Monsoon

by Di Morrissey

  An elderly waiter dressed in a white jacket and black pants passed around glasses of sweet wine and tiny savoury delicacies, and indicated that they should be seated. They settled themselves around the extraordinary room and Carlo glanced at Anna, slightly raising his glass towards her as if to say, ‘See, I’ve made it this time’.

  Hung pointed at the covered items on the table and a large box on the floor. ‘There they are.’ But he made no move to show them and, like the rest of them, waited, sipping the fine French wine.

  There was a slight flurry as a door was opened by the elderly waiter who bowed as a figure emerged. She was dressed in a red silk ao-dai, jewels sparkling. Her hair was swept sleekly up onto her head and her bright red lips stretched in a somewhat smug smile.

  ‘Madame Nguyen!’ exclaimed Anna.

  Carlo gave his broadest smile. Rick stepped forward, took Madame Nguyen’s hand and introduced himself and his companions.

  Sandy also rose out of her seat. ‘How lovely to see you again.’

  Madame Nguyen coolly acknowledged the greetings and took a seat at the table. A glass was set beside her by the obsequious waiter. ‘Thank you all for coming. So, we have business to conduct.’ She waved towards the table. ‘Mr Dale, I believe you are something of the expert. I trust you will appreciate the treasure Hung has assembled for you and Mr Franchetti.’ She gave a brief nod in Carlo’s direction, then turned her head to a crew member by the door who leapt forward and swept off the light gold covering from the table.

  Even Rick had to swallow hard at the display of exquisite ceramics: blue-and-white polychrome, green glazes and a dull grey primitive stoneware. They all got up and circled the table.

  ‘May I?’ asked Rick, wanting to lift a piece to study it more closely.

  Madame Nguyen waved a hand. ‘Certainly. This is a very nice collection, don’t you agree?’

  First Rick lifted a blue-and-white dragon jug, then a lotus bowl. He turned over several of the dishes with their simple but classic pattern. ‘These are not dishes used by farmers. These are made for the tables of nobles. Very high quality. Lovely.’

  Carlo was anxious. ‘So, what do you think, Rick? Do you think these pieces have a market?’

  ‘I do indeed. Collectors are curious people. They can be quite eccentric in the specifics of what they collect. Some want something from the earliest period; others have no interest in plain peasant objects, no matter how old. But these pieces will be in great demand.’

  ‘What’s in the box, Madame Nguyen?’ asked Carlo.

  ‘Plates, platters, bowls. Pieces I believe you could turn over for a good price.’ She indicated the plates. ‘You can quadruple your investment fairly swiftly. A good enough return?’ She raised a thin pencilled eyebrow and Carlo was quick to concur.

  Sandy and Anna sat on the sidelines, watching and listening. Sandy thought perhaps Carlo had pulled off the big one and thanked the heavens that Rick was present. Anna was watching Carlo with love and admiration. He’d really hit the jackpot this time.

  Several pieces were carefully passed around. Sandy and Anna recognised a plate that was similar to the one they’d seen in Madame Nguyen’s shop in The Royal Hotel in Hoi An. There was further discussion. Rick spent time admiring some pieces at great length, fingering the porcelain, turning them over, holding them under a light to see better, wondering who these pieces might have been made for.

  Carlo began to get fidgety. ‘So, Rick. Everything is okay by you? I think we should be moving on. Hung?’ He turned to Hung who had sat quietly in the background letting Madame Nguyen do all the talking.

  ‘When you are ready, Hung will take you back. These items will be carefully packaged and marked in several crates. Naturally, we will not seal the crates, so you can inspect their contents in the morning,’ said Madame Nguyen in a business tone. ‘If everything is to your satisfaction, Mr Franchetti, you will arrange payment this evening by electronic transfer and tomorrow, when everything is confirmed, you will take the merchandise away with you. Hung will bring you back here and you may make a final inspection and take the crates away with you. Is this satisfactory?’

  Carlo stood, anxious to make arrangements for the settlement. ‘Sounds cool to me. Rick?’

  He nodded. ‘Tomorrow you can settle up with me. We’ll leave your antiques at the gardenware factory and continue on to Hanoi. You seem to have your shipment under control.’

