He drew in a lungful of smoke. Now where had he left his d.a.m.n bicycle? He set off across the rough gra.s.s just as Khun, now within thirty yards, had once again lifted his gun.

This target was even more difficult. A moving man, his instructor had warned him, is the hardest thing in the world to hit with a revolver shot. If you have to shoot, then aim slightly ahead, but it is better to wait until your target stops moving. Khun began to slide over the gra.s.s again as Jaffe lengthened the distance between them.

Jaffe found his bicycle half hidden in the gra.s.s and he picked it up. As he straightened, Khun, seeing the bicycle and realizing in a moment or so, he would have missed his chance, sighted hurriedly along the short barrel of the gun and fired.

Jaffe was just throwing his leg over the saddle of his bicycle when Khun fired at him. For Khun, it was a remarkably good shot, considering he was fl.u.s.tered and had scarcely taken aim.

Jaffe heard something zip past his face, so close he felt a burning sensation on his skin. This was immediately followed by a gunflash which seemed to come from a point only a few yards away. The bang of the gun was violently loud in the silence of the night.

Instinctively, Jaffe jerked back, lost his balance and sprawled on the gra.s.s, the bicycle entangling his legs.

Khun felt a great surge of excited triumph run through him. He had fired and he had seen Jaffe fall. He had lost sight of Jaffe in the long gra.s.s, but he was certain he had hit him. Whether he had killed him or not remained to be seen, but at least, he was sure he had hit him.

Jaffeas first reaction was to throw off the bicycle and get to his feet, but he restrained himself. Whoever had shot him was some thirty yards away from him and lying in the gra.s.s. If he moved he would be inviting a second shot and this time, the man with the gun might not miss. Very slowly and cautiously, he moved his hand to his hip pocket and pulled out his gun, sliding back the safety catch, aware that his heart was hammering and he had difficulty in breathing.

Khun remained where he was, his gun pointing in the direction of his last sight of Jaffe. A thought had dropped into his mind that had given him pause and badly shaken his confidence. Suppose, by ill chance, he thought, cold sweat starting out on his face, this big man he had fired at wasnat the American, Jaffe? He had jumped to the conclusion the big shadowy outline of the man he had seen against the skyline could have been no one else but the wanted American, but suppose he wasnat? Suppose he was some other American?

Jaffe lifted his head slowly and sighted along the rough ground. He couldnat see anything except big gra.s.s and a few shrubs. He listened intently, wondering who could have fired at him.

Khun had decided to investigate. He couldnat be certain that the man he had shot was dead. He might only be slightly wounded. If it was Jaffe, Khun knew he was armed. He didnat intend to rise up and present a target of himself.

Jaffe suddenly saw him. The white uniform showed up against the blackness of the gra.s.s. The man was creeping forward like a snake, and he wasnat more than fifteen yards from Jaffe.

Khun also spotted Jaffe. His khaki shirt was also visible against the dark gra.s.s. Khun stopped moving and stared at the dim outline of the fallen man, his gun thrust forward, sweat trickling down his face while he watched for the slightest movement.

Jaffe could just make out the gun in Khunas hand. He guessed rather than saw it was pointing at him.

He doesnat know if I am alive or not, Jaffe thought, trying to control the panic that gripped him. Heall probably shoot again before coming any closer. If I make the slightest movement, heall fire. Even if I donat he could still shoot.

He was holding his gun down by his side. He would have to lift it and aim. By lying flat in the gra.s.s, Khun had made himself an almost impossible target. Jaffe told himself he couldnat afford to miss. He began to lift the gun, inch by inch.

Khun lay in the gra.s.s, staring at the man lying some fifteen yards in front of him. He didnat know what to do. He wanted to shoot at the dim outline, and yet his mind kept warning him that if this wasnat Jaffe, he might be tried for murder.

He lay there, trying to make up his mind. The minutes ticked by. Jaffe watched him. He had got his gun up and it was levelled in the direction of the peak cap Jaffe could just make out against the dark background, but it was still too tricky a shot. So he waited.

After what seemed to be an eternity and was actually five minutes, Khun began to relax. The man was dead, he told himself. No one badly wounded could lie so still for so long. He had to see if it was Jaffe.

Spurred on by the feeling of panic, he rose to his knees, then straightened up and began to walk cautiously towards the fallen man.

Jaffe raised the barrel of his gun, keeping the gun down by his side so the approaching man couldnat see it against the skyline, and when Khun was within five yards of him, he gently squeezed the trigger.

