The Virgin Whore Trial: A Holly Park Legal Thriller

by Brad Chisholm

  "What's the drink of choice here?" Holly asked, just trying to make conversation.

  The waiter smiled at the pretty lady. "In the Chicago summer, beer, and in the Chicago winter, potato vodka. Colder than fog. Colder than a woman's heart."

  "I hope you don't feel that way about all women," Holly laughed.

  He laughed along with her and pointed to a table. "I sense that you are cappuccino and biscotti kind of girl. We make our own. I will be right back."

  Holly sat up straight and looked around. A band was setting up on the stage when a man slipped into the chair across from her.

  "Choi!" Holly said, in complete surprise. This made no sense. She had just seen him yesterday in Los Angeles.

  "You came," his voice revealed neither surprise or pleasure. He smiled but his eyes were grave.

  "Why did you invite me here?" Holly asked. "Couldn't we have talked yesterday?"

  "No," Choi said flatly, then added "you will see."

  Choi flagged down a waiter and ordered a draft beer. Holly waited patiently. She enjoyed surveying the crowd, the happy energy a relief after the nervous tension of the jammed courtroom.

  Choi sipped his beer and looked over the crowd too, but saw nothing. Like a prisoner who has bonded with his jailer, he now hesitated in the last moments before freedom.

  "I have been burdened with a story all these years," Choi began. "I have decided to share it with you. Two can carry a rock more easily than one."

  Holly nodded encouragement, she didn't want Choi to change his mind.

  "Koreans say that a woman should be as discreet as two ships passing in the dark night," his eyes flashed. "But when those ships collide, the wreckage is great and spreads far and wide. Years will pass, but the debris remains," he took another sip. Choi's eyes closed, and he paused, the lines on his face deepening.

  Choi nodded to himself, lost in memory. "The Dumok and I were classmates. Friends and rivals. He was my rival although now I know it was all in my head. Perhaps he did not even know. I was an introvert and an intellectual. He was known as Young Chun in those days. He was handsome, muscular, thrilling, charming - and top of our class. He was on top of his game and he knew it. He was brilliant, successful at everything. He broke rules and got away with it. How I admired him as equally as I envied him. We both applied for the same government positions after graduation. He beat me at everything. He became the senior aide, I was given a lower position. I was both happy for - and bitterly jealous of - his success. Yes, I was jealous of him, a fact of which I took no pride. How I wanted to be exactly like my classmate and rival! I wanted to be him!"

  Holly nodded her understanding.

  "Several years later, the Ambassador came to the United States, where I was posted in Los Angeles. He came alone. A personal matter, the Ambassador said. Finally, I thought, a chance to show my abilities without being in the shadow of my rival.”

  Choi continued. “The Ambassador was seeking diplomatic clearance for his newly married daughter and family who were scheduled to arrive in the States in a month. Diplomatic clearance for three, he said. He asked that I handle the matter personally, down to the smallest detail. Of course, I had heard that the Dumok had married the Ambassador's daughter. As the Ambassador spoke, I detected an unease in his speech. I secretly could not have been more pleased at my own good fortune. An important chess piece had been taken off the table. I would be the replacement, I was certain."

  Holly sat back in her chair. The ambient sounds of the jazz club, which had been so loud, was gone. She might as well have been in a field somewhere, or in a silent room.

  "I made the necessary preparations,” Choi gestured with his hands in his animated way. “I also received a cable that a package would arrive at the Embassy to be turned over to the arriving family. You can imagine that I rehearsed in my mind how to play the scene to come. Sincere welcome to the family. Both judicious concern and encouragement to my friend at this twist of fate. My sincere pledge to render any possible support and encouragement in the days ahead... yes, with my ascension imminent, I was ready to be gracious."

  "You paint it so clearly.”

  "I have had time… to contemplate," Choi pressed his lips together, "that fateful day."

  Holly nodded, leaning forward, afraid to miss a word.

  "I went to the airport. I had reasonably assumed - that the clearance for the Dumok, Nara, and their child would be expedited. While I was waiting, I opened the package and two passports fell out and $10,000. In that moment I knew, with the utter and absolute certainty of the damned that the twins who came off the plane were not the offspring of my good friend and rival."

