by Nick Carter
"Yes. Please, can I have water?"
"No. Now listen." Nick sat on the bed. "I want to know about Mark Harrison."
"He-is dead."
"What happened?"
"Rudy killed him. Poison."
"Rudy?"
"Rudy Carpenter."
"Who is he?"
"Albanian, I think He works for the Chinese. The Reds."
"What happened to Harrison's body?"
"In the river. Rudy's Japanese man, Shigeta, disposed of the body. Please. I need a doctor."
"Where do I find Rudy?"
The man told Nick and then pleaded again for a doctor.
"How did Rudy know about Harrison?" Nick asked.
"I… I don't know."
"That's a lie," Nick said harshly. He placed the steel point of the stiletto against the man's neck. "Haven't you had enough?"
"We got to one of your men. Tulip. In Hong Kong."
"What happened to our men in Hanoi and Singapore?" It was a rhetorical question. Nick already knew the answer.
"Same thing."
Nick stood up, his eyes cold. He used Hugo again. Quickly. One quick thrust, and there was a gurgle and a tiny fountain of blood.
Nick wiped Hugo clean and put him back in the sheath.
He washed his hands in the bathroom and left.
Chapter 3
It was somewhere between midnight and one. A full yellow moon decorated the night sky with a thousand stars as ornaments.
Nick circled the house, looking for some sign of life. There wasn't a light to be seen. He approached the house from the back, crossed over the grass apron, and found the back door.
He used the lockpicker's special, opened the door slowly, silently, tiptoed inside. He closed the door behind him, stood and waited for his eyes to become accustomed to the dark. Then he started to prowl.
He opened a door and walked in. He heard noise under his feet. He was walking on crumpled-up newspaper.
The moonlight on the bed showed the rising figure. Nick leaped, Hugo ready, upon the bed. The stiletto flashed in the silver moonlight and there was an anguished cry. Nick slid off the bed, searched for the light switch, and flicked it. He discovered the body on the bed to be Japanese.
"Shigeta. Shigeta."
Nick's back was rigid as plaster. He heard the footsteps approaching. He flicked off the lights and waited.
The door opened and a bulky figure crystalrzed in the doorway. «Shigetal» The lights came on. The burly man stood there, his eyes on Nick.
Nick had made a mistake. Perhaps fatal. He had Hugo ready, but the burly man, dressed in white cotton pajamas, had a snub-nosed revolver in his hand.
"You will please drop that knife," Rudy Carpenter said.
Nick let Hugo drop. He elevated his hands.
Rudy Carpenter glanced at the blood-stained figure on the bed. He stepped to one side. "You will please move. Into the other room."
Nick walked into the front room.
"Now stand perfectly still."
The burly man stood behind Nick and used his left hand to search the intruder. He found the Luger. "Now you may sit"
Nick sat in the club chair.
"You killed my servant," Rudy Carpenter said. "You are not an ordinary burglar, are you? Perhaps not even a burglar. No, I think not. Who are you?"
"Do you know how many people ask me that question?" Nick said. "Millions of people. They even stop me on the street and say 'Who are you? I've stopped wondering why they ask me. I suppose there must be a reason. Now I have a stock answer. None of your damn business. I know I'm being ill-mannered but I can't help it."
"It doesn't matter," the burly man said. "It's obvious you came here to kill me. As you Americans say, the cover is blown. But how did you find me?"
"Does it matter?"
Rudy Carpenter was thoughtful for a minute. "Of course. Capjuhn. The man who took Harrison's place. You got to him. Is he dead?"
"Funny you should ask that He told me he didn't want to die alone, so I promised him he would have company."
"You take your situation very lightly, my friend." Carpenter backed off to a table on which stood two bottles and several tall glasses. He picked up a bottle, tilted it, and an amber-colored liquid poured into a glass. He picked up the glass and brought it over to Nick. "I offer you a last drink. I harbor no grudge."
Nick took it. "Aren't you joining me?"
Without waiting for an answer, Nick flung the contents of the glass into Carpenter's face. His left hand closed over the gun wrist as Carpenter fired. Nick bounced out of the chair, hooked his right leg around the burly man's left leg, and pushed.
