La Fantome

It was time to lay what cards I had on the table for Mrs. Lieu, so she'd understand why I was asking the questions I was going to ask. I spoke to Mr. Huyng.

"ca phe sua da...hai"

Mrs. Lieu smiled.

"You just ordered coffee for two. I didn't know you knew Vietnamese."

"I don't. I got a Vietnamese-English dictionary last night and memorized how to order two cups of coffee."

"I'm flattered that you would take the time to do such a thing."

I shrugged.

"You're taking your time to help me. Besides, I...I like you."

"Now I'm very flattered. I like helping you, so it's more like fun."

"Your husband doesn't care?"

Mrs. Lieu dropped her eyes.

"I lost him...in the war."

"I'm sorry I said anything."

Mrs. Lieu looked up and her smile returned.

"You couldn't know about that. It's all right, though. That was a long time ago. I'm not sad anymore."

She took a sip of her coffee, then smiled at me again.

"Who are we going to talk with tonight?"

"I thought I'd start by telling you what this is all about, so you'd understand."

She listened while I went through the story, sometimes nodding, sometimes frowning, and when I mentioned that Warren was technically missing in action, she looked astonished.

"He's been missing for all these years? How can that be?"

"Since he was able to come back to the US, he couldn't have been held captive. I can only guess he didn't want to be found for some reason. There've been a few soldiers who deserted to stay with their Vietnamese wives and came back years later. Maybe he was another one, and he just now came home. Anyway, he was evidently meeting someone who knew him, and it's likely the person he met is the same person who killed him. Do you know of any people here who he might have known back then in Vietnam?"

"It could be many. That's why most of us are here. If we'd stayed we'd have been put in work camps or killed because we worked on the military bases."

"I don't think people will talk to me about that time, and I don't want to make them any more afraid of the police. You seem to know most of the people here. Can you tell me about some of the most likely ones so I can decide which ones I do need to talk with?"

Mrs. Lieu began telling me about the people in the community. Most had just worked at one of the bigger military installations during the war. A few had been officers in the ARVN. None of them had any connection with the 101st or were from the area where the 1st Brigade was stationed. At six, I thanked her and asked if she'd have dinner with me again.

We went to the same restaurant behind which Warren had met his end. When Mrs. Lieu ordered for us, the young girl who took our order blushed and chattered something in Vietnamese. Mrs. Lieu laughed, and said something back as the girl walked quickly away. I asked her what the girl had said.

"She said the way you look at me, we would probably end the evening eating lying down."

Mrs. Lieu grinned.

"Eating lying down is an old Vietnamese saying that means having sex."

"Do you think I look at you that way?"

She grinned again.

"Sometimes I think you do and I rather enjoy it. That's what I just told her."

When we finished the meal, I really didn't want her to just leave.

"Mrs. Lieu, would you like to go someplace for a drink or something?"

"I don't usually go to places like that, but...well, we could go to my apartment for a cup of tea if you'd like."

I followed her example and took off my shoes when we entered her apartment. It's almost an instinct for me to look at any area as I would a crime scene, so as I padded around in my socks, that's what I did while she made our tea.

Mrs. Lieu's apartment was small. It was just two rooms with a bath. On one wall of the living area was her kitchen -- a small refrigerator, an even smaller stove, a sink, and a few cabinets. On the wall next to the kitchen was a tiny table with two chairs and on the wall opposite that, a TV and a low bookcase flanked on the left side by a door. I figured the door led to her bedroom.

The center of the room was occupied by a couch and chair. Curtains covered the windows on the other wall. It was a small place, but everything was tidy and it was obviously a woman's apartment. The colors were soft and everything matched, unlike my white walls and haphazard collection of furniture. There were only a couple of pictures on top of the bookcase, one of a little girl and a young couple I assumed was Mrs. Lieu and her parents. The other was a man in the uniform of the ARVN.

The voice behind me was soft.

"He was my husband."

"I thought that was probably so. ARVN, 1st Infantry Division, I think."

"Yes. He was killed during Tet. You were there...in Vietnam, weren't you?"

"I was there, '66 and '67, at Firebase Ripcord. I went to Hue a few times. The 1st ARVN was stationed there."

