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“One Day in Hanoi” by Thomas “Faux” Steele
Set in the bustling metropolis of 1920s Hanoi, a French detective on vacation must explore the city in search of his stolen wallet.
Today’s story is “One Day in Hanoi” by Thomas “Faux” Steele. Faux is a Virginian author who enjoys writing in many genres, including romance, erotica, science fiction, and fantasy. He’s an arctic fox whose works have been published in numerous conbooks and anthologies including FANG 7, Boldly Going Forward, and the upcoming anthology The Furry Game Show Network, distributed by Weasel Press. You can find more of his work on FurAffinity.
Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.
Transcript
You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,
Speaker:and Today’s story is
Speaker:“One Day in Hanoi”
Speaker:by Thomas “Faux” Steele. Faux
Speaker:is a Virginian author who enjoys writing in many genres,
Speaker:including romance,
Speaker:erotica, science fiction, and fantasy.
Speaker:He’s an arctic fox whose works have been published in numerous conbooks and anthologies
Speaker:including FANG 7,
Speaker:Boldly Going Forward,
Speaker:and the upcoming anthology
Speaker:The Furry Game Show Network, distributed by Weasel Press.
Speaker:You can find more of his work
Speaker:on FurAffinity. Please enjoy:
Speaker:“One Day in Hanoi”
Speaker:by Thomas “Faux” Steele
Speaker:“Nothing like a vacation to put the mind at ease, right Jacq?”
Speaker:The stocky otter kicks back in the velvet smoking chair,
Speaker:his heavy patent-leather boots clinking against the railing.
Speaker:I gaze down at the bustling metropolis
Speaker:of Hanoi, my feathers ruffling in the stiff breeze.
Speaker:Being a blue jay is a disadvantage in the natural insulation department.
Speaker:Feathers are far more unruly in tempestuous weather than fur.
Speaker:We’re cruising at an altitude of two-hundred meters,
Speaker:low enough to enjoy the crisp air streaming past the main cabin.
Speaker:Misha flips a paw nonchalantly
Speaker:as a waiter hands him an imported cigar.
Speaker:“When you suggested a little jaunt to escape the confines of my office, I didn’t expect to end up halfway around the world!”
Speaker:I raise my voice enough to carry above the ambient roar of the engines.
Speaker:Though I shield my lighter against the high winds, my attempts to set my cigarette ablaze are futile.
Speaker:Rather than wear down my flint, I sigh and slide the pack of Gauloises back into my inside jacket pocket.
Speaker:“Is that not the point of a vacation?
Speaker:To see something new?” Misha’s
Speaker:heavy-duty Soviet officer’s lighter ignites his cigar in an instant.
Speaker:He takes a deep puff,
Speaker:the smoke drifting lazily from his nostrils.
Speaker:“It is not every year that I get a generous travel allowance.
Speaker:These opportunities must be enjoyed when they arise.”
Speaker:The aeroport welcomes us as we approach the heart of the city.
Speaker:A modern Colossus of Rhodes,
Speaker:the statue of Marianne stands nearly one-hundred fifty meters high.
Speaker:The grand spear held aloft in her right paw beckons to us,
Speaker:forming a docking point for arriving airships.
Speaker:The olive branch in her left paw
Speaker:is dotted with windows to allow visitors a panoramic view
Speaker:of Hoàn Kiếm Lake.
Speaker:Her finely sculpted visage is warm but stern,
Speaker:the face of a nation
Speaker:that endured the Great War
Speaker:and emerged triumphant.
Speaker:The French Quarter surrounds Marianne,
Speaker:an expanse of wide,
Speaker:tree-lined avenues bounded by yellow-painted administrative buildings.
Speaker:Interspersed throughout are fashionable hotels and residences
Speaker:constructed in the Arts Décoratifs
Speaker:style. The older buildings from the glory days of the Nguyễn Dynasty have largely been relocated.
Speaker:Aside from a few historical landmarks,
Speaker:they are victims of the lust for modernity that has swept through French Indochina.
