windowless hallway and into a much larger room with a dining table where a stark naked Western girl was serving three Frenchmen their lunch. Another one was in a corner with a man and was doing a lot more than serving him lunch. Thankfully I didn’t know any of the men, and they didn’t look at me strangely, no doubt assuming I was another European whore about to shed her clothes. All the girls at Le Chat d’Or were from Central Europe. If the Frenchmen wanted local flesh, they went elsewhere.
“He’s not here,” I said to the woman. “Could you point me in the right direction before I become pregnant just by seeing all this?”
We walked back into the hall and turned right. “The women aren’t getting pregnant,” she said, her voice flat. “They’re getting paid.”
“I would hope so.”
She peered into another room, gesturing for me to do the same. There was only one man inside, and I could tell just by glimpsing his bare bottom that he was not Red. “Listen, I’m not in the mood to see all you have on offer here,” I said as we stepped away. “I’m just looking for Red.” I reached into my bag and handed her more piastres.
She counted the money and said, “Top floor,” before putting it in her dress pocket. She pointed to a staircase. “Best room in the house for Red. Always,” she said before walking off.
How unsurprising.
I climbed the stairs to a landing and saw that there were four bedrooms up there. Only one had the door open. It was the right room.
A thin blond woman, naked except for high-heeled pink leather shoes, was kneeling between Red’s parted legs. His white dress shirt was still on, although unbuttoned completely, and he was wearing nothing else. He had one hand on her cheek, the other holding a cigarette, and he was muttering something inaudible to her.
“Is this what you wanted me to observe?” I said loudly, taking a few steps into the room. “I’ve seen better.”
“I don’t doubt that you have,” he said, smirking at me. He was definitely the kind of man who practiced that half smile in the mirror. “Cigarette?” he offered.
“I’ll pass,” I replied, keeping my eyes above his neck.
The girl who was hard at work pleasuring him paused, pulled her mouth off his erect penis, and looked at me, her lipstick slightly smeared, her irritation apparent.
“Don’t pay attention to her, Katya. She’s not staying long,” said Red. “Unless she wants to join in?”
“She doesn’t,” I said, reaching into the bag hanging from the crook of my arm. I took out a bundle of piastres, which were wrapped in a thin piece of rice paper and tied with one of the Nguyens’ green silk ribbons. I held it toward Red. “Would you like it, or shall I give it directly to her?”
“On the bed is fine,” he said, motioning with his head.
“Done,” I said, walking over and leaving it on the black cotton coverlet, careful not to touch the fabric.
“She went to the plantation, didn’t she?” he said before letting out a low moan. The girl was back to work.
“Yes, she did.” Pham Dat, the Hanoi stationmaster, had notified me when Jessie Lesage bought tickets all the way down to Saigon just days ago. I hadn’t yet been notified of her return.
“And did she see anything shocking? Something that would make her abandon her loyalty to her husband and his unscrupulous family? Is she brandishing the red flag around town?”
“I don’t know yet,” I said honestly. It had been my idea to get Jessie to the plantations. One last attempt to let her prove she had a conscience. Perhaps if she experienced it firsthand, she would feel differently; she would see something that she couldn’t write off as just furthering the family company. A beating by an overseer. A worker marked with scars from repeated caning. Something. I planned on probing the next time I saw her. If she was still singing the praises of capitalism, I’d know that she hadn’t or, worse, that she had and just didn’t care.
“I doubt she did,” said Red. “I’m sure Victor hid all the misery away. But I do appreciate the money. Let me know what other asinine tasks I can do for you that pay this well. I’m open to—”
He stopped speaking, let out another groan, and placed his hand on the girl’s face.
I headed for the door. “Don’t make me come here again.” It had probably been