The firing pin came down on the cap, making a loud click, but the gun didnat fire. The three-year old cartridge had betrayed Jaffe in his most urgent need.

Khun heard the sound and jumped aside, his breath whistling out of his open mouth. He saw a vast shape rise off the ground and come towards him in a lunging dive and he fired blindly.

The bullet sc.r.a.ped Jaffeas arm. He felt the burning pain but it didnat check his dive. Khun had no chance to fire directly at him again. Jaffeas arms encircled his bony legs and his shoulder thudded into his groin. Khun felt as if he had been charged by a bull. He felt himself being flung up in the air and he pulled the trigger of his gun, the bullet whizzing into the night sky, the flash of the gun momentarily blinding Jaffe.

The two men crashed down on the gra.s.s. The gun flew out of Khunas hand. He screamed out in terror as he felt an agonizing pain sweep through him. Jaffe struck him on the side of his head with his clenched fist and the little man, hopelessly outmatched, jerked upwards and then fell back ]imply.

Jaffe knelt over him, breathing heavily. His hands rested lightly on Khunas throat, ready to nip back a second scream. Khun mumbled something in Vietnamese which Jaffe couldnat understand. Then from his throat came a curious dry rattling sound, like the rustle of dry leaves. The sound made Jaffeas hair stand on end. Khunas head flopped sideways, and Jaffe knew he was dead.

He remained kneeling over the little man for some minutes too stunned to move, then finally he made an effort and stood up.

Another one dead! he thought. These little people are as brittle as matchsticks. I guess I must have broken his spine. Well, at least, this was in self defence. If I hadnat gone for him, he would have killed me.

Now what was he going to do? he asked himself. If they found this little manas body here, they might set a trap at the temple. Blackie was coming back the day after tomorrow. He would have to move him.

Walking stiffly, his mind jumping with alarm, he went back to his bicycle. He groped around for several seconds before he found his gun. He shoved it into his hip pocket. The gun was no good, he told himself. It had been just luck that it had fired the first time. He couldnat trust it any more.

He straightened his bicycle and wheeled it over to where Khun lay. Without much trouble, he hoisted the dead man over his shoulder, then wheeling his machine, he started across the rough gra.s.s towards the main road.

Just before he reached the road, he came upon Khunas bicycle. He couldnat leave it where it was. Balancing the dead man over his shoulder, he started off again, wheeling the two machines, holding them in either hand. When he reached the road, he got on his bicycle and steering the other, he pedalled off down the road.

I only need to run into someone, he thought. Thatas all it needs to round off a h.e.l.l of a lousy night.

But he didnat run into anyone. And after riding four or five miles, he dumped Khunas body in a ditch and the bicycle on top of him.

Before leaving, he took Khunas gun and cartridge belt.

As he rode back to Thudaumot, he hoped the police would think the little manas death was yet another Viet Minh outrage.

II.

Blackie Lee arrived back at the club at twenty minutes to one a.m. He parked his car, got out and stood for a moment breathing in the hot used-up air.

There was no movement in the street. Three rickshaws stood nearby along the kerb. The three rickshaw boys were sleeping in their vehicles. The neon lights that plastered the front of the club were out. They went out every night exactly at twelve. Looking up at the dark building, Blackie smiled to himself. In Hong Kong those lights would blaze until the early hours of the morning. There was no crippling curfew in Hong Kong.

He started towards the club, then paused as he saw a shadowy figure rise up out of a dark doorway and come towards him. He recognized the hard Mexican hat that Yo-Yo always wore and he frowned impatiently.

Yo-Yo sidled up to him.a aGood evening, Mr. Blackie,a he said. aI wanted to speak to you.a aSome other time,a Blackie said curtly. aItas late. See me tomorrow,a and he walked across to the entrance of the club and fumbled in his pocket for his keys.

Yo-Yo followed him.

aIt wonat wait until tomorrow, Mr. Blackie. I wanted your advice. Itas about the American, Jaffe.a Blackie restrained a start of alarm with an effort. His agile mind worked swiftly. What a fool he had been! He had forgotten he had sent Yo-Yo to follow Nhan. This little rat knew where Jaffe was hiding! He must have read about the reward in the newspapers.

aJaffe?a he said, looking over his shoulder at Yo-Yo, his fat face expressionless. aWhoas Jaffe?a aThe American who was kidnapped, Mr. Blackie,a Yo-Yo said, a derisive sneer in his voice.