Speaker:“We appear to have arrived,”
Speaker:I mutter. My claws clink against the bright chrome railing as passengers queue to disembark from the skybridge.
Speaker:“Bah! To think I just lit my cigar!”
Speaker:Misha snuffs it out and returns it to his case.
Speaker:A loud thunk tells me the electromagnetic docking clamps have engaged.
Speaker:“Thank you for traveling with Air Orient.
Speaker:Please disembark in an orderly fashion.
Speaker:We hope you enjoy your stay in the capital
Speaker:of one-thousand years of civilization,”
Speaker:announces a voice on the loudspeaker.
Speaker:“Why not save your cigar for the hotel?
Speaker:The altitude ruins the flavor, if you ask me.”
Speaker:I open the door of the smoking lounge,
Speaker:gesturing for Misha to lead the way.
Speaker:Carpetbags grasped in our paws,
Speaker:we head directly to the exit.
Speaker:The interior of the zeppelin exudes opulence,
Speaker:belying its status as the most luxurious way to crisscross the globe.
Speaker:The carpet is plush as that of a Rolls-Royce,
Speaker:while the walls are paneled with the finest mahogany.
Speaker:Our fellow passengers are dressed sharply
Speaker:in the latest fashions of the Faubourg Saint-Honoré district.
Speaker:A cavernous elevator paneled in stainless steel awaits to escort us to the ground.
Speaker:With a slight nod of acknowledgement,
Speaker:the blue-suited elevator operator pulls the protective door closed.
Speaker:We begin our descent,
Speaker:the panoramic glass window making up the outer wall giving us a different perspective of the city.
Speaker:A distinctive boundary is apparent
Speaker:where the French Quarter stands opposite the Old Quarter,
Speaker:a central canal filled with
Speaker:heavily-laden wooden boats separating them.
Speaker:As my gaze passes to the Old Quarter, the ruler-straight avenues dissolve
Speaker:into an organic arrangement of winding streets
Speaker:and narrow alleys.
Speaker:The buildings are squat,
Speaker:two or three stories each,
Speaker:with flickering neon signage tempting pedestrians to sample the wares of ground-floor shops.
Speaker:To take part in that bustling commerce is a
Speaker:thrilling thought.
Speaker:I cannot wait to purchase some oriental souvenirs to take back to Paris.
Speaker:It takes but a few minutes for the elevator to halt in the terminal.
Speaker:While there is order in the line for passport control,
Speaker:the bustle of the city sweeps over us the moment we step through the turnstiles into the central terminal area.
Speaker:It feels just like Bastille Day after my Uncle Louis has consumed far too much cognac.
Speaker:“Taxi ? Taxi ? Tu veux un taxi ?” “Cartes
Speaker:postales ! Tu dois en acheter dix !” “Pho ! Chaud et fraîchement cuisiné !”
Speaker:Misha chuckles, re-lighting his cigar.
Speaker:“Now this is a capitalist paradise.
Speaker:There isn’t a line to purchase anything in sight!”
Speaker:He absentmindedly wanders over to a street seller preparing a coffee drink on a rickety bamboo cart.
Speaker:In the street, steam-powered scooters whizz about,
Speaker:navigating cobblestone avenues as they dodge a continuous stream of pedestrians who appear
Speaker:to cross as they please.
Speaker:The single car I spot,
Speaker:a Renault, creeps along at a glacial pace.
Speaker:Road laws here appear a great deal more flexible than in France.
Speaker:“Egg coffee?” Misha offers me a paper cup.
Speaker:“I can’t believe it was only five cents.”
Speaker:He takes a sip and grimaces.
Speaker:“Be forewarned,
Speaker:it is strong.” “What’s the exchange rate with the ruble?”
Speaker:I take a sip, enjoying the warm sweetness of the top layer of condensed milk before I break through to the bitter coffee underneath.
Speaker:A rush of warmth
Speaker:shoots down my spine as I shudder.
Speaker:Strong coffee indeed. “Two and a half rubles to the piastre,” Misha responds,
Speaker:downing the rest in one gulp.
