A Lotus For Miss Quon (24 page)

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Authors: James Hadley Chase

BOOK: A Lotus For Miss Quon
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He got back into the car and screamed at the Inspector to return to Saigon. The Inspector drove as fast as he dared, but it wasn't fast enough. The Colonel suddenly yelled at him to stop and get out of the driving-seat. He got under the wheel himself, and for the next twenty miles the Inspector sat stiff with fear as the car roared madly down the winding road at a speed that invited disaster.
It wasn't long before the accident happened. Coming out of a sharp bend at an impossible speed, the car suddenly skidded, the off-side tyre burst and the car slammed into the face of the mountain.
Although both men were severely shaken, neither of them were injured. It took them some minutes to recover. On inspection, the car was found to be wrecked beyond repair.
The accident had happened on a lonely stretch of the road. The Inspector knew there was no chance of any car passing at this time in the morning. The nearest police post was thirty miles away. There was nothing to do but to sit by the side of the road and wait for the first car to come from Dalat.
The two men waited seven hours before an old, dilapidated Citroen, driven by a Chinese peasant, came panting up the mountain road. The time now was ten o'clock and the heat of the sun had made the long wait unpleasant.
The Colonel hadn't spoken a word to the Inspector during the wait. He had sat on a rock, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his cruel yellow face set in an expression that chilled the Inspector's blood.
It took them another two hours to crawl to the police post in the panting Citroen. The Inspector telephoned for a fast car to be sent immediately.
The Colonel sent no message to Lam-Than. He wished now to deal with Nhan personally. Nothing else could satisfy the vicious fury that boiled inside him.
He arrived at Security Police Headquarters at half past one. He dismissed the Inspector, and then went to his private quarters where he took a shower, and changed his uniform. He had lunch. The atmosphere from his pent-up rage and the expression on his face terrified his servants.
Lam-Than, hearing that his master had returned, came into his room while the Colonel was eating his lunch.
The Colonel looked up. With his mouth crammed with food, he snarled, "Get out!"
Startled by the mad gleam in the small bloodshot eyes, Lam-Than hurriedly backed out of the room.
At twenty minutes past two, the Colonel finished his meal. He got to his feet. With thick, unsteady fingers, he undid the glittering buttons of his tunic which he took off and tossed on a chair. Then he went to the door, opened it and walked with a heavy measured tread down the passage, down the stairs to the room where Nhan still lay strapped to the steel table.
The two executioners were squatting patiently either side of the door. They stood up when they saw the Colonel. "You will wait here," he said, "until I call you."
He opened the door and went into the room, closing the door behind him. His hand groped for the light-switch and turned it on.
Nhan was blinded for some seconds when the violent cruel light beat down on her. Then she saw the Colonel standing looking down at her. The expression on his face turned her sick.
Steve! Steve! she thought wildly. Come and save me! Please; come and save me!
But she knew Steve wasn't coming. This was the moment she had waited for when she had lain in the dark, knowing it would come. This was the moment she had gained time for, to gain strength to keep silent.
She stiffened her will.
He won't make me talk, she said to herself. Whatever he does to me, I will keep silent. I want Steve to get away. I want him to be happy with his money. Oh, Steve, Steve, Steve, don't forget me. Think of me sometimes. Please, please don't forget me.
Then as the Colonel bent over her and put his hands on her, she began to scream.
Outside the room, the two executioners had squatted down again. It was cool and restful in the passage. There was nothing to disturb them for the room into which the Colonel had entered was sound-proof.
At half past two, the Dakota from Phnom-Penh arrived at the Saigon airport.
Blackie Lee sat in his car waiting for his brother to pass the Customs and Immigration barriers. He had to make a conscious effort not to look across the car park "where the black Citroen was parked. The car had followed him from the club. He had now identified the two detectives in the car. He knew they were from Security Police Headquarters.
He wasn't unduly alarmed although he found it a little unnerving to be followed wherever he went. If they had a case against him, he argued to himself, they wouldn't be wasting time following him. They would arrest him. Since he had survived so far, he didn't intend to be stampeded into flight. He had, at first, thought that he would go with Charlie and Jaffe in the helicopter, but it would mean not only leaving his club, but also Yu-lan. There was too much money tied up in the dub to run away at the first sign of danger.
Charlie Lee came out of the airport. He walked with a springy step of a successful man as he crossed over to Blackie's car.
"All right?" Blackie asked as he opened the off-side door.
"Very satisfactory," Charlie said. "Nothing to worry about at all."
Blackie drove the car out onto the main road. He glanced into the driving mirror. The black Citroen was moving slowly behind him.
He drove carefully back to Saigon. He didn't tell Charlie about the following car. There would be time for that when they got back to the club. He listened to Charlie's recital of his arrangement with Lee Watkins.
