Chapter Twenty
After I had breakfasted next morning I lit a cigarette and went over the auction catalogue, page by page. I could find nothing, which might conceal a cryptic message; no underlined letters that could have been the basis of a code. It was just like any other auction listing.
I skimmed through the lots. Furniture, Porcelain, bronze, Gold jewels, Jade carvings and other exotic artefacts calculated to make the collectors fingers itch. If I were an art collector I would have been in heaven - if I were a collector. I wasn't; but I had a hunch that I could display the catalogue where the Chinese dragon on the cover would not go unseen.
As Mrs Kim was clearing away the breakfast things she said, in an innocent tone intended to conceal her undying curiosity. 'Was that lady who was here last night the one who phoned in the morning, Mr Moon?'
'You should keep up with the times, Mrs Kim. Men use perfume these days'. Then I did a quick double-take. 'Did she leave her name?'
Mrs Kim came down from the heights of indignation reluctantly. 'All she said was, were you in? When I said, no you wasn't, she hung up quick'. Mrs Kim smiled innocently. 'Could it have been a woman policeman, do you suppose, sir?'
I said yes, it was the one who was teaching me Judo. We decided to call it a draw; and I went into the mews, got my car out of the garage, and drove to World Cup Buk-ro 48-gil.After parking my car I walked quickly to The Golden Sun tea shop.
Time might almost have stood still since I'd been there last. The sole customer, at the same table she'd occupied previously, in the green dress she'd worn the day before, was Kong So-ra. The one difference was that, instead of the string-haired girl, a man now stood behind the counter. He was short and thick-set, with black hair growing low on his forehead. His eyes were deep-set under bushy eyebrows. His heavy jowl was already showing 'five o'clock shadow'.
As I came in Kong So-ra called across to him: 'My bill, please, Jaw-long'.
I went over to her table, and stood with my hand hesitating on the back of a chair. 'Good morning, Miss Kong'.
She glanced guardedly up at me. 'Oh, good morning', she drawled, assuming what, for her, was a friendly smile. 'Won't you sit down?'
As I pulled out the chair Jaw-long lumbered over from the bar. 'Nice weather again today, Miss Kong', he said, with a heavy Chinese accent. Although I didn't look up at him I knew from the direction of his voice that he was scrutinising me. He was pawing up the money for the bill with a hairy hand when I looked up at him.
'A green tea please', I said, suddenly catching his gaze. 'Won't you join me, Miss Kong?'
'I'm just going', she said, snapping her handbag shut. 'But thanks all the same'.
After another speculative glance at me Jaw-long moved back to the counter.
'Su-mi not coming in today?' I said, turning to Kong.
'I'm afraid not. We're frantically busy'. She pulled on a glove. 'And to crown everything, the police have been to the shop again this morning'.
I clicked my tongue sympathetically.
'I've read murder cases, police investigations, and people being questioned', she went on. 'But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would be anything like this!' She gave an expressive shrug. 'That Inspector person is like a terrier. I'm sure he'd use any sort of torture if he could get the right answers. As though I'd know whether Doyle had any appointments with a man called Choi Jong-hoon!'
I scratched my chin. 'Was that the name? I thought it was Bae Yeon-seok'.
'Oh, Bae - was that it?' She looked at me blankly for a moment. 'The name doesn't mean a thing to me. And why should it? I'd never heard of Doyle until I saw his name in the paper; so how on earth am I supposed to know he had an appointment with .'
'Bae', I suggested quietly.
'Oh, I couldn't care less what his name is'. She rose. 'I really must go now'.I stood up. 'By the way, Miss Kong - you didn't phone my yesterday morning, by any chance?'
'What an extraordinary question', she drawled, eyeing me almost insolently. 'I scarcely know you'.
'Nor I you', I said with a smile. 'Whoever it was didn't leave a name. My cleaner took the call, but she didn't recognise the voice . I happen to have a rather keen ear for voices, Miss Kong', I added, looking at her steadily, and mentally recalling the first time I'd listened to her penetrating voice on the telephone in Su-mi's flat. 'Yes, I've a very good memory for voices'.
She held my gaze for a second or two, without answering. Then, with a hard little smile, she said: 'I mustn't keep Su-mi waiting, Mr Moon'. She exchanged a glance with Jaw-long, then sauntered out of the tea shop.
I sat down and cautiously looked across at the man behind the counter. He had drawn my tea from the urn and was about to bring it over to me. I took the auction catalogue from my pocket, opened it, and turned the pages slowly, as though absorbed in the selection of antiques for my collection.
As he placed the tea in front of me I held the catalogue so that the brightly coloured cover was directly under his eyes.
'Thanks', I said, acknowledging the tea with an upward glance.
His eyes flickered from the catalogue to my face; then a hairy hand rose to his jowl, fingering it thoughtfully.
'Are you interested in antiques, Jaw-long?' I asked.
His hand continued to stroke his jowl. 'When did you arrive?'
'You haven't answered my question', I said coolly.
He gave me another long, speculative look, then nodded, more to himself than to me, and returned to the bar. He peered beneath the counter, took something out, returned without a word, and slid it on to the table in front of me. It was an auction catalogue exactly like Doyle's .
A stubby finger reached across and pointed at a sticker on the cover. 'This is a new one', Jaw-long said heavily. 'It's up to date'.
My eyes focused on the sticker. Chinese Fine Art Auctions, it read. Seoul Agents: No Jung-jong.