  ‘Yep. All’s in order. Next time I see these dishes it will be back in good old Sydney. Thank you again, Madame Nguyen. Pleasure doing business with you.’ Carlo pumped her hand enthusiastically and didn’t appear to notice when she withdrew it with a pained expression.

  Hung ushered them out. ‘It’s dark; be careful getting back into the boat.’

  ‘Hey, don’t drop any of the dishes back in the briny,’ joked Carlo.

  ‘They will be treated like gold and packed very, very carefully. We know how to deliver such items around the world. Don’t worry,’ declared Madame Nguyen, who then disappeared below.

  As they chugged to the mainland Sandy glanced back at the shadowy shape of the big junk, a dark smudge, its oily yellow lamps gleaming over the dark water. She couldn’t wait to tell Jean-Claude what had transpired. She wished she could talk about it to Anna, who sat clutching Carlo’s hand. Both of them looked somewhat starstruck. As if their wildest dreams were about to come true.

  There was a brief meeting in the lobby of the hotel. Each of them was playing it cool and calm.

  ‘So what’s the plan for tomorrow?’ asked Rick.

  Carlo stiffened his shoulders, assuming an air of authority. ‘I will contact my father at once to transfer the money. Depends on Hung when we go back.’

  ‘Early. Everything will be very carefully packed, ready to be collected from Madame Nguyen’s junk.’

  ‘Is she staying in Halong Bay?’ asked Anna.

  ‘No, she will not be staying after she’s concluded her business with you. She has many other things to attend to,’ said Hung. ‘She is returning to Hoi An.’

  ‘Apparently she has a very beautiful home in Hoi An,’ said Sandy. ‘She was building a lot of places. She has diversified interests.’ She gave Hung a questioning look.

  ‘A lot of things are stored in her home at Hoi An, but they are also dispersed throughout the country. And much further,’ said Hung. ‘Madame Nguyen is a clever lady. Very smart. I am lucky to know her.’

  ‘How do you know her?’ asked Sandy.

  ‘Ah, it is a long story. My Uncle Chinh knows her from many years ago. She became very rich after her husband died. Her husband was Uncle Chinh’s relative. Madame Nguyen looks after the family. She did not have children.’ Hung smiled. ‘She is very good to me.’

  Anna smiled and nodded. Family was important in Vietnam and who would you trust more?

  They agreed they’d all do their own thing for dinner. Rick had a friend to look up, Carlo and Anna would find somewhere to eat and Sandy would wait for Jean-Claude.

  ‘Please, Sands, say nothing to Jean-Claude. Carlo is so pissed off he turned up.’

  ‘Everything is working out just fine. What a trip. That Madame Nguyen is something else,’ said Sandy to deflect Anna’s comment about Jean-Claude.

  Sandy stepped into her hotel room to find Jean-Claude relaxing in front of the cable television. He gave her a hug.

  ‘How was it?’

  ‘Amazing.’ She told him every detail.

  ‘So tomorrow morning you go out in the launch, pick up the goods and hit the road. It all sounds too easy.’

  ‘Seems that way. But I still need to smooth things over with Anna. She’s a bit hurt and suspicious I broke my promise not to tell you.’

  ‘Why don’t you call her after supper and break the news we are engaged,’ said Jean-Claude. He took her hand. ‘You know, Sandy, this whole scheme seems too good to be true. I know of Madame Nguyen and she is a shrewd and clever operator.’

  ‘Darling, Rick knows what he’s doing
so I’m sure it will be fine. For once Carlo might have pulled off a real coup.’

  Sandy held the phone receiver away from her ear as Anna’s squeals reverberated down the line after dinner.

  ‘No way! That’s so fantastic! I told you. He adores you. It’s meant to be. Oh, Sands, I’m so happy for you.’

  Sandy was elated at Anna’s reaction to the news of their engagement. Her friend’s annoyance now seemed to be a thing of the past and one day Sandy would confess to her that she had been the one to do the proposing.

  16

  NIGHT WAS STILL CLINGING to the crevices, caves and craggy karsts, the strange limestone formations that rose from Halong Bay. As grey dawn light crept into their hotel room, Sandy reluctantly wiggled out of Jean-Claude’s embrace.

