Buddha's Money (27 page)

AT THE SMALL BUS STATION IN PYONGTAEK WE FOUND A STORE owner who had sold Herman a bottle of 7 Star Cider.

"He took a taxi," the man said.

"Which way did they go?"

"Toward the American compound."

This time Ernie managed to buy a pack of ginseng gum that hadn't already dried to bonfire kindling.

THE MPS AT THE FRONT GATE OF CAMP HUMPHREYS HAD JUST come on shift, so they didn't know anything. Besides, army retirees are a common sight in Anjong-ri. It's an out-of-the-way compound, the black-marketing is easy, and the village is full of cheap hooches and cold beer. The pot of gold waiting at the end of a military career.

Herman's trail was rapidly fading, but we decided to take one more shot. We drove onto the compound and checked at the Aviation Battalion's operation desk.

The sergeant behind the counter was helpful. "Army retiree, overweight, trying to catch a helicopter flight out of the area. Yeah," he said, "we had one who matched that description just a few minutes ago." He searched his manifest. "I checked his ID card myself. Name's Burkowicz, Herman R., First Sergeant, U.S. Army, retired."

Ernie nearly leapt over the counter. "Where'd he go?"

"Caught one of our routine medical flights. Chopper left here not twenty minutes ago. Heading to the H-105 airfield, Yongsan Compound, Seoul."

"Shit!" Ernie pounded his fist on the vinyl countertop.

"Any chance of radioing them to turn back?"

"No way."

"This is official business," Ernie said. "Involving the crimes of kidnapping and murder. What's this 'no way' bullshit?"

The sergeant's eyes narrowed. "I said no way because it's not possible to turn the copter back."

"What do you mean?"

"Radio report came in just before you guys walked in here. They've already landed and ... let me check here." He shuffled through a sheaf of papers. "The passenger disembarked, five minutes ago."

I thought about calling the MP Station in Seoul and sending a patrol jeep out to the landing pad. But it was too late. Herman had already hoofed it out the gate by now. He'd disappeared into the swirling madness of Seoul.

Ernie kept cursing. The sergeant behind the counter glared at him. I tried to make peace but my heart wasn't in it.

The ride back to Seoul was quiet. Except for the gears. Ernie kept grinding them.

Along with his teeth.

IT WAS ALREADY LATE AFTERNOON, WE COULD'VE GONE INTO the office, but who needed another ass-chewing from the First Sergeant? Besides, the groups of demonstrators holding portraits of Choi So-lan, the Buddhist nun, had grown. Traffic was backed up all along the MSR. Seeing the concerned faces on the small gaggles of women was depressing. Just another reminder of our failure.

We cruised into Itaewon, found a parking spot in one of the alleys behind the main drag, and strolled listlessly down toward the nightclubs.

The first few splats of rain hit the pavement.

Ragyapa was well hidden. So was Herman. It could take us weeks to find either one of them. Time we didn't have. Not if we wanted to save the life of Lady Ahn.

And meanwhile the clock was ticking for Choi So-lan, the nun who'd been attacked here in Itaewon. If Eighth Army didn't turn Pfc. Hatcher over to the Korean authorities— and turn him over soon—she would pour gasoline over her bald head late tomorrow afternoon and light it with a match.

All our effort in stealing the jade skull of Kublai Khan from the monks of Bian-do was for nothing. Mi-ja was dead. And now it looked as if Lady Ahn and the nun would soon meet the same fate.

A filthy street urchin tugged on my sleeve.

"Hey, GI!"

"Go away. We're busy."

"Somebody look for you. Behind UN Club. You go cheeky cheeky."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know. He say you come quick."

Ernie handed the boy a stick of gum by way of a tip and the dirty child scurried off.

"He didn't even ask for money," Ernie said.

"Somebody already paid him. So we might as well check it out."

Ernie patted the .45 under his jacket. "I'm ready."

Behind the UN Club, a maze of alleys stretched back to the Itaewon Market. A few droplets of light rain managed to penetrate the gloom. Our shoes sloshed in mud.

I heard heavy breathing, and then someone stepped out of a side alley.

Herman the German.

Ernie reached for his .45.

Herman raised his stubby arms. "Where the hell you guys been? I been waiting for you."

His eyes were still aggrieved and moist and his lips were as blubbery as ever. A large leather bag that looked as if it held a volleyball hung from his shoulder.

