here. It is not now used. You could meet there,” and she went on to describe where the temple was.
“Fine! Now look you tell him you have talked with me and I want to see him. Tell him to meet me at the temple at one o’clock tonight.”
Nhan nodded.
“How about your mother and your uncle?” he asked.
“It is all right.” She couldn’t bear the pain of sitting on his muscular knees any longer. Her back was still burning from her uncle’s beating. She slid off his knees and squatted down in front of him, her eyes dull with misery. “I have talked to them. They understand.”
Well that was something, Jaffe thought, but for all that, he was worried. If only he knew if he could trust the fat Chinese or not!
He looked down at Nhan and he suddenly realized how beautiful she was. The worry in her eyes, her small beautifully-shaped face gave his heart a jolt, and he felt an urgent need to make love to her. He got up and crossed to the door, pushing home the bolt.
“Come here,” he said and walking over to the bed, he sat on it.
She came to him reluctantly and stood between his knees while he undressed her: a thing he always liked to do.
When she was naked, he picked her up. His hand felt a hard ridge on her thigh. Startled, he laid her on the bed and rolled her over on her face. The sight of the livid weals on her golden flesh sent a rush of blood to his head.
His desire for her went away. He was aware of an extraordinary sensation which he had never experienced before. A feeling of rage that made him tremble violently took hold of him. In this blind furious moment, he suddenly realized that he loved this girclass="underline" something he hadn’t ever realized before. He felt a murderous desire to get his hands on the person who had inflicted such pain on her and smash that person to pieces.
“Who did it?” he asked, his voice harsh and violent.
Nhan began to cry, hiding her face in the pillow as if ashamed.
He couldn’t bear to look at the bruised and broken skin. Gently he put over her her blue tunic sheath, then he went to the window and with a shaking hand he lit a cigarette.
“Who did it?” he asked, softening his voice with an effort.
“It’s nothing,” Nhan sobbed. “Come to me, Steve. Please. It is nothing.”
I must have been mad to have involved her in this, he thought. I am a stinking, selfish sonofabitch.
He threw the cigarette out of the open window, unaware that he was showing himself to Yo-Yo who had moved to a position opposite the villa and who stared up at him as he squatted, in the shade, spinning his yo-yo.
Jaffe turned and went over to Nhan and took her in his arms He held her close to him, running his fingers through her hair. After a while she stopped crying and clung to him. She told him it was her uncle who had beaten her.
“It was his duty,” she said. “He will now feel he can lie to the police. It is better this way.”
Jaffe felt bad. He realized he had never treated her as anything but a pretty doll. He had used her when he had felt like it, and had dropped her when she had bored him. It was only now that he realized she was a human being with feelings, and he felt acutely ashamed of himself.
He decided then and there that he would marry her as soon as he possibly could and he would take her to Hong Kong with him. It pleased him to imagine her with him, to watch her delight when he bought her things, to see her astonishment when she saw America for the first time.
He stretched out beside her, holding her close to him and he talked. He told her what they would do together as soon as they were married and this time he was being sincere and he meant what he was saying.
While he spun his dreams, Nhan relaxed in his arms, her aching body forgotten, her slim fingers stroking the back of his neck, happier than she had ever been before in her life.
It wasn’t until just before seven o’clock that Yo-Yo saw her leave the villa and walk towards the bus stop.
He rose to his feet and slouched after her. He had had a satisfactory afternoon. He had rested in the shade and had been paid for doing nothing. This kind of job just suited Yo-Yo.
However, he was curious. During the long wait outside the villa, he had asked himself why Blackie Lee should have wanted one of his club girls watched. Who was the American he had seen at the window?
These questions, he told himself as the bus rattled towards Saigon, needed answering.
At the Central Market Nhan left the bus and took a pousse-pousse to the club. This surprised Yo-Yo who followed in another pousse-pousse. He watched her go up the stairs of the club, then shrugging, he crossed the street to where a food vendor squatted and sitting down beside him, bought a bowl of Chinese soup which he ate hungrily.
Blackie Lee was talking to the leader of the dance band when Nhan came into the deserted dance hall. He saw her immediately and leaving the leader of the dance band, he went to meet her.
“I told you not to come here,” he said. “Go away.”
“I have to talk to you,” Nhan said and he was surprised at her firmness. “It is about Mr. Jaffe.”
Blackie became immediately interested.
“Come into my office.”
When he had closed the office door, he sat down at his desk.
“Well, what is it?”
Nhan sat down gingerly. She was still feeling very happy because now she was sure that Jaffe loved her and they would be married and they would go to Hong Kong together. She had never been entirely convinced by anything Jaffe had said to her in the past, but this time she had seen by the expression in his eyes, he was being sincere and she told herself, the eyes of a man can’t lie. Shc was glad and grateful that her uncle had beaten her. The marks on her body had finally sparked off in Steve this new love. She felt confident now, and Blackie was aware of this new confidence.