Speaker:“Money seems to go quite far here.”
Speaker:He eyes a bottle of Vodka Hanoi held aloft by a peddler to my right.
Speaker:“Before we get too engrossed in shopping, we should probably drop our luggage off.
Speaker:You’re the one who planned this trip.
Speaker:How are we getting to the hotel?”
Speaker:“Oh, yes, the hotel!”
Speaker:Misha fishes around in his pocket.
Speaker:“I took the liberty of having my motorcycle fetched from Moscow.
Speaker:It seems everyone here prefers two-wheeled transportation.”
Speaker:“Your bike, comrade.”
Speaker:A golden jackal dressed in the austere gray uniform of the Soviet Union Zeppelin Corporation
Speaker:materializes in front of us,
Speaker:dangling a set of keys from his index claw.
Speaker:As the keys turn,
Speaker:I notice an enamel hammer and sickle adorning the keychain.
Speaker:“The carburetor has been disassembled and cleaned
Speaker:and a fresh headlight installed, per your request.”
Speaker:“Thank you, comrade.”
Speaker:Misha’s bike is a sturdy-looking vehicle with an attached sidecar,
Speaker:painted an odd shade of mustard yellow.
Speaker:Misha flips him a silver ruble.
Speaker:“Buy yourself a drink!”
Speaker:Misha lashes our suitcases to the rear luggage rack with twine
Speaker:and then fires up the internal combustion engine.
Speaker:It has a raw character that steam power lacks;
Speaker:the idle resonating with an uneven thrum.
Speaker:My otter revs the motor it a few times,
Speaker:his grin widening as bursts of flame spit from the twin exhaust pipes.
Speaker:“What do you think, Jacq?
Speaker:It just recently rolled off the line at the Number Seven Autocycle Factory.
Speaker:It’s a prototype, but I think it’s ready for road usage.”
Speaker:“Looks like a million francs.”
Speaker:I squat down to examine the sleek turbocharger on the side of the engine,
Speaker:styled to look like a nautilus shell.
Speaker:The craftsmanship is impeccable.
Speaker:“Hey, you! Get away from him!”
Speaker:I jerk upward, my back pocket suddenly feeling substantially lighter.
Speaker:A leopard bares his yellowed canines at me as he retreats,
Speaker:my wallet clutched tightly in his paw.
Speaker:Without a moment of pause,
Speaker:he leaps onto the back of a waiting scooter.
Speaker:The driver takes off,
Speaker:racing down the bustling street.
Speaker:“After him! Don’t let him get away with this!”
Speaker:I grasp Misha’s shoulder and use the momentum to swing myself into the sidecar.
Speaker:“Go!” The engine snarls as Misha engages first gear.
Speaker:We shoot forward,
Speaker:narrowly avoiding plowing over a group of well-dressed pandas crossing the street.
Speaker:Ahead, I pick out the offender’s scooter,
Speaker:weaving through traffic with the typical recklessness of a criminal.
Speaker:Misha shifts gears to pick up speed.
Speaker:We’re gaining on them.
Speaker:“Damn it!” Misha slams on the brakes and tilts us hard to the right to avoid plowing through a team of rice field rats moving an enormous wardrobe.
Speaker:The margin by which we miss them
Speaker:is so narrow that I can count the whiskers on the nearest rat’s muzzle.
Speaker:Though Misha recovers,
Speaker:we lose precious time.
Speaker:Up ahead, we spot the scooter
Speaker:abandoned in a puddle,
Speaker:the rear wheel still idly spinning.
Speaker:There’s no trace of the thieves.
Speaker:I look down a narrow alley and shake my head at the densely packed mass of bodies.
Speaker:Zut. *** I sip a fresh draft beer and stare out at the neon city.
Speaker:The early visitors to the Night Market flow down the street like the tributaries of the Mekong River.
Speaker:The Market is just a few blocks away and the night is young, with patrons thronging the streets
Speaker:in search of a bargain.
Speaker:Everyone has surely brought their best negotiating skills this evening.