Ernie clanged back the charging handle of his .45.

"Turn around, Herman," Ernie said. "Slow."

He did as he was told and I slammed him up against the stone wall and frisked him. No weapons.

Herman turned his pleading eyes on me and clutched my arm. "You have to
hide
me, Sueño. They're
after
me."

"Ragyapa and his Mongols would only give you what you deserve."

"Mongols? Who gives a fuck about a bunch of Mongols?"

If Herman wasn't worried about Ragyapa, then who was he so frightened of? I shoved him away.

"Somebody's got you about ready to shit in your pants, Herman. Who is it?"

Even as I asked the question, I suddenly knew the answer.

Ernie screwed the nozzle of the .45 into Herman's ear. "Who's after you, Herman?"

'The Slicky Boys!" Herman roared. "Who in the hell else?"

31

SLICKY GIRL NAM PLACED BOTH HANDS FLAT ON THE STONE floor—thumbs and forefingers touching—and bowed her head three times. She kept her skull pressed against the granite, waiting for permission to rise.

"It has been many years," said Herbalist So, the King of the Slicky Boys.

Slicky Girl Nam sat back on her heels, keeping her eyes demurely cast toward the floor. "Too long, Good Herbalist. You honor me by accepting this worthless old one into your presence."

The cavern was dark, lit only by flickering fires beneath simmering earthen pots. The odors of bat wings and ginger root and boiling deer antler wafted through the shadows.

"I have never forgotten your service to my father," Herbalist So told her.

"And I have never forgotten it either. At that time I was barely more than a child. But my friend Kimiko and I were your father's favorites. We served him well."

Herbalist So's father was the man who had established the slicky boy operation, the man who had organized all the Korean thieves who preyed off the compounds of the American military. He controlled their operations, stealing only what the Americans could afford to lose, ensuring long-term profitability for everyone.

When she first came to Itaewon, Slicky Girl Nam was only fifteen. Fresh-faced and shapely, she had been summoned to the presence of the King of the Slicky Boys. Even now she trembled at the thought of the power in the man's eyes—and the hot need of his hard body.

Although his son, Herbalist So, controlled a multimillion-dollar cartel of thieves, Slicky Girl Nam still thought of him as a boy. She always would. Because her finest memories were of the nights she had slept with his father.

Herbalist So seemed to read her thoughts, and was impatient with them. He used a less formal level of Korean. "You've come to me for a reason, Mother of Mi-ja. State it."

Slicky Girl Nam bowed once again. "I seek revenge," she said.

"Against whom?"

"Against my husband."

Only a slight rustling of cotton betrayed Herbalist So's shift on the hard wooden bench. He stared at her with dark eyes gleaming from a face as weathered as his earthen pots.

"A dispute between a husband and a wife," he said. "This is a very difficult thing."

"My husband, Herman the German, murdered my daughter. He killed my Mi-ja. All for greed. Because he lusted for possession of an ancient antique." Slicky Girl Nam straightened her back and stared directly into Herbalist So's eyes.

"You owe me," she said. "For years of service. First, for being your father's consort. And after he died, I became a streetwalker for the big-nosed GIs." She waved her arm.
"Thousands
of them! And when I was too old for even them, I took a job as a trash truck driver on the American compound and told you of the location of all the valuable commodities." She jabbed her thumb into her chest. "But did I ask anything for myself? No. You became rich, rich beyond imagining, and I received only a common wage."

Herbalist So's eyelids lowered. "You are forgetful, Mother of Mi-ja. Did we not forge a new set of documents for you to use in your marriage application? So your new husband wouldn't know you'd been a prostitute. So he wouldn't know how many times you'd contracted venereal disease. Or how many times you'd had abortions. Or how many times you'd been arrested for petty thievery." The craggy lines of Herbalist So's face set into hard ridges. "Don't tell me that we've done
nothing
for you!"

Slicky Girl Nam realized she'd gone too far. She lowered her face toward the floor. After a few moments, she spoke in a softer voice.

"You are correct, Good Herbalist. You have been good to me. Without you, I never would have found a husband. No Korean man would take me. But Americans are more easily fooled."

When Herbalist So didn't answer, Slicky Girl Nam knew that he'd been mollified by her groveling attitude. Still, she'd made her point. The slicky boy operation owed her for her years of hard work. Now was the time to ask for what she was due.

