Page 92 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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‘Yes. There was no problem with my passport, social security, anything.

There was even a job for me. I am a translator at the UN. I speak several
Chinese dialects; German, quite good Russian, and French.’
‘Your mother must have been an amazing lady.’ Chi-Chi had come through
with a tray loaded with cups and a large thermos of coffee.
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‘Oh, she was. She taught me well.’
‘The jobs you were asked to do . . . ?’ Bond began.
‘There haven’t been all that many. I carry a great sadness about my family,
but I live comfortably, my work is interesting. I’m modestly happy.’

‘The jobs?’ he prompted.
‘Delivering messages. Picking up letters and forwarding them to various
people, both here and abroad. This is only the third time I’ve had to let people
stay here.’
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‘Chinese people?’
‘The first time – oh, six years ago – there were two Caucasians, foreigners
who did not speak English well and a Chinese – a young man who was very
kind. He comes back to see me quite regularly. He’s a good man. Then, last

year, there were two Chinese, a man and a woman. They stayed for six days.
There were telephone calls and, finally, a rough-looking Chinese came and
took them away.’
‘This Chinese? The one who comes back to see you. Does he ever give you

instructions?’
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‘No. No, never. We have a kind of . . . well . . .’
‘You sleep with him,’ Chi-Chi said harshly.
‘Yes. Yes, I sleep with him from time to time.’

‘Can I make a guess at something?’ Bond took a proffered cup of strong
black coffee.
‘What?’
‘I would guess that the young officer your parents saved – the one who had

you brought to America – is called Hung Chow H’ang. Right?’
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Myra gave a little gasp, ‘Yes. How did you . . . ?’
‘One of the injuries he suffered when your mother nursed him was to an eye,
right?’

‘Why, yes. He wears a patch over his left eye.’
‘Has he ever visited you here?’
The hesitation was too long. ‘He has?’ Bond nudged her and she gave a

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