"What's the prosecutor's problem?" asked Han Mi-jung, coming over to knead his shoulders in a gentle massage. Her future mother-in-law had given her a few instructions in that soothing art.
Se-jin rolled his head from side to side and relaxed his puzzled frown. "He took a leave of absence. Nervous exhaustion, they said. I don't know why. Dad said Park always left him the hard work." He gave a long sigh. "That feels great. Have you been moonlighting in a massage parlor?"
"Smarty," she said, giving him a playful slap on the cheek.
Mi-jung had smooth, flawless skin, large, bright eyes and gently molded features that had always drawn men's stares. "I got a glimpse of my high-flying neighbor this morning," she added. "He gave me the evil eye as usual, but this time he smiled. I'll bet he'd like a massage."
Se-jin knew the "evil eye," as she called it, was her term for the typical chauvinist Korean male's reaction, delight at her shapely figure, but disapproval of the police uniform that adorned it.
"I didn't know the guy was back," he said with a look of mild distaste.
"He must have just stopped in for a change of clothes, maybe to leave his laundry. He was on his way out carrying a small suitcase."
They often joked about the man from the neighboring apartment. He was there so infrequently they speculated that he might one day forget where he lived. He had occupied the unit less than a year. The building manager had told Mi-jung the apartment was paid for and kept up by Reijeo Electronics, for whom the man named Min worked as a traveling technical representative. Apparently he traveled all over the Far East maintaining or consulting on Reijeo systems.
"What did you do with that letter Superintendent General Choi gave you?" Se-jin's mother asked.
"Got it right here," he said, pulling the envelope from his pocket. He slit it open and took out the single sheet of paper. As he read the brief note, he glanced up wide-eyed, his look part consternation, part puzzlement. But mostly he looked as though he'd just encountered some sort of apparition. It was as though his father were speaking from the grave.
"What's wrong?" his mother asked.
His voice filled with bitterness. "This letter, he was expecting something to happen to him. He said if it did, I should contact that American, Burke Hill, in a search for the culprit."
"The man who came here to dinner?"
Se-jin nodded. "It sounds like he thought Hill would have something to do with it. Maybe he hired whoever drove the car. It could have been murder, not an accident."
Mi-jung leaned over to read the letter still clutched in his hand. "Could he have meant for you to ask Burke Hill about the culprit?"
Se-jin was not interested in considering any alternatives. His father had been taken away from him. The possibility of it being murder had made him furious. "If he had meant for me to ask Burke Hill, why didn't he write 'ask Burke Hill'?"
Mi-jung shrugged.
Se-jin and his father had had their differences, but he was as devoted as any Korean son. Further, he had the utmost regard for Captain Yun as a professional. This would be a vindication of his father's position. He had died in the line of duty, pursuing his assignment, not as the result of some random, freakish accident that could be simply sloughed off as a regrettable misfortune.
He stared at the letter with a tormented frown. He had picked up hints from discussions with his father that Captain Yun was investigating some kind of multiple murder conspiracy, and that it dealt in some way with Americans. But how did Burke Hill figure into it? And why had his father been killed in Pyongyang? Was there some duplicity between the Americans and the communists? With Park gone, there was no easy way to check into the facts. He knew his father was not one to confide in other people except when absolutely necessary, or when a case was ready for prosecution. Who should he tell about the letter? Se-jin worked out of the Tongdaemun Police Station, which was located a few blocks east of Pagoda Park. Would it be best to show the letter to his superiors or take it to Captain Yun's boss, Supervisor So? Because of its explosive nature, he thought, the letter would quickly wind up at Police Bureau Headquarters.
His fiancee seemed to be reading his mind. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm not sure. If I took it to the Bureau, they would probably sit on it until things are worked out with Pyongyang. The government doesn't want to do anything that might upset anybody up north. I wish I knew how my father's investigation involved Burke Hill."
"Maybe you should talk to him, without letting him know about the letter," Han Mi-jung said.
