2
Colonel On-dinh-Khuc was finishing a meal of Cha Gio and crab-meat which he washed down with warm Chinese wine. From time to time he glanced at the gold clock on his desk. The time was twenty minutes to nine.
The woman had been in the hands of his men now for three hours. The fact that the information he was waiting for hadn’t already been conveyed to him surprised him. Up to now his men had been able to obtain information from their victims very speedily. This delay irritated him, but he had considerable confidence in his men. It was this woman and her ridiculous obstinacy that irritated him. He made a snarling grimace. Well, she was paying dearly for her obstinacy. His men were without pity. He wouldn’t wish to be a woman in their hands.
He pushed aside his bowl and reached for an apple. This he polished on his sleeve before sinking his teeth into it. He was chewing slowly, relishing the taste of the apple when there came a tap on the door and Lam-Than came in.
“The woman is now ready to talk,” he said. “Do you wish to question her yourself?”
The Colonel took another bite from the apple.
“She has taken her time. What degree of severity was used?”
“The maximum,” Lam-Than said. “Knowing you wanted the information quickly, she was subjected to continuous pressure. She has only given in a few moments ago.”
The Colonel finished his apple, then pushed back his chair and got to his feet.
“I will question her myself,” he said. “Come with me.”
They left the office and walked down a passage, down a flight of stairs to the room where prisoners were questioned.
It was a small room: its floor and walls tiled in white. A steel table, its feet clamped to the floor, stood under a powerful ceiling lamp.
Nhan lay on the table, her wrists and ankles held by straps. Her eyes were closed. Her face drawn and lined was greenish yellow. She breathed unevenly in short shuddering gasps.
The two little men squatted side by side away from her.
Both of them looked sweaty and bored. They stood up when the Colonel came in.
He went over to Nhan and stood looking down at her.
“Well? Where is the American, Jaffe?”
Nhan’s eyes opened slowly: they were misty as if she were only half conscious. She mumbled something the Colonel couldn’t hear.
One of the little men came over to her and slapped her face. Her eyes opened wider and she cringed. Tears began to run down her face.
“Where is the American, Jaffe?”
The continuous torture she had been subjected to and the resulting agony had warned Nhan that further resistance was out of the question. She might, she told herself, be able to remain silent for perhaps another hour, but sooner or later, unless she gained a respite, she would break down and betray Steve. Already by suffering and resisting she had gained three hours for him, but the twenty-six remaining hours that stretched ahead of her before he would be safe was, she knew, an impossible test of endurance: she had to gain time. She had to convince this man bending over her that Steve was somewhere far from Thudaumot. While they were looking for him in this place, she would be able to gain strength to resist the next assault on her shuddering body.
“In Dalat,” she whispered and closed her eyes.
A few months ago Steve had taken her for a week-end to Dalat; a summer resort in the mountains where people went to escape the heat of the City. She remembered it well enough to lie about it.
“Where in Dalat?” the Colonel asked, scowling.
“In a house.”
“Who owns the house?”
“An American.”
“Where is the house?”
“It is the third house by the railway station: a house with a red roof and a yellow gate,” Nhan said, keeping her eyes closed, terrified he would know she was lying.
The Colonel drew in a deep breath.
“He is there now?”
“Yes.”
The Colonel leaned closer, his little eyes gleaming. He whispered so no one but Nhan could hear him. “He has the diamonds with him?”
“Yes.”
The Colonel straightened.
“Come,” he said to Lam-Than. “I’ve wasted enough time already. I’m going to Dalat immediately.”
Lam-Than was looking at Nhan.
“She may be lying to gain time,” he said.
The Colonel’s face darkened.
“She wouldn’t dare! If she lied to me I would cut her to pieces!” He caught hold of Nhan’s arm and shook her.
“Listen to me!” the Colonel snarled. “Are you lying? You’d better tell the truth. If I find you are lying, you will regret it.”
Nhan shook her head weakly.
She forced herself to say in a quavering voice, “It is the truth. He is in Dalat.”
The Colonel pushed the little man away.
“She isn’t lying,” he said. “She has had enough. She has been a fool to have resisted so long.” He started towards the door, then paused to look at the two little men. “Give her water and let her rest. Turn off the light. I will return in about ten hours. I’ll decide then what is to be done with her.”
Nhan began to sob convulsively. Ten hours! With ten hours rest and only another sixteen hours to endure: surely she could hang on?
Back in his office, the Colonel told Lam-Than to call Inspector Ngoc-Linh.
“He and I will go to Dalat,” the Colonel said. “When we have killed the American and I have the diamonds, I will get rid of the Inspector. The American will have shot him, and in trying to protect the Inspector, I will have been forced to kill the American.”
“You may not find the American there,” Lam-Than said. “I still think she could be lying.”
“He will be there,” the Colonel snarled. “Your pessimism bores me. She was not lying.”
Lam-Than bowed. He wasn’t convinced. He went away to fetch the Inspector.
Chapter Fourteen
1
IT took five hours of difficult driving to reach Dalat. The road wasn’t good, and although the Colonel kept urging the Inspector to drive faster, the Inspector was handicapped by the darkness, and the surface of the road.
They arrived at the Dalat railway station at two o’clock a.m. It took the Colonel a little over half an hour to convince himself there was no house near the station with a red roof and a yellow gate.
The violence of his fury when he realized that Nhan had lied to him made the Inspector recoil from him. It