"I want to kill my husband," she said.

Herbalist So placed his large hands on his knees, rose from the bench, and strolled over to his simmering pots. He puttered with them for a moment, adding twigs to the fires, checking the tightness of the cheesecloth coverings. When he was finished, he returned to the bench. Slicky Girl Nam still knelt on the floor, her head bowed.

"It is always uncomfortable," Herbalist So said, "to kill an American. After all, we rely on them to provide us with the goods that are the lifeblood of our operation. A certain percentage of supplies and equipment pilfered is something they can tolerate. But to murder one of their own, this is something we always try to avoid."

Slicky Girl Nam looked up. "But you've allowed it before."

Herbalist So's face froze. He didn't answer. The exotic brews in his pots bubbled and occasionally boiled over. Flame sizzled.

"All you would have to do," Slicky Girl Nam continued, "is to find him for me. And when you capture my husband, I will be the one who kills him." She raised her gnarled fists into the wavering light. "With
these
hands!"

Herbalist So breathed out very slowly. "There is the matter of expense," he said.

Slicky Girl Nam lowered her head once again. "I cannot pay. My husband holds all the money. I have nothing."

"Of course," Herbalist So said. "You are but a helpless woman. Totally under the control of a strong husband."

There was mockery in his voice. They both knew that Slicky Girl Nam was only trying to drive a hard bargain.

Slicky Girl Nam knew what price she had to pay. It was huge, but what choice did she have? The jade skull must have tremendous value or all these men wouldn't be fighting for it so desperately. But for the moment—and maybe for the first time in her life—Slicky Girl Nam couldn't think of money. All she could think of was the tortured body of her adopted daughter, Mi-ja.

When Slicky Girl Nam finally spoke, she spoke very softly. "My husband has stolen an antique. It is very old and very valuable. For some reason, Buddhists from as far away as Mongolia are after it."

Herbalist So raised his bushy eyebrows. "What type of antique?"

"It is a jade skull."

One of the pots boiled over. Herbalist So rushed to the stone stove and snagged burning twigs. The flames lowered. He quickly returned to the wooden bench.

"The skull is yours," Slicky Girl Nam said, "as a gift, if you help me find my GI husband."

Framed by the ghostly shadows, a smile crossed Herbalist So's lips. He clamped his hands on his knees.

"So it will be," he said.

Slicky Girl Nam lowered her head three more times to the floor and backed out of the chamber.

32

PANTING AND SWEARING, WE DRAGGED HERMAN UP TO THE roof of the 7 Club. All the way, he kept swiveling his head, searching for the slicky boys, convinced they were about to pounce.

Actually, he was safe with us. I knew Herbalist So, the King of the Slicky Boys, and I also knew that So wouldn't get rough with Eighth Army CID agents except as a last resort. The slicky boys were patient enough to wait until they found Herman alone.

Why were they after him? That seemed clear. Slicky Girl Nam, one of their own, had decided to take her revenge on her husband, Herman the German, for the death of her adopted daughter, Mi-ja.

The rain was coming down hard now but the red tile roof of the fake pagoda atop the 7 Club protected us from its fury. We sat Herman down on a bench. I snatched the leather bag from his grasp and propped it in a corner.

Herman looked up at us, confused as to why we were so angry. Ernie didn't say anything and before I could stop him, he crashed a right cross into Herman's face.

Herman cried out. Blood spurted from above his eye. Ernie punched him again.

"You son of a bitch! Your own daughter! I oughta
kill
you!"

I grabbed Ernie, held him. Herman didn't try to fight back, he just reached for his eye.

"Easy, Ernie. Easy."

Ernie stared glassily at Herman. I'd seen him like this before. Ernie was about to go berserk. Only one way to stop it.

'Take deep breaths," I told him. "With your nose. Concentrate on loosening the muscles of your neck. Let them relax. That's it. Now your arms. Okay, better." I slapped him on the cheek and peered into his eyes. 'You okay now?"

Ernie spoke through gritted teeth. "Get that guy talking and get him talking quick."

I turned back to Herman. "You heard the man. Spill it, Herman. Everything."

"Fuck you guys."

Ernie exploded. He punched Herman and punched him again. I'd stop him for a second but then he'd wriggle free and lay another roundhouse on Herman's skull. Through it all Herman remained sitting, only occasionally covering his head. A reflex action. Other than that, he made no attempt to defend himself.

