I finished my drink, lit a cigarette, then signalled to the waiter for a refill.
Two Americans in violent beach shirts, came and sat at a table away from mine. When the Chinese woman had finished telephoning she came over to me.
“She will be only ten minutes,” she said. “I will let you know when she comes,” and nodding she went over to the two Americans and sat with them. After a five-minute conversation she got up and went to the telephone again.
A little over a quarter of an hour later, the bar door pushed open and a Chinese girl came in. She was tall and well built. She was wearing a black and white tight-fitting European dress. A black and white plastic handbag dangled from a strap she had wound around her wrist. She was attractive, sensual and interesting. She looked at the, Chinese woman who nodded towards me. The girl looked at me and smiled, then she crossed the bar, moving with languid grace while some of the American sailors ‘whistled to her, grinning in a friendly way at me.
She sat down beside me.
“Hello,” she said. “What is your name?”
“Nelson,” I said “What’s yours?”
“Jo-An.”
“Jo-An—what?”
She reached out and helped herself to one of my cigarettes from the pack lying on the table.
“Just Jo-An.”
“Not Wing Cheung?”
She gave me a quick stare and then smiled. She had very beautiful white teeth.
“That is my name. How did you know?”
“A pal of mine was here last year,” I said, knowing she was lying to me. “He told me to look you up.”
“I’m glad.” She put the cigarette between her painted lips and I lit it for her. “Do you like
me?”
“Of course.”
“Shall we go then?”
“Okay.”
“Will you give me three dollars for Madame?”
I gave her three dollars.
The middle-aged Chinese woman came over, showing all her gold-capped teeth.
“You are pleased with her?”
“Who wouldn’t be?”
She collected the three dollars.
“Come and see me again,” she said. “I’m always here.”
The girl who called herself Jo-An got up and sidled towards the exit. I went after her, nodding to the sailors. One of them made the letter ‘O’ with his finger and thumb and then pretended to swoon into the arms of his pals. I left them horsing around and moved out into the hot bustling night where the girl was waiting for me.
“I know a clean cheap hotel,” she said.
“So do I,” I told her. “I’m staying at the Celestial Empire. We’ll go there.”
“It would be better to go to my hotel.” She gave me a sidelong look.
“We go to my hotel,” I said, and taking her elbow in my hand, I steered her through the crowds towards the hotel.
She moved along beside me. She was wearing an expensive perfume. I couldn’t place it, but it was nice. There was a thoughtful, faraway expression on her face. We didn’t say anything to each other during the short walk. She mounted the sharp flight of stairs. She had an interesting back and nice long legs. She waved her hips professionally as she moved from stair to stair. I found myself watching the movement with more interest than the situation required
The old reception clerk was dozing behind his barricade. He opened one eye and stared at the girl, then at me, then shut the eye again.
I steered her down the passage. Leila was standing in her open doorway, polishing her nails on a buffer. She looked the girl over and then sneered at me. I sneered back at her, opened my door and eased my girl through into the hot, stuffy little room.
I closed the door and pushed home the flimsy bolt.
She said to me, “Could you ewe me more than thirty dollars? I could be very nice to you for fifty.”
She pulled a zipper on the side of her dress to show goodwill. She was half out of the dress before I could stop her.
“Relax a moment,” I said, taking out my wallet. “We don’t have to rush at this.”
She stared at me. I took out Jo-An’s morgue photograph and offered it to her. Her flat, interesting face showed suspicious bewilderment. She peered at the photograph, then she peered at me.
“What is this?” she asked.
“A photograph of Jo-An Wing Cheung,” I said, sitting on the bed.
Slowly she zipped up her dress. There was now a bored expression in her black eyes.
“How was I to know you had a photograph of her?” she said. “Madame said you wouldn’t know what she looked like.”
“Did you know her?”
She leaned her hip against the bedrail.
“Is she all that important? I am prettier than she is. Don’t you want to make love to me?”
“I asked if you knew her.” “No. I didn’t know her.” She moved impatiently. “May I have my present?”
I counted out five ten-dollar bills, folded them and held them so she could feast her eyes on them.
“She married an American. His name was Herman Jefferson,” I said. “Did you know him?” She grimaced.
“I met him.” She looked at Jo-Ann’s photograph again. “Why does she look like this ... she looks as if she’s dead.”
‘That’s what she is.”
She dropped the photograph as if it had bitten her.
“It is bad luck to look at dead people,” she said. “Give me my present. I want to go.”
I took out Herman Jefferson’s photograph and showed it to her.
“Is this her husband?”
She scarcely glanced at the photograph.
“I am mistaken. I have never met her husband. May I have my present?”
“You just said you had met him.”
“I was mistaken.”
We stared at each other. I could see by the expression on her I was wasting time. She didn’t intend to tell me anything. I gave her the bills which she slipped into her handbag.
“There’s more where that came from if you can give me any information about Jefferson,” I said without any hope.
She started towards the door.
“I know nothing about him. Thank you for your present.”
She slid back the bolt and with a jeering wave of her hips, she was gone.
I knew I had been taken for a ride, but as I was spending Jefferson’s money, I was a lot less depressed than I would have been if it had been my own money.
Later, I got tired of lying on the bed and I decided to go somewhere to eat. As I opened the bedroom door, I saw Leila, propping her body up against her door-post across the passage. She had changed into a scarlet and gold Cheongsam which gave her a very festive air. She had put a white cyclamen blossom in her hair.
“She didn’t stay long,” she said. “Why did you bring her here when I’m here?”
“It was strictly business,” I said, closing the door and turning the key. “I just wanted to talk to her.”
“What about?” she asked suspiciously.
“This and that.” I looked her over. She was really a very attractive little thing. “How would you like to have dinner with me?”
