Chapter Five.

Saturday, October 8, 1960.

Ch'angwang-san District,

Pyongyang.

North Korea.

Charlotte had installed Max... or, to use the name he responded to... Ku-da Chingu, in her apartment just off the Chǒnggǒ Jangjǒn-t'ong Highway in downtown Pyongyang for a little over three weeks since she had brought him up from the south. She had spent the time slowly introducing him to memories of his previous life, but as yet, he had grasped little recollection of his previous life. She had provided him with city clothes and took him on frequent walks around the bustling city. No one ever stopped them and demanded identity papers... why should they?... this tall European was accompanied by a Russian Colonel. There would be no suggestion that anything was other than it appeared to be... two Russian officials taking a leisurely stroll in the autumn sunshine.

Although she always called him Max, he seemed to exhibit little response to this name, and the thing that saddened her most, was that, because her apartment was tiny; from the first night, she had shared her bed with him. She had waited every night for him to show some inclination to make love to her. But, other than an occasional kiss and cuddle, his body seemed totally unaware of her soft, naked warmth, however much she pressed against him and even caressed him.

This state of affairs continued for several weeks, until early November. One morning, Charlotte was walking with him past the Government residence quarter towards the centre of the city, when Max suddenly stopped. He stared across the busy thoroughfare to where a pre-war, black BMW four-door saloon was parked at the kerbside. His face creased into a troubled frown, and he glanced at Charlotte, and then looked back to the car.

She touched his arm.

'What is it, Max? What's the matter?'

His face held a puzzled expression... which slowly changed to recognition.

'That car... it reminds me of a place. A street in a big city... I think it was named Joachim something... in... Berlin; and again, a place out of the city, in the woods... a place with a woman's name.'

Charlotte felt her throat tighten. She squeezed his arm.

'Yes, Max. That place was called Karinhalle. It was the country estate of an important Nazi... Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring; the second-in-command in Hitler's Nazi Germany. We drove out there to look for any clue as to the whereabouts of an artefact that I have been searching for since before the war. That's not important for now. What is important is that you are beginning to remember things from your past.'

He nodded dumbly.

'Do you think so? All I really remember is my life in the village. All the rest is either blank, fuzzy, or flashbacks that don't connect to anything.'

She smiled.

'Don't worry, Max. The car reminded you of past events. We can work on that, and then other pieces might begin to connect.'

She linked her arm with his and continued their stroll along the wide boulevard. As they walked, he played back this memory which blazed in his head. Faces and names were slowly beginning to return without any conscious thought. This was very strange. He studied his companion. She was so familiar. There were times when old dreams had caught him unawares, sending pictures of once-loved girls and women swirling through his mind. Usually, the picture was faint, but this woman... this Charlotte was different. He was beginning to feel a vague, half-remembered state of a true obligation to her; it was as if they were joined by an invisible, but inescapable bond of love and duty, one to the other. She was in her mid-to-late forties... the same age as him. Her golden-blonde hair was so familiar, as were her forget-me-not blue eyes. If only he could remember more.

Thirteen-hundred miles to the west, on The Peak district, Hong Kong Island; Brotherhood foot-soldier-cum-chauffeur, Zang Yun-fat was sitting in the black Mercedes-Benz limousine waiting for his bosses to complete whatever business they were conducting inside the imposing Colonial pillared, white mansion belonging to his Triad boss, Heung Wah-yim. He was admiring the centerfold of Playboy magazine's Playmate of the Month for October. He grinned, and ran his tongue across his lips. She was ripe and ready... an eighteen-year-old American model named Kathy Douglas. Nice tight body; dark auburn hair; pretty little breasts, and puffy nipples His lascivious thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of his passengers. He quickly stepped out of the limousine and opened the rear door for the two men. Shen Ming-húa, the Enforcer; and Chang Lok, the Liaison officer of the Brotherhood of the Hong Kong Sun Yee On Triad settled themselves in the plush rear seat as Zang Yun-fat turned the key in the ignition, and died, together with his two bosses and three innocent servants who were standing in front of the mansion. The stupendous explosion was heard over four miles away in Kowloon city itself, as it ripped through the car, hurling shards of metal and fragments of its unfortunate occupants in every direction, and partially demolishing the frontage of Heung Wah-yim's elegant white mansion.

