Ahn Yong Kyu asked, “Is Stapley doing all right?”
“Not really, no. The landlord says he’s been sleeping all day. And at night they can hear him pacing around.”
“Have you spoken with him?”
“He’s a real hippie now. He begged me so much I had to buy a handful of marijuana for him. If this were Saigon, he could come out and wander around with no problem. There’s not a trace of military left in him.”
“His beard must be getting long by now. The day’s fast approaching.”
“We don’t know the exact date yet.”
“Don’t say another word about it,” said Yong Kyu, pointing his finger at Toi. “We promised Leon so we have to send him off safely to Nha Trang. You’re concerned about the business, aren’t you?”
Toi jumped up, upset. “What the hell do you take me for? It’s not that, it’s that the landlord’s son is on a boat that has to stop at many ports before returning here. He said he received a letter from his son saying he’d be arriving home a little later.”
“Let’s go see him today.”
As he looked out through the screen on the window, Yong Kyu spotted Nguyen Thach in a white cotton shirt over at the truck terminal area. Toi grumbled that the way he wore that shirt buttoned all the way up made Thach look like he was trying to imitate an aristocrat of the old Hue Dynasty. If he had a robe as well, he’d pass for a scholar of the old days. Yong Kyu watched him shaking hands and chatting with the truck drivers.
“Don’t you find him rather mysterious?”
“Who? Nguyen Thach?”
“Yes. You’re the one who said that even if he’s not NLF himself, he’ll be profiting from that side.”
Toi nodded. “That was my feeling in the beginning. Now, it’s just a matter of time. We’ll find out the contents of the US transactions and also who the big NLF dealer is. I’ve got lots of old friends working with the QCs at the guard posts by the smokestack bridge. I can smell something in the air.”
“Smell? What do you smell?”
“Too early to say. But the NLF’s local supply lines are sure as hell linked to the market across the bridge.”
“What’s Major Pham up to today?”
Toi laughed. “He’s out of Da Nang. Joined some operation.”
“Combat operation? You mean they kicked him out of the provincial office?”
“Pham Quyen is busy exploring the jungle. He’s obsessed with cinnamon. Rumor has it he’s issued an order to exterminate all the highland tribes up there. He’s quite a character. You haven’t seen Nguyen Cuong around either, have you? Maybe he’s also up in the jungle with Major Pham.”
“What about the supplies for the phoenix hamlets project?”
“They keep on coming out. It’s a first-rate enterprise for the office. But the reason I’m interested in the smokestack market is because the atmosphere’s a little strange.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Look, this is my country. I haven’t missed a single word. Go down to the pier and see for yourself. Rice keeps on being shipped out, but the cement and slate are staying put. What that means is that some other commodity is now popular.”
“It’s because Nguyen Thach has latched on to the channel for medical supplies, I’m sure.”
Toi listened without saying anything and then looked in his notebook. “Listen, Ahn, the construction material like cement and slate are mostly bought by little villages and farmers in non-occupied zones. That the first period of the NLF tax year has just started may be the reason for a shortage of money to buy such things, but in my opinion the reason is that the other items being purchased are war matériel. Guns and ammunition, to be exact. The merchants on the NLF side receive requisition orders from their district committees. What kind of items might those committees be most eager to lay their hands on? Money would flow to that direction. After a certain time passes, the money flow will be replenished. The taxes they are collecting will pour into the black market.”
“Here comes our Smarty.”
Upon catching sight of the clerk from Puohung Company, Yong Kyu cautioned Toi. A tall, lean man in his thirties entered. Toi spoke to him first. Even after he had taken a seat he kept glancing around uncomfortably.
“I don’t like this place,” he said.
“No need to worry,” Yong Kyu said, “we dine here with all the merchants in the market. This is only your second time here.”
Toi deliberately kept his mouth shut so that Yong Kyu could extract information for himself.
“Today was the navy cold storage again?” Yong Kyu asked.
“Yes.”
“Which American unit are they from?”
“Headquarters. Civic support unit.”
“Rank?”
“Gunnery sergeant.”
“What did he deliver and how much?”
“Vegetables again. Potatoes and onions.”
Toi spoke to Yong Kyu. “That’s strange. There haven’t been any big operations around Da Nang. I wonder why the Americans are still only bringing out vegetables.”
Yong Kyu waited for the clerk to reply.
“Well, that’s not really the case,” the clerk said. “No vegetables have been coming in to Da Nang from Dien Banh or the area around Jiang Hoa.”
“That’s Major Pham’s doing,” Toi said with a knowing air, then directly asked, “And why is there no fruit coming?”
“There is.”
Both men were greatly surprised.
“We’ve got a hundred boxes of apples ready to go,” the clerk went on, “but it’s been over a month since we shipped out any apples.”
“And why is that?”
“I don’t know. The US civic support unit is the one controlling the goods.”
“Anything else?”
“The bars and clubs downtown are complaining a lot lately.”
“Why?”
“They say Americans aren’t coming in anymore.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s all for today.”
The clerk was about to get up to go.
“Let’s have lunch together.”
The clerk looked uneasy at the prospect of lingering at the Chrysanthemum Pub.
“I’ve got a box lunch. I’ll return to the office.”
“Wait a minute,” Yong Kyu said. “We told you we’d give you three thousand piasters a month, plus an extra five hundred on any day when you bring us good information. Today’s news wasn’t exactly good, but we’ll give you another five hundred today as a token of our good will.”
“Thank you.”
The clerk quickly snatched the cash and then left without even looking back. Yong Kyu sliced up the duck.
“That wasn’t anything special.”
“Well, I’m not so sure.” His lips pursed and protruding, Toi was deeply absorbed in thought.
“That fruit, I just can’t get it off my mind. The vegetables are what they normally use to control prices, but this time it’s the opposite. That’s it: they’re trying to gauge the real demand in the market. What are apples?”
“A fruit greatly enjoyed by the rich and powerful of Da Nang. You don’t die when they’re unavailable.”
“Right. It’s been over a month since the Vietnamese military officers and government officials tasted apples. If you start slowly releasing them into the market, they’ll sell very well. And when you check the volume of sales, you can estimate how much black money is circulating these days among the upper class of Da Nang. I’m sure there’ll be some choice grade meats, too.”
“But what do you make of the restriction on passes for the American soldiers?”
“Probably no military significance. We’ll have to dig around a little more to know, but some sort of change is in the air, don’t you think?”
Toi was holding up the long Chinese-style chopsticks and tapping the table with their bottoms.