Riddle of the Five Buddhas

By Rose Ameser Bannigan

Leaving an abusive father, eighteen-year old Christie marries Marine pilot Kenneth Doran just before his Vietnam assignment. There he joins a plot to steal U.S. Embassy money. As the war ends, Kens plane crashes. Injured and suffering from amnesia, he is befriended by northern Thai Hmong villagers.

Concurrently, senior Vietnamese officials illegally transfer millions of state-owned funds to Swiss banks. The secret numbers are concealed in five Buddha statuettes to enable them to claim funds later.

Working in a San Francisco gift shop, Christie accidentally acquires several Buddhas. An American journalist and the CIA, tracing the stolen money, pursue Christie. Discovery of Kens survival takes Christie to Thailand and involvement in searching for the hidden money and gold.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Aug 2, 2005
• ISBN: 9781467029285

Rose Ameser Bannigan

ABOUT THE AUTHOR An avid reader, writing fiction has always been one of Rose Bannigan’s goals. This is her fourth novel. Her three previous novels, The Snowstorm Murders, Riddle of the Five Buddhas and The Purloined Encryption Caper, were also published by AuthorHouse. Rose Bannigan worked for the Central Intelligence Agency in Washington, DC and Germany. Because of an evolving interest in Asia and international economic and social development, she joined The Asia Foundation and served in their San Francisco, New York and Afghanistan offices. Her assignment in the Foundation’s office in Kabul led to travel in India, Pakistan and other parts of Asia as well as the Middle East. After leaving that Foundation, she joined the staff of the National Academy of Sciences which was becoming more involved in scientific collaborations with developing countries. Assigned to their international office, she concentrated on staffing and managing collaborative scientific programs whose activities involved travel to the Middle East, Africa and Asia as well as extensive report writing and editing of scientific studies and reports on many aspects of development. She was mainly responsible for developing and administering scientific and technical programs in Indonesia and Thailand for over ten years. A native of Ohio, she currently lives in Arlington, Virginia with her husband, John, a lecturer and writer on Asian affairs. They still travel abroad and spend time at their vacation homes in Southern Shores, North Carolina and in Hampshire County, West Virginia.

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Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

EPILOGUE

About the Author

DEDICATION

For John, my husband and editor,

with love and gratitude.

PROLOGUE

Saigon, June 1974

The South Vietnamese general took his seat at a table regularly reserved for an individual of his stature. He was casually dressed today and had gone for a swim while waiting for his four comrades who had just finished a set of doubles.

Mon general, ca va? they asked as they joined him. They shook hands and lifted their glass of Trente Trois beer the waiter automatically brought when he saw them approach the table. This was a regular Saturday outing at the Cercle Sportif, the gathering place for senior, moneyed South Vietnamese officials, as well as members of the international community. It was especially popular with the French ex-colonials and foreign journalists covering the Vietnam War. The lush tropical greenery and flowers surrounding the swimming pool with tables shaded by brightly colored umbrellas provided a welcoming atmosphere for dining. And the well-maintained tennis courts were the envy of the city dwellers.

The American numbers had decreased rapidly since most of the U.S. military had been withdrawn by late 1973 as a result of the short-lived Paris Agreement to end the Vietnam War, negotiated by Secretary of State Henry Kissinger and the North Vietnamese Foreign Secretary. Only a few U.S. military advisors and military pilots plus a large U.S. embassy and Agency for International Development group remained. The Americans had wrongly assumed that the South Vietnamese army could contain the North Vietnamese onslaught.

It was becoming apparent, however, to senior South Vietnamese government officials and top military officers that it was only a matter of months before the North Vietnamese army, with the insidious assistance of the remaining Vietcong, would march into Saigon. These five men realized they had to plan to get themselves and their families out of the country.

How much time do we have left, Mon General? What are the projections of the military? the president of the State Bank of Vietnam asked.

