The Jerusalem File

by Nick Carter

  "All right. Don't tell me. You were talking to the operator when I called for the cops."

  "All right I won't tell you. But that's how it was. You're very green, Carter. Kind of green and white. I think you'll pass out any minute now."

  "In a pig's eye," I said. And passed out.

  Twenty One

  I was lying naked in the sun. Out on a balcony. I was thinking what I'd do with a billion dollars. I probably wouldn't do anything different. What's there to do? Own fourteen suits like Bob Lamott? Own a palace in Arabia? Nah. Boring. Travel? That's the other thing people do with money. Travel is something I get plenty of anyway. Travel and adventure. Lots of adventure. Let me tell you about adventure — it's a shot in the arm. Or the leg.

  I keep picturing that money. Half a billion dollars. Five hundred million. The money they'd taken from Leonard Foxx's vault. The ransom money. Five hundred million dollars in fifties. You know how many bills that is? Ten million. Ten million fifty-dollar bills. Six inches a bill. Five million feet of money. A little less than a thousand miles. And the moral is, it can't buy happiness. At least not for Foxx. It can't even buy him bail. First of all, because the money was returned. And secondly, the Judge, in a fit of legal slapstick, set Foxx's bail at one billion dollars.

  There were no takers.

  The phone rang. It was lying next to me out on the balcony. I checked my watch. Noon. I poured myself a glass of Polish vodka. I let the phone ring.

  It kept on ringing.

  I picked it up.

  Hawk.

  "Yes, sir."

  "You enjoying yourself?"

  "Uh, yes, sir… You called to ask if I'm enjoying myself?"

  "Not exactly. How's the leg?"

  I paused. "I can't lie, sir. It'll be okay in a couple of days."

  "Well I'm glad to hear you can't lie to me. Some other people think you're on the critical list."

  I said: "I can't imagine how that rumor got started."

  "Neither can I, Carter. Neither can I. So let's talk about your next assignment. You wrapped up the Foxx case yesterday so by now you ought to be ready for the next one."

  "Yes, sir," I said. I didn't expect the Nobel Prize, but a weekend off… "Go on, sir," I said.

  "You're in Cyprus now. I want you to stay there for the next two weeks. At the end of that time I want a full report on the exact number of Cyprus trees in Cyprus."

  "Two weeks, you said?"

  "Yes. Two weeks. I don't want any shoddy quick count."

  I told him he could certainly count on me.

  I hung up and took another dollop of caviar. Where was I? Oh yes. Who needs money?

  I heard the sound of a key in the door. I grabbed the towel and rolled over. And there she was. Standing on the threshold of the balcony door. She looked at me wide-eyed and ran to my side.

  She kneeled on the mat and looked me over. "I'll kill you, Nick Carter! I really think I'll kill you!"

  "Hey. What's the matter? Aren't you glad to see me?"

  "Glad to see you? I was scared half to death. I thought you were dying. They woke me up in the middle of the night and said, 'Carter's wounded. You've got to fly to Cyprus.'"

  I ran my hand through her yellow-rose hair. "Hey, Millie… hello."

  For a minute she smiled a lovely smile; then her eyes started blazing again.

  "Okay," I said, "if it makes you feel better, I am wounded. Look under that bandage. It's all cruddy in there. And is this how you treat a wounded hero — injured in the line of protecting his country? Or let me put that another way. Is this how you treat the particular man who got you a two-week vacation in Cyprus?"

  "Vacation?" she said. "Two weeks?" Then she made a face. "What was the first price?"

  I pulled her closer. "I missed you, Millie. I really missed your sassy mouth."

  I let her mouth know how much I missed it.

  "You know what?" she said softly. "I think I believe you."

  We kissed for about the next hour and a half.

  Finally she turned and lay against my chest. I pulled a handful of her hair to my lips and inhaled its perfume and stared out across the Mediterranean, thinking we'd somehow made a full circle.

  Millie was watching me watch the sea. "Thinking of quitting AXE again?"

  "Uh uh. I guess this stuff is my fate."

  "Too bad. I was thinking you'd be nice to come home to."

  I kissed the top of her sweet yellow head. "Honey, I'd make a lousy civilian — but I tell you what I bet I can arrange to get seriously wounded at least once a year. How about that?"

  She turned around and bit my ear.

  "Hmp," she said. "Promises, promises."