"I thought so. You call me Mrs. Lieu instead of using my given name, and you did the same for all the people we've talked with. Most people don't know that's the way Vietnamese address each other. It's nice that you remembered."

Her tea kettle whistled, and she talked over her shoulder as she hurried to her stove.

"Please sit down and I'll bring the tea."

We talked about a lot of stuff that didn't matter because neither of us wanted to talk about the one thing we had in common. At ten, I got up to leave. Mrs. Lieu walked with me to her door.

"Mrs. Lieu, I thank you for your company at dinner and for the tea. I hate to leave, but I have to work tomorrow so I need to be going."

Mrs. Lieu put her hand on my arm, then looked at the floor and her voice was almost a whisper.

"Do you really not want to leave me?"

"Well...that's just a figure of speech, and..."

"Then you don't feel like that girl in the restaurant said?"

"Well...I suppose I do to some extent. You're a pretty woman. If I knew you better...if I knew you felt the same..."

Mrs. Lieu looked up at me and smiled.

"I feel that way. You don't have to go if you don't want to."

She put her arms around my neck, stood on her tiptoes and looked into my eyes.

"Please stay with me tonight."

Mrs. Lieu seemed nervous as I took off my jacket, and unclipped the Glock from my belt and sat it on the bed. Before things went any further, I needed to know if she was having second thoughts.

"Mrs. Lieu, are you sure about this? I like you a lot, but we don't have to do anything tonight."

She looked at the floor and spoke quietly.

"I want to, but I'm not young anymore, and I don't know how American women make love with a man. I don't know if you'll like me or not."

I put my arms around her and chuckled.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm no spring chicken either. As for the other, I think everybody does it pretty much the same way."

Mrs. Lieu didn't say anything. She just pulled gently away and began unbuttoning her blouse. After carefully placing it on the chair by the door, she slipped her bra straps from her shoulders and pulled the cups down, then turned it around and un-hooked it. She also placed it in the chair, then unzipped her pants and slipped out of them. The black, lace panties came next.

Mrs. Lieu looked small when dressed in the pants and blouses she usually wore. Without them, she was tiny. She put the panties in the chair too, then looked up at me.

She was beautiful, with breasts that were large for her small body and tipped with large, dark brown nipples, and hips wide enough to give her ripe curves without being out of proportion. Her legs were slender and between her small thighs was a very sparse tuft of shining black curls.

"Mrs. Lieu, you're a very desirable woman."

She stroked my face.

"Then come show me how desirable you think I am."

She pulled back the bedspread, then the blanket and sheet, lay down and crooked her finger at me. It took a bit to get out of my shirt and pants, and a bit longer to get the boxers off because of the erection I had. As I slipped in beside her, Mrs. Lieu whispered, "What would an American woman do now?"

"What would a Vietnamese woman do?"

"She would do this."

Mrs. Lieu touched her nose to my cheek and inhaled.

"It is a sign of affection."

"Do you kiss each other?"

"Yes, if the people are lovers and are in private."

I kissed her soft lips, then eased back to look at her.

"Do they kiss like that?"

She smiled.

"Yes. Let me try."

Before I knew what she was up to, Mrs. Lieu had straddled my thighs and was easing her body down on top of me. As she leaned down to kiss me, her soft breasts pressed into my chest. I could feel her nipples growing stiff as her lips met mine. Her hands stroked my hair as her lips did a soft, sensuous dance the likes of which I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

It was without thinking that my hands stroked down her back and cupped her hips. They were small, soft and so smooth. I gently squeezed them and then separated them a little. The little moan that purred into my mouth told me she liked that. I let my fingertips trace her soft crack and she moaned again.

She moved her legs apart a little more. As my fingertips found the crease between her hips and thigh, Mrs. Lieu arched her back down. My fingers felt soft hair, then small, slender lips. When I stroked their length, she gasped into my mouth and then raised up smiling.

"We do that too. I like it. Do you?"

My response was to slip one fingertip between her slender folds and stroke lightly. She closed her eyes and smiled, then parted her lips in a silent little moan as my finger probed for her entrance. She was wet enough my finger slipped easily through the portal, and I felt more warm wetness as it went deeper.