March or April, at the latest. So it would be best to start putting our plan into effect now, he continued. Do you all agree? All nodded in assent.

I have already established a Swiss bank account and have begun transferring funds from the National Reserves, the banker confessed. I must do it piecemeal so as not to raise suspicions. I would recommend that you each open non-traceable private bank accounts in Switzerland, Monaco, Liechtenstein, or the Caribbean and the sooner the better. We cannot wait until Saigon falls. Affairs will be scrambled and communications will not operate well at that time. The communists will obviously freeze all government funds and cut all contact with the outer world, other than with their own allies, until the dust settles. The banker hesitated before going on.

Have you managed to have your artist wife sketch a design for the Buddha statues? he asked the intellectual professor from the university.

Yes. The design should be ready soon to send to your daughter. Also, my wife is having the ten coins made. Dong would be very thankful when his part of this activity was over. Such schemes were uncomfortable for the mandarin, but he deemed it essential to participate in this plan to insure care for his family after the North’s takeover.

Good, the banker said. We should get together soon after a new number is assigned for the account. This will have to be done in person in Switzerland. We don’t want to leave any trace of a bank number that could be detectable by a new government. My daughter, Linh, will travel to Switzerland from her school in Europe shortly. I will instruct her to insert the bamboo slivers prepared by the bank in the Buddhas and then seal them. I am sure the bank will accept the markings as we agreed. Each of us will receive a Buddha. The letters and numbers marked on each bamboo sliver will be only a portion of the name and bank account number. Thus, no single person will know the complete number and name and would be unable to withdraw the funds. Linh will return to Saigon after the summer session ends and bring the Buddhas back with her. He paused for effect. He was hoping no one would question the integrity of his daughter. He trusted her implicitly to carry out his instructions precisely and not make duplicate slivers.

The Bank will be instructed not to honor any withdrawals from the account without presentation of all five bamboo slivers and the matching five coins, he continued. It is unusual, but I’m sure they will understand under the circumstances. The banker had carefully thought out his plan of secretly transferring the final amount of monies from Saigon. Fifty million dollars was involved, yet he would have to make sure that the final withdrawal was not made too far in advance of the fall of Saigon. If it were, the regular South Vietnamese auditors might be able to detect the embezzlement.

He had already managed to remove secretly from the bank vault many small gold bars and was now deciding on how to get them out of the country. He was waiting for his daughter to return. She could lighten this task for him with the aid of her fellow students studying abroad.

Xuan, where are most of the American funds? What do you think will happen to them when Saigon falls? I assume they won’t be able to take much with them. The banker had nothing to do with the American monies, other than knowing which banks housed most of their funds.

Xuan, who headed what was left of the government’s intelligence services, replied with emphasis. "I understand the Americans normally burn green, of course with a senior Embassy officer and a Marine guard or two, verifying the procedure. But that pertains mostly to cash on hand, which I understand is considerable. I have asked one of my men who sits in the Embassy finance office to let me know exactly how much money they have and whether they intend to replenish any bank accounts during the next six months.

I understand, he continued, that when Saigon falls or shortly before, they plan to distribute a great deal of American green dollars and gold to Vietnamese nationals who have cooperated with them. The locals can escape across the border into Thailand or Laos, if they can do so without running into the Pathet Lao. Or else hire a boat and make it across the Gulf to Malaysia. If one has enough green or gold, I’m sure one can arrange almost any kind of transportation or even bribe some of the Northerners who will by then infest our land. He almost spat out the last phrase as the picture crossed his mind.

Xuan’s super intelligence organization in South Vietnam had kept current on monetary dealings. One could tell who was being paid off and by whom by the amount of money they had. The Americans were usually very generous with locals who had been helpful or worked with them.

Okay, until later. Perhaps sometime in December or January, the banker said. By then we will have a better idea when we must exit the country and how we can get our families out without arousing American suspicions or those of our colleagues as well as the general population. He paused as their heads nodded in agreement.