Speaker:The metal of a chair leg scrapes against the marble floor of the patio,
Speaker:disrupting my idle thoughts.
Speaker:“I am sorry about your wallet.
Speaker:Here-” Misha offers me a pinkish fruit with green,
Speaker:leaflike tips on the flesh.
Speaker:“Try this. It’s delicious.”
Speaker:“Did you stop by the Night Market on your stroll?”
Speaker:I retrieve my trusty penknife and slice into the fruit,
Speaker:revealing firm whiteish flesh speckled with black seeds.
Speaker:It reminds me of a dalmatian’s coat.
Speaker:“It’s certainly not the GUM department store in Red Square, but... ah!
Speaker:Look at this!” Misha pulls out a small wooden board with mother-of-pearl inlay.
Speaker:It depicts a peaceful forest under a brilliant full moon.
Speaker:“Isn’t it beautiful?
Speaker:There was an entire stall of these.
Speaker:I cannot wait to hang it in my apartment.”
Speaker:I nod, admiring the piece, the lacquer reflecting the delicate moonlight.
Speaker:“It certainly makes a statement.”
Speaker:“Oh, but that is not all!”
Speaker:Misha sets a black leather wallet on the table.
Speaker:The exterior is decorated with exquisite leatherwork,
Speaker:many twisting strands of leather tooled together
Speaker:to form the design of a feral blue jay.
Speaker:“Oh Misha.” I lean over to rest my head on the soft wool of his evening coat.
Speaker:His scent is warm and inviting,
Speaker:a mix of leather,
Speaker:tobacco, and unburnt petrol,
Speaker:with just a touch of musk underlying it all.
Speaker:“It’s beautiful. But my distress never was about the wallet itself.” “Hmm?”
Speaker:Misha wraps a strong arm around me,
Speaker:raising an eyebrow.
Speaker:“What do you mean?”
Speaker:“I kept a gold coin in that wallet from when my great-great-great-great grandfather personally supervised the treasury of Napoléon.”
Speaker:I chuckle. “It was never about the wallet itself;
Speaker:I purchased it on sale for two francs at Au Bon Marché.
Speaker:I only regret the loss of that coin.”
Speaker:“Then it is imperative that we get that coin back!”
Speaker:Misha gives me a squeeze.
Speaker:“You are the detective, Inspector LeBleu.
Speaker:How do we go about this mission?”
Speaker:“We must first make contact with the criminal underground of Hanoi.
Speaker:The thief was of a distinctive species.
Speaker:Perhaps by asking around we’ll find someone who knows him, or knows of his whereabouts.”
Speaker:I spring up with excitement.
Speaker:“Let’s head to a gambling parlor.
Speaker:I’m sure there will be no shortage of shady characters there.”
Speaker:Misha nods, a gleam in his eye.
Speaker:“I’ll drive.” *** The Sapphire Dragon gaming parlor is in the western end of Hanoi,
Speaker:away from the Red River and French Quarter.
Speaker:It’s an uneventful twenty-minute motorcycle from our hotel.
Speaker:Housed in an unadorned two-story building,
Speaker:I wouldn’t give it a second look if I passed by on the street.
Speaker:Only the neon sign
Speaker:—a Chinese dragon curling around a sapphire
Speaker:—hints that there is more to this place than meets the eye.
Speaker:A quick telephone call to the local police led us here.
Speaker:If there is a thief afoot,
Speaker:we should be able to discover his whereabouts within.
Speaker:Following three quick knocks on the door,
Speaker:the Judas gate opens.
Speaker:Luminous green eyes stare at me
Speaker:with practiced inscrutability. “Quel est le mot de passe ?” “Le dragon de saphir garde le trésor d'or.” The slat clicks shut
Speaker:like the bolt action
Speaker:of a rifle. The door creaks inwards,
Speaker:revealing a foyer dimly lit with electric lanterns.
Speaker:Misha strides in confidently.
Speaker:He’s dressed simply
Speaker:in American-style denim jeans
Speaker:and an austere wool jacket.
Speaker:It’s the inconspicuous outfit of a traveler.