"There will be no hitch," Charlie concluded. "He is trustworthy. Did you get the gun?"
Blackie nodded.
"When you have had a rest," he said, "I think you should see Nhan and talk to her. Don't tell her too many details, but warn her to be ready by ten. Make sure she doesn't take too many things with her. These Vietnamese girls cling to their possessions."
"It is a pity we have to bother with her," Charlie said.
"We can't avoid it. The American won't leave without her. I am sure of that."
The car pulled up outside the Club. As the two men got out, Blackie noticed the Citroen had already parked further down the road. He didn't notice Yo-Yo watching them from the shade of the tree opposite the club.
When the two men had gone up the stairs and out of sight, Yo-Yo stood up and walking casually, his hands in his pockets, crossed the road and entered the club.
He had seen Yu-lan go out a few minutes before Blackie and his brother had arrived. It occurred to him the club might be empty, and he might just possibly get a chance to overhear a conversation between the two brothers that would give him a clue to what was going on.
Moving silently, he walked into the club. There was no one in the big hall. He tiptoed across the dance floor until he reached the door leading into Blackie's office. He could hear voices. Pressing his ear against the panel of the door, he listened.
Blackie was telling his brother about the Security Police and being followed. Charlie listened with growing alarm.
"I don't understand it," Blackie said. "If they had any proof, they would arrest me. It may be nothing to do with Jaffe. There was that currency deal last month."
"I don't like it," Charlie said. "I think you should come with me tonight. It may be nothing, but you mustn't take risks. There will be room in the helicopter for the four of us."
"I've thought of that, but what will happen to Yu-lan? If I leave now, they'll never let her get out. Besides, I can't just walk out of this place. When I do go, I intend to sell it. I must take a chance, Charlie."
"You could be sorry. I don't like it."
"I don't like it either. I'll think about it. There's time. I have until ten tonight to make up my mind." There was a pause, then he went on, "I have a million piastres in the safe, Charlie. I think you had better take the money with you. If anything goes wrong, it will be something for Yu-lan if she can get to Hong Kong. Will you do that for me?"
"Of course," Charlie said. "I still think you should come with me. If they've found out you know about the diamonds and where Jaffe is hiding, they will wipe you out."
"If they knew that," Blackie said bleakly, "I wouldn't be here talking to you now. I'll let you know definitely by tonight what I am going to do. In the meantime, will you see the girl? She has got to be ready by ten. There must be no delay."
Charlie got to his feet. "I'll go now," he said, "then I'll come back and have a nap. I won't get much sleep tonight."
Yo-Yo moved silently away from the door: his thin vicious face alight with excitement. He concealed himself behind a curtain that covered the entrance to the kitchens.
He heard Blackie and Charlie come out of the office. Blackie accompanied his brother as far as the entrance to the club.
"I don't think they're interested in you," Blackie said, "but be careful you are not followed."
When his brother had gone down the stairs, Blackie returned to his office. He looked through the shutters into the street. The two detectives still sat in the Citroen. He saw his brother walk briskly away. No one seemed to pay him any attention.
A slight sound behind him made him look sharply over his shoulder.
Yo-Yo stood in the doorway, smiling at him.
"Hello, Mr. Blackie," he said and came into the office, closing the door behind him.
Blackie had a sudden premonition of danger. How long had this little rat been in the club? Had he heard anything?
"What do you want?"
"I've been listening, Mr. Blackie," Yo-Yo said. "I want that million piastres you have in your safe. If you don't give it to me, I'll tell those two detectives out there you know where. Jaffe is. You know what they'll do to you if I tell them that." Blackie eyed Yo-Yo thoughtfully. Yo-Yo was slim and wiry, but Blackie knew that once he got his hands on the boy, he could easily master him. He would have to kill him. He had no other alternative. Already he had made up his mind that sooner or later he would have to murder the boy.
"What million piastres?" he asked, moving casually forward. "What are you talking about?"
Yo-Yo with the swiftness of a striking snake whipped a knife from his hip-pocket. Its long, glittering blade threatened Blackie.
"Don't come any nearer," Yo-Yo said. "Just give me the money."
Sweat broke out on Blackie's face. The sight of the knife filled him with sick fear. Then he remembered the gun in his safe. It was fitted with a silencer. He would open the safe, pretending to get the money, then he would grab the gun, turn and shoot.
He pretended to hesitate. He remained motionless, staring at Yo-Yo.
"Hurry!" Yo-Yo said. "Give me the money!"
Blackie lifted his shoulders in resigned surrender. He took from his pocket the safe key, crossed the room and unlocked the safe. He had to kneel to reach in the safe. His broad back covered his movements. His hand closed around the butt of the gun as Yo-Yo silently crept up behind him.
As Blackie lifted the gun and tensed his muscles to bring his body upright, an agonizing pain hit him between his shoulder blades. His hand slipped off the gun and he fell forward. The agony was repeated as Yo-Yo stabbed him again.

