“To Nha Trang. With this gentleman. Mr. Ambassador, may I introduce you to my friend, Paul Brenner.”
He never missed a beat or batted an eye as he turned to me and stuck out his hand. “Paul! Great meeting you!”
He had a good grip, and he liked to pump, so my Scotch splashed around. He said, “Welcome to our little gathering. Glad you could make it, Paul.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ambassador.”
“Call me Pat. So, you and Susan were in Nha Trang?”
“For a few days.”
“I have to get there. God, I’d love to travel more around this country.”
“It’s an adventure,” I told him.
“I’m sure it is. I’m sure it is.”
You can say that again. “It is.” I couldn’t tell if he knew who I was, or why I was in Vietnam, or if my appearance here was a surprise, a shock, or meaningless. The ambassador is almost always kept in the dark about what the spooks are doing, so he can deny it all later and sound sincere. But it struck me as odd that with two hundred other people here, he’d gone out of his way to charge across the lawn toward Susan. Of course, he probably wanted to fuck her, which could also explain his enthusiasm.
Susan was telling him about the Lao Cai train and the luggage, and he was hanging on every word and nodding sympathetically. He definitely wanted to fuck her, but that was the least of my problems, and in fact, maybe not my problem at all.
He said to Susan, “I’m sure Anne has something for you to wear.”
Susan replied, “I actually like my old jeans.”
He laughed. Ha ha. He turned to me, “Paul, can I get you a sport jacket?”
“Not if the lady is in jeans. I’m not that brave.”
Ha ha.
Susan told him, “Paul served with the army in Vietnam. We visited his battlefields.”
“Ah. Is this your first time back?”
“It is.”
“I was here with the navy. Off the coast. Never saw any real action.”
“You didn’t miss anything.”
He laughed and slapped my shoulder. He said, “As you know, Vice President Blake saw combat, too. Remind me later to introduce you. Well, I’m glad you both came despite your misadventures. Get yourselves something to eat. The Metropole is catering.”
He turned to Susan and said in a softer voice, “Bill Stanley was asking about you.” He looked at her. “You should let him know you’re here.”
“I will.”
Patrick Quinn moved back to his group on the lawn.
I finished my Scotch and said to Susan, “Is that guy for real?”
“He’s very charming.”
“Your taste in men worries me.”
She smiled and looked around. “There’s a buffet table. Do you want something to eat?”
“No. I get silly when I eat.” I handed my empty glass back to the bartender and he refilled it.
Susan asked, “Do you mind if I go find Bill?”
“Bill will find you, darling.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“No, I just feel so much safer when you’re at my side.”
She shrugged.
We moved around a little, and Susan knew a few people, mostly American businessmen and women who lived in Hanoi. There was a guy there from her Hanoi office, and they chatted awhile.
Meanwhile, I kept catching glimpses of Edward Blake getting his butt smooched.
Power.
Edward Blake was soon to become the most powerful man in the most powerful country that the world has ever known. And I had his balls in my hand. But if you’re going to squeeze the king’s balls, you better be ready for all the king’s men.
I glanced at Susan talking to her colleague. She was the wild card in this game.
A man approached me and put out his hand. “Hi, I’m John Eagan. You must be Paul Brenner.”
I took his hand and replied, “How many other people here are dressed like this?”
He smiled, then glanced at Susan and said to me, “Could I have a word with you?”
Susan noticed him, and I said to her, “I’ll be right back.”
John Eagan and I moved off to the far side of the lawn, behind the combo band, who were playing “Carry Me Back to Old Virginia.” I was getting homesick.
Eagan had a drink in his hand, and he touched my glass with his. “ Welcome to Hanoi.”
I said to him, “I’ll bet you didn’t think you’d be saying that tonight.”
He didn’t reply, and we stood there.
He was about forty, too young for the war, but he may have been military before becoming FBI. I had another thought that, if Susan was telling the truth that Eagan was her embassy contact, then he could be CIA. I’d learned not to believe anything I’d been told about this mission.
He said to me, apropos of nothing, “This place sucks.”
“What was your first clue?”
He smiled. “Training Viet narcs. They’re all on the take, and they grow opium in their backyards.”
I said to him, “Okay, you’ve established that you’re an FBI guy training the Vietnamese police. I believe every word of it. What can I do for you?”
He didn’t seem to appreciate my cynicism, and his demeanor changed. He asked me, “How did you wind up here tonight?”
“Where was I supposed to wind up?”
“At the Metropole, tomorrow.”
“What difference does it make?”
“Probably none.” He asked me, “So, how did it go?”
“How did what go?”
“Your trip.”
“Fine.”
“Can you be more specific?”
I said to him, “Look, I don’t know what you know, or what you’re supposed to know, or even who the hell you are. I’m supposed to contact you only if I’m in deep shit. I’m in deep shit. The police have my visa, and I want you to get me the fuck out of here tomorrow. I need to be debriefed in another country, and I need a visa or a diplomatic passport, and a plane ticket, and an embassy escort to the airport. Okay?”
He thought about that and asked me, “How did the police get your visa?”
“You’re not helping me with these questions, John.”
“Okay… here’s a piece of news for you. You’re going to be debriefed tonight. Here.”
“This is a CID homicide investigation. I only talk to my boss. Those were my last and only instructions.”
“You were told by Doug Conway and your boss that this is a joint investigation with the FBI. You can talk to me. What we’d like, Paul, is for us to meet in the Ambassador’s office at midnight.”
“You’re not listening to me, John.”
“Just be there, okay? We can resolve your exit at that time.”
“Who wants to see me?”
“Me, for one. Plus Colonel Goodman, the military attaché, and a gentleman from Saigon, who you met briefly at the cathedral, and maybe one or two others. We just need a little of your time before we send you on your way.”
I said to him, “I assume the VP is staying here tonight.”
“I can’t say for security reasons, but that would be a good assumption. Why do you ask?”
“I wanted to meet him.”
“I’ll try to arrange that.”
“I’ll also need a room here.”
“Why?”
“Because if I step outside these gates, I could be arrested.”
“Why?”
“I like scrambled eggs for breakfast.”
He looked at me. “Are we having a problem, Paul?”
“We are. And my traveling companion, Susan Weber, needs a room here, too. She’s in the same situation as I am.”
“This should be an interesting story.”
I said to him, “Just get me out of here. Fish and house guests smell after three days.” I turned and walked back toward the pavilion.