"Our man got stopped at a roadblock near the temple," Jerry told him.
"Yes, I have just talked with our people down the mountain," the normally affable monk advised in a dispirited voice. "They saw the convoy going up. They normally contact the temple by radio, but for some reason the power was down. I suspect it was the work of the NSP. There was no way they could get word up there ahead of the soldiers."
"Duane said a civilian questioned him at the roadblock."
"An NSP officer, no doubt. They came looking for Dr. Shin. The soldiers had the temple grounds surrounded. There was no way for him to escape."
"He was captured?"
"I regret to say he was. We tried to provide him with sanctuary, but to no avail."
"Any idea how they found him?" Jerry asked.
"We think someone may have said the wrong thing on a telephone here at the temple following Mr. Chan's visit. I'm quite sure our lines are tapped."
"That's a tough blow. Will you demand the government release him?"
"Yes, of course. We will have someone taking steps in that direction shortly. But based on past experience, it will do little good. You can expect to read a story soon about Dr. Shin. It will say he was released but was killed in an automobile accident, or stepped in front of a truck, or fell from a train, some such absurdity." His voice conveyed an underlying sense of finality, like a footnote to an epitaph.
"I'm triply sorry to hear this," Jerry said. "Sorry for us, sorry for you, and particularly sorry for Dr. Shin. I wish there was something we could do to help."
"We appreciate what you attempted to do," said Moon Chwa. "You tried. That's all any of us can do. Just keep trying."
Sorry, Jerry said to himself, but just trying wasn't good enough for Shin Man-ki. And it damned sure won't be good enough for the President of the United States.
Chapter 44
Burke was late getting up for the simple reason that he'd not climbed into bed until an hour usually reserved for the likes of drunken party-goers, cat burglars and insomniacs. He had intended to end his reading earlier, but that was when he had encountered the note from Dr. Lowing, stuck in the manuscript toward the back, where a chapter had been chosen for revision. After reading the note, there was no way to put down the manuscript until he'd finished it.
Getting the day off to a reasonable start was a near impossibility without his morning coffee, particularly after a night like this. So he went down to breakfast before calling Captain Yun. He used the time to mull over the results of his reading, seeking to put it all in perspective for what he would tell the homicide detective.
Back in his room, he dialed Yun's number at the police station.
"I've got the manuscript," Burke said.
"I trust from the tone of your voice that you found something of value in it."
"That's putting it mildly, Captain. It came yesterday afternoon and I practically sat up all night reading. It contains some rather tantalizing passages, along with a disturbing note from Dr. Lowing."
"In what way disturbing?"
"Well, I think it explains what happened to Dr. Lee. And it points a finger at where to look for the answer to the mystery."
"You have my full attention, Mr. Hill," he said, the excitement coloring his voice. "I was about to drive over to Namdaemun Market. Have you ever been there?"
"No, I haven't found the time."
"Would you have time to go now? I think you'd find it quite an interesting place to see. We could talk about the manuscript along the way."
Burke agreed, and ten minutes later Captain Yun picked him up in front of the Chosun. The usual glut of morning traffic crowded the streets, but it was a short drive to the colorful open air bazaar. Burke had been near there on visits to the Bank of Korea. Facing the market across Namdaemunro, near the ancient gate, was the modern white high-rise headquarters of the Seoul Metropolitan Police Bureau, with its pagoda-like array of antennae on top.
"I brought the manuscript along," Burke said as he climbed into the unmarked police car. He placed the box on the seat between them. "I thought you'd want to read it for yourself. I've put paperclips along to mark the most significant sections."
"What did you mean that it explained what happened to Dr. Lee?"
"I was almost through the book when I found a note from Dr. Lowing. It was stuck in front of a chapter that dealt with the demise of the Northeast Anti-Japanese United Army."
"That was a guerrilla organization, as I recall from my Korean history," said Yun.
"Yeah. Kim Il-sung was a division commander. There were a few mentions along in the book about one of his detachment commanders called Horangi-chelmun."
Yun smiled. "Young Tiger."
Burke nodded. "Seems he was quite a tiger, too. He used the last name Lee, but according to Dr. Lee, it wasn't his real name. Like a lot of others, including Kim, he had chosen a pseudonym when he joined the partisans. He came up from Seoul with another teenager. At the time of the army's breakup — I believe it was 1941—Kim took his troops across the Tumen River to Vladivostok. But Young Tiger Lee picked three of his best fighters, apparently one of them his friend from Seoul, and moved back across the Yalu into Korea. He told the ones that went to the Soviet Union that his group would carry on their own guerrilla war against the Japanese. According to Dr. Lee's account, he was a master at hit-and-run tactics."
"The Poksu group." Yun's eyes flashed.
"According to the identities of the two who were killed at Taejon, Lee and another man were still at large when the war ended."
Captain Yun found a parking place at the edge of the market. When Burke saw the endless rows of stalls wandering off into the warren of streets and alleyways, he knew why Brittany had been so excited by her visit. Women bundled against the cold in thick insulated jackets swarmed among the stalls, haggling over vegetables, fish, produce, shoes, fabrics, casual ware. Burke marveled at the variety of merchandise.
"We're headed over this way," Captain Yun said, pointing out an alley toward the end of the block. "Why do you think Dr. Lee Yo-ku was murdered?"
They were passing a display of woven baskets that were stacked and hung in random profusion, all sizes, all shapes. Lori would have loved it, Burke thought. He turned back to the detective. "Dr. Lowing's note said he had talked with Dr. Lee just before leaving for Europe. Lee told him that with the shifting climate in Pyongyang, he had received some additional information, including photographs, from an old partisan. He said it could make the book a best seller. He intended to revise the chapter after he confirmed the new facts with, as he put it, 'the number two Poksu survivor in Chiangmai, Thailand.'"
"The number two survivor?" Yun repeated. "Horangi-chelmun's friend?"
"That's what I took it to mean. It's my guess the new information Dr. Lee received identified the two, probably had pictures of them."
"Somebody prominent enough that identifying him would make the book a best seller," said Yun.
"Somebody with enough to lose that it was worth killing Dr. Lee to stop its disclosure. Either the re-written chapter or the information from the old partisan, probably both, were in the briefcase and the computer."
"That would indicate Horangi-chelmun is likely the man behind the conspiracy," said Captain Yun. "The man who hired Hwang Sang-sol to eliminate the people who campaigned for close relations with the U.S."
If only I could tell him about Operation Pok Su, Burke agonized. It would show him that this thing was much larger than a simple conspiracy against leaders of the Korean-American Cooperation Association. But there was no way he could breathe a word about it as yet.
"Captain, do you have any suggestion on how we could get somebody up to Pyongyang to track down that old partisan, find out what he told Dr. Lee?"