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Later evidence painstakingly collected by the Hong Kong Police forensic squad established that the bomb had probably been attached to the Mercedes-Benz for at least seventy-two hours, and had been detonated by an ingenious electronic timing device which had allowed the vehicle to be started and driven several times before the critical "ball-bearing in a tube" mercury tilt switch activated the blasting cap which detonated the ten pounds of Composition C3 plastic explosive moulded into a neat package and concealed behind the Mercedes-Benz's dashboard.

Tell-tale residual traces established that it was indeed Composition C3; and the source of the explosive was probably Korea. This type of explosive had been found to have marginal plasticity at the very low temperatures encountered during Korean winters, and was significantly toxic, caused by temperature-sensitive exuded vapour and also by skin absorption. As a consequence, considerable quantities had been disposed of by the South Korean Military, and it was not beyond the realms of possibility that some had found its way into the hands of Korean criminal gangs.

Heung Wah-yim survived, although it was assumed that he had been the target of an assassination attempt. The Police were concerned that perhaps, this was the opening gambit of an inter-Triad war. The truth was; that the Kim Jonghyun, boss of the Seoul Yangeundongpa mob, had been tracking the Garnet gemstone for years, and had finally discovered that it was in Heung Wah-yim's possession. He reasoned that, since he had originally made a gift of the Garnet to the North Korean leader, Kim Il Sung; and therefore there had been an inferred obligation which had not been honoured by reason that the South had not fallen during the war; it was his right to repossess the gemstone.

Unbeknown to the investigating police; Kim Jonghyun had ordered that the mansion be kept under surveillance since the time at which the bomb was planted. When it finally detonated, Heung Wah-yim… its intended target, had been out on the terrace at the rear of the property enjoying a cigarette after little Mei-Hua's oral virtuosity had drawn to a gratifying conclusion. He immediately fled the scene without concerning himself about what might have happened to her; in another of his fleet of cars.

At the top of the hill that led down to the mansion; two of Kim Jonghyun's triggermen were waiting. As the driver of Heung Wah-yim's silver Mercedes-Benz 220SE Cabriolet slowed to negotiate the sharp bend at the T-junction with Barker Road proper; the two triggermen stepped out from the cover of the heavily wooded roadsides and opened up with their Russian-made PPSh-41 submachine guns on full automatic fire. With a dead driver at the wheel, the Mercedes-Benz ploughed straight on through the low guard railings and over the edge of the steep precipice. As it careened down towards Severn road, two-hundred-feet further down the slope; smashing and tumbling through the trees, the two triggermen walked nonchalantly back to their little red Simca Aronde saloon parked a few hundred yards back along Barker Road; climbed in, and drove down the winding roadways to finish the job.

The Mercedes-Benz had come to rest about ten feet up from the road, jammed between two large pine trees. One of the triggermen stepped out of the little Simca and clambered up the steep slope to the wrecked car. As he approached, he pulled out a silenced Beretta pistol, and ignoring the driver who was slumped across the steering wheel with half his head shot away; cautiously studied the bloodied body of Heung Wah-yim slumped across the back seat.

The other triggerman waiting in the little red Simca heard the silenced shots…"Phft!... Phft!" as his colleague fired two rounds at close range into the back of the motionless Triad boss's head. He smiled grimly to himself as the other man scrambled back down the slope and climbed into the passenger seat; then the two men drove away down towards Peak Road, and the main Highway One which led to the Causeway Bay waterfront where they would catch the Star ferry back to Kowloon.

Two days later, a Hong Kong and China Gas Company van arrived at the damaged mansion. Two men in company overalls left the van and approached the solitary policeman guarding the property. They explained that they had to check the building to establish that the gas supply was safe and undamaged. Was the building still occupied? The policeman assured them that it was empty. All remaining staff had been evacuated immediately after the explosion. The men nodded and suggested that the lone policeman position himself at a safe distance… just in case. They then proceeded to erect a tape cordon around the damaged frontage of the building.

With the policeman at a suitably safe distance, they entered the building; having instructed him to stay well back, while they checked the place out. Once inside, they systematically searched the building, and eventually found the Garnet gemstone that their boss, Kim Jonghyun had ordered them to find; hidden in a secret compartment in Heung Wah-yim's massive camphor-wood desk in the mansion's badly damaged drawing room. They also helped themselves to several hundred American Dollars stuffed into a manila envelope from the same secret compartment.

They then waited for a suitable period of time before emerging and removing the tape cordon. Informing the apprehensive policeman that all was safe, and the gas supply was disconnected; they climbed into their van and drove away, leaving the policeman relieved, and unaware of how close he had come to meeting his ancestors, had he decided to ask the wrong questions, or check up on what they were doing inside the building.