They fell heavily to the floor. Carpenter was still blinded by the whisky. Instinct made him fight back with the ferociousness of a trapped rat. He jabbed repeatedly at the back of Nick's neck with his left fist while trying to twist his gun wrist from Nick's steel-like fingers.
Nick drove his knee deep in Carpenter's groin and the man bellowed with pain. Nick shifted his body slightly so that his face was over the gun wrist He bit Carpenter's wrist, and the gun fell from the man's hand. "Rather unorthodox, I admit," Nick grunted, gathering up the snub-nosed revolver. He swung at Carpenter's head twice, and the man went limp.
Nick got to his feet, picked up the bottle of amber liquid, held it to his nose. There was a faint odor of burnt almonds, mixed with the fumes of whisky. Cyanide of potassium.
Nick knelt by Carpenter's side. With one hand he lifted the man's head; with the other he forced the neck of the bottle into the man's mouth. Carpenter sputtered and his eyes opened. He saw the bottle in Nick's hand and horror made his eyes round.
Nick stood up and watched Carpenter die.
Chapter 4
It was a side street just off Queen's Road. A man reading the Hong Kong News was leaning against the building. He was a Chinese, dressed in western-style clothes. Nick went into the building, walked up one flight He rang and there was no answer.
He picked the lock and went inside.
It was a nicely furnished apartment with Oriental doodads all over the place. There was a combination cocktail table and bar. There were liquor stains on the surface. Nick went through the apartment and found no one. Not even a body.
In the bedroom, under the bed, was a metal locker that contained a small arsenal for emergencies. Nick drew it out and checked. Four guns were missing from their beds. Tulip had armed himself and run.
Tulip had got the wind up.
Nick checked the closets. There were expensive suits hanging from wire hangers. He checked dresser drawers. Silk shirts, silk underwear, silk ties. Tulip hadn't taken much. Probably just the clothes on his back. Tulip was running light, not wanting to be hampered by luggage.
Nick rubbed his fingers over his jawbone.
There was nothing here that could help him. He left the apartment, lighting a cigarette. Outside he started walking toward Queen's Road. The sunlight was the color of melted butter. Behind him he heard a car pick up speed. He turned to see a man leaning out the window, holding a Sten machine gun. Behind the wheel was a grim-faced man. It was Tulip.
Nick headed for the pavement, scraped the side of his face.
The burst from the machine gun sounded like a stick trailing rapidly along a picket fence.
Nick had Wilhelmina out and returned the fire.
The man with the machine gun ducked inside the car as it rounded the corner and sped up Queen's Road.
Nick got to his feet and holstered the Luger. He was sure he had hit the man with the Sten. It was the Chinese who was reading the Hong Kong News when he had gone into the building.
Nick walked hurriedly away from the scene, and behind him a crowd was gathering. He had no wish to explain things to the Hong Kong police. After all, they had their own problems, and he didn't want to add his own.
She had the face of an Asiatic doll: fragile and serene. Lilac mascara shadowed her eyes, her eyebrows were raven curves, her lips were strawberry red. H
er name was May Chin and she was Tulip's mistress.
The apartment was in a new development in Kowloon and it was lush. It smelled heavily of money.
May Chin was twenty-four, but looked nineteen. She was in silk lounging pajamas and she looked comfortable and unconcerned on her chaise longue.
The outside of Nick's glass was sweating because of the ice inside. He sipped the concoction and it tasted fine and smooth. He was on a black-silk davenport and his legs were stretched out. He also seemed comfortable but not unconcerned.
"Don't you believe me, Nick?" the Chinese girl said. "I told you I haven't seen Harry in weeks."
Harry Weston was the name Tulip was using in Hong Kong.
"You think he skipped?" Nick asked casually.
"I'm sure of it"
"I don't think so," Nick said. "I think he's right here in Hong Kong»
May Chin had an amused look on her lovely lips. "Think as you damn please." Suddenly she appeared thoughtful. "I thought you and Harry were once associated in something. A business enterprise, I believe. But no matter. You two are supposed to be friends. Yet you act like some hunter out for game. Or am I getting the wrong impression?"
