She replied, “I don’t charge.”
“You would be more honest if you did.”
So, having put Susan in her place, he turned his attention back to me and said, “Tran Van Vinh describes an argument between you and Miss Weber. He said she left his house without you, then you left some minutes later. Correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“Why?”
“We disagreed on many things during the journey, and finally disagreed on how best to get to Hanoi.”
He thought about that, then said, “And you both decided to take the train from Lao Cai.”
“I guess so, if we arrived together at Long Bien Station.”
“I knew where you were, and I knew you were going to Hanoi. You were not listed as an airline passenger, so I had the Long Bien Station watched as well as the bus terminal, and of course the Metropole Hotel and the American embassy in the event you took a car or your motorcycle to Hanoi.”
“How did you know we were on the tour bus?”
“Ah. The policeman who boarded the bus observed that the tour guide seemed nervous, but he did not want to cause a problem in front of your compatriots, so we waited.” Colonel Mang informed us, “You may meet the tour guide later in another part of this building.” He smiled and said, “I told you we would meet again in Hanoi.”
“What if we had gone to Ho Chi Minh City instead?”
He seemed happy to answer questions about how good he was at his job, and he replied, “If we were not sitting here, we would be in the same ministry in Ho Chi Minh City. Very little escapes our attention, Mr. Brenner.”
I should have left that alone, but I said, “You have no idea what escapes your attention.”
He smiled again. “You and Miss Weber did not escape my attention. Here you are.”
“You make a point.” I said to him, “The Immigration Police in this country are very relentless, Colonel. We could use such Immigration Police in America.”
He smiled again and replied, “Itinerary violations, illegal means of travel, and visa irregularities are serious matters, Mr. Brenner.”
“They must be to mount a nationwide manhunt for me and Ms. Weber.”
“Are we finished playing games?”
“I hope so. Are you Section A or B?”
He replied, “Section A. The equivalent of your Central Intelligence Agency.”
“Well, next time I come to Vietnam, I’ll apply for my visa earlier.”
He smiled yet again and said, “There will not be a next time.”
“Are we finished?”
“No. And do not ask again.”
I would have looked at my watch, but I remembered where it was.
So, we all sat while Susan, Mang, and the two goons smoked, and I inhaled secondhand smoke, and there wasn’t even a window to open. As if this place wasn’t unhealthy enough, there were old bloodstains on the floor, and the interrogator in the room behind me seemed to enjoy bouncing his guest off the wall, which made the light bulb sway.
Colonel Mang let us listen to the Vietnamese squash game next door for a while, then turned to Susan and asked her, “Why did you send a telex to Mr. Tin at the Century Hotel in Hue?”
Susan replied, “Mr. Brenner loaned his guidebook to a tour guide and asked that it be returned by Tuesday morning. It wasn’t, and I sent a telex asking if it had arrived. I’m sure you read the telex.”
He didn’t indicate that he had and asked Susan, “And what would you have done if the book was returned to the hotel? Drive back to Hue?”
“Of course not. I would have asked Mr. Tin to send it to us at the Metropole.”
He looked at me and asked, “And who was this guide you gave the book to?”
I think I’d run out of Nguyens, so I said, “I think his name was Mr. Han. A student.”
“Why would you give him your guidebook?”
“He asked to borrow it. Did I break another law?”
Even Colonel Mang saw the humor in that and smiled. Usually, though, when he smiled, it wasn’t a good sign. He said to me, “I have a confession to make.”
“Good, because I don’t.”
He continued, “I had you followed in Hue.”
I didn’t reply, and we all sat there awhile listening to someone being dragged screaming down the hallway. It could have been the tour guide.
Finally Colonel Mang said, “My colleagues lost sight of you, but they did report that your movements were those of a man who thought he was being followed.”
“What did you expect them to say? That I was sitting on a park bench, and they lost sight of me?”
He didn’t like that and turned to Susan. “And the same for you, Miss Weber. You moved in a suspicious manner.”
“I was shopping.”
“Ah, yes. For your disguises.”
“For suitable attire to travel to Dien Bien Phu.” She added, “I can tell you about my shopping in great detail if you’d like to hear about it.”
Neither Colonel Mang nor I warmed to that subject. Also, Mang may have thought he was barking up too many trees. In fact, he wasn’t, but I felt fairly sure that Mr. Anh was safe. But with Colonel Mang, you never knew what surprises he had in store.
He turned to me and asked, “Where is the motorcycle that you bought in Hue?”
“I sold it to an Australian in Lao Cai.”
“What was the name of this man?”
“Woman. Sheila something. Blond, blue-eyed, nice smile.”
Colonel Mang suspected I was jerking him around, but he played the game. He asked, “How much did you pay for it in Hue, and how much did you sell it for?”
“I paid three thousand American, but I could only get five hundred from the Aussie lady in Lao Cai.” I added, “She knew we had to catch a train, and she drove a hard bargain.”
“I see. And did you exchange any paperwork with this lady, or the person in Hue?”
“Colonel, I haven’t seen a sales receipt in this country since I’ve been here.”
He let that go and looked at Susan. “I have found your motorcycle keys in your apartment, but we can’t find your motorcycle. Can you help us?”
“It was stolen.”
“I think it is hidden.”
Susan asked him, “Doesn’t Section A have anything better to do than look for motorcycles?”
“In fact, Miss Weber, we do, which is why you are here.”
“I have no idea why I’m here.”
“You do.”
Susan told him, “I don’t think you know, Colonel.”
He informed her, “What I do not know, I always discover from the suspect.” He reminded both of us, “This is only a preliminary interrogation. The next interrogation is what you see and hear in these rooms. The final interrogation is in the basement. At that time, we will return to the subjects of the two policemen who were killed, and the soldiers who were killed, and other subjects, such as motorcycles, which need further explanation.”
I informed Colonel Mang, “Torture is the last resort of a stupid and lazy interrogator. And the confessions are useless.”
He looked at me as if he’d never heard this before, which he probably hadn’t. He asked me, “What do you know about interrogation?”
“I watch a lot of police shows on television.”
“Actually, I have been trying to find out more about you through my embassy in Washington.”
“I don’t know anyone there.”
“I do not like your sarcasm.”
“No one does.”
He returned to the subject of my past life and said, “We discovered that you retired from the American army last September, and that you held the rank of chief warrant officer.”
“I told you that at Tan Son Nhat.”
“But you were not clear about your job.”