The general then took over. We should definitely not stay here past the beginning of March. Otherwise, it will be too late. I shall count on you, he said pointing to the other member who had remained silent during the meeting, to arrange for tickets and passports once our final plan is in effect. And you, he said pointing to the banker, "should start transferring as much money as possible. Please keep enough on hand for our tickets and travel costs. I don’t think you need to officially record any of it. When we leave, arrange to have all financial records burned. I’ll give you several incendiary grenade devices that will reduce papers to ashes in minutes.

And, he continued, when we meet again we should have a designated contact point so we can communicate after we leave and get settled. I assume it will be in Paris, San Francisco or Washington, DC It seems to me those are the most hospitable places for Vietnamese refugees. Hawaii is an alternative. However, I understand there are many Japanese settled there and living costs are high. And I don’t like Japanese very much. The general remembered too well his family’s experiences during the Japanese occupation in Indochina during World War II.

Xuan volunteered a response. Perhaps we should ask one of our American friends to serve as our future contact. He doesn’t need to know that we plan to leave before the final fall of the city. All agreed.

They rose, nodded farewell and went their separate ways.

CHAPTER 1

Why won’t you let me pick you up at your house tomorrow night rather than the 7-Eleven? Ken asked.

No. It’s better that we meet here. She was adamant in her refusal.

Ken finally agreed and drove off, leaving Christie to walk the two blocks to her house. When she got there, her angry father was waiting.

I saw you talking to that soldier and walk him to his car, her father screamed. I won’t have you going out with any lousy soldier or sailor. All they’ll do is take advantage of you and get you knocked up. Then, I’ll have to take care of both you and your brat. It’s enough that I’ve had to work my ass off to support both you and your good-for-nothing mother. Now look at her. She runs away with the first man who’d have her after I was done with her, leaving you behind. He had been drinking as usual and his face was scarlet with anger.

Don’t worry. I won’t get knocked up as you say, she said sarcastically. I’m on the pill. And regardless of what you think, I don’t go around sleeping with guys. I leave all the whoring to you. All I want is to go out on dates and have a good time. I don’t think that’s criminal behavior. And he’s not just a Marine, but a nice person.

She dashed past her father, ran up the stairs to her bedroom, slammed and locked the door behind her. I’ve graduated from high school, she thought, and next month I’ll be eighteen. Then I can leave. She could hardly wait. She had only been able to save $200 from her 7-Eleven job since her father had insisted she pay him room and board. But that might be enough to get her started somewhere else.

The next evening Ken noticed that under her long sleeved blouse, her wrist was black and blue, even though she tried to hide it. What happened? he asked.

Nothing. Just another argument with my father, she answered sheepishly. He didn’t want me to go out with you .

Do you mean your father actually beats you? Ken asked incredulously.

Just sometimes, Christie responded ashamedly, but quickly added, let’s not talk about it anymore. Ken was quiet for awhile, and pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

Ken liked Christie, more than any other girl he had ever dated. A Marine pilot, 24 years old, he had been thinking seriously about getting married. While he and Christie had been dating secretly for the past six months, they hadn’t yet made love and he wanted her, very badly. Every time he raised the possibility, she shrank back and insisted on his taking her back to the store. He couldn’t insist, since she was just 17 and it would be statutory rape in the eyes of the military and could get him 20 years in Portsmouth Naval Prison.

He didn’t even know whether she liked him or had any special feelings for him, since they had never discussed emotions. She would kiss him and allow him to kiss her passionately. Several times she let him feel and kiss her breasts, but that was as far as it had gone.

Today, Ken heard rumors at the Cherry Point Marine Air Station that his unit might be sent to Vietnam within the next few weeks. He knew he wasn’t madly in love with Christie, but at the moment that was secondary. He liked her a lot and longed to have sex with her before he went off to war. He also was anxious that someone would miss him while he was away and be waiting for his return.

