"Do you think you might enjoy a Korean dinner?"
"Certainly," Burke said. "I've sampled a few native dishes. Very different, but good."
"I think most Americans find our foods a bit too hot. I'll tell my wife to be careful of that."
"Your wife?"
"Yes, Mr. Hill. I would be pleased to have you join me for dinner at my home."
At his home. Great. He couldn't have bought this kind of entrée. "Well, thank you, Captain. I'm honored."
"I can pick you up at your hotel around six, if that is agreeable."
"Look forward to seeing you."
He called Jerry's room immediately. "Guess who's having dinner tomorrow night at Captain Yun's?" he said.
"You're kidding?"
"Nope. He invited me, and I damned sure accepted."
"Any idea why?"
"Said he wanted to discuss some leads in Dr. Lee's murder."
"Sounds great. At dinner tonight, I'll coach you on a few pointers about Korean table manners."
Chapter 28
They drove out of the central business district with its high-rise hotels and office buildings aglow in the darkness of early evening, through the tunnel beneath Namsan Mountain, and headed south past a patchwork area of offices, shops and homes toward the Han River. Captain Yun lived south of the river, where traditional style houses stood almost in the shadow of endless rows of towering, look-alike, contemporary apartments.
"Have you had an opportunity to see much of the city?" Yun asked, his eyes darting about to keep up with the madly rushing traffic.
"I haven't had any spare time as yet," Burke said. "Maybe this weekend I'll get a chance to look around. Just from what I've been able to see from the street, those palaces downtown look fabulous. The closest thing we have to that in the States would be homes of some of the oldtime business tycoons. People like the Vanderbilts and the Rockefellers. Nobody can afford the upkeep these days.'
The Captain gave him a skeptical look. "I've read about all of your millionaires and billionaires."
"They don't live in monumental homes on large estates anymore. Billionaires like Sam Walton even drove pickup trucks."
"Our very wealthy were royalty in the old days," Yun said. "But no longer. Today's wealthy are owners of the chaebol, the conglomerates. They're family businesses, but not from the nobility. Many of them started out just like you and me. In the old times, only the nobility were educated and wealthy. Now our skilled and educated people come from every walk of life."
"You're lucky to still have the emphasis placed on families. I've heard several generations live together."
"This is one tradition that is being lost in the haste of modern living," Yun said. "Mostly now it is just the parents and children. Once the children are grown, they want to get out on their own."
"I know how that is. Do you have children, Captain?"
"A son, Se-jin," he said proudly. "He is a lieutenant in the National Police."
"Does he live at home?"
"No." Yun's mood darkened. "That is a source of friction among us. The young people today think they must be liberated, as they call it. They rebel against the old social order. Marriages in Korea were always arranged by the parents, the partners selected to provide the best children through combining favorable family characteristics. Marriage was meant to assure that the family would continue to flourish and prosper."
Burke realized he had best tread lightly through this minefield. "Is your son married?"
"No. He told us not to choose him a wife. He says he is in love with a young policewoman." He emphasized the words "in love" with derision. "They want to get married. Under the Family Law prior to 1977, a man required the consent of his parents to marry until the age of twenty-seven."
Twenty-seven. That would produce a revolution back in the States, Burke thought. Or at least enough ACLU lawsuits to slow the court system to a crawl. "I hope everything works out for you. Life can get complicated."
The Captain was silent for a moment. "This probably strikes you as so much about nothing. I know your society does not make marriage arrangements. Everyone believes in love, romance. Like Se-jin."
"That's usually how it starts," Burke said, "but after the honeymoon is over, reality sets in. If a marriage works, it's usually because the partners respect and admire each other."
Captain Yun broke into a knowing smile. "Then we are not so different after all. The Confucian laws governing relationships require deference between husband and wife. That is the same thing, is it not?"
He got no argument from Burke.
When they arrived at the modest, one-story Yun home, Burke was ushered into a combination living-dining room. He saw in the center of the room a low table of reddish wood with delicate carving on the sides, floor cushions around it. An attractive, traditionally-dressed woman was placing dishes on the table. She wore what Burke would learn was a simple white chima, the hanbok's long, flowing skirt, with a light blue chogori, the brief, full-sleeved jacket. Her hair was parted in the middle and pulled into a knot at the back of her neck, the style of a married woman. When the men entered, she lowered her head shyly and bowed. The Captain spoke to her in Korean, then turned to Burke.
"She doesn't understand English, but she knows who you are."
Burke bowed to her. She smiled and backed out of the room into the kitchen.
"Have a seat, Mr. Hill. It appears our dinner is ready."
"Your wife isn't eating with us?" Burke asked.
"No. This is a men's affair. She wouldn't be comfortable with it."
Jerry had told him that would probably be the case. Burke sat on a cushion and crossed his legs in front of him as Yun did. He noticed the warmth of the ondol floor. He wasn't sure if he would be able to stand after sitting this way for long. He looked over the colorful array of food in plates and bowls that crowded the table. It should have been enough for half a dozen people, he thought. In the center was a brass pot with a chimney, similar to a fondue dish, with chunks and strips of meat and various vegetables arranged in a circle. Beside it was an octagonal-shaped lacquered dish, more like a tray, with thin crepes in the center, surrounded by segmented compartments containing such things as shredded egg, shrimp, sauted cucumbers, mushrooms, carrots and beef.
As they began to eat, Yun cautioned him, "You must make lots of noise while eating, or my wife will think you don't like her cooking."
Burke grinned. That was one Jerry forgot to tell him about. "As I said, I've got a lot to learn about getting along in this society."
"I think you will do well," said Yun. Then he scrutinized Burke through narrowed eyes. "I understand in your own country, you have been something of a hero."
Burke put down his fork and studied the Captain's face, which seemed calm and serene, betraying little emotion. These people would make great poker players, he thought. How the hell did you read them at times like this? He decided to treat it lightly and see where Yun was headed.
"Have you been checking up on me?" he asked with a casual smile.
"To be honest, yes. I spoke with Frederick Birnbaum last night. He told me about your involvement in thwarting the plot to assassinate the American and Soviet presidents."
Burke wondered just how much Birnbaum knew about the real story of the Jabberwock operation. Had he merely told Yun the part that was made public at the White House ceremony? Most of the details had never been revealed. He shrugged. "I did what I thought I had to do. What did Fred say about it?"
"He said you exposed several plotters in the CIA and the KGB, that you had risked your life to save the presidents."
Exactly how he had risked his neck was one point never mentioned. He frowned at the thought.