Read The Son Online

Authors: Marc Santailler

Tags: #Fiction - Thriller, #Fiction - War, #Fiction - History

The Son (16 page)

BOOK: The Son
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I sat back. ‘Thanks,' I said again, and stopped to reflect about all this. Hao spoke up.

‘Now we must go to the police,' she said firmly.

Eric looked up anxiously and I held my hand up again.

‘No, wait. I've got a better idea, if Eric feels up to it.'

‘What's that?'

‘I'd like him to go back first, attend that camp up at the farm, and find out what's going on. Then come back and tell us about it. After that we can decide whether to go to the police.'

‘But why wait?' she argued. ‘What do you think you'll learn that way?'

‘I'm not sure. But maybe more about what they plan to do to Loc.'

‘Why should you care so much about this man? Who is he anyway?'

‘He's a deputy premier in the Vietnamese government, and a friend of Quang's. His full name's Dang van Loc.' I told them something of what Quang had told me. ‘It's alright, Eric. There are good and bad communists, just like everything else, and he's one of the good ones. If your friends really want to do something for Vietnam they're picking on the wrong man.'

‘But what you're asking Eric to do is dangerous, Paul! You're asking him to take risks for someone he knows nothing about–'

‘There are no risks. All Eric has to do is act naturally. As he's been doing. Just don't tell them about this discussion. If they ask why you came here today tell them you rang your aunt and she asked you to come because she was upset about the murder. You can even say you met Quang here once, and he questioned you about what you were doing and you didn't like it and didn't tell him anything. All you have to do is go off to your camp, do what they ask you to do, don't ask too many questions but keep your eyes and ears open, and above all sound enthusiastic about what they're doing. Keep on hating the communists for what they did to your father and mother. And when you get back, tell us what happened.'

‘You want me to spy for you.'

‘Not just for me, Eric. There's someone in Canberra I want to talk to about this. Someone I trust. He'll know what to do.' I looked at Hao. ‘He's the man you spoke to when you rang Canberra, remember? Believe me, he's good.' And to Eric: ‘Actually he knew your father too. He'll be even more interested when I tell him about you.'

‘It's not fair, Paul!' Hao burst out. ‘You're playing on Eric's feelings! You have no right to ask him to take risks like that for someone he's never heard of! Eric's just a child–'

‘Eric's nearly twenty, Hao! He's not a child any more. Young men like him have been going to war at eighteen!'

‘Yes, and getting killed! I won't have it, Paul! You have no right to tell him what to do!'

I held up my hands in surrender.

‘You're right. I have no right to tell him or you what to do. But let him decide for himself, Hao. He's old enough to do that. It's up to you, Eric. I'm not forcing you. But if you want to help find out who killed Quang, and maybe prevent something worse, this is the way to do it. Talk it over with your aunt. Call me when you've decided.'

I went into my bedroom and stood staring out the window, wondering if I knew what I was doing, whether I wasn't leading Eric into real danger, as Hao feared. For a moment I was on the point of going back to tell them I'd changed my mind, I agreed with Hao. But then Eric knocked and called me and I went back to the lounge. Hao sat very still with her lips pressed together, and Eric had a worried frown, but when he spoke there was a new firmness to his voice.

‘I'll do it, Paul.'

I looked at Hao.

‘Hao? Is that OK with you?'

‘Don't ask me, Paul! As you say, Eric's a grown man!'

‘Alright. Thanks, Eric. I know you can do it. Just to be safe, you'd better not come back here. If anyone asks, simply say we had an argument and you don't want to see me any more. Instead, when you have something to tell me, ring your aunt, say you want to see her but you don't want to come to the flat. She can meet you somewhere and you can tell her and she can pass it on to me. Hao? Would you mind doing that?'

‘Whatever you say, Paul!' she said. ‘You're the mastermind!'

‘Look, it's not for very long – a couple of times maybe, when you get back from your camp. Meanwhile I'll talk to this man in Canberra and after that we'll have a clearer idea what to do. Then maybe we can go to the police.'

I took Eric through it again, to make sure we both agreed, while his aunt looked on, unhappy but resigned. I left them together then came back as Eric was getting up to leave. I walked with him to the door.

‘Are you OK with all this, Eric?'

‘Yes,' he said. ‘Don't worry. I can do it, Paul.'

‘That's the spirit. Just don't do anything foolish, alright? Act natural. You'll be fine.'

What I used to tell my sources, when they had doubts. I'd never lost one as a result. There was always a first time.

By comparison the police visit was almost a relief. It came in the late afternoon, in the shape of Detective-Sergeant Emerson, from Bankstown police station. He was a polite, careful man in his late thirties in a neat brown suit, who didn't miss very much. By then I'd had a chance to catch up on the news, and rung Vivien in the office to tell her we wouldn't be coming in. Hao had retreated into her bedroom after Eric left but she came out to meet him and he questioned us in the sitting room, the two of us facing him, an arm's length apart on the settee.

‘What happened to your face, Mr Quinn?' he asked curiously. ‘You look as if you've been in a fight.'

I gave him a sheepish smile. ‘Just a scrap. I tried to stop a couple of idiots from breaking into my car and they turned on me.'

‘Did you report it to the police?'

‘No. I managed to fight them off and they didn't take anything. It hardly seemed worth the trouble. All I got was a few bruises.'

