After a few moments, Sir Cedric said:
“It seems that the experiment would need to be carried out on a hostile entity. That complicates matters considerably. And again, how do we get information about the results? Let’s all consider this conundrum for a few days. When Martin returns we’ll use his brainpower as well. By the way, Patrick, you’ll have to inform Herr Lemke that we need a supply of this gravel of his. Otherwise, we’ll have nothing to experiment with.”
Martin and Spencer returned to Seoul. While waiting in their hotel for dusk to fall, they rehearsed the anticipated meeting in Ch’orwon. It was understood that they would not reveal the real reason for their visit. But they had to find out exactly what the man they were about to meet could do for them. For instance, he would probably want to know what they wanted to smuggle across the border.
“Well, we’ve got to say something,” Martin said. “Even if it’s not very specific—like machines, or food, or chemicals.”
“And we need to consider the packaging, too,” Spencer said. “Will we be bringing crates or sacks or what?”
“Right you are. And, of course, we need a destination. We need to be very careful here. If the chap is anything like Charlie we won’t be able to just invent stories.”
There was a lengthy pause.
“All right,” Martin said. “Let me bounce the following off you. We’re here on a preliminary ‘study tour,’ as it were. We’re checking just what the smuggling traffic will allow—what merchandise, where to, what size, what packaging, what frequency, and at what cost.”
“Like maybe Pyongyang is off limits because of security reasons,” Spencer said.
“That’s right!” Martin was warming up to the idea. “If they insist on knowing who we are, we tell them we belong to an international aid drive funded by philanthropists in the West. We tell them that after we know the ins and outs of their methodology, we’ll go back to England and arrange for the deliveries.”
“If he’s like Charlie, he’ll smile from ear to ear and tell us it’s a pile of bullshit.”
“Then we play it by ear. Anything but tell him we intend to topple the North Korean government.”
When it became dark, Martin and Spencer headed north again. At exactly ten o’clock, they knocked at Charlie’s front door. They were greeted by his wife, who invited them in with a shy bow.
“Please sit down,” she said in perfect English. “My husband will be here presently.” Martin confirmed his previous impression that women spoke languages better than men. Their accent was better, too.
Two minutes later, Charlie entered the room accompanied by a thin man. He was taller than the average Korean, and his face was deeply tanned and wrinkled—typical for an outdoors person who spent a lot of time in the sun and wind.
“Gentlemen,” Charlie said. “Meet Sing. At least, that’s how he’s known around here. Sing, these are the Englishmen I told you about—Martin and Spencer.”
There were handshakes all around, and the foursome sat around a low table. Charlie’s wife served them tea.
“Now, gentlemen,” Sing said, his English was as good as Charlie’s, “what can I do for you?”
Martin cleared his throat.
“I’ll be quite frank with you,” he said. “We represent an international drive to aid the oppressed and needy. You’ve probably heard of such organizations, so you’ll know that some are public and official while others are private and avoid the headlines. Ours is one of those private ones. Our movement is funded by philanthropists, among them a few billionaires from Europe and the United States. They do not want their names to be made public in this altruistic enterprise. So that’s where we come in. We need to know how deliveries may be made to the North Korean people using your good graces and your resourcefulness. You see, they are convinced that the official aid sent to the Pyongyang government ends up in the corrupt leadership’s pockets, and that the people get nothing. If you can tell us what is feasible to take across we can plan the deliveries. And we also must know how the goods get to the needy.”
Martin’s eyes never left Sing’s face as he spoke, but he could not see a flicker of any kind of reaction. There was a long silence. More tea was served by Charlie’s wife.
“We transport anything and everything,” Sing said finally. “Weight and size are of no matter. Yes, we can get to Pyongyang and to almost any other location in North Korea. But distribution is not our concern. We get an address and we deliver the merchandise—that’s it. You’ll bring us the goods, tell us where it goes, pay in advance and it will arrive there. You don’t ask how we do it or who is involved on either side, and we don’t inquire about you and your people. Everybody is happy and there aren’t any problems.”
Clear and succinct. Martin wanted to keep the conversation going.
“And how do you determine the price for your services?”
“Gut feeling,” Sing said unhesitatingly. “We look at the size and shape and determine a figure. Then we raise this number if the package is particularly heavy or the destination is far or inaccessible.”
Martin felt that these straightforward replies to his questions would very soon leave him with nothing more to ask. He needed additional, significant information to bring back to the association.
“May I ask you something unrelated to your occupation?” he said.
“As long as you don’t pry into my occupation—certainly.”
“Well,” Martin said slowly. “I’m referring to you as an expert on the conditions on both sides of the border. I mentioned earlier that we had to know that our stuff reached those who needed it most, and you have clearly stated that that is something you do not handle. I was wondering,” Martin smiled at Sing, “do you think that in, say … Pyongyang, there is a person or persons who would be prepared to undertake the distribution work?”