Blackie hesitated, then he said, aYouad better come up,a and he waved Yo-Yo to goon ahead.

As Blackie followed him up the stairs, his elation left him. If this little rat has put two and two together, he thought, and made it four, he can ruin the whole of our plans.

There was only one light on in the dance hall. It was over the cash desk where Yu-Ian was checking the cash. The desk was covered with money. She glanced up as the two men came in. Her head jerked up when she saw Yo-Yo.

Blackie didnat say anything to her. He continued across the floor to his office, followed by Yo-Yo who had paused for a moment to stare at the money on the desk.

In his office, Blackie sat down behind his desk. Yo-Yo stood in front of the desk, chewing on the thin leather strap that hung from his hat.

aWell? What is it?a Blackie said.

aTheyare offering 20,000 piastres for information about the American,a Yo-Yo said. aI know he hasnat been kidnapped and I know where he is. I thought Iad better talk to you first before I claim the reward.a aWhat makes you think itas anything to do with me?a Yo-Yo picked at a food stain on his coat.

aIsnat it?a he said, not looking at Blackie. aHeas the man I saw in the villa at Thudaumot. The man Nhan visited.a aHow do you know?a Yo-Yo looked up and his thick lips parted in a sneering grin.

aI know, Mr. Blackie. I thought Iad come to you first. Youave always been good to me. I didnat want to get you into any trouble.a Blackie breathed heavily through his wide nostrils. He felt a cold clutch of fear at his heart, but his face remained expressionless.

aWhy should I get into trouble?a Yo-Yo shrugged his shoulders. He didnat say anything.

To give himself time to think, Blackie lit a cigarette. As he flicked out the match, he said, aIt would be better if you didnat go to the police. Iam thinking of the girl. I donat let any of my girls get into trouble if I can help it.a Yo-Yoas grin widened.

aI know that, Mr. Blackie.a aWell, okay. You keep away from the police. Just keep quiet about this. Police informers arenat popular around here.a Yo-Yo nodded.

There was a pause, then Blackie went on, aItas time you settled down to a job of work. Come and see me tomorrow. Iall find something for you: something good,a and he made a little flicking movement of dismissal.

Yo-Yo didnat move.

aHow about the reward, Mr. Blackie?a Iall have to give him the money, Blackie thought, but it wonat stop there. As soon as he has spent it, heall be back for more. Iave got this little rat on my back now.

aThe police wonat pay you,a he said. aTheyall listen to you, but they wonat pay you. I shouldnat have to tell you that.a aI think they would, Mr. Blackie,a Yo-Yo said and a hard note came into his voice. aI want 20,000 piastres.a Blackie looked at him for a long moment, then he got to his feet.

aWait here,a he said, aand keep your hands off my things.a He went out closing the door after him. He crossed to a door leading to his living quarters at the back of the club, ignoring Yu-lan who was looking anxiously at him from across the hall. He went to Charlieas bedroom and entered.

There was a flickering nightlight under a large photograph of Blackieas and Charlieas father that stood on a shelf on the wall. The nightlight provided enough light for Blackie to see his brother sleeping in the bunk across the room.

As Blackie shut the door, Charlie opened his eyes and sat up.

aWhat is it?a Charlie asked.

Quietly Blackie told him of his meeting with Jaffe.

aHe has the diamonds,a he said. aHe has given me one more.a Charlie held out his hand and Blackie gave the screw of paper containing the diamond. Charlie examined the stone and nodded.

aThis is another of mine,a he said. aHe agrees to the price?a Yes.a aI fly to Phnom-Penh tomorrow morning.a aThere is a complication,a Blackie said and told Charlie about Yo-Yo.

aThese things happen,a Charlie said philosophically. aYou must pay him. Heall come back for more, of course. When we have the diamonds we may have to do something about him, but not until we have the diamonds.a aThatas what I thought. All right, Iall pay him.a aDo you think heall go to the police after you have paid him? He might be tempted to try for the reward as well.a aNo, he wonat do that,a Blackie said. aThe police know too much about him. I donat think they would give him anything: he knows that as well as I do.a Charlie nodded. Then pay him.a

chapter twelve.

I.

Nhan had pa.s.sed a bad night. She had had a dream that had terrified her. As soon as she had got her three brothers off to school and before her uncle had got out of bed, she took a pousse-pousse to the Tomb of Marshal Le-van-Duyet. At the entrance she bought an a.s.sortment of vegetables and fruit as gift offerings. She entered the Temple and laid her gifts among the other gifts already on the long table.