"It's a poor act, May. It won't work. Why don't you loosen up and save yourself some grief? I'm not leaving Hong Kong till I see Harry."
"I'm getting the impression Harry may be hiding from you."
"Where is he?"
May sighed as if she was bored by it all. "I don't know."
Nick then described the Chinese who had used the Sten gun. He saw recognition register in May's eyes.
"Yes, I know him," she admitted. She sat up. "Just what's going on, Nick?"
She sounded genuine enough. Nick was tempted to believe she really didn't know where Tulip was. He knew that she had been kept in the dark about Tulip's activities, and AXE had ordered a check on her when it was learned she was Tulip's mistress. She had been cleared. No known Communist sympathies.
"You've always been clever," Nick said. "You never went out of your way to look for trouble. Why start now? The less you know, the better off you'll be. That's sound advice, May. Sound advice from an old friend."
"Is Tulip in trouble?"
Nick became alert. "Tulip? Don't you mean Harry?"
"I guess I slipped up. All right, Nick. I know Harry was working for his government. He got drunk one night and told me everything."
"Very reliable, our friend Harry."
"Can't you tell me what it's all about?" She was almost pleading.
Nick put his glass aside. "You really don't know?"
She shook her head, and her hair, black as midnight, flew about her lovely face.
"He turned traitor."
There was shock on her face. "I don't believe it."
"You asked for it."
"I… I hate the Commies. Harry knew it. He wouldn't do that to me. He wouldn't. You must be wrong."
"Is that why he's hiding?" Nick saw she didn't want to face the brutal truth. If it was an act, it was a good one. She had admitted knowing Tulip's Chinese companion. She never would have done that if she was on the other side. She would have been more clever, more cautious. 'Tulip uses people," Nick said. "He was always that way. Maybe he's using you now."
"I swear I don't know where he is," she cried. There were tears of rage and humiliation in her eyes.
"All right," Nick conceded. "What about the Chinese I described to you?"
"His… his name is Wong Chew. I know he's been with Harry constantly for some time now."
"Where can I find him?"
"He has an apartment above a printer's shop on Jordan Road." She gave Nick the number. "He had a little party once and Harry took me up there. It's not much of a place. A dump."
Nick picked up his drink and finished it. "Take my advice and get yourself another playmate." He got to his feet.
"When I want your advice," she said heatedly, "I'll ask for it."
Nick shrugged and walked out He wasn't sure whether she was angry at him or Tulip.
He hadn't lost anything by seeing her. Even if it was an act and she warned Tulip, it didn't matter. Tulip knew that he was in Hong Kong and looking for him. It was Tulip who had driven the car while Wong had blasted away with the Sten gun. Nick had a score to settle with Wong. If he could get Wong to talk…
But there was another ace in the hole. Jimmy How. Nick was saving Jimmy How for last.
Nick found a restaurant and had mandarin duck with cold beer. Then he went to his hotel room, where he showered and took a nap.
Nick liked night work. The pay wasn't better but it was much safer. He took a walla walla — a motorboat — to Kowloon, and a taxi drove him to Jordan Road.
There was a light on in the apartment over the printing store. There was the barest chance that Tulip was hiding there in Wong's apartment. It was too much to hope for.
Nick went up the stairs and stopped in front of the door. He held the Luger ready in his right hand, and with his left he picked the lock. The door opened and a startled Chinese jumped up from a straight-backed chair. He had been reading a magazine. It flew from his lap to the floor. It was Wong. He was in his shorts. There was a bandage on his left arm. He saw the gun in Nick's hand and ran for the bedroom.
Nick could have potted him there but he wanted the man to talk first. He ran after him.
Nick stopped in the doorway and said, "Hold it."
The Sten gun was on the bed, and Wong was clawing for it.
Nick shot away the lower part of the man's jaw. Then he sent another bullet spinning into the top of his head. Wong rolled off the bed.