Speaker:The interior is packed,
Speaker:not an inch left wasted.
Speaker:Rows of one-armed bandit machines fill most of the available space,
Speaker:patrons clicking away with the rhythm of practiced typists
Speaker:in the hope that Lady Luck grants them her favor.
Speaker:A bar stretches out along the far wall.
Speaker:Filling whatever floor remains
Speaker:are tables for playing Baccarat.
Speaker:Sharp-eyed hostesses
Speaker:weave through the mayhem on the floor,
Speaker:ensuring no thirst goes unquenched.
Speaker:Misha immediately heads to one of the tables.
Speaker:I shoot him a questioning glance.
Speaker:“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Speaker:He nods. “I used to play in the trenches of the Eastern Front with my fellow soldiers.”
Speaker:He smirks. “I lost a lot of money at first, but by the time Bolsheviks withdrew from the Great War,
Speaker:I’d made enough to purchase my first apartment.
Speaker:I can handle myself.”
Speaker:Misha casually inserts himself into a game at the lone table with room to spare.
Speaker:I observe casually from the bar, sipping on a Soixante-Quinze.
Speaker:It’s strong and bittersweet, just like this vacation.
Speaker:I must admit though,
Speaker:this is the most fun I’ve had in some time.
Speaker:While I’m certainly unhappy to have lost my treasured coin,
Speaker:there’s no better way to get to know a city than conducting an investigation within in.
Speaker:As befits an officer,
Speaker:Misha’s composure under pressure is unflappable.
Speaker:After a few hands,
Speaker:he’s up a considerable sum.
Speaker:He strikes up a conversation with the tiger beside him,
Speaker:a muscular beast close to double his size.
Speaker:A wicked scar adorns his muzzle,
Speaker:the mark of a long-ago battle.
Speaker:Over the next half hour or so,
Speaker:Misha returns some of his winnings to the other players to avoid arousing too much suspicion.
Speaker:Once his stack of bills appears more reasonable,
Speaker:he bids the other players adieu
Speaker:and rejoins me. He orders a vodka and Coca
Speaker:-Cola as he tucks the winnings into his front pockets.
Speaker:“Did you find out anything about the thief?”
Speaker:I polish off my cocktail
Speaker:and debate ordering a second as I gaze at the row of bottles
Speaker:wantonly arranged on polished rosewood shelves in front of me.
Speaker:The mirrored backsplash hasn’t been cleaned in some time,
Speaker:distorting the reflection into a rainbow cacophony.
Speaker:“I did indeed. From the description I gave, the thief is one Thomas Nguyen.
Speaker:He’s with the gang.
Speaker:I managed to learn that their hideout
Speaker:is at 115 Rue de Rosiers in the French Quarter.”
Speaker:“They must do a profitable business to afford the rent.”
Speaker:I order myself a gin and tonic.
Speaker:The quinine can’t hurt in this environment.
Speaker:“Anything remarkable about
Speaker:him?” “The tiger didn’t mention anything. Monsieur Nguyen is a street thug that preys on unsuspecting tourists.
Speaker:I’m sure there’s a brisk business in snatching purses and wallets.”
Speaker:Misha chuckles. “I’ll get my revolver and we’ll address this issue quickly.”
Speaker:“Not so fast, mon ami.
Speaker:This isn’t Paris.”
Speaker:I shake my head. “We cannot simply kick down his front door and go in with guns drawn.
Speaker:We do not have the authority of the law on our side.
Speaker:side.” “Authority of the law, eh?
Speaker:That gives me an idea.”
Speaker:Misha sets down his drink.
Speaker:“Why don’t you take a relaxing bath back at the hotel?
Speaker:There’s something I must do before we may Monsieur Nguyen a visit.”
Speaker:Misha deposits a light kiss on my cheek
Speaker:and then vanishes the crowd. ***
Speaker:At the hotel, I bury myself in bubbles until my beak looks like Mont Blanc breaking through the clouds.
Speaker:This vacation has not begun on the relaxing note I had hoped for.