She seemed to be very tight around my finger. I slipped it in and out slowly for a while, then probed with a second. Mrs. Lieu spread her thighs even wider. It was a very snug fit, but the second finger slipped in beside the first. She moved her hips around a little and then began rocking up and down over my hand. Her lips found mine again, and this time there was no sensuous dance. There was only raw desire in her lips, a nibbling, licking desire that had my cock stiff as a gun barrel and bumping against her inner thigh.

I slipped my other hand up to her breast and caressed the side. Mrs. Lieu raised up slightly to let my hand slip between us. When I brushed her large, stiff nipple, her tummy rolled against mine. She broke her kiss with a tiny gasp and then a quiet chuckle.

"Sorry. I'm so sensitive there."

"If you don't like it, I won't do it again."

She pressed her breast into my hand.

"Mmmm...I want you to do it a lot."

By this time, my fingers were covered with her slippery/sticky wetness and she was pushing her soft lips down further with each stroke. I slipped my fingers out and felt upward for her clit. It was small, just like the rest of her, but it was there, swollen taut with the tip stiffened into a soft rounded point. She shuddered when I brushed it with my fingertip, then whispered, "I need you now...inside me."

By scooting back down my body, she found my cock head and moved around until it slipped between her soft wet lips. After some more moving of her tight entrance that was driving me crazy, Mrs. Lieu eased her body down over the tip. She took a deep breath and then slowly impaled herself.

As she went down, she shivered a couple times, then raised up. She lifted both my hands to her breasts and then began riding my cock. After the second stroke, her lips parted in passion. After a few minutes, she moaned and her head fell back. I lightly stroked her nipples and she moaned again.

I knew she'd feel tight, but I couldn't believe how much my cock had stretched out her lips. Where before, they'd been slender and soft, now they were puffy and stretched wide around my shaft. When she raised up, her juices glistened on my length. When she sank back down, her lips tried to roll back up inside her, but they were so swollen and stretched they couldn't. Instead, they clasped my shaft until she was all the way down, and then sort of spread out around the base of my cock.

Mrs. Lieu held my hands to her breasts for a while, squeezing them so I'd feel the soft globes slip through my fingers, but then slipped one down her tummy. I couldn't see her swollen lips after that. All I saw was her fingers slowly rubbing her clit. After a while, I felt her stiffen slightly, then gasp. Her stroking sped up and each time her hips touched my thighs, she made this little forward rock that pushed my cock a little deeper inside her.

The sight of Mrs. Lieu's small body impaled on my cock and the feeling of her tight passage clamped around my shaft had me ready to cum, but I held on. The sensations were so fantastic I didn't want them to end yet. I also didn't want to take my hands off her breasts. They seemed to have gotten firmer and her nipples were absolutely fantastic. I was loving how she pushed them into my palms, and how she shuddered when I stroked them or pinched them gently.

Suddenly, Mrs. Lieu began to pant and the hand on her clit began rubbing faster. With each stroke, I felt her passage clamp and then unclamp my cock, and with each stroke came the delicious feeling of more wetness streaming over my cock. The clamping sensation got faster, her breath became ragged, and she squeezed my hand tight around her breast.

With a tiny little cry, she began to shake. With another, her body shuddered. With a third, louder than the other two, Mrs. Lieu rocked her hips rapidly over my cock and I felt a flood of wetness stream out around my shaft and down onto my balls. That stream was quickly joined by the spurts of seed that raced through my cock and splashed deep inside her.

As I unconsciously stroked up with my last spurt, Mrs. Lieu eased back down on my chest, buried her face between my neck and shoulder and lay there panting. Her body still trembled with the aftershocks of her orgasm and I could feel her heart pounding against my chest. When my cock softened and slipped out of her, she sighed.

"I guess we do it the same way after all."

I stroked her back, then squeezed her soft cheek.

"Mrs. Lieu, it hasn't been this great for me in a long time though."

She kissed my neck with little nibbling kisses, then whispered, "I think after this, you should just call me Lien."