After they were seated, Ken took Christie’s hand and held it gently. Christie, I really like you a lot. How do you feel about me? He waited for her answer.

Ken, you know I like you. You’re the only guy I’m dating. She didn’t know exactly why the conversation was taking such a turn.

Enough to marry me? he asked searchingly.

Christie was dumbfounded. It never occurred to her to marry so young, but she did like Ken, even if she didn’t think she loved him. But he could be her escape from the current hell she was living at home.

Finally, she said, Yes, Ken, enough to marry you, but my father would never agree to it. He’d probably throw me out of the house if I even asked him. This she knew was true.

You’ll be eighteen soon. Let’s elope. Then he can’t say anything about it. You could get a small apartment near the base. If I’m sent overseas, you can live with my dad in San Francisco until I get back. My mom died several years ago and he’s sort of lonely. I know he’d like that. The idea even sounded reasonable as he said it.

That evening Christie let Ken make love to her in the back seat of his car. Making love hadn’t been as awful as her mother had led her to believe. In fact, it had been rather exciting after the first instant of pain and Ken was far more passionate than she ever thought he could be.

The next day they applied for their marriage license and were married two weeks later, the day after she turned eighteen. It was also the day Ken got his orders to go to Vietnam. Since he had just gotten married and he was a promising Second Lieutenant pilot, the brass permitted him two weeks’ leave to drive to San Francisco, with orders that he would leave for Vietnam directly from San Francisco.

Christie went to the bank to withdraw her savings and close her account. Mr. Jackson, the bank manager, saw her at the teller’s window and asked her to step into his office. He had planned to telephone her that very day and ask her to come see him.

Christie, I have something your mother left to give you when you reached eighteen. Mr. Jackson went to a vault and withdrew an envelope and handed it to her.

What are your plans? The teller told me you’ve just withdrawn all your money and closed your account. he asked.

Christie didn’t know whether to tell him about her marriage, but figured it didn’t matter now. She was leaving the next day anyway.

Mr. Jackson, she said with her head bowed, you know our family hasn’t been a happy one. She hesitated, before continuing her story. My father isn’t a very kind man, especially since my mother left.

I understood that was the reason she left, he said, knowing very well about the beatings her mother had received during her stormy marriage to Christie’s father. You can confide in me, Christie. I was a friend of your mother’s and her family before she married your dad.

Well, then you’re the first to know that yesterday I married someone I’ve been dating for the past six months. He’s a Marine pilot. We leave tomorrow for California where his dad lives. Then, my husband is going to Vietnam. That’s the reason I withdrew my money. I’ll wait for him in San Francisco. I couldn’t stand staying at home any longer. I always did plan to leave home as soon as I was eighteen anyway, she explained softly

Congratulations to you both, Mr. Jackson said, giving Christie a big hug. You deserve happiness. I know your mother would be happy to hear about it. He only hoped that Christie wasn’t marrying as an excuse to leave New Bern.

He gave her his business card. Please let me know your address in California as soon as you’re settled. In case I hear from your mother, I can tell her where you are. Christie took the envelope and card and went home.

Tears came to Christie’s eyes as she unfolded the letter.

"My darling Christie,

I asked Mr. Jackson to give this to you after you graduated from high school and have the opportunity to make your own decisions about your future. There are enclosed some U.S. savings bonds. I want you to have opportunities I never had. Please do not share this letter or the bonds with your father who would only take them from you and threaten you as well. He’s a very mean man, something you probably have discovered by now.

The letter continued. "You must hate me, I know, for deserting you at sixteen, and I guess I wouldn’t blame you. Perhaps in time, you’ll understand my action and forgive me. I had suffered abuse from your father since you were born and even before. I tolerated his raping me within days after your birth and his subsequent beatings until I felt you could take care of yourself. I had planned to stay with him until you reached eighteen and graduated from high school. However, when Roland came along and asked me to go with him, and you told me you wanted to stay in New Bern so you could graduate with your classmates, I had to grab the opportunity even though it meant leaving you behind. Roland and I love each other very much. Love is something I never had with your father.

