The Order
Back in Seoul, Ki-jo went the next day to see Frank at the United States Information Service.
He had come for a single purpose: to track down an order issued in 1945 by the United States Army Military Government in Korea.
When Ki-jo stepped into the office, Frank greeted him with a teasing lilt.
"Lee, good to see you. All quiet these days?"
Ever since pulling Ki-jo out of the Counterintelligence Corps, Frank had been keeping an eye on him. He had even sent the Corps word that the American Embassy was vouching for the man, and that they were to leave him alone. Ki-jo had favors of his own to ask, but he was doing his best to keep them few.
"Nothing worth mentioning."
"Hey, Lee. If you haven't got a favor to ask, then relax and say so. It's fine."
Frank, quick to read a room, didn't wait to be told.
"I'm looking for a document."
"A document?"
Ki-jo laid out the tangle with Korea Shipping Corporation, and Frank nodded.
"So you mean to square Korea Shipping's demand by bringing them a ship out of Japan. That it?"
"That's right, Frankie."
"Good. Shouldn't be hard. Let's see... the Military Government was under the Tenth Army, and it's been dissolved now..."
Frank turned over the question of who might still be holding the order. The American military government that had ruled Korea was dissolved in 1948, and the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers, which had ruled Japan, vanished in 1952. Both the authority that had given the order and the authority that had carried it out were gone.
"Better if someone had pushed this before 1952. We're a little late. Finding the paper is going to take a bit longer."
Frank twirled his pen and let out a small groan.
"When it comes to finding documents, isn't the CIA the best there is?"
Ki-jo's shamelessness made Frank laugh. He didn't mind the brazen streak. They were close enough for it, and the request wasn't simply about lining Ki-jo's own pockets. Whatever the motive, the man was trying to bring one ship home to a poor country, and all it would take to help him was finding a single sheet of paper.
"All right... Lee. Say I find it for you. You walk into Japan with that document, and you think they'll just hand the ship over?"
"With the order in hand, I think I can put a deal on the table."
What Ki-jo was after was the order issued under United States Army Military Government Ordinance No. 33, promulgated in October 1945. Ordinance 33 declared every vessel and every cargo in Korean waters the property of the Military Government. The moment the law passed, ships that had fled those waters for Japan were hauled back in. It did no good for Japanese companies, captains, and crews to resist. The ships were taken by force.
Even without that ordinance, other decrees had already placed every Japanese company in Korea under Military Government ownership. The Chosen Yusen in which Kim Yong-ju had invested was therefore Military Government property, and any ship belonging to Chosen Yusen remained Military Government property no matter where in the world it happened to be. On that legal footing, the Military Government had carried out the recovery through SCAP—the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers—in Japan. Under that order, five ships that had belonged to Chosen Yusen came home to Korea. Exactly one stayed behind: a modern vessel of 4,880 tons, launched at the Harima shipyard on MacArthur's orders.
"But listen. By your account, the reason that freighter never came back is an order from General MacArthur."
"That's right."
"MacArthur was the head of both the Military Government in Korea and SCAP in Japan. Doesn't his order outrank the other? The deal might not get off the ground at all."
The thought had already occurred to Ki-jo.
"I think the order to return the freighter sits higher. I take the Military Government's order to be a permanent one."
His logic ran like this. If the Military Government's order had also crossed MacArthur's desk, then it was MacArthur's order as well. What ranked one above the other was the character of the two commands. If the Military Government's was a permanent order, and MacArthur's instruction to leave a single ship where it was had been only temporary, then once the grounds for that temporary order fell away, the permanent order had to be obeyed.
"Hm... now that I hear it, that tracks. What matters is which of the two is the permanent order."
"Exactly."
"All right. Let's grant, as you say, that the permanent order is the Military Government's. What do you do next?"
Frank was curious. Ki-jo's logic was airtight, and the justification, at least, was more than sufficient. In practice, though, forcibly taking a privately owned ship from one country into another was another matter entirely.
"I'll tell you that when it succeeds."
Ki-jo turned cagey, and Frank was thrown.
"Hey, Lee. You're really going to play it like this? We're on the same side."
"Frankie, the more curious you are, the faster you'll find that document for me, won't you?"
Needled by the joke, Frank tossed out a guess of his own.
"You're not planning to sue the company that owns the ship, are you?"
"Now that's a good idea."
Ki-jo's innocent face only made it worse. Frank was on fire with frustration.
"Fine. You've got the justification, and you've got grounds for a suit. But you can't be the one who brings it."
"True."
"So the plaintiff would be Korea Shipping. Chosen Yusen is its predecessor."
"Well. Legally, yes—Korea Shipping. But do you think a Japanese company would lose any sleep over a lawsuit from a Korean firm?"
Frank turned it over and had to admit the point. Then what move was left?
"Lee, let's drop the twenty questions. Come clean."
To the impatient American, Ki-jo said only this.
"I'll tell you after it succeeds. For now, everything is still just a possibility."
"What's the harm in counting the chicks while you're still looking at the eggs? It's only the two of us. Let's talk it through on the most optimistic assumptions we can manage."
Frank coaxed him gently, but Ki-jo didn't bite.
"There's a Korean saying. Don't drink the kimchi broth first."
