Ernie and I thrived in that environment. And we were known out there. And trusted. When you needed something done in the red-light districts of Korea, Ernie and I were the investigators to see. The other CID agents couldn't sniff out a correct quote on the price of kimchi.
The First Sergeant was silent for a long time. His fists clenching and unclenching, his jaw working away as if he were gnawing on a bone. Finally, he nodded.
'All right. You two are such hotshots. Get your butts out to Samgakji, like right now. And find this asshole for me. The honchos up at the head shed are about to shit a brick because we haven't been able to pick up the GI who jacked up that Buddhist nun. So you guys are back. So you're the experts on the Korean villages and the biggest ville rats in Eighth Army law enforcement. So you set down those mugs of coffee and you put on your jackets and you hop in your jeep and you get your asses down to Samgakji. Right now! You understand me?'
The First Sergeant stabbed his forefinger into Ernie's face and then into mine. 'Do either of you have any questions?'
'Yeah,' Ernie said.
The First Sergeant swiveled on him. Glaring.
Ernie's face was as relaxed as that of a Buddhist saint. 'What's for chow?'
After Riley pulled the First Sergeant off of Ernie, he escorted him down the hallway, whispering soothing words into the old sergeant's ear. When he returned to us, Riley shook his head.
'Ernie,' he said. 'You have to stop messing with the First Sergeant like that. He's going to burst one of his blood valves some day.'
Ernie swallowed the last of the coffee in his cup. 'Not to worry. Army medical coverage is a hundred percent.'
Trying not to laugh, I managed to pry the jade skull from Miss Kim's soft hands. Riley filled out a receipt for it, handed me the pink copy, and slid the original into his files.
He had written: Skull, jade, ancient, one each.
I wrapped the skull in some brown pulp hand towels. Riley opened the big wall safe behind his desk and slid the precious antique onto the widest metal shelf.
He slammed the door, cranked shut the handle, and twisted the dial.
Before going to Samgakji, we checked with a couple of our contacts on the compound. The first one was scared shitless when we mentioned the mugging of the Buddhist nun, and he wouldn't tell us anything. The second snitch, a small-time dope dealer known as Brother Andrew, was foolish enough to provide us a little leverage.
Ernie didn't smoke much marijuana, but when he had the urge he always bought the reefer from Brother Andrew. When Ernie asked him about copping some shit, Andy didn't hesitate. As soon as the transaction was complete, I entered the barracks and read Brother Andrew his rights. As I did, he wheeled on Ernie.
'You wouldn't do this to me.'
'Watch me, Bro,' Ernie answered.
Andrew had a shaved head shaped like a peanut and a neatly trimmed goatee. The goatee was allowed by the doctor because Andy suffered from folliculitis and couldn't shave. It drove the lifers mad, but they couldn't do anything about it.
Ernie folded his arms. 'Tell me about the guy who jacked up the Buddhist nun.'
Andy wouldn't tell us anything at first. Apparently, the guy who had attacked the nun had a lot of people terrorized. We had to actually handcuff him, shove him in the back of the jeep, and drive him down to the MP station. When Andy was finally convinced that we were going to book him, he started to talk.
'His name's Bro Hatch,' Andy told us.
'We already know that,' Ernie told him. Bored.
'He hangs out with a fine-looking sister. Everybody says she's half white and half Korean. Name's Sister Julie.'
'Where's she work?'
'In Samgakji. The Black Cat Club.'
'Is Hatcher there now?'
'I don't know. But once you take a look at Sister Julie you'll realize that no man in his right mind would stray far. She's one fine hammer.'
Ernie leaned back and unlocked Andy's cuffs. 'All right, Andy. You can go.'
'Hey, you're not going to tell Bro Hatch that I told you how to find him, are you?'
'Depends on how I feel,' Ernie answered.
'Feel good,' Andrew said. 'I got a life to lead here.'
Back in the barracks, we changed into clean blue jeans and nylon jackets with embroidered dragons on the back. Fresh running-the-ville outfits.
I called Itaewon and spoke to Herman. Still no word from the kidnappers. I told him we'd be out and I'd call back in an hour.
This afternoon we would go out to Samgakji and find Bro Hatch, the big GI who'd mugged the Buddhist nun. It shouldn't be hard. Not if Andrew was telling the truth. And not if Bro Hatch wasn't quite as tough as people seemed to think he was.
I grabbed the roll of dimes in my left pocket, enjoying its heft as I slammed my fist into my open palm. After thinking about it, I dropped another roll into my right pocket.
Samgakji is definitely a two-roll kind of place.
23
Samgakji in the afternoon is like a ghost town, saloons and muddy streets. Upturned red tile roofs. A skinny old man pushing a cart down the center of the road, lifting a dirty canvas sheet, hoisting a shimmering blue block of ice into one of the gin joints.
The front door of the Black Cat Club was locked, so we walked around to the back. A beaded curtain led into a narrow hallway bordered by the latrines. Inside the main room, metal chairs were turned upside down on round cocktail tables. A boy swabbed the cement floor, the odor of disinfectant bubbling in the air. An old woman sat beneath a bent lamp, studying the wrinkled pages of a ledger as if they were bamboo tablets carried across the Himalayas by a Buddhist scholar.
When we walked into the bar, the woman glanced up.
'Ajjima, tangsin yogi ei junim ieyo?' Aunt, are you the owner here?
She nodded her wrinkled face. Ernie wandered through the Forest of upturned chairs in the ballroom, hands in his jacket pockets, checking for an enemy ambush.
The boy stared at us for a while, but when he saw that we weren't going to cause any trouble he went back to his mopping.
I propped my elbows on the bar and spoke to the old woman. 'My partner and me,' I said, 'are looking for a business girl called Sister Julie.'
The old woman didn't flinch, as if she'd been expecting my question. She answered immediately.
'I remember her. But she gone now. Quit work. Two days no come back.'
'Where'd she go?'
She waved her hand. 'Business girl come. Business girl go. Nobody know where.'
I turned to Ernie and translated. 'She says Sister Julie left two days ago.'
Ernie strode toward the bar. 'I believe her. Absolutely. Just for the hell of it, though, how about we check upstairs?'
'Capital idea.'
We started toward the narrow wooden staircase when we heard the click of footsteps descending. First appeared a shapely high-heeled foot. Long legs sheathed in black leotards followed. Then round hips, a narrow waist, and a frilly white blouse filled out with extra helpings of female pulchritude.