  Choi hesitated, then, his brown eyes clear and certain but not even seeing Holly. He was back at the airport, staring fate in the eye.

  On the stage below, seated at the grand piano, Slow Train Lexington looked towards the stairs at the back of the club. It was time.

  Holly remembered to take a breath. "How? How, Choi? how could you have been so certain?" Holly asked in bewilderment, confused.

  Choi smiled, then, and indicated casually with his chin to look below, to the girl wearing a wireless mike and slowly walking down stairs and across the club floor.

  "May I present Naomi's twin sister," he said. "Ms. Cherry Lexington, formerly known as Sara."

  Then Holly heard a voice, a cappella, from the back of the club, it filled the room and she turned to look. This was no ordinary voice.

  "The nights are long, the dice grow cold... My lucky number, bought and sold... I turn the cards, they never lie...

  Holly's eyes followed, until hers, too, rested on the girl. A single spotlight. She had cat eyes and mocha colored skin and moved like a panther. If her dress were any tighter it would be paint.

  A hush fell over the crowd as she made her way to the stage and clipped her microphone to the stand.

  “…but fate is cruel, yet still I try...

  alone and dressed in blue... alone I wait... for you."

  The drums, stand-up bass, piano and electric guitar kicked in now and the beat turned aggressive.

  "I wait longer, than time itself... to turn the cards that I was dealt... only clubs and spades are mine, no hearts or diamonds, cards never lie... the cards are red and black, I dress in blue... one more time, to wait for you...”

  The club filled with a burst of wild applause and hushed appreciation as Cherry shyly bowed and made her way to the piano.

  "Was I good, daddy?" she asked, kissing him on the cheek.

  "You know it, thank the nice people," said Slow Train. "You feel up to doing another?

  "Yes," she beamed.

  Mr. Lexington nodded to the band, they were all so in synch that the new tempo, more upbeat, swinging, seemed entirely natural. Slow Train Lexington, had, with the assistance of his friend Choi, adopted Cherry. He and his late wife had raised Cherry as their own in Chicago's jazz community.

  Her voice had a texture and melancholy well beyond her years and she connected with the audience one-on-one making each patron feel as if they were alone with her. That was her gift. He had nurtured it but you can't create it. She was born with it.

  Though her musical talent didn't come from him genetically, he had groomed her raw but astonishing natural talent and took pride in her ability as if he had passed on his own. He loved her as a gift from the Lord. If only he could make the nightmares go away.

  Up on the balcony Choi sat silent, his eyes pressed tightly shut. Holly waited until the set had ended, enjoying every moment, but also stunned and in shock. Choi came out of his trance.

  "She's half... black." Holly whispered.

  "Do you understand why you had to come?" Choi almost whispered.

  Holly nodded numbly. "I didn't know until after I saw the girls myself,” Choi said. “I learned the real truth later, much later, from Nara herself.”

  Choi resumed the story. "Apparently, Nara had an indiscretion with the son of a South African diplomat. When Nara took to he
r bed moping after the boy left, the mother was instantly suspicious. Only the mother knew the identity of her daughter's lover, not daring to tell the Ambassador whose child Nara carried. Nara had two younger brothers and any illegitimacy in the family line would have destroyed the family's reputation and the caused a political scandal. They needed to cover it up for the sake of their sons' future marriages. They needed a scapegoat."

  "The Dumok!" Holly cried.

  "Yes. He was, to the Koreans, a foreigner raised in Europe but he spoke Korean flawlessly because of his mother. When he came to Korea to study, he was unaware of the prejudices of the Korean people against half-breeds, that they would never fully accept him.

  The Ambassador was terribly fond of the Dumok. Young Chun, as he was known then, was handsome, big, smart and had a love of the Korean culture. He was a perfect choice. The public would not suspect anything if the Ambassador married off his daughter to his trusted aide.