"Kimchi broth? You mean that stew you boil with kimchi in it? What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that if you act too sure of yourself, your luck runs off."
At that, Frank gave up. When a close-mouthed Korean by the name of Lee Ki-jo said he would explain later, he would explain only once the thing was actually done.
"All right, Lee. It stings, but I'll live with it."
"I'm sorry, Frankie. Call me when you find the document."
"Of course."
They rose from their seats. Frank walked him out, still regretting it.
"Lee, if you need help in Japan, say the word. The CIA's thick on the ground there, too."
"I have an excellent negotiator. Thank you, but I won't need any help beyond this."
That only pricked Frank's curiosity all over again.
"And who is this negotiator?"
"I'll tell you who, once the job succeeds."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Lee! You're really doing this?"
Ki-jo left the USIS having set Frank burning to know just how he meant to pull the thing off.
From the USIS, Ki-jo headed for the International Hotel.
The information had come from Kim Yong-ju; the document, once found, would come from Frank. With the facts and the legal footing secured, it was time to secure the men.
Park Hee-jun of AMKO Tungsten and Cho Choong-hoon were waiting at the International Hotel. The two had been talking over coffee, and they rose to greet him warmly when he came in.
"So the American Embassy said they'd find the document?"
Hee-jun asked.
"Yes. I think they'll have it soon."
"Good. Roberts's lawyer in the States will be in Tokyo in two days."
He had already sketched the broad strategy for both of them.
"And I put a word through to Osano Kenji, just as you asked."
"Thank you, hyungnim."
Osano Kenji was the heart of Cho Choong-hoon's network in Japan—the very man who would drive the money politics of 1970s Japan, his influence reaching all the way to the prime minister.
"But why are you after that politician, Tanaka Kakuei?"
Ki-jo had asked Choong-hoon for Tanaka as well as for Osano.
"Because I think he'll be useful."
"You do? I looked into him. Tanaka's already been mixed up in graft—he nearly went to prison. Where money's concerned, he looks dirty."
Choong-hoon, who had checked on the man in advance, passed along his misgivings.
"Even so, I need him."
Ki-jo smiled. No one yet knew that this Tanaka Kakuei would rise all the way to prime minister of Japan. For the moment he was a politician of no particular account and, just as Choong-hoon feared, a man who was dirty where money was concerned. He would take the premiership in 1972 and step down two years later, and even then the trouble would be political funds. After he left office the famous Lockheed scandal would come to light, and he would be arrested on charges of taking bribes in a defense corruption case. Still, as the old saying had it, even filth had its use in the medicine chest. A man like that could be put to work.
Choong-hoon, plainly unfond of the name, cocked his head and asked again.
"So I just tell Mr. Osano to bring that one man?"
"Yes. He's all I need."
"All right. You must have your reasons for wanting him. But don't I need to go to Japan myself? I'll have to introduce you to Mr. Osano."
Before Ki-jo could even ask, Cho Choong-hoon offered his help.
"If you would, I'd be grateful."
"Ha—I'd like to see Kenji myself. I've been so busy I haven't even been in touch."
Cho Choong-hoon and Osano Kenji had grown close because they were alike in so many ways. Neither had finished high school. Both were self-made businessmen, and both had a gift for being on the inside of everything. Both, too, had made their living in transport.
"I'm sorry to be putting the two of you to so much trouble on my account."
At that, both men waved him off, shaking their heads.
"What are you saying? Cheongsan Shipping handles AMKO Tungsten's logistics. If you trace it back, isn't some of the responsibility for all this mine?"
When he exported tungsten, Park Hee-jun had wanted a Korean line to carry it rather than a Japanese or American one, and that was why Ki-jo had gone into shipping in the first place. True to a man of the fifties, Hee-jun wanted Korean companies to be capable of anything. People in Korea in those years carried a deep sorrow—they were citizens of a country that had been a Japanese colony and then reduced to ash by war—and when they managed to do what the advanced nations did, the joy was enormous. However small the thing, proving that they could do it too left everyone proud.
Not to be outdone, Choong-hoon spoke up.
"Look, Ki-jo. On land I may be a cut below you, but at sea I'm sure of myself."
"Me, above you, hyungnim? I wouldn't hear of it."
"Hey, hey. No need to play modest. It's a plain fact that Cheongsan stands above Hanjin. But I came up a sailor. My dream is to found Hanjin Shipping and run the finest line in the Republic of Korea."
Ki-jo nodded.
"One of these days I'm going to take over Korea Shipping. Wouldn't it be nice if there was a ship waiting there before I do? Ha ha ha."
Cho Choong-hoon meant to fulfill, in this life as well, the dream he had achieved in the history he remembered. It was like him—an enterprising businessman of the first generation. For now his company was nothing more than a subcontractor to Cheongsan Transport, but he had not let go of the larger dream.
"When you move to acquire Korea Shipping, hyungnim, I'll help you."
"Once I push out to sea, it won't be like it is on land, you know. Cheongsan Shipping might take a real blow. Down deep, I'm a man of the sea!"
At the swagger, half in jest, Ki-jo and Hee-jun laughed together. Choong-hoon was a man from whom a positive energy seemed to pour.
The three of them talked through what would have to be done once they reached Japan.
Ki-jo's second business trip overseas was about to begin.