Well, the next morning was just as fantastic as that night. When Lien laid on her back and opened her thighs, I was a little afraid I might crush her so I stayed up on my arms. She was having none of that, though. Lien wrapped her arms around my back and pulled me down on top of her. The way she rocked her hips up with every stroke pushed my cock so deep inside her it bumped against the end of her passage. She seemed to like that, because she kept trying to get it deeper. I enjoyed the hell out of it. Just before we came, Lien wrapped her legs around my waist for leverage and pushed me so deep my spurts just oozed out around the base of my cock instead of staying inside her.

I got to my desk a little late that morning, and found a man sitting in the chair beside it. He was about my age, though his hair had a few more white strands, and he wore a business suit that didn't hide the bulge under his left arm very well. He stood up when I approached and held out his hand.

"Detective Ross?"

I shook his hand.

"Yes, I'm Max Ross. How can I help you?"

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a standard government issue ID case with a badge.

"I'm Ron Cullens. I'm with...well, can we go outside? I need to be sure no one else can hear what I'm going to tell you."

We stood in the parking lot in front of the precinct. Ron lit a cigarette, then slowly exhaled before speaking.

"Max, my badge says FBI, but I currently work for a government task force you've probably never heard of. It's a joint operation between the CIA, DEA, and the FBI. I'm here because you've found our ghost."

'My murder victim...with the tattoo?"

"Yes. We've had a tickler out on the FBI, NCIC and Military databases to notify us if anyone accessed his prints or files. Your office did, so here I am. You're probably wondering why I'm here though, aren't you? I can't tell you everything. Hell, I don't even know all of it, but I'll tell you as much as I can.

"Roux, as you discovered his identity to be, is a man I've been trying to find since 1969. I was a sergeant in CID then, stationed in Saigon and trying to stop the flow of marijuana and heroin to our troops. Our prime suspect was a French national named Henri Girard. We almost had enough evidence to haul his ass in when he turned up dead. A year after that, we started getting intelligence reports about an American involved with the drug trade. No name or description except he called himself 'La Fantome'.

"As time went on, we learned he had connections with both the South and North Vietnamese governments as well as with high ranking people in countries all the way to Afganistan. Those connections were the same connections Girard had established over the years after World War II. We figured this American had killed Girard and taken over his business, and we were correct. Our investigation indicated Roux learned about Girard during his visit to LBJ, and had met him on leave in Saigon. Girard apparently liked Roux, and arranged to pick him up the day he walked away from his squad.

"The CIA put a team together for us from two of their locals. They were a woman who spoke Vietnamese, English and French, and posing as her husband, one of their best men from 1st ARVN. The man was supposed to be a civilian from Saigon who wanted to replace the dealer we'd arrested a week before. Some of our intelligence indicated La Fantome had a thing for Vietnamese women. The woman was suppose to be a translator if one was required, but was really there to make the deal a little sweeter if that's what he wanted.

"After a month of talking to people, they found him, or rather, he found them, in Hue. While our man and La Fantome talked, the woman was able to get two pictures of him with a camera she had hidden in a handbag the CIA made for her. Things were going well, they thought. La Fantome instructed them to come back the next day with money.

"That night, our guy got his throat cut. The woman was in an adjoining room, heard the struggle, and ran. She was a smart girl. She made it back to Saigon even though the word on the street was that La Fantome had several men out looking for her.

"We spent a month comparing those two pictures with pictures of every American known to be in Vietnam before we found him. He was listed as missing in action, and we decided to leave it that way.

"The CIA and later, the DEA, have been following his movements since, but the guy is smart. He works only through three very trusted individuals. Those three are trusted because he pays them well and because they know the penalty for not being loyal. Nobody else who's ever seen him is still alive...except that woman agent. You know her as Lieu Thi Lien, the name the CIA gave her when they evacuated her and her brother's family to California.

I was standing there with my mouth open as he lit another cigarette.

"We think Roux was intending to come back to the States to live out the rest of his life. There was only one person here who could identify him, and he couldn't take the risk. His intelligence network is just as good as ours, we suspect including some eyes in the CIA and DEA, so he was able to find her. I don't know who killed him, but if they hadn't, you'd have found Mrs. Lieu in that alley instead of him.

I thought a minute and then some things fell into place. The knife Mrs. Mihn had been using when I interviewed her was about the right size, and I'd never been able to talk to her husband.