Speaker:Still, there is abundant hot water, a luxury I cannot find often enough during my travels…or
Speaker:even at my apartment.
Speaker:“Jacq?” I run a claw over my face to brush away enough foam to see properly
Speaker:and then blink a few times until Misha comes into focus.
Speaker:I must have drifted off in the bath.
Speaker:“Yes, mon chou?” “Let’s take a stroll.
Speaker:I believe the thieves’ hideout is just a few blocks from here.”
Speaker:“Now?” I yawn deeply, clicking my beak.
Speaker:“What time is it anyway?”
Speaker:“Time to take care of this ugly business so that we can enjoy the rest of our vacation!”
Speaker:Misha grins. “Or nine o’clock, to be more precise.”
Speaker:“Do you have a plan?”
Speaker:Misha chuckles, taking a knee beside the tub
Speaker:and clearing the bubbles from my shoulders.
Speaker:Forming his webbed paws into scoops,
Speaker:he dribbles water over my feathers,
Speaker:rinsing away the silky, sandalwood-scented shampoo.
Speaker:“What I’ve realized is that there is a way to acquire the authority of the law.”
Speaker:I briefly close my eyes
Speaker:as rivulets of water trickle down my cheek feathers.
Speaker:“How so? To do that, you would need–”
Speaker:“I did a bit of shopping.
Speaker:Keep your eyes closed for a moment. I want to surprise you.”
Speaker:Misha’s long claws click against the marble tile.
Speaker:The bathroom door slams shut.
Speaker:“You can open them now.”
Speaker:Before me are the elements of a plan equal that is equal parts brilliant
Speaker:and ridiculous. Two uniform jackets with bright brass buttons and matching, flat-topped hats
Speaker:hang on the back of the door.
Speaker:A thick, petro-leather strap runs shoulder to hip across the front of each jacket,
Speaker:securing a holder meant for a police-issue revolver.
Speaker:Hefty silver badges
Speaker:are pinned to the breast pocket flaps,
Speaker:proudly proclaiming:
Speaker:“Police de l'Indochine Française.”
Speaker:“You assembled all this in two hours?
Speaker:That must’ve cost a– ” “Small fortune,
Speaker:which is coincidently is
Speaker:precisely what I won at the Baccarat table.”
Speaker:Misha shoots me a sly grin.
Speaker:“I rushed over to the tailor and the silversmith after leaving you at the Sapphire Dragon.
Speaker:It’s amazing the level of service a large stack of notes upon the counter facilitates.”
Speaker:“So, I suppose we will have the authority of the law on our side.”
Speaker:I nod approvingly.
Speaker:Misha grabs a towel off the counter next to the bath,
Speaker:gesturing for me to stand.
Speaker:He begins drying me off as soon as I step onto the heavy cotton bathmat,
Speaker:applying gentle pressure to avoid accidently plucking a feather.
Speaker:“I must say, your attention to detail is impeccable,”
Speaker:I mutter, holding one of the badges up to the light as Misha tosses aside the towel.
Speaker:“See that it fits properly.
Speaker:I did some guesswork with measurements since so few tailors cater to avians.
Speaker:I had your jacket sewn with extra room to accommodate your plumage.”
Speaker:Misha hands me the taller of the two uniform
Speaker:and heads into the bedroom.
Speaker:I grab a cotton undergarment from beside the sink
Speaker:before stepping into the guise of a policeman.
Speaker:I admire myself in the mirror
Speaker:as I button up the jacket.
Speaker:My blue feathers stand out against the tan fabric of the body,
Speaker:while the flat-topped cap covers my crest to give me a clean-cut appearance.
Speaker:I haven’t looked this sharp since the day I graduated from the national police academy
Speaker:in Roubaix. “Well Jacq?
Speaker:How’s the fit?” Misha wraps an arm around my shoulders.
Speaker:He wears the uniform with an air of natural command.
Speaker:It’s a departure from the deep blue of a Soviet officer’s dress,
Speaker:but the color complements his creamy brown fur.
Speaker:“It fits better than my outfit at home!”