He pondered that for a moment. "Might be worth a try." He looked around for Hill's business card, which he had noticed among Captain Yun's papers. The Captain had written the Seoul office number on it. He called and asked for Burke Hill.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant Yun, but Mr. Hill has gone back to Washington," said the young woman who answered. "Would you like to speak with Mr. Chan? He's our local manager."
The disappointment was obvious in his tone as he said, "Yes, please."
After a moment, a friendly voice came on the line. "You must be Captain Yun's son. I was expecting a call from him. Is he back in town?"
Why would he be expecting a call, Se-jin wondered? Was this merely a ruse? Was the man really unaware of his father's death? "I thought you had probably heard," he said. "My father died in an automobile accident in Pyongyang Saturday."
"Oh, no! That's terrible."
It sounded like genuine grief, Se-jin thought. But, then, this man may not have been involved, personally. "It was a hit-and-run accident," he said. "They haven't found the driver."
"I'm awfully sorry," Mr. Chan said. "I know it'll be a blow to Burke. He was very fond of your father."
I'll bet he was, Se-jin thought, twisting his face into a scowl. Murderously fond. "When will Mr. Hill be coming back to Korea?" he asked.
"He doesn't have any plans to be back anytime soon. I'll call him tonight and tell him about this. I must have missed it in the newspapers."
"It was covered in a very small story," said Se-jin, his voice betraying his disappointment. "The funeral was today."
"Did they give you any details of what happened?"
Se-jin told him what the North Korean police reported. He explained the reasoning given him for keeping the story practically under wraps.
"I can see their point," Chan said. "You probably know Burke was assisting him in the investigation that took him to Pyongyang. I wonder if he might have talked to any of the other officers up there about what he had accomplished?"
So Hill was "assisting" him, Se-jin thought. No doubt it was Hill's suggestion that sent his father to his rendezvous with death. "I'm not aware that he talked to anybody," he said. If he had, no one had mentioned it. "Look, if Mr. Hill should come back anytime soon, please ask him to call me."
"Be happy to. I'm sure he'd want to talk to you, anyway."
When the mail arrived that afternoon, Ji-young brought a large brown envelope into Jerry's office.
"This is for Mr. Hill," she said. "Should we forward it to him? It has a Pyongyang postmark."
"Let me have it," he said. "I have to call Burke tonight. I'll see what he wants to do about it."
She went back out to her desk, and Jerry stared intently at the envelope. It couldn 't have aroused his curiosity more if it had contained a map bearing the location of buried treasure. Surely it had been sent by Captain Yun, or by someone acting in his behalf. The name in the return address was unfamiliar, but they had no other contacts in North Korea. Could it be a treasure, indeed? The treasure they had sought, the solution to the Poksu puzzle? He decided to go ahead and open it.
Carefully, he slit open the envelope and slipped out a photograph and a brief note. He stared at them with obvious disappointment. The faces in the photo were dim and indistinct. One was Young Tiger Lee, who was not further identified. The other was Ahn Wi-jong, his friend. Jerry concentrated a moment on a nagging thought from the past. Ahn. There had been an Ahn who was a big sho
t in the Korean drug-smuggling ring that operated out of Chiangmai, Thailand. Could there be any relation?
Washington, D.C.
Chapter 56
"You just missed a freebie, boss," a smiling Evelyn Tilson said as Burke walked in carrying his heavy briefcase, having driven straight to the office from Dulles. It was around noon.
"A freebie?"
"Yes, sir. As in free lunch. The Chief came by a little while ago with a visiting fireman in tow. Was going to invite you to his club for lunch. He left a file for you to look at post haste. How was your trip?"
"Interesting," he said with a grin. "You might even say exciting. I ran into my son."
That brought an expression of shock. "Little Cameron, not two weeks old?"
"No, no. My son by my first marriage. I hadn't seen him in twenty years."
"I didn't know you had a son by your first marriage," she said. "In fact, I barely knew you had a first marriage. Look, it's fine to keep company secrets. That's the law. But family secrets are something else." She followed him into his office. "Sit down and start at the beginning. Tell me all about this long missing sibling."