  ‘Ah, Sandy. You are sure you have to be there with them this morning?’

  ‘Anna wants me there. And I admit I’m curious.’ She slipped her diamond ring on her finger. ‘And besides, now I can show the world we’re engaged. The reason you came down here.’ Thinking about it, she added, ‘Maybe you should come along too.’

  He yawned. ‘Perhaps that is a good idea. We’ll both meet them at the wharf. I don’t expect Carlo will be pleased to see me though.’

  The sky was compressed with dark rolling clouds as the group assembled at the wharf and settled themselves in Hung’s launch. Jean-Claude’s arrival had caused some consternation for Carlo, but Anna told him that Jean-Claude had rushed to Halong Bay to propose to Sandy and the two could hardly be expected to be apart now.

  ‘Why couldn’t he have waited till they were back in Hanoi?’ Carlo muttered.

  ‘Jean-Claude thought this might be a romantic place to pop the question,’ said Anna pointedly.

  Carlo ignored her remark. ‘We’re picking up the goods, taking them to the mainland once they’re packed. The money has gone through. Rick has rented another car as the crates won’t fit in just one.’

  In spite of Carlo’s pointed change of subject, Anna was thrilled with the way things had worked out and she couldn’t see any problem in having Jean-Claude join them. Sandy was hanging on to him like crazy. She’d never seen her so openly besotted with a man. Anna smiled to herself. Sandy certainly had never made a commitment to any man before. Jean-Claude was obviously very special to her.

  Boats were still sheltering at their night moorings or remained berthed at the port. Heavy rain looked inevitable as Anna and Sandy sat together in the launch admiring Sandy’s ring. Hung handed out the coloured plastic capes that most Vietnamese wore in the rain. They were big circles, wide enough to wear on a bicycle. He was quiet as he headed the boat across the bay. Rick and Carlo exchanged an occasional comment. Jean-Claude studied the scenery.

  Once out of sight of the mainland they turned towards the place where Madame Nguyen’s junk was moored, in the shelter of two small peaks. By the time they reached the junk it was streaming rain and they were glad to get on board. A crew member took their rain capes and ushered them into a different, smaller stateroom where Madame Nguyen waited, standing beside two crates with a crew member, each one ready to hammer on the wooden tops. The crates looked to be well padded and packed, and on top through the bubble wrap could be seen the blue shadow of a plate.

  Madame Nguyen greeted them and thanked them for coming but seemed a little surprised at so many being present. At a nudge from Anna, Carlo introduced Jean-Claude who graciously lowered his head to brush a small kiss on her hand.

  ‘I believe our paths have crossed before,’ he said. He had recognised her straightaway as the flamboyant woman who always stood out in a crowd.

  She nodded. ‘It would appear so. We live in the same building in Hanoi. You have an interest in these particular ceramics?’ she asked.

  ‘Not at all. Miss Donaldson is my fiancée.’ He flashed a smile at Sandy, who held out her hand to show her ring.

  Madame Nguyen barely glanced at her and gave a cold smile. ‘Congratulations. Now, excuse me. Mr Franchetti, if you wish to inspect your goods.’ She waved a hand towards the crates.

  Carlo nodded and stepped forward, giving the impression of being a businessman used to such high-powered deals. He took no more than a cursory glance. ‘Yeah, yeah, great. I’m sure everything is in order. My father has confirmed that the money is now in your account.’

  ‘That is so – we too have confirmed it. It has been a pleasure to do business with you.’

  Jean-Claude raised his eyebrows. ‘Carlo, perhaps, as Madame has left the boxes open, you should just check?’

  Carlo frowned. ‘Yeah, right. I was just about to do that.’ He lifted a layer of bubble wrap and soft paper and held up a small plate.

  Jean-Claude reached for it. ‘May I? This is lovely. Fifteenth century you said, Rick?’

  Rick took the plate, turned it over and nodded.

  Jean-Claude smiled at Anna. ‘You will do well with these.’

  ‘It’s not her deal. It’s mine,’ retorted Carlo.

  Rick lifted a jug from the top of the second crate, looked at it and felt the layer of plates below it, then carefully re-rolled the jug in the protective wrap and replaced it. ‘They’re fine. Very well packed.’