She knelt and prayed for some time, and then calmer in mind, she bought two candles, lit them and fixed them to the already overcrowded candle rack.

Then kneeling, she picked up a quiver containing a number of strips of thin wood, each strip bearing a number. Very gently and carefully she began to shake the quiver in both hands until one strip of wood toppled out and fell on the stone floor. She looked at the number and noted it was 16. She went over to a numbered rack on the wall and drew from a pigeonhole numbered 16 a strip of pink paper.

She took this strip of paper to an old man who was sitting at the entrance to the tomb. He was one of the five fortunetellers attached to the tomb. He read what was printed on the pink paper, then he stared at Nhan for some minutes. He was the best as well as the oldest fortuneteller at the Tomb and Nhan had great faith in him.

He told her that she must be very careful what she did during the next two days. These two days, he said, were the most critical of her life. After the two days, she would have no need of fear, but it would be better for her to return home and pray and keep on praying until the two days had elapsed.

Instead of returning home, Nhan caught the nine oaclock bus to Thudaumot. She felt an urgent need to be with Steve to feel his arms around her. He could, she felt, give her more comfort and more hope than prayer.

While the bus was leaving the Central Market for Thudaumot, Lieutenant Hambley was arriving at his office. He found on his desk a number of files and a request for a comprehensive report on the pilfering of stores belonging to the Emba.s.sy. The report and the files would keep him fully occupied for at least two days, and as he got down to work, he remembered that he was to have gone to the Tomb of Marshal Le-van Duyet to talk to Nhan Lee Quonas uncle.

Well, I canat do everything, he told himself. Iall give her name to NgocLinh and he can handle it.

It wasnat until eleven oaclock when his secretary brought him a cup of coffee that he paused in his work to telephone the Inspector.

aYour theory that Jaffe was a degenerate is so much baloney,a Hambley said when the Inspector came on the line. aI have talked to his friends and thereas no evidence at all that he was queer or that he chased girls. He had a regular girl. Youad better talk to her. Sheall tell you there was nothing wrong with the guy.a The Inspector, listening, half closed his eyes with exasperation.

aIf I could find the girl, Lieutenant,a he said, controlling his irritation, aI would most certainly talk to her, but I donat know who she is and I canat find out who she is.a Hambley grinned to himself.

aYou surprise me, Inspector. I had no trouble finding out who she is. I got her name from that Chinese tart you found Wade with. As easy as that.a The Inspector leaned forward, gripping the telephone. aWho is she?a aSheas a taxi-dancer at the Paradise Club,a Hambley said. aHer nameas Nhan Lee Quon. I donat know where she lives, but I do know her uncle is a fortuneteller at Marshal Levan-Duyetas tomb. Heall tell you where to find her.a The Inspector drew in a long breath.

aThank you, Lieutenant, I will act on your suggestion,a and he hung up.

For a long moment he sat still, staring in front of him, then he picked up the telephone and called Colonel On-dinh-Khuc. He told him he now knew who Jaffeas girl was.

aI will question her myself,a the Colonel said, a grating note in his voice. aArrest her quietly. Bring her to me immediately.a It didnat take the Inspector long to find Nhanas address. A register of all the taxi-dancers was kept at headquarters. The Inspector took two plainclothes men with him and drove in his car to Nhanas home. Leaving the car at the corner of the street, he walked with one of his men to the apartment block.

Nhanas mother came to the door.

Her daughter was out, she told the Inspector. She didnat know where she had gone. She would be back at midday or failing this, then she was certain to be back at six.

The Inspector left his man at the apartment. He told him to wait for Nhan to arrive and that her mother was not to leave the apartment on any pretext until her daughter did arrive.

When the Inspector had gone, his man sat on the bench near the door and lit a cigarette. Nhanas mother squatted on the floor looking at the man in terror. After a while the man got bored with smoking. He locked the door and then began to examine the contents of the apartment, opening and shutting cupboards, opening drawers and turning over their contents while Nhanas mother continued to watch him.

Jaffe was surprised and pleased when his room door opened and Nhan came in. He thought she looked tired and he could tell by her kiss that she was nervous about something. He led her to the bed and sat on it, pulling her down beside him, his arm round her. He told her of his meeting with Blackie. He didnat mention the policeman.