It was getting to be a blood bath, Nick decided. He knew it wouldn't end till Tulip was six feet under.
May Chin had been right. The place was a dump. Nick knew it was useless but he searched the flat anyway, hoping for an address on a piece of paper, an address which could be Tulip's hiding place. He found nothing.
Chapter 5
Nick was dressing when the phone rang. He sat on the bed and picked up the receiver. "Yes?"
"Outside call for you, sir. One second, please." There was a faint click and a man's voice came on. "Hello, Nick."
Nick's fingers tightened on the receiver. "Tulip"
"I see you got to Wong. He was a good boy."
"You're next on the list, Tulip. You know that, don't you?"
"Sure. What the hell. Maybe you'll get me. Maybe you won't."
"How did you know where I was staying?"
"I saw you coming out of May's apartment. I figured you might look her up. I followed you to your hotel Then I went back to see May, and she swore she hadn't told you anything."
"She hadn't," Nick said, breathing deeply.
"That's a lie. She told you where Wong lived."
There was a click and the line was dead.
Nick put the receiver back on its cradle. He finished dressing and went downstairs.
* * *
May Chin lay in the tub totally nude. One of her legs was drawn up at an obscene angle; her heavy breasts floated on the water. Her head rested on one arm; only her eyes were visible. She seemed to be staring straight at Nick.
He had never seen her so openly sexual. The door to the bathroom had been open when he came in; it was almost as if she was waiting for him, now that Tulip was gone. As if she wanted to use Nick to forget. Well, Nick was willing — and more than able.
He moved closer to her. "I'll just join you," he said. She didn't answer. He leaned over her to kiss her, then recoiled in shock.
She was dead. There was a silk stocking around her neck. Nick touched the water in the tub; it was cold.
Tulip had killed May for spite. It was a senseless killing. He knew she hadn't told Nick where he was hiding. Nick would have gone to where he was hiding instead of wasting time at Wong's.
Tulip had killed May to show his defiance. Wong couldn't have mattered that much to him.
But why was Tulip still in Hong Kong? What was he waiting for
? Why didn't he hop over into the mainland?
Maybe Jimmy How knew the answers.
Jimmy had done odd jobs for Tulip. He was close to Tulip, or as close as one could get. Tulip used Jimmy and he had laughed about it to Nick. And Jimmy was a big shot in his own right…
Part of the mainland behind Kowloon was called New Territories and was leased to Great Britain in 1898. There were shrimp and duck farms that catered to the many different types of restaurants in Hong Kong. There was one shrimp farm that was actually a cover for a product that would have interested the police. Heroin was more popular in Hong Kong than opium was.
And one of the biggest suppliers was a man named Jimmy How. Jimmy was twenty-six. He would have been handsome except for the ugly jagged scar on his face made by a shrimp knife. The man who had given Jimmy the souvenir was dead. He had been found dead with his throat slashed two days after Jimmy had left the hospital.
Jimmy welcomed Nick with a warm handshake and invited him into the wood-frame house. The interior was richly lavish with thick rugs and expensive furniture. Jimmy was a very rich man. There was a portable bar, and Jimmy made drinks. "Why didn't you call me to tell me you were in Hong Kong?" Jimmy said, giving Nick his drink.
"I wanted to surprise you." Nick rolled the glass between his palms. "I know you love surprises."
"Sit down, Nick No need to stand. See that sofa. All the way from Grand Rapids."
Nick sat. "Have you seen Tulip around?"
Jimmy sat in a club chair and kicked his shoes off. "I like to be comfortable. Let's see now. What'd you say?"
"You heard me."
"Oh, yeah. Tulip. Nope. Seems he disappeared off the face of the earth. There's a rumor floating about that he's dead. But you can't take stock in rumors."
"He killed May Chin," Nick said bluntly.
Jimmy caught his breath sharply. "Did he do that?"
"I just said so."
"I… I can't help you, Nick."
"Can't — or won't?"
Jimmy's face tightened, and the scar was darkish in contrast to the surrounding skin. "Don't come shoving your weight around here, Nick. I won't have it."
