Chapter twenty-eight
Waiting for my visitor, I tried to review the latest developments. I had just returned from the hospital where Choi Ji-hye was making a steady recovery. Unfortunately, it had been difficult to get her to talk. I had imagined she might have been able to enlighten me as to Si’s importance in the scheme of things, but she insisted that she only knew of him by name, and was unacquainted with his activities.
She had, however, proved rather more helpful on the question of Dr Lee, though she claimed that he had been dragged into the affair and was not nearly as sinister as might at first appear. I told her that Lee had confessed to his full share in the recent happenings, but had maintained that he was ignorant of the identity of the man from whom he took his instructions. He tried to give the impression that it had been one of the mysterious Cubans, but I had told him quite frankly I did not believe him.
Choi Ji-hye had proved equally obstinate, and it is not easy to extract information from a woman who is only recently off the danger list. Once or twice I noticed the nurse giving me a warning look, but I had to go on. And in the end Choi Ji-hye had told me what I wanted to know.
Feeling a reaction to this experience, I had poured myself a stiff whisky, and was just finishing it when the doorbell rang. My visitor had arrived.
It was Choi Kyung-lee, shabby and diffident as always.
‘Come along in, Mr Choi’, I said hospitably. ‘It was nice of you to call’.
I took his threadbare raincoat and hung it on a peg in the hall. We went into the living room together.
‘How’s your wife?’ I said. ‘What’s the latest news?’ though of course, I knew the answer.
Choi, apparently more relaxed than I had ever seen him, sat down. ‘She’s off the danger list now’, he said. ‘They say she should be up and about in four or five weeks’. He produced a tired smile. ‘I must say, I shall be very relieved when she comes home; a daily woman is a poor substiute’.
‘I’m delighted to hear that she’s better’, I said. I sat down opposite Choi. ‘I expect you’re wondering why I asked you to call’.
‘Well, I was a little puzzled, I must confess’, he said.
I settled myself more comfortably in my chair. ‘I want to tell you a story, Mr Choi, that I feel sure will interest you: it concerns the Battle of Inchon’. I was watching him carefully, but he registered only polite wonderment. ‘It’s not a very pretty story’, I went on, but I think you’ll be intrigued by it’.
Choi looked at his watch. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t a great deal of time’, he said apologetically. ‘You’ve time enough for this’, I said. ‘It also concerns a man called Park Song-yong who is a friend of mine’.
‘Park Song-yong?’ mused Choi. ‘I seem to have heard that name before’.
‘You have indeed’, I said. ‘You used the Battle of Inchon as a stepping-stone to get to know Park and to gain his confidence. He told you that he had inherited some military memorabilia including a photo from the Battle of Inchon. You were interested and he showed them to you’. I picked up the photo of the tank and its crew from the table. ‘This was one of them’.
‘I think there must be some mistake’, said Choi in tones of mild reproof. ‘The first time I saw this photo was when you brought it to the cottage’ – his smile was a study in confused innocence – ‘and I certainly don’t know this friend of yours – what’s his name again?’
‘Park Song-yong’.
Choi shook his head regretfully. He conveyed the impression that he was only too anxious to help. ‘I’m afraid that’s just a name to me, Mr Moon I don’t know him’.
‘I think you do’, I persisted quietly. ‘You see, I have this story on the very best authority’
‘Whose authority?’
‘Your brother-in-law, Dr Lee’, I said deliberately. ‘Seung-li’s father’.
I noticed that his eyes were no longer blinking short sightedly, but were cold and watchful. Choi said quietly: ‘go on, Mr Moon. I’m beginning to find this quite interesting’.
‘You’ll find it even more interesting in a minute’, I said. ‘When you got to know Park better, and discovered that he was in financial difficulties, you offered him money to obtain a copy of the technical design and plans of top secret drone that was under development’.
I waited for him to make some comment but he only shook his head.
‘These plans’, I went on, ‘were developed by an acquaintance of Park’s, a man called Hong Jin-ho. Park took the money and did what you wanted. But he didn’t play it straight, Mr Choi. He double-crossed you and gave you a mico-SD card containing false information’.
‘This is all very interesting, Mr Moon’, said Choi. His voice was imperturbable, but his eyes were not still for a second.
‘I’m glad you think so’, I said. ‘It gets even more intriguing’.
Choi inclined his head slightly and waited for me to continue.
‘Park then contacted a North Korean organisation and arranged to meet their Cuban representative, a man called Arsenio, at Sinjang-ri. You heard about this and immediately informed them that Park hadn’t got the plans and that you were the man to contact. Arsenio agreed to meet you on Lee’s trawler, which was named the “Seung-li” after his daughter’. I paused to allow this to sink in.
Choi shook his head sadly. ‘I can only assume, Mr Moon’, he said, ‘that the strain of your recent activities has in some way unsettled you’.
‘It’s unsettled me considerably’, I said grimly, ‘and I think what I’m going to say may unsettle you a little too. You know what happened: there was a shipwreck and Arsenio died. Before he died he mentioned the name ‘Seung-li’. We know now, of course, that he was referring to the ship the “Seung-li” and not to Lee’s daughter’.
‘These are very serious charges, Mr Moon’, remarked Choi.
‘They’re intended to be’. I stood with my back to the fireplace, never taking my eyes off Choi for an instant. ‘You kidnapped Park and tried to make him talk, but all you could get out of him was the admission that the microSD card you wanted was in the Battle of Inchon. Then you sent your friend Si Kyung-lee – the late Si, I should say – to get the tobacco tin from Park’s apartment’. I smiled reminiscently. ‘An unpleasant character, Si. I had to kill him’.
Choi looked startled. ‘You admit you killed him?’ he said involuntarily.
‘If I hadn’t’, I said, ‘he would have undoubtedly killed me. We had an argument and he – fell into the sea. I imagine that he’s still there. However, I’m straying from the point a little. When Si arrived at Park’s flat he saw Jo Yun-je leaving with the tin. Si followed Jo back here, murdered him, and took the tobacco tin when I was safely out of the way’.
‘But the film wasn’t in the tin!’ Choi blurted out.
‘No it wasn’t’, I said. ‘But when Park told you it was in the Battle of Inchon he was telling the truth. The film was in the Battle of Inchon, but not in the tobacco tin’.
Choi’s face was blank and expressionless. I looked at him quickly and then picked up the photograph again. I put it face down on the table. Then I removed the backing and there was the SD card.
‘You were so convinced that Park meant the tin’, I said, ‘That it never occurred to you to look in the photograph frame’.
Choi rose to his feet. With a quick movement he thrust his hand into his jacket pocket; when it came out it held a small, foreign-looking automatic revolver. He was breathing quickly and obviously deciding on a plan for a quick getaway.
I said: ‘it may interest you to know, Mr Choi, that we have had an audience’. I jerked my head towards the bedroom door. ‘That gun doesn’t even amuse me’.
The bedroom door then opened to reveal Kim Han-jin; his huge bulk seemed to fill the room with massive invincibility. He held a revolver in his hand.
‘This is the end of the line, Choi’, Kim said in a voice that sounded almost bored. ‘Put that gun away …’