Sing’s expression did not change.
“I mean for pay, of course.” Martin continued rapidly. “Either as a part of the goods or in cash.”
Sing dipped his head in thought, pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. He was obviously searching for the right words without over-revealing anything. Then he raised his head again. For the first time, Martin noted, the smile had disappeared.
“Anything is possible in a country overrun by corruption,” he said quietly.
“And do you think this person could rent an apartment or a warehouse where the goods could be stored until distribution time?”
“Same answer as before.” Sing’s smile had returned.
“Forgive me, Sing, if my questions seem to compromise you. That is certainly not my intention—but I was sent here to obtain answers to these questions for our cause, and you are one of the key factors in our plans. I hope you understand that if I now returned to England and arrived here again a couple of weeks from today with, er … merchandise, I won’t have an address to send it to, and I won’t know if it will be taken care of the way we request. So, you see, I have a problem to solve while I am still here. For pay, of course. Can you help me?”
Sing shut his eyes and seemed to go into a trance. The only difference in his expression was the slight furrow in his brow. The smile remained unchanged. Finally, he reopened his eyes.
“I don’t know what operation you’re cooking up, Mr. Englishman, and I admit that your questions are difficult to answer. However,” the smile turned into a wide grin, “my answer is yes, I can. But it will take time.”
Spencer was highly entertained as he followed his boss’ verbal maneuvering, but his face showed no emotion whatsoever.
“You appear to be a very resourceful man, Mr. Sing,” Martin said warmly. “I think we shall enjoy working with you very much. How long do you think you’ll need in order to find the person and the place in Pyongyang? Two weeks? Three? More?”
“Yes, three weeks should do it. You may return with the goods in three weeks. I do not know how much storage and distribution will cost—like I said, I don’t handl
e these activities. I’ll need to send out some of my men to snoop around. I may need to pay rent or ‘service’ fees. I shall need an advance of one thousand dollars, please.”
Martin was surprised at the low amount Sing requested. Perhaps in North Korea this was considered a fortune. Keeping his poker face, Martin took out his wallet and counted out ten hundred-dollar bills, which he placed on the table. Sing picked them up without batting an eyelid and pocketed them. A handshake with Martin and Spencer closed the deal.
“We shall meet here in three weeks,” Charlie said. “Sing and I will be waiting.”
“Thank you both for your cooperation,” Martin said. “It has been a pleasure.”
Charlie and Sing remained silent until the sound of the departing car faded into silence.
“What do you think?” Charlie asked in their native tongue. Neither of them was smiling now. Sing rubbed his chin.
“Do you suppose they’re planning to establish a spy ring?” he responded.
“Not really. That’s definitely not how you build a spy network. But I have a feeling that it’s not what they say it is.”
“So? Do we push ahead with their plan? If they return in three weeks, and they may not, we could always tell them that we failed to find a place or a person because of the danger involved—our accomplice could pay with his life. And that would be that. No refund, of course. As a matter of fact, we could say we had additional expenses and demand more money.”
“Well, in my opinion,” Charlie said carefully, “and you know you can rely on my intuition, these Englishmen don’t have a clue. They’re groping in the dark and they’ll buy any story we give them. But I can smell a lot of money here if we cooperate with them. You can always back out if you don’t like the way things are going … they have nothing that binds you to them. So, in answer to your question, yes—I think we should go ahead with them.”
Sing nodded.
In the car on the way back to Seoul, Martin exhaled as though he had been holding his breath for the past hour.
“I think we could say that our mission was accomplished,” he said.
“And quite masterfully, too, I think,” Spencer said. “There were moments when I thought we had arrived at the end of the line, but you always found the right words to bring the topic back to what interested us. And sometimes I thought the man would just get up and walk out on us. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.”
“Thank goodness. Listen, Spencer. When we get back to the hotel, make arrangements at the desk for flying back to London tomorrow, okay? I have a phone call to make.”
“Consider it done.”
Back at their hotel in Seoul, Martin called Anne from his room.
“Hello, darling!” Anne was genuinely excited to hear Martin’s voice.
“Hello yourself, love,” he replied. “I miss you terribly.”
“Me, too. How’s your trip going?”
“The place is far prettier than I expected. One more tour and we’re headed for home.”
“How are you managing with the language?
“Not much of a challenge. Almost everyone speaks English fluently. How are things with you?”
“You know—same old same old. There are a couple of letters for you.”
“Bills, probably. They can wait.”
“And how is the weather there? I hope it rained cats and dogs all the time, just because I’m not there with you.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, love. Clear and sunny the whole time.”
“Lucky you. Take care, darling.” They both hung up.
FORTY-ONE
When Martin and Spencer went down to the dining room for breakfast the next morning, there was a commotion by the front desk. People were talking to each other heatedly, and there was a lot of hand gesticulating.
