“What makes you think I’m nervous?”
This time it was Kang who laughed. “You were always nervous, Inspector. You’re a bundle of nerves, though you pretend not to be. Something like that never changes.”
“Things change. I’m older.”
“Good for you. So am I. So is Richie, here. The only ones who aren’t older, I guess you’d say they’re dead.” That also didn’t ring.
Richie raised his glass. “There are a lot of them, for sure. All the best ones are on the other side.” He sipped the whiskey, then broke out coughing. When he stopped, his eyes were unfocused, as if they weren’t seeing anything anymore. “That’s a comforting thought,” he said to nobody. “I wonder if they’ll recognize me.”
Kang moved to the window and pulled the curtain back slightly. “Walk around the city for a few days, Inspector. Go up to the castle, maybe, down to the Old Town. Take your time going through the paintings on the Charles Bridge.”
“Am I looking for anything?”
“No, you’re taking in the sights, that’s all.”
“How long?”
“Two days.”
“Forget it. If I don’t get back to Pyongyang right away, they’ll wonder where I’ve been. I can’t afford that.”
Nothing. Richie didn’t cough. The sounds of silverware being polished stopped.
Kang continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “Day three, you go to the main square in the Old Town.”
“There won’t be a day three. What makes you think I’m going to hang around? Waiting is a bad idea. It’s always a mistake. Things go wrong; threads unravel where you didn’t even know there were threads. It happens tomorrow, or it doesn’t happen.”
“You sit on the edge of the fountain; make sure the town hall is on your right.” Either Kang’s hearing was getting bad or I was mumbling. “Can you remember the layout of the square from your last visit? If you don’t, get over there and walk around. Take it easy. Amble. If you think someone is on your tail, let them stick. Don’t do anything fancy. Just walk.”
“Sure, I’m a piece of bait. That’s me, Inspector O-bait-for-hire. Just send a plane ticket and book a room at a crummy hotel. Other people rent out as assassins, not me. I’m a little fish; want to see me dance on the hook?”
“The square, Inspector. Do you remember the layout?”
Hopeless! The man had no sense of give-and-take. Of course I remembered the square. The image of those buildings came back to me as perfectly as if I’d seen them yesterday. Maybe I couldn’t remember where I put my keys anymore, but my memory of meeting places was still good, better than good. Someone once told me I had a sense of location like a homing pigeon. I could never figure out if that was a compliment. “You want me facing south. Coincidence, I suppose.”
Kang let the curtain fall back. “Nothing is coincidence.” He turned around and looked at me. “From here on out, there is no such thing.”
Richie drained the rest of the whiskey. “That’s better.” He took a deep breath. “Forget the baths.”
“Right, you just sit here and drink.” Kang refilled the empty glass. He turned back to me. “I thought it would be a nice touch, Inspector, using the square as part of the plan. Ironic, don’t you think?”
“Sure, a little irony is good. This plan of yours-I take it you want a meeting in front of Kafka’s house.”
“You’ve got to admit, it’s funny. You and Kafka.”
“A barrel of monkeys, him and me.” I remembered what the doctor had said. “Any special time?”
“Four o’clock. A crowd gathers to watch the clock strike in the town hall tower. The police in the square focus on the crowd for pickpockets. The shadows are getting longer by then. You’ll have a few minutes for the contact. It won’t be me, incidentally.”
Suddenly, this plan was more and more interesting. “Anyone special, or anyone but you?”
“Don’t worry; you’ll know.”
“No recognition signal? No shoelace untied? A copy of
“Nothing. You won’t need it.”
“Right, I won’t need it. I have no needs. I am a piece of straw adrift on the wind currents of time.”
A groan came from the kitchen.
“Then what?” I said. “Someone walks up, hands me a white envelope, and I buy a villa along the Dalmatian coast for persons as yet unnamed?”
“If everything works out, you’ll be taken to me, at which point we can have a long meeting. There are things we have to talk about.”
“None that I know of. Look, Kang, I’m here right now. Why wait? My ears are good today; who knows about tomorrow? At our age, parts are falling off every day. You have something to say? I’m listening.”
“You were in Macau. You’ve been rubbing shoulders with a Major Kim in Pyongyang. Should I go on?”
Kang knew Kim? This did not sound right; it gave off that odd buzzing sound that meant a wire was overheating. So, all right, maybe I’d stay an extra day or two. I could come up with something as an alibi. Planes were always delayed. I could tell Kim I’d been quarantined in Macau with bird flu. The last place Kim would figure I’d go would be Prague. Or maybe it wasn’t; maybe that was why Kang wanted me walking around for a couple of days.
“We’ll meet if things work, you said. What if they don’t?” Kang knew what the question meant; it meant I had bought into his plan, whatever the hell it was. He had the grace not to smirk in victory.
“If things don’t work, there’s a Korean restaurant over toward the Jewish Quarter, not far off the square. Go in and get something to eat. The
“I’m sorry about your daughter, Kang. There was no time that night to tell you I was sorry.”
Kang turned away.
“Well,” said Richie, “I think we’ve done enough damage for one evening. Good night, all.” He struggled to his feet. “Kulov! See the man out!”
3
I should have left the next morning. Kang wanted me to tell him about Macau, which meant he must know what happened there. Maybe he was even involved with the murder. If he was still angry about his daughter, maybe he’d been plotting an assassination all these years as revenge. He also knew about Major Kim, and that meant Kang had a good idea what was going on in Pyongyang. If he knew what was going on in Pyongyang, he had sources of information. And if he had sources of information, he had money.
Instead of leaving, I walked around the city, asking myself questions and chasing answers. If Major Kim was right and the game was over, we were in for years of heartache. I hadn’t been kidding with Kim about chopping wood and hauling water; he hadn’t been kidding about my shining his boots. Pyongyang would be razed, dug up, rearranged, subdivided. Streets would be repaved, memorials toppled, factories put under