He shook his head. "It's too long a story for now, Evelyn. I'll tell you about it in due course. You'd better bring me that file now."
"Slave driver," she said, exhaling a deep sigh as she headed for her desk.
She was back a few moments later with an amber folder. It contained a memo from Nate. Jerry Chan had called and informed him about Captain Yun's death. Also about the envelope from Pyongyang containing the photograph.
The news of Yun's death hit him a stunning blow. He sat there for a moment almost in shock, then studied the memo again. There were no details, just the stark statement that Yun had been killed in an accident in Pyongyang. What kind of accident? When had it happened? Were there witnesses? He thought of his father-in-law's death in Hong Kong. Could it have been something other than accidental? He felt a slight annoyance that the piece of paper would reveal nothing further.
Then he re-read the part about the envelope from Pyongyang. Faxed copies of the photograph and note were attached. It had to have been sent by Captain Yun. Did that mean he anticipated something might happen to him? The note was as bare of detail as the surface of a 100-watt bulb, but lacking its quality of enlightenment. Evidently he had made contact with the old partisan. Why hadn't he included an explanation of what he had learned about the Young Tiger's identity? Recalling the letter from Dr. Lowing that came with the manuscript, he speculated that Ahn Wi-jong was the man Dr. Lee had planned to visit in Chiangmai, Thailand. He was apparently Young Tiger Lee's childhood friend and could confirm the Poksu leader's real name. The photograph offered some intriguing prospects, though Jerry seemed to think it was too dark to be of help. You couldn't tell much from the faxed copy.
He checked his watch. It would be after two a.m. in Seoul, but there were too many unanswered questions. Furthermore, he needed to get someone on the way to Thailand. That had to be where the final answers lay, and with the way people bearing crucial information had been dropping like insects from a bug zapper, he knew it was necessary to track down Ahn Wi-jong without delay. He tried to remember if he had told Jerry about the Chiangmai angle.
He dialed the number for Jerry's apartment and was surprised to hear it answered on the first ring.
"Don't tell me you were sitting up waiting for my call?" Burke asked half-seriously.
"Actually, I've been up about thirty minutes," Jerry said. "I wasn't sleeping too well."
"I didn't know you were bothered with insomnia."
"I'm not. Normally. I guess I've been stupidly worrying about what the doctor said yesterday morning."
"What did he say?"
"He thinks I have some artery blockage problems. He wants to do an arteriogram today. Hell, I can't believe this, Burke. I run four-to-six days a week. I've got an appetite like a horse, though I try to stay in bounds on my eating. I should be as healthy as a linebacker for the Forty-Niners."
"Is this doctor any good?" Burke asked.
"Got his degree from Johns Hopkins."
"Sounds good to me."
"He was recommended by a doctor at the Embassy. Of course, he says it may not be all that bad. Probably clear it up with that balloon they run through your arteries. Balloon angioplasty, or something like that."
"Let's hope so," Burke said. Then his voice took on a note of agitation as he changed the subject. "Now tell me, for God's sake, what happened to Captain Yun?"
Jerry told him about the call from Lieutenant Yun Se-jin. Afterward, he had looked back in the newspaper and found the article, so small he had missed it at first.
"They didn't find the driver, huh?" Burke asked. "Did he give any hint that it might have been other than accidental?"
"No. Are you thinking it might have something to do with this character Hwang?"
"That's a definite possibility. Why would Yun have mailed the photograph unless he suspected something might happen to him?"
"Good question. Incidentally, I put the photo on a flight to the States before I came home last night. You should have it first thing in the morning. I'm afraid it's too dark to tell you much, though."
"Glad you sent it on, Jerry. You'd be surprised what they might be able to coax out of it. I'll send it to Langley. They'll put it through a digital enhancement process like the astronomers use on those TV images from the space probes. It'll magnify subtle differences in tone that the naked eye can't detect. If we're lucky, we could wind up with digitized pictures that'll be as detailed as close-up shots."