Speaker:I wink. “You have an
Speaker:excellent eye, darling.”
Speaker:I head back to the bedroom to grab my trusty St. Etienne revolver off the nightstand
Speaker:and slot it into the waiting holster.
Speaker:The familiar weight produces a swell of confidence in my chest.
Speaker:“Well? Shall we go?”
Speaker:Misha gestures towards the door.
Speaker:“Let’s settle this matter before dinner.
Speaker:I don’t want anything getting in the way of a romantic evening with my boyfriend.” “Bien sur.
Speaker:Have you practiced your French? Or shall I do the talking?”
Speaker:I give him a cheeky peck on the muzzle. “Petit oiseau, ma français est parfait !” “Mon français, mon petit chéri,”
Speaker:I say with a chuckle. “Don’t forget,
Speaker:the gender must agree!”
Speaker:Misha rolls his eyes.
Speaker:“You know, in Russian you can tell these things by the way words are spelled.
Speaker:We don’t pick the genders of our nouns out of a hat.”
Speaker:“I will have you know we have a board of extremely knowledgeable old farts determining whether it is
Speaker:monsieur pencil or madame eraser, merci beaucoup!”
Speaker:I open the door to the hall,
Speaker:gesturing for Misha to lead.
Speaker:“Well aren’t you bourgeois.”
Speaker:He covers the short distance between our room and the elevator in a few strides. “Perhaps
Speaker:your country needs a revolution to seize the means of grammar production.”
Speaker:Ding! The elevator arrives,
Speaker:decorated opulently with sua wood inlaid with semiprecious stones in geometric reliefs.
Speaker:I stare a glittering star formed of dozens of pieces of yellow topaz
Speaker:until we reach the lobby.
Speaker:It’s a relaxing walk to the thieves’ base of operations
Speaker:as we suck on fruity hard candy pinched from a bowl at the bell desk.
Speaker:The crowds have begun to thin out,
Speaker:allowing us to enjoy the refreshing night atmosphere in relative peace.
Speaker:Misha buys a bahn mi from a sidewalk vendor,
Speaker:breaking the crispy baguette in two and handing me half.
Speaker:I nod appreciatively.
Speaker:The pâté in the middle fortunately turns out to be pork
Speaker:and not foie gras. As I finish my last bite,
Speaker:Misha pauses and turns.
Speaker:“Here it is.” The structure is typical of the French Quarter,
Speaker:a two-story townhome with a small, disheveled garden growing out front.
Speaker:The exterior is finished with slabs of the white marble
Speaker:mined just outside the city.
Speaker:Motifs of a rising sun
Speaker:captured in chrome
Speaker:flank both sides of the recessed doorway.
Speaker:With the characteristic swagger of authority,
Speaker:Misha approaches the grimy door and raps firmly.
Speaker:The sound echoes throughout the enclosed vestibule
Speaker:with all the melody of a bell forged by an alcoholic.
Speaker:A moment later, the door opens,
Speaker:a familiar pair of canines glowing in the dim light thrown by the naked bulb above us.
Speaker:Strangely, he greets us in English,
Speaker:an action probably intended to annoy the native police.
Speaker:“What do you coppers want?
Speaker:This is the third time this month. Go away and leave me in peace!”
Speaker:The leopard’s effort to slam the door in our faces
Speaker:is blocked by Misha’s patent-leather boot as he wedges it into the narrow space between the door and the frame.
Speaker:Misha snorts with amusement.
Speaker:“We are not here to sell you a vacuum cleaner.
Speaker:Open this door or I will personally kick it down.”
Speaker:There’s a low hiss of anger,
Speaker:but the door creaks inward.
Speaker:“Fine. What is your problem?”
Speaker:“My feathered friend here would like his wallet back,”
Speaker:Misha says, staring down the thief.
Speaker:“You made the unfortunate mistake of stealing from two off-duty police officers returning from their vacation in Paris.”
Speaker:“I know nothing about no wallet.
Speaker:Maybe your friend is stupid and he dropped it down a sewer grate.”