Finally, his knuckles raw, Ernie stopped punching and started reading Herman off. "You let them cut off your own daughter's ear! Then her finger. Kept her away from her mother for days. And then you let them stuff straw down her throat. Can you imagine dying like that? You're a dog, Herman. A fucking
dogl"

Ernie's shouts became hoarse. The monsoon rain poured down. Nobody downstairs could hear us, no one down in the street, no one in the buildings surrounding us.

When it seemed that Ernie's explosion was over, I spoke again to Herman.

"You ready now, First Sergeant, Retired? You ready to tell us what the fuck really happened?"

Slowly, Herman nodded his head. Droplets of blood splattered to the wet cement floor. "I'm ready," he said.

"And don't leave anything out," Ernie growled.

"I didn't know what the jade antique was at first. Something valuable, sure. Lady Ahn told me that. But I didn't know
how
valuable. Not until Ragyapa found me."

"How did he find you?"

"I don't know. Probably just asking the antique dealers in Seoul. They must've given him the word that Lady Ahn was planning on working with me. That's when he approached me."

Herman wiped a clot of blood from his eyebrow. "Ragyapa flew to Korea all the way from Hong Kong. He used to live in Mongolia, but not anymore. Because of the Commies."

Herman's eyes flashed up briefly. I wondered if he wanted approval for his grasp of international affairs. When he saw our faces, his lids drooped once again.

"Ragyapa told me that the jade was a carving of a head and it was owned by some old dude. Koobel Can or something like that."

"Kublai Khan," I said.

"Yeah. And it had been lost for centuries until some monks found it, and now Lady Ahn was going to swipe it from them,"

Apparently, Herman didn't realize that the main value of the jade skull was that it was carved with a map of the whereabouts of the Tomb of Genghis Khan. I wasn't going to educate him. Instead, I asked a question. "Why didn't Ragyapa steal the jade skull from the monks himself?"

"He said it was protected by some mean mothers. Lady Ahn had an in, she was related to one of the monks or something."

"So it would be easier to wait until she stole the skull and then turned it over to you?"

"Right. We'd take it from her and split the profit. My end was going to be five thousand dollars."

Herman waited for us to whisde. Neither one of us did. He sighed.

"So I said, okay. Why not? But the problem was that Ragyapa didn't think Lady Ahn was going to be able to pull off the theft by herself. She needed help. If some Koreans helped her, it wouldn't take them long to realize how valuable the skull was. They'd rip her off before we had a chance." He glanced up at us again. "That's where you two guys came in."

"Why us?"

Herman shrugged. "You speak the language. You're good investigators. And you're honest."

I didn't thank him for the compliments. We'd screwed this case up so badly that I didn't think compliments were in order. Especially from Herman.

"But you needed a reason for us to help her," I prodded.

"Right. Ragyapa came up with it. Pretend that Mi-ja had been kidnapped."

Ernie couldn't stand it any longer. His fists clenched. "So you turned your little girl over to a criminal?"

Herman pleaded with his moist eyes. "He was
working
with me."

"And what about the ear, you dickhead?"

Ernie was becoming angry again. I patted him on the shoulder and leaned him back up against the railing of the pagoda.

"The ear was Ragyapa's idea," Herman answered. "I didn't like it, but he said it would really get you guys motivated to find the skull and free Mi-ja."

"That it did," I said. "Did Ragyapa do the cutting?"

"No way," Herman said. "He's a Buddhist."

"So who did?"

"I did it. The razor was real sharp. She didn't feel much."

Like an enraged jaguar, Ernie leapt across the pagoda. He smashed Herman upside the head, knocked him off the bench, and started kicking. Herman yelped and curled into a fetal ball. Ernie kicked the toe of his shoe into Herman's spine about three times before I could react. Using all my strength, I pulled Ernie off.

After I got them both calmed down, I sat Herman back up on the bench.

"Sorry for the interruption, Herman." I glanced back at Ernie. "It won't happen again."

Ernie leaned on the railing of the open-air pagoda, glaring at Herman, breathing hard.

Herman's peeved eyes glanced at him a couple of times and then turned back to me.

"I had to do it," Herman said. "It was the only way I was ever going to earn that kind of money. I did it for Mi-ja."