"The many times you came home and found me black and blue were not the results of accidents or falls as your father insisted, but of his abuse. I pray that he hasn’t taken his viciousness out on you after I left. Somehow, I felt you were stronger and wouldn’t tolerate his physical violence. I shall try to keep in touch with you, but I know your father will only intercept my letters and, if I try to telephone you, you’ll be the one to suffer from his wrath.

"Take care, my darling daughter, and when you marry, be sure the man you choose is kind and gentle. Good looks can cover many flaws, but in the long run do not matter as much as being a good human being with a kind heart. I wish you well and hope you succeed in life. I feel in my heart that we shall meet again in the not-too-distant future. My love always,

Your adoring mother."

The letter was dated July 5, 1972, the day before her mother left. Christie remembered it well. Her parents had insisted she come with them to their church picnic. When they returned home, her father accused his wife of flirting with other men, something which Christie hadn’t noticed. Then he beat his wife with his fists until she collapsed. Christie could never understand how her mother put up with his anger and violence. She felt guilty that she never had the courage to stop her father from harming her mother..

She never blamed her mother for leaving, but had indeed become the substitute butt of her father’s anger and violence. He had beaten her only three times, the last time after he had seen her with Ken. She told him that if he ever did it again, she would kill him. She had stolen and hid his pistol, a Korean War souvenir, and although he had torn the house apart, he had never been able to find it. He believed his daughter when she made these hateful threats, especially since she had lodged complaints against his abuse at high school one day when she appeared in class all black and blue. This resulted in a standoff, a cold war. She vowed she would leave home and her brutal father on her eighteenth birthday and no longer was considered a juvenile.

Now her opportunity had come. It was a warm, summer day in North Carolina, with magnolias and crepe myrtle blooming, when she and Ken started their long drive across country.

Her father’s yelling, however, still rang in her ears. Get out you rotten tramp! I knew you’d come to no good like your fucking mother. Don’t come running back with this guy’s kid expecting me to take care of you! He slammed the door as they drove away.

Ken had never encountered such rage in a family before. His parents had been very loving and kind. He felt so sorry for Christie and was proud of himself for rescuing her from such a horrible situation.

Christie had no intention of ever going back to live with her father no matter what happened. She was leaving all of this behind. She not only had her $200 she saved, but over $4,000 in savings bonds her mother had left with banker Jackson. She wouldn’t tell Ken anything about them. This was her money and she would take Mr. Jackson’s advice and invest it in her own name as soon as Ken left for Vietnam.

She would also find a job in San Francisco and save as much money as she could from Ken’s family allotment. She never wanted to be poor again or take the abuse that both she and her mother had to put up with. And never under any circumstances would she contact her father again. She realized now how much she truly detested him and how he had tainted her life.

With more time, Christie knew she could really love Ken and considered her decision to marry him a good one. Her moment of sorrow came when he told her that they would have only one day together in San Francisco before he had to leave for Saigon.

Ken telephoned his father informing him of his marriage and his imminent assignment to Vietnam, and asked if it was okay for Christie to stay with him until he returned from Vietnam. His father readily agreed amid profuse congratulations.

They had a good time driving cross-country and Christie never imagined that the United States was so large and beautiful. They stopped at the various national parks and stayed at motels, which wouldn’t seem luxurious to most people but were like heaven to Christie. Ken made love to her every night and every morning, much to Christie’s delight. By giving herself to him sexually, she felt as if she belonged to somebody, so responded to his lovemaking with as much ardor as she could.

They arrived in San Francisco around noon one day toward the end of July as the fog was just beginning to drift over the city. The beauty of San Francisco was intoxicating. Surrounded by green hills, the city’s Golden Gate Bridge connected it with lovely towns across the Bay, which sparkled as jewels with their lights reflected in the foam-topped water. How different, she thought, from New Bern and the Atlantic Coast which she had grown so used to.

