Chapter Nine
It was just after eight when I awoke next morning. I could hear Mrs Kim Jeong- hee, my cleaner, rattling cups in the kitchen. An aroma of green tea drifted in as I reached for a cigarette from the case on the bedside table. I had a lot of mental sorting-out to do and I've a habit of doing most of my constructive thinking in bed.
A report of the murder should be in the morning paper and I decided to see whether there were any fresh developments. As I was about to call to Mrs Kim to bring the newspaper and tea to me in bed, the front door bell rang.
Mrs Kim bustled past, slightly breathless as usual. Then she was back, knocking on my door. 'A gentleman to see you, sir'.
Usually I'm 'Mr Moon' to her, unless she wants to impress my visitors. Latterly, these had been creditors connected with my defunct business; only my name on a cheque would have impressed them.
Cursing, I groped for my slippers and dragged on my blue dressing-gown, pausing only to comb my hair and slip the cigarette case into my pocket.
Mrs Kim Jeong-hee was lurking outside my door, a look of concern on her usually cheerful face. 'It's a plain-clothes man', she hissed. 'I can smell 'em!'
This was it. Thrusting my hands in my dressing-gown pockets I strolled casually into the living room.A tall man, with neatly brushing hair greying at the sides, wearing a dark suit and grey tie, watched my entrance with a slightly quizzical look, plainly alert for anything that might be construed as suspicious.
'Mr Moon?' he began affably. 'My name's Lee - Detective-Inspector Lee Shi-hoo'.
I frowned perplexedly. 'What's the trouble, Inspector? Another complaint about my parking in front of my next door neighbour's garage?'
'Nothing as heinous as that, sir', he said, with a policeman's heavy humour. 'It's about a lady I believe you know, Mr Moon. A Miss Kim Su-mi'.
'Yes, she's a friend of mine'. I looked startled. 'Nothing's happened to her, has it? An accident?'
He shook his head. 'I'd just like to ask you a few questions about her'. His grey eyes had been casually roaming the room; suddenly they came up to mine. 'You had an appointment with her yesterday evening?' It was more of a statement than a question.
'That's right', I said in a puzzled manner. 'At seven-thirty, at her flat. Unfortunately I was unable to keep the appointment. I was held up at Daegu'.
'I see', he said in a non-committal tone. 'Then you weren't at Seoul Tower at any time yesterday evening?'
'I've already told you that, Inspector', I replied irritably.
'You've told me you weren't there at seven-thirty', he corrected.
'Let's get this clear, Inspector. So far as I know, I've never been within half a mile of - whatever the mansions are called'. His smooth smile provoked me into asking: 'Why this third degree stuff?'
He didn't like that at all. For an instant it got him on the wrong foot. 'I'm sorry you take it that way, sir'. He fidgeted with his stiff-brimmed, dark grey hat. 'This is purely routine questioning'. Then his tone sharpened. 'A man was murdered last night - in Miss Kim's flat'.
I did my best to look startled again, then asked: 'Have you found the murderer?'
'No'. He paused. 'I understand you knew the murdered man'.
'I did!'
'His name's Doyle'.
'Doyle . Doyle', I said, frowning. Then I snapped my fingers. 'Of course!
He was the man I met with Miss Kim in Shanghai. Although I can scarcely say I knew him - I only saw him once'.
'Miss Kim told me about the incident'. He smiled obliquely as though he'd very nearly trapped me. 'Would you say Miss Kim was on friendly terms with him?'
I shrugged. 'No more than the casual friendship of people who meet each other abroad on holiday'.
He watched his finger run round the braided brim of his hat. 'And you were all meeting again in her flat last night to talk over your holiday in Shanghai?'I fished out my cigarette case to gain time while I tried to avoid the barb in the question. 'She didn't tell me Doyle was coming', I said, offering him my case. 'As a matter of fact, I thought he'd gone back to America. I was invited to meet her fiance'.