2

A little after five o'clock, the telephone bell rang in Lam-Than's office. With an impatient exclamation, Lam-Than put down his pen and picked up the receiver. He listened to the excited voice on the line. What he heard made him stiffen in his chair.
He said, "You arc certain of this? There can be no mistake?" He listened while the voice beat against his ear-drum, then he said, "Very well," and hung up.
He sat for a long moment staring down at his desk, then he got to his feet and went swiftly along the passage to Colonel On-dinh-Khuc's office. He knocked and entered. The office was empty. He paused in the doorway, frowning and looking around. He saw the Colonel's tunic lying on a chair and he immediately guessed where he was.
He hurried to the questioning-room. The two executioners, guarding the door, looked at him inquiringly.
"Is the Colonel in there?" Lam-Than asked.
One of them nodded.
Lam-Than turned the handle of the door and pushed the door open. He stepped into the room and immediately closed the door on the curious staring gaze of the two executioners.
With a growl like that of a wild animal, the Colonel turned quickly and glared at him. Lam-Than looked past the Colonel at the table and his mouth tightened.
"Get out!" the Colonel snarled.
"You must leave immediately, sir," Lam-Than said, speaking distinctly and quickly. "A warrant for your arrest was signed half an hour ago. You are being charged with the murder of the woman, My-Lang-To. The driver of the jeep who killed her has confessed he did so on your instructions."
The Colonel leaned forward and peered at Lam-Than. The muscles in his heavy face suddenly went slack.
"They can't arrest me," he snarled. "No one can arrest me!"
"The warrant has been signed by the President," Lam-Than said. Did she tell you where the American is hiding?"
The Colonel leaned against the wall. He seemed crushed and defeated.
"I cannot understand it," he said, and there was dazed wonder in his voice. "Nothing I did to her would make her speak. A woman like that . . . perhaps after all she really didn't know."
Lam-Than shrugged his shoulders.
If you can reach the Bien Hoa airport you have a chance of reaching Phnom-Penh," he said. "They may not have thought of alerting the airport. You must go at once."
Even as he spoke there came the sound of tramping feet down the passage and the two men looked at each other.
Lam-Than shrugged his shoulders. He moved away from the Colonel as if disassociating himself from him.

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