"Sohn and the ambassador didn't get along," I said. "I don't know why. I doubt very much that the ambassador killed him, though. You may think we are a little crude in our ways, M. Beret, but murder is not normally part of the routine. That's about all I can tell you, because it's everything I know."
"Really? You must know something more about Sohn. Don't tell me you were simply overjoyed to run across a compatriot in a foreign city. Overjoyed compatriots don't follow each other according to prearranged patterns."
I had to laugh. "I should have realized that people who kept such close track of their soap would be very observant about everything else. Everything and nothing. Because on this one, you'll have to brace yourself for disappointment. I really didn't know him. In case you haven't received the report yet, I did go to see the dungeon at Chillon the other day, and if you want to throw me in there you can. It would be pleasant to sit in one of those cells this summer and listen to the waves against the stone foundations. No matter what you say or how much you turn on your Swiss charm, I can't tell you any more about Sohn, because I don't know anything about him, nothing that you apparently don't already have in your files. In fact you probably know a great deal more about him than I do. I'll bet you have hollowed out an entire mountain to hold all the paper. Surely you must have other people you can ask. It seems to me that you have multiple sources, all the way to New York."
"I don't trust them. I never trust them. Besides, that's not exactly the question, is it, Inspector? I'm not asking about his patrimony. I'm not asking you for background, for his gymnasium report card. I want to know why he arrived here yesterday, and why you met him."
"You say he was here several times before. Apparently he liked the place, though I must tell you, I can't imagine why."
M. Beret pointed to the plate of cheese.
2
"You Chinese breed like monkeys, is what I hear."
I looked stoically out at the gray waters of the lake. After leaving M. Beret at the Sunflower, I'd walked to the lake to sit and be alone. Some things are not fated, even if you do your best. I did my best to ignore the woman; some people give up and go away if you pretend to ignore them. It also sometimes works if you indicate that you do not understand the language.
"Rabbits, not monkeys, that's what I meant." The woman sat down and took off her gloves. She seemed not to notice I wasn't responding. "It must be difficult for you here. Not much familiar to eat. God knows, we eat the normal things. I'll bet you wish you had something to remind you of home. I heard there are a lot of Chinese restaurants on Quai du Mont-Blanc. I wouldn't know, but you might try one of them."
"I think you are mistaken." I still didn't look at her. Maybe she'd think I was meditating in the fading afternoon light.
"No, they're over there." She pointed across the lake, her finger in front of my nose. "Of course, I've never tried one, myself. I don't eat that sort of food." She didn't stop to explain or pause before going on to the next subject. I'd met people like her before. Ideas seemed to take control of their brains in rapid-fire order. It was not good for work that required plodding persistence. But it must be good for something, maybe a survival trait, assuming it wasn't simply a loose connection. "Most Chinese girls that I've seen are okay. But a few are ugly. I'm sorry to say that, it seems unkind, but I guess if you've got a billion people, you're bound to get some real dogs. You ever eat dog? I don't think I could."
"I'm not Chinese." I finally turned to look at her. Her hands were pretty, long tapered fingers. She probably played Rachmaninoff on the piano, but I wasn't going to start a conversation on anything with her, certainly not about composers. Who knew where it would lead. I only wanted her to go away.
"Not Chinese? You could have fooled me." When I didn't reply, she tried again. "Japanese?"
"In the Orient, you are granted three guesses. You have only one guess left." She seemed to crave mystery.
"Mongolian," she said and closely examined my face. "I wouldn't have thought so; you don't have those cheekbones they have. Marvelous cheekbones. Well, no matter, it's good to see Mongolians getting out and about again. I haven't seen one in years and years. Perhaps it has something to do with the food, do you think? We have lamb in some of the restaurants, you know, though we probably prepare it differently. I hope you won't take offense at my thinking you are Chinese." She smiled and bowed slightly, as she had no doubt seen in the movies. "Mongolians are herders, isn't that right? I heard it is thanks to the Mongols that we invented croissants, though I cannot remember exactly why. Perhaps you're familiar with the story. I imagine it is taught in your schools."
"No, we have no schools. Herders have no need of education. We know only the wind in the grass and the warmth of mare's milk. We use women like cattle. Good day to you." I stood up and gave her what I imagined might be a herdsman's leer.
Chapter Three
"Somebody, surely, somebody stayed awake all the way through their presentation and took notes." The delegation head looked around the table. "If we don't have any notes, we can't send a report back. And if we don't send a report, there will be a nasty telegram tomorrow from the ministry. I don't like nasty telegrams on a Saturday."
The room was silent.
"The rule has always been that the youngest one, no matter what, fills that job. Miss Ho?"
"I got most of it."
"Most isn't all. What was the problem?"
"He was reading out loud from that document. He droned on and on. If he'd done it this morning, I might have been able to keep conscious the whole time, but after lunch…"
"Nobody else? What about you, Paek?"
"Paek was sound asleep," someone muttered.
"I got a good part of his opening remarks." Mr. Paek was an elderly man with a dignified bearing and doleful eyes. "But then I lost him. I think my hearing failed. I don't think I've ever been so bored. It was making me deaf."
They all laughed. "Well, patch together what you can and fill in the rest as needed." The delegation head took off his glasses. "I want the cable ready to go out before dinner. The ambassador will insist on seeing it. He's not in a good mood, and I don't want to give him any excuse to chew me out. What about you?" He turned to me. "What are your thoughts on what went on today?"
I didn't have any thoughts, at least not on today's proceedings. I was still thinking about yesterday and the morgue. I'd gone there not long after leaving the woman on the bench; she'd probably gone home and slept fitfully, dreaming of Mongolian herdsmen riding croissants, thundering across the steppes to attack the citadels of the West. M. Beret had let me in the back door of an old building, escorted me down dark corridors, and led me finally into a room with a single ceiling lamp hanging from a long cord. I didn't need more light than that to tell it was Sohn. For some reason, I was glad he was in a place with worn wooden floors.
"And what did you observe?"
"Observe?" I thought about it for a moment, until I realized the delegation leader wasn't asking me about Sohn's body. "Diplomatic fencing isn't exactly my specialty."
"Really, I would have thought human nature was something the police would follow very closely."
"It is, only we deal with people in a more natural habitat than this. We don't have to cope with quite so much honey on the lies."
"True, there is a lot of that. We honey the lies, and poison the truth. Odd, isn't it?" He idly flipped through his small notebook. "There isn't anything in here, did you know that, Inspector? I take it out and look through it when the other side starts trying to bully me. They think it has instructions in it. I select a page, remove my glasses and squint intently at this little piece of blank paper. They're not sure if I'm listening. Half the time it make them nervous. The other half, they get huffy. Once in a while, they even stop talking until I close the notebook and look up. Sometimes they're like young children, very self-important."