She stood in the doorway, nightgown fluttering, silhouetted by the stark light behind her. We all took off our shoes, sat down on the warm vinyl floor, and the Nurse put on some music. Ernie slipped her some money, and in a few minutes she was back with beer, unhusked peanuts, and strings of dried cuttlefish. We drank and feasted and laughed and when it got too late, we turned off the music and turned off the light and Ernie slept with the Nurse in the bed and I slept with Miss Lim on the floor.
At dawn I shook Miss Lim awake. She seemed confused, and embarrassed about being there. I helped her find her clothes and then walked her out to the street and hailed a taxi for her. If I were more of a gentleman, I would have paid the cab fare.
Ernie was up by now and the Nurse had prepared a large pan of warm water for each of us. I squatted outside, washed my face, and borrowed one of Ernie’s razors to shave. Without a mirror. When we were presentable we sat cross-legged in the hooch while the Nurse served us steaming cups of freeze-dried coffee.
By the time the first rays of sunlight were warming the narrow lanes of Itaewon, we were back in our alley, watching the police box. Passersby, scurrying on their way to work, squinted at the two big Americans loitering in the cold shadows. I didn’t mind. I just hoped the police wouldn’t notice.
Captain Kim worked late but he also arrived late and it got real uncomfortable waiting for him. I sauntered over to the Hamilton Hotel once and used a public phone to call Riley at the office. I told him to let Top know that we were following up a lead on the Pak Ok-suk murder case. The less details the better. Of course, Top might get sort of peeved at us being out here, since they already had a suspect and the case was ostensibly wrapped up, but he hadn’t told us not to continue working on it and, anyway, I’d worry about that later. Ernie wasn’t complaining. He’d hung with me through worse shit.
Finally, when it was almost nine o’clock, Captain Kim, in his neatly pressed blue suit, strolled into his place of business. It was nice to have the waiting over but then we had to wait again. There was no telling if, or when, he would release Kimiko. Waiting’s the worst part about being a CID agent and Ernie swore if he ever got out of this shit, he’d never wait for anything again. If he needed a cavity filled, he’d go to the emergency room.
“Yesterday he said we could talk to her,” Ernie said. “So why don’t we just Bogart on in there?”
“He’d probably stall us and then hold on to her until we cleared the area. If we hold tight here, Captain Kim might decide to let her go early, before we arrive to start asking questions.”
She came out just then, into the sun, blinking like a bruised rat, looked around, and then stepped gingerly onto the slippery ice. She was still wearing her short dress, her hair was gnarled and matted, and all traces of makeup had been smeared off her face. She must have been freezing. She teetered down the sidewalk and then up the hill to Itaewon, heading for hearth and home.
We followed, one of us on either side of the street, stopping occasionally in doorways to make ourselves as inconspicuous as possible. There was a fairly healthy crowd of pedestrians but when you’re over six feet tall and Caucasian it’s sort of difficult to put an effective tail on someone. Maybe not in New York but definitely in Seoul.
But anyway, Kimiko wasn’t looking. She was exhausted, beat up, defeated. When she turned up the narrow alley leading to her hooch, we hesitated a while to give her a head start and then we turned the corner.
What we saw didn’t exactly make our day although it did confirm my paranoid suspicions.
The two guys looked very tough, and when we stopped moving forward they just stared at us.
Kimiko couldn’t see us. One of the guys held her arms behind her back and with his free hand he pushed the back of her neck down so her long hair dangled, brushing the ground.
I was getting sort of tired of people pushing her around. Ernie took the first steps forward. And then me.
The bad guys didn’t move.
I did have one comforting thought! One of the great things about living in Korea was that the country had total gun control. You didn’t have to worry about getting shot in the back by some hoodlum looking for a little target practice. Only the police and the soldiers had guns, and for a private citizen to get caught with a firearm was a major offense.
Of course, sometimes the local soldiers got out of line. Every now and then one of them went berserk and holed up in a hotel with hostages. Just didn’t want to sign in off his pass, I guess. Even in the line of duty, they could make you a little nervous. Like at a roadblock when some American got the bright idea that he didn’t have to show his identification, since he was one of the heroes from the Land of the Brave, and an ROK Army soldier leveled his weapon at him. Still, they’re very reluctant to shoot Americans.
We didn’t have to worry about guns, but we did have to worry about the men. They were both tall for Koreans, close to six feet, thin but not skinny, with knots of muscle at various strategic points around their bodies. I noticed the callouses on their knuckles and the stances they were in and, by the looks of them, the years of practice that went into such familiarity.
Ernie took a few steps off to the side of the alley and got his back up against the stone wall. An old habit from Vietnam. If they decide to waste you at least you’ll see them coming.
The hoodlums had turned their attention to us but still held Kimiko, who was muttering vile curses through her constricted throat.
I thought of turning around and walking away, pretending we were just innocent bystanders who happened to stumble on this scene and didn’t want to get involved in any trouble. But that wouldn’t do Kimiko much good. And I didn’t want to lose her after all the trouble we’d gone through to find her. Anyway, my guess was that these guys had probably spotted us following her, because they hadn’t seemed too surprised when we rounded the corner.
I decided to go for one of those lines, like you hear in the movies, that gets everybody’s attention and puts the fear of God in your enemies. My brain churned but all I came up with was, “Why don’t you leave the girl alone?”
Ernie tried to strengthen it some. “Yeah,” he said. “Leave her alone.”
The guy with his hands free had a square face, stubbled whiskers, and a short, thick scar along the side of his neck. I don’t think he understood me. Just as well.
Instead, he looked at us for what seemed a long moment, and then he said, slowly and distinctly, as if he’d rehearsed it, “E yoja dala kamyon dangsin ae jamji chaluhkeita.”
Most of the words were familiar to me but I was too nervous to put it all together. Something about what would happen if we continued to follow her. I tried to remember the sentence as a whole, and the noun jamji in particular because that was a new one to me.
Finally the man got impatient and he waved his hand at me. “Ka! Bali ka!”
I didn’t have any trouble with that one. “Go!” he said, as if he were talking to a dog.
He shuffled another step towards us. “Bali ka, sikya!”
Fighting words.
I felt the old fear rise within me. The fear of bullies, the fear of gangs, the fear of the mean, pitiless, sun-seared streets.
The fear made me angry.
I returned the insult-“Yoja manjijima, sikya!”-speaking to him as if he were dirt.
He understood that. Like a scorpion he was on me, stinger raised. The bottom of his foot slammed my chest and I hurtled back against the stone wall.
He was a little too confident about his own expertise and let the foot linger on my chest, knee bent, while he leaned forward to punch me in the head. I twisted left, covered. The punch landed on my arms. He was much quicker than me but the road was slippery and I was now above him, on the incline. I pushed forward and his footing gave. He slid down the hill and landed on his butt. Bounding across the alleyway, I pulled the other guy off Ernie and heaved. Kimiko snarled and missed him with a snap kick as he twisted down the alley. He careened into his buddy and for a second they both lay on the road.