“What’s up?” Martin asked the desk clerk.
The latter smiled and handed Martin the morning newspaper in English. With Spencer reading over his shoulder, Martin read:
ROH MOO-HYUN MEETS N. KOREAN LEADER
North and South Korea are on their way toward appeasement. The two leaders met in Pyongyang for a summit meeting. They discussed establishing peace between the two countries. South Korea would assist her Northern sister in matters of economy, tourism and other fields. The opening of the railway lines between the two Koreas was also discussed.
It is to be remembered that since the nineteen fifties, even though the war was officially over, a declaration to that effect has never been made. From the purely formal point of view, the two countries are still at war.
Martin and Spencer exchanged meaningful glances. This could mean that their efforts could have been in vain, and that smugglers would not need to be employed any longer.
“Congratulations!” Martin said to the desk clerk as he returned the newspaper. “It looks like you’re on the way to unite North and South Korea into a single nation.”
“Sir,” replied the receptionist. “You are evidently new to these parts and unacquainted with local matters. Kim Jong-il is a crafty fox. He runs the cruelest dictatorship imaginable. He was never prepared to share his power with anyone else, let alone rescind it altogether. But he is in dire economic straits today, and has been for a long time. He is totally bankrupt. So now he wants to latch onto us and milk us for our money.”
“So what does your president hope to achieve from this meeting?” Spencer asked.
“Frankly, I have no idea,” the clerk grinned. “But I have no doubt that our president knows exactly who his counterpart is. I am willing to wager that after the meeting, everything will be as before over there—poverty, hunger, persecution and assassinations. So please, sir, do not congratulate me!”
Commissaire Duval visited the widow Allier once again. His lengthy experience with interrogation techniques proved that, given time, the human mind brings back memories of tiny details, seemingly unimportant. But when put together with other facts they sometimes serve to fill in an otherwise incomplete picture.
Mme. Allier received him warmly. She knew he was truly concerned with the solving of her husband’s death, and she made every effort to assist him. They discussed various aspects of the case, when the commissaire suddenly asked:
“What did you usually talk about? I mean, like over dinner?”
Though surprised by his question, she did her best to answer.
“Nothing special, really,” she said. “You know—current affairs, the house, the grandchildren …”
“And his work? Did he ever discuss his work?”
“Commissaire, Albert’s work was so scientific and professional, it was all way above my head. We had no common grounds regarding his work.”
“I quite understand, Madame. I was not referring to the scientific aspect of his work. I was referring to his relationships with his fellow-workers. Was everything smooth in that regard? Did he ever tell you of a conflict he may have had with a colleague? Perhaps even a quarrel? How about meetings with people outside his institution?”
Mme. Allier shook her head, smiling.
“I’m afraid I did not follow every little detail of his meetings and conversations, commissaire.”
Duval leaned forward.
“Please try to remember,” he said as respectfully as he could. “You told me he had meetings with a certain Englishman. Did he not say anything about the nature of this meeting?”
“I honestly do not believe this has any significance whatsoever to your case. But as you are so insistent—yes, I do remember a trivial incident. I once accused him of fabricating these scientific meetings, while in actuality he was partying somewhere. He became very annoyed and retorted: ‘These are not pleasure lunches—we’re discussing very important issues.’ I replied, rather untactfully, I’m ashamed to confess: ‘That’s what they all say.’ Then Albert got really angry, and he shouted: ‘They are all looking out for themselves. We are trying to save everyone.’ And that’s how the conversation ended.”
“Was that all
?” Duval inquired. “This was never discussed again?”
“Come to think of it, there was one more occasion. The next time he was off to see the Englishman, I said: ‘You and your bloody Englishman!’ Albert was furious! He yelled at me: ‘That’s damn right! My Englishman, and all the Englishmen, and all the Frenchmen and all the Europeans as well!’ I remember now, while telling you this, that Albert was indeed very absorbed in something. Something was occupying his mind all the time. You know, I’m beginning to believe that he really may have been doing something outside his work at the university.”
Commissaire Duval raised an eyebrow.
FORTY-TWO
They had gathered at Anne’s apartment and the report on Seoul was first on the agenda. Martin gave a detailed account on all that happened in South Korea. He ended by mentioning the meeting between the presidents of South and North Korea.
“The reception clerk at the hotel was of the opinion that this was a ruse by the North Korean president to upgrade his international position.”
“I believe he was right,” the admiral said. “Everything I’ve heard and read so far indicates that Kim Jong-il is desperate to improve North Korea’s economic and political status so that he can prepare for the future. This does not necessarily mean that the people’s condition will improve. I have no doubt that smuggling across the South Korean border will continue for a long time to come. It will remain the main artery through which basic necessities will be supplied.”
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