  At that moment the wind changed and the rain began to lash the junk. Hung glanced outside. ‘We should go. Monsoon rain. I am afraid you will get wet even with the capes.’

  ‘This way.’ Madame Nguyen led them to the stern of the boat, where a small crane had been readied to move the crates. ‘We shall swing them down to the centre of your boat.’

  ‘How rough will it get? This rain is unbelievable,’ said Anna, thinking back to the typhoon.

  ‘It’s only rain, with occasional wind gusts; the sea is quite calm,’ Jean-Claude assured her.

  They quickly donned the tent-like rain capes and with Hung in the launch to help them down, they scrambled into it, pulling the hoods of the capes over their heads.

  Hung climbed back up onto the deck of the junk and with the help of a solidly-built crew member and the crane dropped the ropes around the first crate and lowered it down to Rick and Carlo. With both wooden crates settled in the centre of the open launch, Hung jumped aboard, started the engine, threw the line back to the crewman on the junk and steered away into the pouring rain.

  Sandy glanced back and saw that the big junk was already hauling up its anchor, but then heavier rain blotted it out altogether.

  ‘Don’t run into any of those bloody great peaks in the bay,’ said Carlo to Hung, only half joking.

  The karsts made dark forbidding shapes through rain that blew around the launch in great wet curtains. Then, as the rain momentarily abated the world briefly appeared.

  ‘There’s the roof of the Temple of Nowhere,’ exclaimed Anna, pointing to one of the forested limestone peaks.

  ‘There’s a boat behind us.’ Jean-Claude peered through the rain at a fast-moving white boat churning up a bow wave. ‘It’s a long way back but going pretty fast for these conditions.’

  Hung reached for the binoculars under his seat, took a quick look, then pushed the throttle forward to its maxi mum, sending the launch powering forward and throwing the passengers off balance.

  ‘What the hell? Hung!’ exclaimed Carlo.

  Hung took no notice but the boat swerved in a hard curve to starboard, heading away from the mainland and towards the two small karsts in front of the one with the pagoda on top.

  ‘Hung! Where are we going?’ cried Anna.

  ‘What’re you doing?’ said Sandy at the same time.

  ‘Who’s in that boat?’ asked Rick, but Hung ignored them.

  They all sat frozen in shock for a few moments. The white boat changed direction and it was obvious it was following them.

  ‘What do they want? What’s happening, Hung?’ shouted Carlo.

  ‘Sit down,’ snapped Hung, steering towards the small karsts.

  Jean-Claude reached for the binoculars and trained them on the pursuing white boat. ‘It’s probably customs o
r police. It’s impossible to tell in this rain.’ He turned to Carlo and shouted, ‘Why is Hung running from them?’

  ‘How would I know? We haven’t done anything wrong,’ said Carlo furiously. ‘Hung! What the fuck is going on?’

  Another burst of heavy rain swept across the bay, blotting out the peaks and the following boat. They knew that the launch was close to the peaks but in the pouring rain it was difficult to make out where they were headed.

  ‘Slow down, Hung! We’re too close to those peaks!’ cried Sandy.

  ‘I know this water,’ shouted Hung, not taking his eyes from the way ahead. He sped in between the karsts, putting the smaller one between them and the other boat. Then he changed direction again, running straight towards the large peak with the pagoda. The group in the boat now sat gripping their seats, the girls hanging on to Jean-Claude.

  ‘He’s trying to lose that boat in this rain,’ said Rick.

  ‘But they will find us when we get back to the mainland,’ said Sandy. ‘What’s he thinking?’

  Suddenly the white boat loomed through the rain, this time with bright lights flashing. Hung ignored it, swerving the launch around the smaller of the peaks so they were again out of sight of the pursuing boat.

  ‘There’s something wrong,’ said Jean-Claude. ‘Clearly that’s a patrol boat. Carlo, what do you know about this?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Rick spoke up. ‘There’s got to be a reason Hung is running scared. We’ve paid for these plates. There’s nothing illegal at all in what we’ve done.’

  ‘You sure there’s just old plates in these things?’ asked Jean-Claude, touching the crates.

  ‘You saw them. What’re you saying?’ demanded Carlo angrily.