Speaker:I catch a glint as the leopard extends his claws.
Speaker:We may have over-estimated the authority and protection a uniform provides in Hanoi. “Misha!
Speaker:Watch out! The kitty has some claws on him!”
Speaker:Misha steps back just in time
Speaker:as the leopard’s claws slice one of the jacket’s buttons clean off.
Speaker:The suddenly movement throws him off balance,
Speaker:and he falls flat on his tail.
Speaker:“And now I’m annoyed.”
Speaker:Misha cracks his knuckles.as he dusts himself off “Do you
Speaker:know how much it cost to have these made?”
Speaker:I draw my revolver,
Speaker:but the feline wheels around,
Speaker:kicking it from my hand and sending it flying into the street.
Speaker:It skitters against the cobblestones.
Speaker:I catch a few errant sparks out of the corner of my eye before it goes straight into the sewer drain.
Speaker:I take a cautious step backward. Paw
Speaker:-to-paw combat was never my specialty.
Speaker:Hollow bones lack durability in fights.
Speaker:“Return the wallet and we’ll leave you alone,”
Speaker:Misha says, assuming an aggressive stance.
Speaker:“We do not want to subdue you, but we will, if necessary!”
Speaker:“That wallet is mine now!”
Speaker:The leopard lunges,
Speaker:seeking to overwhelm Misha with raw speed.
Speaker:However, Misha is the more experienced fighter.
Speaker:He dodges to the side
Speaker:and drives his elbow into the leopard’s ribs.
Speaker:With a yowl of half pain, half surprise,
Speaker:the leopard goes down as he trips on the raised threshold.
Speaker:“Ah, so you do know what I’m talking about,” Misha mutters.
Speaker:He puts the thief in a headlock as the cat attempts to right himself.
Speaker:“Jacq, get the cuffs and find a police callbox.
Speaker:I’ll interrogate him before the local authorities arrive.”
Speaker:He smiles as he stares the leopard down,
Speaker:muzzle-to-muzzle.
Speaker:“Are you ready to talk about that wallet now, mon ami?” ***
Speaker:“So? Are you satisfied, little bird?”
Speaker:Misha rests his feet on the table,
Speaker:enjoying a 33 Beer from a tall glass bottle.
Speaker:A few noodles occupy the bowl in front of him,
Speaker:the remnants of a hearty serving of pho.
Speaker:I admire the hefty gold piece adorned with the image
Speaker:of a long-dead Emperor before placing it in its rightful place in my new wallet.
Speaker:“Indeed! You know, I think this was more fun than any canned tourist-trap tour.”
Speaker:I chuckle, fidgeting with the unlit cigarette in my right hand.
Speaker:“You make a pretty good police officer, Misha.
Speaker:If you ever want to switch careers,
Speaker:I’m sure I could find you an opening on the force.”
Speaker:Misha laughs heartily.
Speaker:“I’ll drink to that,”
Speaker:he says, as he tips the bottle down his gullet.
Speaker:“So, where to after this?”
Speaker:I drop a few coins on the table to cover the bill
Speaker:and stand up, grabbing my suitcase.
Speaker:“I think I’ve had about enough of Hanoi for one vacation.”
Speaker:“I’ve booked first-class tickets on the overnight train to Huế.
Speaker:We should probably meander over to the station.”
Speaker:Misha checks his wristwatch.
Speaker:“The train leaves in an hour, so there might be time to pick up a souvenir or two.”
Speaker:“Is that so?” I give him an affectionate kiss,
Speaker:grabbing his paw and starting down the street.
Speaker:The boundless horizon
Speaker:of Viet Nam awaits us,
Speaker:filled with possibility.
Speaker:As they say, one day in Hanoi
Speaker:and the world’s your oyster.
Speaker:THE ENDThis was
Speaker:“One Day in Hanoi”
Speaker:by Thomas “Faux” Steele,
Speaker:read for you by Khaki,
Speaker:your faithful fireside companion.
Speaker:You can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker:Thank you for listening
Speaker:to The Voice of Dog