  Nara was given secret marching orders to seduce the Dumok before the pregnancy showed so that they could pass the pregnancy off as the Dumok's child. The identity of Nara's lover was kept a secret from the Ambassador. Nara's mother planned to send Nara to the America to finish out the pregnancy. The plan did not work. The rumors reached the Ambassador of the identity of Nara's lover. The Ambassador lost control and beat Nara so badly she could not travel, so Nara was sent to a remote village to heal," Choi swallowed, hard, then took a sip of his beer.

  Holly sat, silent, the enormity of it gathering on the horizon.

  Choi continued, his voice raspy. "The pregnancy was difficult. Sari, who we know as Naomi was born first, followed by Sara - who is Cherry. As Sara was pulled from Nara, the screams of the midwife could be heard throughout the village. Nara's womb produced two children, one black and Korean and the other, entirely Korean .”

  "Dig the graves," Nara's mother ordered grimly, without hesitation or discussion.

  "The graves!" Holly cried. "The little graves!"

  Choi nodded.

  "That was the fate of the children with mixed ancestry. Twigi's they were called, a very derogatory word for children of mixed blood. Often, they were left in the streets to die, or worse, drowned in the river.”

  Holly scarcely dare breath as Choi continued. “It was survival to many women then. They could not remarry with such a child tethered to them. Nara was in a different position. She was well-bred and educated. And in the end, it was Nara who refused to let her babies die. Nara fought hard for her babies lives, threatening to make a public scandal if anyone harmed her babies."

  "Choi, it's not so long ago, is it? One generation only?"

  "The old families in Korea are not modern, Holly. For all their veneer of sophistication, they are slow to change."

  Holly nodded in understanding, but she did not understand at all. Holly raised her eyes to Choi, encouraging him to continue.

  "I was charged with informing the Dumok that both Nara and his child - one child - had died in childbirth and they were buried in the mountainside. Yes, the Ambassador used the Dumok. But with the lie, it was actually his intention to set him free to go on with his life. To forget about Nara and the dead offspring."

  Holly's memory flashed back to the wet graves, the watchful maple tree, the drowning, freezing rain, and the gaunt figure of The Dumok brought to his knees, raging against fate. She shivered, her eyes focused on Choi.

  "What surprised - and infuriated - me," Choi continued, "was that even in his trickery, the Ambassador was still fond of my rival and took great efforts to mitigate any harm against him.”

  “'With time, he will forget about Nara and the baby,' the Ambassador said." Choi sighed." I was fueled with jealousy that the Ambassador showed only concern over my classmate and rival. It was then I realized I was nothing to the Ambassador but a tool and a casual nod, nothing more."

  Holly nodded. Not trusting herself to speak. Silently willing Choi the strength to keep going.

  "And I tell you plainly, what I have told no one, that jealousy made me twist the knife. I of course did as the Ambassador ordered. But I added a lie - what I thought was a small lie. I told the Dumok that Nara had gone to the medicine man in the village, and had traded her jewels for poison to kill the child, and that the poison ended up killing the both mother and child. I never imagined what happened next. The Dumok went to the village to confirm with his own eyes the graves where his wife and child were buried. A villager saw him climb the mountain," Choi said, a new quiet in his voice. "When he came down the mountainside, he was like a raging bull. He ran into the village tearing open the huts."

  "The medicine man!" Holly gasped. "He was looking for the medicine man!"

  Choi nodded. "The Dumok killed the medicine man with his bare hands, and almost lost his own life in the battle."

  Holly's hand involuntarily went up to her throat. "The scar," Holly whispered.

  "The medicine man struggled hard and the Dumok was almost decapitated but he was the one who came out of it alive," Choi sighed. "Gradually, Young Chun became comfortable in the dark places and his anger grew at becoming an outcast of the only world he had ever known, that of privilege and accomplishment. It was then he became The Dumok, setting out to build his own world, where he would be the predator and not the goat."

  Choi took a slow sip of his beer. "I have studied his rise over the years, and can say with certainty that no man has ever turned cruel fate into a flaming sword as he did."

  Then Choi's mood darkened. "There are always two aspects of tragedy. First, the tragedy itself, and secondly - and this is perhaps worse - the moment when you become reconciled to it."