I let that one sit for a while. When Ernie didn't jump, I asked, "How so?"

"I was going to put the whole five grand in a certificate of deposit. For her college education." When he saw we weren't buying it, he kept talking. "They have fake ears nowadays. I've seen 'em at the One-two-one Evac. Or when she got older she could just wear her hair long. But how else was she going to get an education? My retirement check is three hundred bucks a month. I clear maybe four or five hundred more on the black market. Me and Nam were never going to come up with the kind of dough she'd need for college."

The rain kept falling.

"What about the finger, Herman?"

He let his head hang. "That hurt her more." A tiny serpent of drool slipped from his lips. "But it was only a little finger. She'd still be able to write and all that."

"Just get on with the fucking story," Ernie snarled. "Just get on with it."

Herman looked at me. I nodded.

"So you guys fell for it. And you went after Lady Ahn just like we hoped. And you helped her steal the jade skull. And when you returned back to Seoul you called me and told me you had it. I let Ragyapa know."

Now it was my turn to explode. I gripped the railing of the pagoda tightly, until the tendons in my arms felt as if they were going to snap. I relaxed, took a deep breath, and spoke as calmly as I could.

"And with that knowledge, Ragyapa attacked Lady Ahn in the
yoguan?"

"Yeah. The son of a bitch double-crossed me. We were supposed to go up there together. Instead, the fire in the
yoguan
starts and I'm still waiting on a street corner with my thumb up my ass. He and his boys went alone. If she'd had the skull, Ragyapa would've kept it for himself."

"So when I told you the jade skull was locked in a safe place ..."

"I figured you meant the CID safe and there was no choice but to grab it."

"What about Mi-ja?" Ernie snarled. "When you took off with the jade, you weren't thinking about her
education
then, were you?"

"That was a mistake," Herman said. "I guess the money got to me. But I didn't think Ragyapa would kill her. I mean, he's a Buddhist, you know. They're not supposed to kill anybody."

"Neither are Christians."

Herman stared at me blankly, not quite able to compute that one.

"How'd you find out that Mi-ja was murdered?" I asked.

"The lifers at the MAC terminal at Osan. That's all anyone was talking about."

"But you boarded that flight to the States anyway."

"I wasn't thinking clearly."

"You just wanted to make your getaway with the skull. And now you realize that's not possible."

"No. It's not."

"I'm glad you finally realize all this shit, Herman." I paced in a circle around the pagoda. "Once you make a full confession, you'll feel better. Probably won't even be slapped with much time in the monkey house. Koreans are lenient with foreigners. Especially former military."

"I'm not turning myself in."

Ernie bristled. "The
hell
you're not."

"I want to be there when you exchange the skull for Lady Ahn. I want to talk to Ragyapa one more time. About how he double-crossed me. About what he did to Mi-ja."

"Afraid that's not possible, Herman," I said. "You'll be in custody. Ernie and I will take the jade skull and make the exchange with Ragyapa for Lady Ahn."

"Not without me, you won't."

"Shit," Ernie said. "How the hell you going to stop us? We got the skull. We're going to kick your fat ass into jail. What the hell you going to do about it?"

Ernie snatched up Herman's leather bag and unzipped it. His eyes widened as he reached in and pulled out the heavy sphere inside.

It wasn't the jade skull of Kublai Khan. It was a patchwork of black and white pentagons. A soccer ball. Cut open.

I grabbed it and turned it upside down. Rocks clattered to the cement slab.

'You don't think I'd carry anything around as valuable as the skull, do you?" Herman asked. "I have it hidden in a safe place. So we got a deal? We go after Ragyapa and his Mongols together?"

Ernie's teeth sounded like iron spikes grinding on stone. I steadied him with the back of my hand.

We had no choice. Beating Herman wouldn't do any good. He'd proven he was impervious to pain. Cooperating with Herman the German, the only man in the world who knew the whereabouts of the jade skull of Kublai Khan, was the only way we were going to save Lady Ahn.

Even Ernie realized it. The grinding of his teeth slowly subsided.

I spoke first. "All right, Herman," I said. "We have a deal."

"Only one more thing," Herman answered. "You both stay near me, to protect me from the slicky boys. And you definitely don't tell Slicky Girl Nam where I am. After what happened to Mi-ja, she'll be out looking for me. With a knife. To cut my balls off."

"If she don't," Ernie promised, "I will."