'That's what she said'. He took a cigarette from my case. 'Miss Kim's a very attractive woman, wouldn't you say, Mr Moon?'
I smiled, remembering I'm's motive-theory. 'Drink is my weakness', I said.
As I snapped my lighter to his cigarette Lee glanced up at me. 'Does Miss Kim's fiance know that you are an eligible young bachelor?'
'As it happens', I said tartly, 'I wouldn't have met Miss Kim's fiance. It seems he was taken ill yesterday evening'. I smiled tauntingly. 'Tell me if I'm wrong, Inspector, but I think you were in her flat when she told me'.
'Quite right. I was', he said imperturbably, glancing at his watch. 'Thanks for your help, Mr Moon. Don't bother to come to the front door'. He made a gesture of good-bye with his hat as he went out of the living room, then he turned back to me. 'We checked on the asthma attack. Miss Kim was with her fiance from six-thirty to well after seven. We like to confirm alibis, Mr Moon'.
When he's gone Mrs Kim came in with a tray of tea and fruit. 'Was it about your car, Mr Moon?' she asked innocently. 'That man next door was swearing something dreadful yesterday when it was parked outside his garage door'.
'Odd you should think that, Mrs Kim', I said, grinning at her. 'They were almost the exact words I used when I saw the detective'.
Producing a newspaper from under the tray she placed it on the table. 'There's been another murder in Gangnam, Mr Moon', she said, unnecessarily rearranging the contents of the tray.
'So the detective was telling me', I said.
She seemed to get the implication, and bustled out indignantly.
I poured myself a tea, lit a cigarette, and picked up the paper. It was conveniently folded to display the Stop Press. I skimmed it quickly. It merely said that a man had been found in a Gangnam luxury apartment, and that the tenant, Miss Kim Su-mi, was helping the police in their inquiries.
I put the paper down and went back over my talk with Lee. One thing stuck out a mile - Kim Su-mi hadn't withheld anything from him. That confirmed my views on her. She knew no more about Doyle's murder than I did.
But what was the American doing in her apartment? And how did he get in? I was pouring myself another cup of tea when I recollected something that Lee had said. 'You were all meeting again in her apartment last night to talk over your holiday in Shanghai?' Tea was pouring over the top of the cup into the saucer before I realised what I was doing. With a muttered 'Damn' I replaced the pot on the table, got up, and crossed over to the telephone and dialled .I listened to the engaged signal for half a minute, then replaced the receiver and came back to the table. I lit another cigarette from the stub of the last, dropped that into the tea-filled saucer, and tossed the inference of Lee's words around in my mind. Was that the excuse Kim Su-mi had used to get Doyle round to her apartment? To meet me and talk over our holiday? But why? To murder him? I saw again the body and the battered head, with the heavy, blood-stained glass ashtray beside it. It simply did not add up. Doyle was a powerful man; a blow from one of his heavy fists would have knocked out any woman senseless. Besides, I had seen Kim Su-mi when she came into the apartment. There was nothing in her appearance to suggest she'd been in a fight. But someone must have let Doyle into the apartment. And whoever did so was the person who slipped the key under the door to me. Circumstantially, the person was the murderer; but not necessarily.
A dozen conjectures later I gave up. I was in the bath when it suddenly occurred to me that Lee hadn't urged me to disclose where I'd been the previous evening. It would have been awkward if he'd pressed me to detail my movements. Why hadn't he done so, I wondered? I had an uncomfortable feeling that he suspected I'd kept the appointment with Kim Su-mi, and was just keeping me on the end of a line until he was ready to haul me in like a floundering fish.
When I was dressed I tried again to contact Miss Kim. At ten o'clock, after a third abortive attempt, I decided that an engaged line meant she was in her apartmentt, and that I'd go round there.
I called to Mrs Kim that I was leaving, then went down to the mews and got my car out of the garage under my apartment. From behind my living room curtain a face watched me go. I flicked a derisive hand towards the garage next door. Mrs Kim knew damn well I never parked my car outside it.