‘You should have, you know,' he said sternly. ‘Incidents like that should always be reported! You look as if you got a good working over.'

‘Well, I landed a few punches myself.'

He eyed me suspiciously, then turned to Hao.

‘You're staying here, are you Mrs Tran?'

‘She's a houseguest,' I said quickly. She nodded and blushed faintly. ‘She's visiting from Britain. Mrs Tran and I are old friends, we knew each other in Saigon, a long time ago.'

‘Oh, you were in the army then.'

‘No, I worked in the embassy, just before the end of the war. In 1975. That's when we met.'

He explained that he was making inquiries into the murder of Le Minh Quang, and asked if we knew him. It was the first time I'd heard Quang's full name. When I asked how he knew that, he said that my name had been among Quang's papers. I nodded wisely, as if that explained everything. He seemed satisfied with our explanation of how we came to know Quang, but then asked if we knew who his other friends were, or if we knew anyone who might have wanted to harm him. I said no, and then he looked at Hao.

‘Mrs Tran?'

She seemed to hesitate briefly before shaking her head, and he gave her a more probing look.

‘Are you sure? Mr Quinn?' He turned to me again.

‘No. I liked him, but I hardly knew him, I don't know who his friends were.'

‘Mrs Tran? You're sure there's nothing you can think of?'

This time she was more positive. ‘No, nothing, Sergeant. I've only been here a few weeks, I don't know the Vietnamese community in Sydney very well, apart from my late husband's relatives, and they had no connection with him.'

‘Thank you. And just for the record, can you tell me where you were yesterday afternoon and evening?'

‘Certainly. We were here. My daughter was up for the weekend visiting from Melbourne. I drove her back to the airport about five and then came straight back.'

‘Anyone else here with you?'

‘Only my son – my adopted son,' Hao cut in firmly before I could speak. ‘He lives in Cabramatta and had come out to see us.'

‘What time did he leave?'

‘I don't know exactly. Paul? It would have been about eight, I think. He stayed for dinner.'

‘Can you give me his details?'

‘Of course.' She gave him Eric's name and address. ‘I doubt if he can help you much, Sergeant. I think he met Mr Quang here once, but otherwise they didn't know each other.' She spoke with a steady clear voice, and he seemed quietly impressed by her manner and ease in English. I guessed the Vietnamese he met in his job weren't so articulate.

‘Thank you. You've been very helpful. Please let me know if you think of anything else that might help us. This is a shocking murder and we want to do everything we can to catch those responsible. And Mr Quinn, next time you get into a scrap like that, please report it at once to the police. We may not be able to catch the culprits straightaway, but at least it helps us with our statistics.'

‘You're right. I'm sorry. If it ever happens again you may be sure I will,' I said. He looked slightly mollified.

It was nearly six when he left. The end of a long and dispiriting day. I went into the kitchen to look into the fridge, though I didn't feel much like eating. Hao was there, standing at the kitchen counter, and I spoke to her back.

‘Thanks for backing me up, with that policeman,' I said. ‘I'm sorry if I was pushing you earlier, when Eric was here. But I really think that's the best way to do it. It's alright, Hao. It'll work out, you'll see.'

‘You like pushing people around, don't you,' she said. ‘You like to have things your own way.'

‘Only when I know I'm right. Sometimes it's the only way to get things done.' She turned, and looked at me steadily. I should have seen the signs. The deep shadows under her eyes, the air of strain – selfishly I'd been more concerned about myself and my little plots than her welfare, but she looked on the edge of exhaustion.

‘Let's not fight, Hao,' I said pleadingly. ‘It's been a bad day, we should be helping each other, not quarrelling.' I made to put my arm around her waist but she pulled away.

‘Don't!' she snapped.

‘I'm sorry!'

‘You think that – that because I crawled into your bed last night you can treat me like some – some kind of bar-girl–'

‘Hao, of course not!'

‘What happened last night–'

‘Nothing happened last night! Don't you remember? You were lonely and miserable and you came to me for comfort! What do you think, that I was going to take advantage of that? What kind of a monster do you think I am? I love you, Hao!'

‘Don't say that!'

‘But it's true! Why, don't you believe me?'

‘You don't know me – you know nothing about me–'

‘So you keep saying. But what you told me last night, didn't that tell me anything?'

‘There are other things – things I haven't told you–'

‘Well tell me now then!'

‘I can't–'

‘Why not? Oh, let me guess. You don't like men, is that it? Well, that's hardly surprising, after what happened to you.'

She shook her head.

‘So what is it? Have you got someone else, is that it? Is there a man, a lover, waiting for you in Leeds?'

She looked down.

‘There – there is someone–'

‘Oh Christ! Now you tell me!' I sat down, suddenly deflated. To think that I'd been so naïve, so self-absorbed as to imagine I was the only one who mattered to her. ‘Who is it? Is it that man, who rang the other day? George?'

‘I – I don't want to talk about it.'

‘No. Of course not! Why should you! It's not as if we had something going between us, is it!' I suddenly felt very bitter.

‘So what are you going to do?' I asked. ‘Go back to him?'

‘I don't know!' she cried. ‘Stop asking me all those questions! I have to go back anyway! My visa's going to run out soon.'

BOOK: The Son
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