"Really? I wasn't aware of that. Tell me, do you have any ideas on this Ahn Wi-jong? The only Ahn I've ever heard of was a guy who helped run a drug operation in Thailand. I ran across him when I was working with the DEA in Chiangmai."
Burke nearly shouted. "You just said the magic word."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Chiangmai. I guess I neglected to mention earlier something I read in that letter from Dr. Cabot Lowing. When Dr. Lee called him the day before he died, he said he planned to visit Chiangmai, where he intended to confirm the facts he'd received from Pyongyang with the number two Poksu survivor. I took that to mean the Young Tiger's old friend."
"Wonder if he might be related to the younger Ahn?" Jerry said. "I don't think I'd have any problem making contact with him."
"Would you be in shape to go?" Burke asked.
Jerry gave a brief chuckle. "I'm feeling better already. I'll let you know after the arteriogram."
"What about your old buddy, Moon Chwa? Have you talked to him?"
"He came by this afternoon. The Blue House is now denying they know anything about Dr. Shin or his whereabouts."
"Could it be the NSP acted without President Kwak's knowledge?"
"Possibly," Jerry said. "But not likely."
"Didn't the rumors have the NSP upset with the president's decree on this Japanese language thing? As best I recall, Colonel Han Sun-shin, the NSP director, was the one who ordered Prosecutor Park to get Captain Yun off the trail of Hwang Sang-sol. Makes you wonder."
"The one I'm wondering about now is Prime Minister Hong Oh-san," Jerry said. "He's moved out of the president's shadow recently. Yesterday I heard that relations between the two had become pretty strained. He spoke to a big student rally and promised unification with the North was just around the corner. He said he was determined that the government would do things to make all Koreans proud."
"Like a missile firing and an atomic test?"
"That's the thought that hit me. By the way, Moon Chwa enlightened me on the Reijeo PR problem at Chuwangsan," Jerry said. "He's been in contact with another dissident from the plant. Seems the company has cancelled all leaves and days off until January. No more outings to Andong. For all practical purposes, it's a lock-in until time for that bomb test."
Jerry said he would have Song Ji-young check on flight schedules to Bangkok while he was at the hospital for his test
s. He would tell her he had to go to Bangkok on behalf of the Coalition for Nuclear Freedom. Once there, he could book a flight to Chiangmai with no problem.
After he had finished talking to Jerry, Burke called Langley for Kingsley Marshall. The director was out, but he got Jarvis Breedlove, the Deputy Director for Intelligence, a former NSA whiz kid whose people were involved with the esoterics of technical intelligence. Burke explained what he needed done with the photograph.
"No problem," Breedlove said. "Get it to us and we'll take care of it. Kingsley said to give you guys priority on this HANGOVER operation."
"Thanks. I'll have it delivered to Clipper Cruise & Travel soon as I get it in the morning. Your courier can pick it up there. If I could get the results by late tomorrow, I'd be grateful." Using the travel agency was a convenient way to avoid direct contact with the CIA. Lori would provide the proper instructions for her people.
Seoul, South Korea
Chapter 57
The day was bright and cold. The sky over Seoul seemed to have been bleached out like a pair of stone-washed jeans. In the Worldwide Communications Consultants office on Taepyong-ro, the mood was quite the opposite. Jerry had left for his hospital appointment after announcing to the staff that the doctor had suspected a heart problem. He tried to make it sound routine and unimportant, but the weary look that stemmed from his lack of sleep had given his words a hollow ring.
Jerry and Ji-young had endeavored to keep their relationship on a strictly professional level at the office, but the others knew she enjoyed more than a casual aquaintance with the manager outside business hours. Duane Elliston pressed her for more details.
"What's the real story, Miss Song?" he asked. "How bad is it?"
She shook her head somberly. "I don't know any more than you do, really. The doctor said he couldn't tell much until they did the arteriogram. He thinks it's an artery blockage. Jerry's worried, I know. But who wouldn't be?"
The Poksu Conspiracy (Post Cold War Political Thriller Book 2) Page 37