Larry Doran, Ken’s father, was an older version of Ken. Gentle, soft-spoken with a dry wit, and still handsome despite being almost fifty. He was nearly six feet tall and had a lean hard body. He had loved his wife deeply and was still suffering her loss, even though the passing years had helped ease the pain.

A salesman by profession, he traveled up and down the California coast selling printing supplies. Apparently, it was a good job since he made a comfortable living and didn’t seem to want for anything.

I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you here, Larry said as he welcomed Christie. I hope you consider this your home now, he said with a broad bronzed smile.

Christie was immediately drawn to Larry. She wondered what it would have been like raised in a family like this.

I hope I made you pregnant, Ken had said to Christie the last night he was home after they made love. It’d be wonderful to come home, not only to you but to a child as well, he remarked as he hugged her and kissed her goodbye.

What Christie had not told him was there was absolutely no possibility of her getting pregnant. Before her mother left with Roland, she had taken Christie to her gynecologist and had him prescribe birth control pills for her.

I don’t recommend your being sexually active, she told Christie. Making love should be more than simple intercourse. However, in the event you do lose your head one night, I don’t want you to have to marry someone just to have a name for your child. That was the day Christie learned that the reason her mother had married her father was because she was ‘knocked up’ as her father would say.

The day after Ken left for Vietnam, Larry left for Los Angeles to attend a sales convention. The previous night, Christie had cooked dinner for them.

Christie, I know it’s going to be lonely for you. I travel a lot on my job and I won’t be here much. We’ll have to talk about your doing something to keep busy until Ken comes back. You should meet some friends your age. It isn’t natural for you to be home alone all the time or waste time on an old man when I’m not traveling. Seeing Christie made Larry feel his age. She was so young.

Don’t worry about me, she said with a smile. Tomorrow, I’m going to look for a sales job since that’s what I’ve done before.

Larry wondered if that would be the best thing for Christie. Before Ken left, Larry had talked confidentially with him about the possibility of Christie going to college. Ken thought it would be good, provided she wasn’t pregnant. Larry would wait a few weeks before raising the issue of school, just in the event Christie was already ‘in a family way.’

The Doran residence, a small house, not elegant but still fashionable, was located at the foot of Pacific Heights, an upscale San Francisco residential area. Christie decided to walk the neighborhood the day Larry left and soon came to Union Street with its arty gift shops, small restaurants and avant garde boutiques. At one of the gift stores, there was a Help Wanted sign in the window. On the spur of the moment, she entered the store and asked to see the manager.

Christie liked the store immediately. It was small, but had an intimate feeling and the items for sale looked to be of good quality, as far as Christie could tell. Christie felt she could be very content spending eight hours a day or more in these pleasant surroundings.

As you can see, this is a very small store. What I’m looking for is someone who can help with stock inventory, sales and anything else that needs to be done. Are you interested in applying? Mrs. Atkins, the matronly woman behind the counter, asked Christie.

Yes, Christie said. I’ve never worked in a gift store before, but I have worked at a 7-Eleven in North Carolina.

Mrs. Atkins looked questioningly at Christie. Do you have a resume or any references?

No, but I could write something up. And if you need any references, I could call and ask the manager of the 7-Eleven in New Bern to write you. The local banker in New Bern, Mr. Jackson, has known me and my family all my life, and I’m sure he’d be glad to give me a personal reference. Christie was anxious to get this job so continued to explain her current situation.

Christie wrote out her name, the first time she listed herself as Christina Torrent Doran, as well as the names and addresses of her high school, her former boss at the 7-Eleven and banker Jackson with the appropriate phone numbers.

Why don’t you come back in a few hours, Christina? That’ll give me time to check on your references and also look over other applications I’ve received. I’m anxious to fill the job since I’m all alone in the shop now. If I offered you the job, how soon could you start?

