go inside.”
The Inspector unlocked the back door and led the way into the sitting-room.
The Colonel and Lam-Than looked around the room. Lam-Than immediately walked over to the smashed drinking glass on the floor and stared at it.
The Inspector said, “He was probably drinking when something happened to startle him and the glass slipped out of his hand.”
Lam-Than looked at him, his evil face sneering.
“Surely that is obvious,” he said. “What would be more helpful is to know what happened to make the glass slip out of his hand.”
“Is that the picture the American and the boy put on the wall?” the Colonel asked, pointing to the picture. “It is a poor thing. Why should he want to hang such a thing on his wall?”
“Americans have very little taste,” Lam-Than said. “The picture probably reminded him of a girl with whom he has had an association.”
“Had he any particular girl?” the Colonel asked, turning to the Inspector.
“I don’t know, sir, but I will find out,” the Inspector replied.
“Do so. It could be important.”
Lam-Than was moving around the room like a cat that smells a mouse.
“There is a lot of plaster dust here,” he said. “Have you observed that, Inspector?” He bent down and made a long mark with his finger on the floor that revealed the floor was covered with dust. He straightened and stared at the picture, then he looked at the Inspector. “Please do me the favour of leaving the room,” he said, his acid voice suddenly sharp.
The Inspector stiffened. He looked at Colonel Khuc who waved him away. He went out of the room and closed the door behind him.
“What is it?” the Colonel asked, looking at Lam-Than with glittering eyes.
Lam-Than pulled a chair close to the wall on which the picture hung. He got up on the chair and lifted the picture down.
Both men stared at the hole in the wall for a long moment. Then Lam-Than put the picture against the wall and put his hand inside the hole. He groped around for a moment then withdrew his hand, shrugging.
“There is nothing there now,” he said and stepped off the chair.
The Colonel went over to an armchair and lowered his bulk into it. He took from his pocket a gold cigarette case, selected a cigarette and lit it with a gold and jade cigarette lighter.
“What was in it,” he asked.
Lam-Than smiled. It was a crooked sour smile, but at least it was a smile.
“You expect miracles, Colonel, but I could make a guess.”
“Guess then.”
“Do you know who once lived in this villa?”
“Why should I?” Khuc began to lose patience. “Do you?”
Lam-Than inclined his head.
“A Chinese woman. Her name was Mai Chang. She was once the mistress of General Nguyen Van Tho.”
The Colonel stiffened, then he slowly levered his bulk out of the chair.
“You mean the diamonds were hidden there?” His voice was a whisper. Every muscle in his gross body was tense.
Lam-Than smiled at him.
“It seems likely, Colonel, doesn’t it?
For a long moment Colonel Khuc stared at his secretary. Then his lips moved off his white teeth in a wolfish smile.
“So that’s why he killed the boy,” he said, half to himself. “Of course. I would have killed him myself.”
There was a pause, then Lam-Than said in his matter-of-fact voice, “The thing we must find out is whether the American has really been kidnapped or is hiding - with the diamonds.”
“Yes,” the Colonel said, nodding his bald head. “That is obviously something we should find out.”
“And if he is hiding, with the diamonds,” Lam-Than went on, “we must find him and persuade him to give us the diamonds. It is said they are worth two million American dollars. That is a useful sum: a sum any man could happily retire on.” he looked intently at Colonel Khuc who stared back at him. “Certain mouths, of course, will have to be silenced; the cook and the girl. We shall have to find the American. The Inspector can find him, but it may be necessary after silencing the American, to silence the Inspector too.”
Colonel Khuc stroked his smooth shaven jowls. His gross yellow face split into a genial smile.
“As usual your reasoning is impeccable. I will leave the matter in your hands. See to it.”
Lam-Than rehung the picture and put the chair back in its original position.
At the Colonel’s signal, he opened the door and beckoned to the waiting Inspector.
Chapter Six
1
The six a.m. Thudaumot-Saigon bus banged and jolted along the highway to Saigon. It was ladened with market produce that crowded its roof and sprouted out of the windows. Peasants, in their black working dress, were crammed into the bus like sardines in a tin. They clutched onto their wares, giggling nervously as each jolt of the bus threw them violently against their neighbours.
Crushed between a fat old woman clinging to a large basket of cut sugar cane and an evil-smelling old man holding six brushes made of duck feathers, Nhan endured the jolting ride.
She was scarcely aware of the discomfort. Her mind and her slight body was frozen in terror as she thought back on the events of the night.
The cycle ride to Thudaumot had been a nightmare experience. During the last long mile, Steve had had to push her; her legs had become so weak it had been impossible for her to turn the pedals any longer.
How thankful she had been to enter her grandfather’s house! How kind the old man had been to her! He had seen her terror and had soothed her, holding her in his arms, assuring her there was nothing to be so frightened about.
While she had told him about Steve who had waited outside, her grandfather had continued to hold her, running his hand over her hair and petting her as he used to do when she had been very young until she had felt quite secure again and no longer terrified.
Then Steve had come in and he and her grandfather had talked while she rested in the other room, staring up at the dark ceiling while she listened to the low drone of their voices.
Her grandfather had come in to her after some time. He had said he would shelter Steve. There was nothing for her to worry about. Steve would now talk to her, but he wanted her to know she need not be frightened. He would take good care of her lover and he wanted her to know that he thought the big American would make her a most suitable husband.
He had smiled, patting her hand.
“I never thought the day would come when I should have such good news of you. There is no future in this country for you. It is only in America that you will find prosperity. There is, of course, still much to arrange, but it will come out right in the end. You will have to exercise patience and courage. You must remember that nothing worthwhile comes easily.”
Then Steve had been impatient and curt, but Nhan had made allowances. He was in bad trouble and very worried. She didn’t expect kindness from him. Naturally, he had to think of himself.
He had told her she must get back to Saigon as quickly as possible. He had already asked her grandfather