  Choi's voice resonated with the bitter authority of experience. "I realized, too late, of course, that we had both been played by a master. I had betrayed my friend to gain favor from the Ambassador, only for the Ambassador to betray me in turn. It was as if the devil himself had pushed my neck into the earth with a pitchfork."

  Choi reached for a cigarette. Holly waited patiently.

  "Have you ever been desperate, Ms. Park?"

  "Honestly? No," Holly shook her head, "Not in the way you describe."

  "Even desperate men can be shocked by how desperately they act," Choi continued. "Yet… sometimes even good can come of it."

  Choi looked over the balcony at Cherry as applause swelled below them as the band came out for another set.

  "Of course, as fate lives to twist the knife, I later ran into Nara with her girls. I realized that even in America, prejudice was too deep against Sara because of the color of her skin. I was no better. I can't deny it. But like a coin, fate has two sides. It was a twist of fate that I met Train Lexington when I did.” As Choi spoke, his eyes glistened in memory.

  Jazz kept Choi going in America. That, and men's saunas where he went to relax. Choi turned off the music and parked his car and went to the lobby of the men's spa, took the elevator that went down one floor to the basement where he was handed a robe, towel, flip flops, a razor, and a toothbrush and pointed down the hallway. He walked passed several dozen men watching the Korean news channel in the communal area lounging naked or in towels on leather couches and chairs. He knew many of them by sight and exchanged nods of greeting with a few.

  Choi ate a bowl of seaweed soup before heading for the sauna, which was empty except for a black man, heavy set, leaning his head against the wall, his eyes closed, maybe asleep. He looked a little familiar, maybe a retired athlete, maybe a football coach. The Americans had discovered the Korean saunas a few years before and now they were a common sighting.

  Choi poured a scoop of water on the glowing rocks, trying to do it quietly, but the sizzling sound of the water hitting the hot stones woke up the man.

  The heat hit Choi in a soothing wave. The seaweed soup had been good. He tapped his fingers and hummed a few bars of a popular jazz tune "Adam's Other Rib" that he hadn't been able to get out of his head. "Adam's other rib... caught me by surprise... the other woman came... in a soft and
pale disguise..."

  "Don't step on the beat, brother."

  Choi's eyes flew open at the sound of the deep voice. The black man was sitting straight up now, a crooked smile on his face. Choi was about tell this fellow he knew nothing about jazz, when he realized he recognized the voice. He stared at him, it really was his idol, Slow Train Lexington. Besides his music, he had heard him interviewed on jazz radio.

  "You can call me "Train", Lexington held out his hand.

  "I'm... Choi." he said, awkwardly.

  "Do you know where I can get some good Korean barbeque? I'm out here with my wife seeing doctors at the UCLA Medical Center, and Cedars-Sinai for in-vitro treatments," Train sighed. "She wants a baby. You'll do any crazy thing your woman wants, right?"

  They chatted for a while in the heat, opening up in a way that sometimes only strangers can. "I will take you to a good Korean restaurant tonight," Choi offered. "The best. Very best."

  "I think I will take you up on that!" Train's enthusiasm was genuine. Over Korean barbecue and a few glasses of soju, an unlikely but life-long friendship was born. The nervous Choi and the mellow but sophisticated Slow Train Lexington had both lived their own versions of the blues, and fate had brought them together.

  Holly watched Cherry in fascination. Choi watched Cherry, too, but his thoughts were of the past. The greedy and unrelenting past that refused to let him go. He sighed and continued his tale.

  "I knew Nara could not survive on her own, so I convinced her to give Sara to my friend Train Lexington - the man at the piano – he and his wife had been trying everything to have a baby to no avail. At least save the life of one child versus destroying the lives of two."

  "But... Naomi..." Holly's voice quivered plaintively, she could barely squeak out the name.

  "Exactly," Choi pushed his cigarette butt into the ashtray. "The other horn of the dilemma presented itself. We needed to keep Naomi from searching for her twin, so we told her that Sara had drowned, in that little backyard pool and it was Naomi’s fault for not watching her sister.”