“She’ll need some time to wrap up her personal and business affairs in Saigon. From here, of course. Then, we’ll arrange her safe exit from the country.”
“In other words, she’s a hostage.”
“I’m not following you.”
“We’re leaving together.”
“Not possible.”
“Make it possible.”
He told me something I already knew. “You’re on thin ice. Don’t stomp your feet.”
I asked Bill, “How worried are you right now?”
He turned and walked back into the sitting room.
I finished my coffee in the hallway and returned just as Susan came out of the bathroom. She’d found a tube of lipstick somewhere and had repainted herself.
One of the double doors to the Ambassador’s private office opened, and Patrick Quinn exited without his usual smile. He looked around, found his smile, and said, “Bill, Marc, John, Paul, Susan!”
He was into first names, like he’d aced the Dale Carnegie course. He said, “I know you have some business to attend to, so please make yourselves comfortable in my office.”
Everyone mumbled their thanks. I said to Patrick Quinn, “I was to remind you to introduce me to your friend, the Vice President.”
He looked at his watch and said, “I’ll see if he’s available.” He said to Colonel Goodman, “Marc, if you need anything, ring the guardhouse or the kitchen.” He said to everyone, “Thank you all for joining us tonight.” He left.
Whoever he was with in his office was still there, or had exited from the window.
We all moved toward the open door, Susan first, followed by Bill, Marc, and John.
I entered the dimly lit office last, and the first thing I noticed was a man sitting in a leather wing chair in the corner. He bore a striking resemblance to Karl Hellmann.
He stood and moved toward me with a smile. He put out his hand and said, “Hello, Paul.”
He even sounded like Karl, right down to the accent. I took his hand and said, “Hello, Karl.”
We were so thrilled to see each other, we could barely speak. I finally found my voice and said to him softly, “You’re a lying, double-dealing, devious son of a bitch.”
He replied, “I’m glad to see you’re well. I was worried about you. Please introduce me to Ms. Weber.”
“Introduce yourself.”
He turned to Susan and said, “I am K. Karl Hellmann. We’ve communicated by fax and e-mail.”
Susan said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Paul speaks so highly of you.”
“We hold each other in mutually high regard.” Karl said to the others, “Thank you for inviting me.”
Karl shook hands with Bill, Marc, and John, and from the snatches of conversation, I was able to determine that they’d never met, or pretended they’d never met or communicated, and that they were happy to make one another’s acquaintance. Karl said, “My flight arrived only an hour ago, and I haven’t checked into my hotel. So please bear with me if I seem somewhat forgetful.”
Everyone understood that bullshit.
I said to Karl, “Could I have a word with you?”
“Of course.”
We moved out into the sitting room, and I closed the door. I said to Karl, “You almost got me killed.”
“How could that be? I was in Falls Church. You look tired.”
“I’ve spent two fucking weeks in this hellhole, the last few days on a motorcycle on the run from the cops.”
“How was Nha Trang, by the way? Did I tell you I had a three-day R&R there?”
“Why are you here?”
“They asked me to come.”
“Why?”
“So you could be fully debriefed here, rather than Bangkok.”
“Why?”
“They’re very anxious about this.”
I pointed out, “They could debrief Susan here. She’s probably working for the CIA.”
“Well… it appears that you and she have developed a friendship, and they felt they needed to do this here and now.”
“What you mean is that they want to see whose side I’m on.”
“Whatever.”
“Can I assume you know what this is about?”
He saw the coffee setup and poured himself a cup. He asked me, “Do you think I could smoke here?” Without waiting for my answer, he lit a cigarette.
“Karl, do you know what this is about?”
He exhaled a stream of smoke and replied, “Actually, I was the first person to know. When the Tran Van Vinh letter landed on my desk, I thought about who to assign the case to. But the more I read the letter, the more intrigued I became with it. So, I assigned it to myself. I was able to determine the identity of the murdered man from my investigation of army files, combat records, and official unit histories. As you suggested in Washington, it was a fairly simple case of narrowing the list of men who served in Quang Tri City in February 1968. Lieutenant Hines, a MACV advisor, was killed in action at the Citadel on or about 7 February 1968. And his name is on the Wall. And then I came across the name of Captain Edward Blake, and I realized, of course, that I’d possibly found something of immense importance. Captain Blake was William Hines’s commanding officer, and most probably the only American First Cavalry captain he’d be in close contact with. Of course, I couldn’t be sure of that, and in fact, we’re still not sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Don’t be so sure.” He reminded me, “You don’t convict a man of murder on flimsy circumstantial evidence.”
“No. You blackmail him and let him become president of the United States.”
He looked around for an ashtray as he changed the subject and said, “She’s quite beautiful.”
“You haven’t seen her at 7 A.M. with a hangover.”
“She would still be beautiful. Is Mr. Stanley upset with you?”
“He may be actually relieved.”
“Ah.” Karl smiled, just a little, and flipped his ash in a potted plant. He said, “She strikes me as the type who may be too much to handle for any man. Even you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It was meant to be. So, I have just arrived and know almost nothing, except what the Ambassador has just told me.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Only what he knows and what Bill Stanley told him, which is that you were investigating a wartime murder, and that your investigation was fruitful. True?”
“Depends on your definition of fruitful.”
“Have you found Tran Van Vinh?”
“I have. In Ban Hin.”
“And he had some war souvenirs.”
“He did.”
“And you have these?”
“How is Cynthia?”
The shift in the subject didn’t bother Karl. He replied, “She’s well and sends her love. She was disappointed that you changed your Hawaii plans. But I see why you did that.”
“Don’t make assumptions based on flimsy evidence.”
“I never do.” He drank his coffee and flipped his ash in the cup. He continued, “Mr. Stanley told the Ambassador that you had committed some sort of travel violation, and that the police had questioned you.”
“That’s correct.”
“Was this a serious violation?”
“I killed two policemen, and two soldiers.”
Karl didn’t seem shocked or upset. “I assume the police are not sure about this.”
“It really doesn’t matter here.”
“This is true. The Ambassador seems upset about having you as his houseguest, but he seems to look forward to Ms. Weber’s company.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
“We need to get you out of this country before the government discovers that you are in residence here and asks for you to be turned over to the police.”
“Which government?”
“The Hanoi government, of course. Are you having paranoid delusions?”