“Maybe they had it coming,” I said.
My eyes were becoming accustomed to the light.
Snake puffed on a cigarette in a black holder. “People who kill Horsehead,” Snake said, “and people who kill Water Doggy. I think same-same.”
I snorted. I wasn’t going to give him my professional opinion while I was tied to a gurney.
“Maybe you find up,” Snake said.
“The KNPs will find them,” I replied. “They work for you, don’t they?”
Snake smiled his slow smile, the one that spread across his narrow lips gradually, finally lifting slightly at the corners. “Some do,” he said equitably. “Some KNP are like you. Stubborn. Anyway, they already try. No can find. Two men, three women. Seoul very big city. How they find up?”
“That’s your problem,” I said.
“No,” Snake said patiently. “Your problem too. Anyway, you have SIR.”
I was surprised that Snake knew the acronym. But I shouldn’t have been. After more than two decades of working with the United States military, there were probably not many 8th Army acronyms that Snake didn’t recognize.
“So I have the SIR,” I said. “So what?”
“Cort was good man.”
I tried to sit up but the leather straps held me firmly.
“That’s right,” Snake continued. “I knew Cort. He try very hard to find up who kill Mori Di,” Snake shook his head woefully. “Good man, stubborn too. Like you.”
Koreans have an odd national trait. They like perseverance. Even if you think or do things completely opposed to them, they will respect you if you stick to your principles. What Snake was referring to was the fact that Cort never gave up trying to find and bring to justice the men who had murdered Moretti. It was my opinion, as it was Cort’s, that the killers had been the Seven Dragons, or at least they’d been the ones who’d ordered the killing. Still, after all these years, Snake was expressing admiration for the man who kept trying to charge him with murder.
Snake said, “You know what happen Cort?”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “He finished his tour in Korea, went back to the States.”
Snake shook his head. “No. He no go back.”
Now that I thought about it, there was nothing about Cort’s post-investigation activities in the SIR. He merely stopped making entries. I tried not to show much interest. It was not wise to let Snake think that he had some information that I wanted.
“So what happened to him?” I asked.
“You go Eighth Army,” Snake replied, pointing toward Yongsan Compound. “You find up there. Now, I want you find people who kill Horsehead, people who kill Water Doggy. KNPs they no can do. First, they stupid. Second, they fight now with Snake, with Jimmy Pak. They all the time want more money.”
The KNPs were not stupid. That wasn’t the reason they weren’t solving the murders of Horsehead and Water Doggy. The reason was that they didn’t, yet, have enough evidence to lead them to the killers. But the other thing that Snake said, about them wanting more money, that was a possibility. Maybe that’s why there was a rift between Lieutenant Pong, the 8th Army KNP liaison officer, and Captain Kim, the commander of the Itaewon Police Station. Factions. Infighting. These were facts of life. Itaewon, and all its rich operations, represented a ripe plum full of juice, power, and money. A plum worth fighting over. Maybe someone was making a play for that ripe piece of fruit and thereby threatening the power of the Seven Dragons. And if that was true, maybe the KNPs were the ones who’d unleashed the people who murdered Horsehead and Water Doggy. Or, if they hadn’t unleashed them, maybe they weren’t in any big hurry to bring the culprits to justice. If this were true, Snake and Jimmy Pak and the other remaining members of the original Seven Dragons, were vulnerable.
Finally, I said, “You want me to save your skinny ass.”
Snake shrugged. “You have SIR. You have good information.”
“What information?” I asked.
“You look inside, you find. Many people there, they don’t like Seven Dragons.”
I’d never heard one of them use the term Seven Dragons. But there it was, an admission that the Seven Dragons actually existed. Snake was more than just vulnerable. If somebody in the KNPs was after him, he and the other surviving Seven Dragons were desperate. I wasn’t sure what evidence the SIR contained that could lead me to the killers of Horsehead and Water Doggy but I knew that now was the time to drive a hard bargain, even though I was half naked, strapped to a gurney, and surrounded by a gaggle of Korean mobsters.
“If I do try to find out who murdered Horsehead and Water Doggy,” I said, “I’m going to want something in return. I want you to release Miss Kwon from her contract. Give her money, enough to go to school and help her parents. Let her return to her hometown.”
Snake puffed on his cigarette. “Why I do that?”
“If you want my help, you’ll have to.”
“Snake no have to do nothing.”
“I have the SIR,” I said. “It’s back on the compound, somewhere safe where you can’t get it.” In Sergeant Riley’s safe at the CID Admin Office to be exact. “And I also want the bones of Mori Di. I know you took them when you had Two Bellies murdered.”
“Bones? Why I need bones?”
“You need them because the bones prove that you murdered Mori Di.”
“How they do that?”
“Forensic evidence.”
I could tell by the puzzled look on Snake’s face that he didn’t understand the word forensic. But anyway, I was bluffing. The bones of Mori Di might prove two things: one, that he’d been tortured before his death and, possibly two, that he’d been alive when his tormentors bricked him up in the basement of the Grand Ole Opry Club.
After thinking it over, the worry vanished from Snake’s face and he laughed. For me, that cemented his guilt. He’d reviewed the crime scene mentally and decided there was no way-forensic science or not-that I could pin anything on him.
“Anyway, I got to go,” Snake said. “You find up who killed Horsehead and Water Doggy. Then everything OK.”
“Screw you, Snake,” I said. “I want Miss Kwon set free and the bones of Mori Di delivered to me immediately. That’s the deal.”
Snake turned back to the gurney and leaned down. “You stupid?”
I didn’t answer but waited.
“Why I bring you here?” Snake waved his arms around the clinic we were in. And then I realized where I was: Doc Yong’s clinic, the Itaewon branch of the Yongsan County Public Health Clinic.
Snake leaned in closer. His hot breath, laced with the stink of nicotine, covered my face like a wet glove. “You think Snake come beg you do something?” he asked. “No way. Never hachi. I have something you want, Snake already got it, so you have to give me what I want. You find up who kill Horsehead and Water Doggy. After you find up, you tell Snake, then I take care everything. You alla?” You understand?
When I didn’t reply, Snake went on. “Once Snake have what Snake want, then you get what you want.”
He pulled something black and long out of his back pocket and tossed it atop my chest. I writhed in panic. For a second, I thought it was a snake; and then I relaxed. The metal disc at the end felt cold against my chest. It was a stethoscope.
“You bali bali,” Snake said. You hurry. “She strong woman, stubborn too, like you. But if no eat, all the time have boom-boom, then pretty soon die.
The faceless men behind Snake started to laugh. Their laughter grew louder and then Snake left the room and his men followed. Even after the footsteps of Snake and his thugs faded, I could still hear them laughing.
What Snake had that I wanted was Doc Yong. “Boom-boom” is G.I. slang for having sex.
I strained at the leather straps that held me. They wouldn’t budge.
I’m not sure how long I lay tied to the gurney. Maybe a couple of hours. I was dozing off again when I woke to the sound of someone fiddling with the door to the clinic. The door opened and amber light from a streetlamp
