14
“Murphy disappear after war in Wietnam,” Vladimir says. He’s got an enormous hamburger in front of him, three layers thick, accompanied by a deep-fried onion the size of a hand grenade and beer in a sweating mug. They’re in a restaurant that calls itself the Philadelphia Hamburger Pub and is unconvincingly decorated with old black-and-white pictures of a city that, Rafferty assumes, is Philadelphia. Kids in tattered clothing run through sprays of water from hydrants. Black people on stoops gaze warily at the camera. It’s a little bit of America, even if it’s not one of the bits the State Department peddles.
“AWOL?” Rafferty has a beer himself, the first Budweiser he’s drunk in years. After the fat flavor of Thai beer, it tastes like carbonated butterfly urine.
A shrug. “Don’t know. But many people looking for him.”
“Why?”
“You kidding me, yes? For kill him. Many people want to kill him. Ewen some people on his side want to kill him.” He takes an enormous bite out of the burger, chews on it for a moment, then parks part of it in his cheek. “But no, not AWOL. When he comes back, he is working with Americans. Maybe he is here all along, but out of sight, working for Americans.”
“Government?”
“No, no. I tell you, he is fixer, yes? He is fixer for business. So … priwate.” He tilts his head left, right, left. “Well, okay, maybe little bit CIA.”
“Fine,” Rafferty says. “Fixing what?”
“You pretty young, but maybe you remember then, after Wietnam, Southeast Asia wery poor. Cities smaller, farmlands bigger. America look here and see, ‘Hmmm, cheap labor.’ They still not talking to China then, so cheap labor here look wery good to them.”
“And.”
Vladimir’s eyebrows rise at Rafferty’s tone. “And also they think, ‘Southeast Asia, Communist ewerywhere. Domino, yes?’ So they make long plan. Make business, make gowernment people rich-you know, kickback and stuff-make economic ally and then bring in army, make military ally. This is why here, Thai army and American army wery close, ewen now.”
Rafferty sees Murphy, sitting like a king in that official interrogation area. “So. Murphy.”
“Yes. Murphy. American company want to open, mmmm, garment factory in … in Cambodia. They go to Cambodia, find space, give money to owner. But then someone call and say gowernor need money. Police need money. People who make permit need money. Many, many permit. Company think, ‘
“So somebody, somebody American, say to company, ‘Talk to Murphy.’ And Murphy, he say, ‘Can do, give me money.’ He go to Cambodia, pay ewerybody, pay not so much as company because he pay all these people many time, yes? They see him, they make big smile and open their pocket. Some money left ower, Murphy take. Okay, now American company need sewing machine, many sewing machine. Sewing-machine company, maybe in Indonesia, need to pay police, need to pay gowernor, need to pay ewerybody. Murphy, he take care of them all, keep some money. You understand?”
“Yeah. He’s the navigator, and he pockets some change every time the ship has to make a turn.”
“But not finish yet. He goes to Cambodia customs office and pays them to let the sewing machine in, takes some money. He goes to labor contractor, gets him to lower money per hour and split difference, some for him, some for Murphy. Not give lady one dollar sixty for hour, give one dollar twenty. Ewery hour, forty cent, split fifty- fifty. Three hundred girl, forty cent ewery hour, one hundred twenty dollar ewery hour, ten hour ewery day, sewen day ewery week.” He closes his eyes for a second, lips moving silently. “So eighty-four hundred dollar ewery week, fifty-fifty. Small money, but ten factories, fifteen factories, not small anymore. Maybe forty, fifty thousand ewery week.”
“Jesus,” Rafferty says, looking for the waitress to trade in his beer. “He could buy a new shirt.”
“And one more thing. Some small boss in maybe, Cambodia, gowernment boss, make problem. Murphy say, ‘Let’s talk,’ small boss say, ‘Fuck you.’ So maybe he gets acid attack, not too bad, only half of face, maybe only one eye. Small boss say, ‘Sorry, no more problem, ewerything your way.’ If he make more problem …” Vladimir points an index finger at Rafferty’s head and drops his thumb.
The waitress is leaning against the counter, gazing wide-eyed at the opposite wall, so Rafferty gives up on ordering. “All this is private industry?”
“Hah,” Vladimir says, leaning back in his chair. “Sure, priwate company, but information is ewerywhere, yes? And Murphy have operation ewerywhere now. Forty year he been doing this. Probably he hear more than anybody. Who is up, who is down. Where army is building camp. Where harbor is being dug more deep. ‘The business of America,’ ” he says, startling Rafferty, “ ‘is business.’ This is your Calwin Coolidge, yes? Business is the foot in the door. And eweryone buy information.”
“You wanted to know who he was working with.”
Vladimir says, “Sorry?”
“When I described him. You asked me who he was working with.”
Vladimir shrugs. “People will pay to know. Small money, but they will pay.”
“But when I told you, you looked very surprised.”
“Of course,” Vladimir says. “I think maybe you tell me DuPont or Ford or Reebok or something. But no. You tell me Major Shen.” He sits back and pokes his index finger into the cleft in his chin. “This is different,” he says. “This maybe ewen important.” He rubs at the cleft again, obviously thinking. “Tell you what: I gamble you, you gamble me.”
“What’s the bet?”
“I work first, you give me money later, this is okay. Like we say. But when you learn more about Major Shen and Murphy, about what they doing, why they come together, you tell me. Maybe I let you keep some of your money.”
Rafferty says, “I trust you and you trust me.”
For a moment Rafferty thinks Vladimir will smile. Instead he nods and says, “Yes. Like we friend.”
In the back of the cab, he dials Helen Eckersley again, gets the same ring and the same request not to break her heart, which he again ignores.
Something in him wriggles uneasily at the fact that she isn’t answering the phone. He waves it off and turns around again, looking through the rear window, trying to make sure that his new friend isn’t following.
And it’s only because Rafferty is looking out the back window that he sees them.
The cab is nearing Khao San, approaching the hotel where he slept the first night. As the cab passes it, two men come out of a doorway and watch the car go by. Then they turn and face the oncoming traffic.
“Turn right,” Rafferty says. “Soon as you can.”
The driver looks up into the mirror. He’s been chewing on an unlit cigarette for as long as Rafferty’s been in the cab, and it’s turned transparent and brown with spit. “But you said-”
“I know, but I feel like turning right. Every now and then, I just need to turn right.”
The driver says, “American?”
“How’d you know?” The cab sways as the driver cuts the wheel.
“I just know. Why do you keep looking behind you?”
“Same thing. Sometimes I want to turn right, sometimes I want to look behind me. I’m an American conservative.”
There’s another cheap hotel halfway down the block. Once again he sees two men, just loitering, wearing
