“And he’ll be laughing his ass off, living up in the mountains of Nepal,” said Condley. “Or maybe Uzbekistan. I’ve heard it’s no problem getting a visa to go there.”

“You don’t really need a visa to get into Uzbekistan. It’s a pretty porous border, mostly with people trying to get out.”

“Hey, he got the joke.”

Archer hesitated, then said it anyway. “We could arrange for the Thai police to arrest you, you know. Just take you out of the marketplace for a few days.”

Condley measured Archer’s nervous eyes and the way he was squeezing and relaxing his hands, and he finally understood the CIA agent’s reluctance to help. “You do that and I’ll have to tell the press all about this little classified briefing and how the American government has been sitting on its ass while certain of its friends have grown rich on heroin payoffs.”

“That could get you killed.” Archer thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. “But then again, if you do something stupid tonight, that will get you killed too. So either way I’ve done my duty.” He waved perfunctorily and turned away. “Don’t say you weren’t warned, Condley.”

Condley called to him as Archer neared the doorway. “Worried about your career, are you?”

No answer. Archer’s leather heels clicked more and more faintly as he walked along the lobby, heading for the hotel’s front door.

“So, you win on the leather heels,” smiled Muir. “Florsheims. What an ear you have, Brandon.”

“I used to own a pair. A very characteristic sound.”

“I guess that means I buy the Singha at the Cezanne tonight?”

“Nice try, Professor,” said Condley. “Frog will have to wait. Tonight we go to Klong Toey.”

“I knew that, actually.” And then Muir’s eyes went horrifically wide. “Brandon, it isn’t the war.”

“What do you mean?”

“You finding Deville,” said Muir.

“Yeah, it is.”

“No, listen to me. Why are the Vietnamese so nervous about what you’re doing? You heard what Archer said. Some very powerful people in all three of these countries have been involved. So it isn’t the war, not to them. Somebody in the Vietnamese government knows about this. And they’re protecting the people who are running drugs with Deville.”

Condley grunted, unimpressed. “It may be drugs to them, but it’s the war to me.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Van was not in the room when he returned. Somehow it did not surprise him. He walked quickly through it onto the terrace, trying at first to convince himself that she might have gone swimming. The pool in the courtyard just below their window was filled with lazing tourists, but she was not among them. Back inside the room, he noticed that none of her clothes were laying out near the still-unmade bed, where they had been when he went down for breakfast with Hanson Muir.