Immediately, Christie responded. I’ve nothing else to do. And, by the way, everybody calls me Christie.

Mrs. Atkins felt sorry for Christie. She had been in a similar situation when her husband had been sent to Korea. If her references checked out, Mrs. Atkins would ask her to start the next day. And they did.

Christie loved her new job. She was entranced by the many exotic Asian objects, things she had never seen before. Mrs. Atkins explained the buying process, how goods were inventoried and how to promote and sell items to the customers.

You know, Mrs. Atkins, I’m really amazed. When people come into the store, most of the time they don’t have the faintest idea what they want. Usually it’s just a gift for a birthday, anniversary or a special occasion. When I was window shopping over the weekend, I noticed how the fancy shops had signs suggesting certain items for birthdays or special occasions. Why don’t we do that, especially if it’s something we happen to have a large stock of?

Mrs. Atkins laughed. I think it’s a good idea. Let’s try it.

Christie began to spend her evenings making handsome signs to highlight specials.

Mrs. Atkins was amazed at how many people responded to these recommendations and encouraged Christie to continue with her innovations. Christie, you seem to be a natural working in this store. I hope you’ll be willing to learn as much as possible about the business. If you ever have questions, please ask me. It was not totally out of the goodness of her heart, although she had grown very fond of Christie, but Mrs. Atkins wanted to take time off occasionally and hoped that Christie would be able to run the business without her.

This happened four months after Christie started working. Mrs. Atkins became ill and had to be absent from the store for a month. Christie took over and kept her employer informed by phone daily.

By this time, Christie had also begun taking several evening classes in marketing and accounting. I’ve no desire to get a degree, Larry, she told her father-in-law when he kept pushing her to go to college. I only want to learn more about running a store and marketing. I truly enjoy what I’m doing. Being a life-long salesman himself, Larry was pleased at her enthusiasm.

The customers enjoyed buying from Christie. When someone told her what was wanted, Christie always managed to recommend an item the customer considered the ‘perfect gift’, and her soft Carolina drawl disarmed them.

The following month was December and the Christmas season was almost upon them. It was a very busy time in a gift shop. It was in December, too, that Christie received her last letter from Ken. To say it was puzzling would not describe her bewilderment at its almost impersonal tone.

Then, three and a half months later, she received word from the Department of Defense that Ken was missing in action. She found the official Defense Department message when she returned one evening late from the store. She and Mrs. Atkins had been taking inventory to see what else they might need to buy at the various sales shows that normally took place early in the year. Larry had been away for several days and was not due home until the next day.

She sat at the kitchen table and reread the message several times before it actually sank in. Ken might not come back. She thought about calling Larry in Sacramento, but decided that it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t find out for another day.

Later, she went for a long walk, up one street and down the next, trying to figure out what it would mean if he didn’t come back. She had been married for less than three weeks before he left. It saddened her that some nights she could hardly remember what Ken looked like and what it was like to make love to him. She would often look at the photos of him alone and of them together to jog her memory.

In early March, the General and his four comrades met again at the Cercle Sportif. By then, all had managed to have their families take vacations or go to school outside of South Vietnam.

My daughter has made the proper arrangements in Switzerland, the banker said, and managed to insert the appropriate bamboo slivers in the Buddhas. Here, he continued as he passed out a foot-high Buddha and two brass coins to each of the participants. You will notice that there is a dot on one of the coins. I would advise you to immediately give the coin with the dot to a person of your choosing with a short note to brief them on its significance. Be sure to stress the value of the coin for their survivors. The coin without the dot will be the only one acceptable unless there is proof that the individual is dead. If the individual dies, the coin with the dot will confirm ownership of the Buddha when it is found. While these individuals had been life-long friends and earlier had all gone to school together in France, they had to make sure that no one would be able to empty the bank account without the agreement of the other four.

Initially, I have decided to go to Paris, the banker said. "My brother’s children