Not My Thing

8

Kling strode into his cabin at the Star Motel, slamming and locking the door behind him.

He found Ng Vee standing by the kitchen stove, stirring a saucepan of savoury-smelling food.

That smells great,’ Kling said. ‘I’m starving! What is it?’

‘Curried beef, rice and green peppers, sir,’ Ng said, not looking at Kling. ‘It’ll be ready in five minutes.’

‘Great!’ Kling moved out of the kitchen. ‘We’ll talk as we eat.’

He turned on the TV set. He was feeling triumphant. In ten days’ time, he would be worth five million dollars! He had certainly handled this sonofabitch Jamison beautifully. He stared for a moment at a busty girl screaming into a mike and, grimacing, he switched off the set.

The table was laid. He nodded. This kid certainly was a find! He never seemed to put a foot wrong, and his cooking was out of this world.

Kling took his place at the table and began to nibble bread.

Five million dollars!

He would be able to kiss the Mafia bosses goodbye. He would no longer have to plan to knock off some pest. With five million dollars, he would be able to live as he had so often dreamed of living.

Ng came in and set a big dish of the curried beef and a side plate of fried bananas and rice before Kling.

‘Terrific, kid!’ Kling said, as he began to pile the food on his plate. ‘Man! I’m starving!’

He didn’t notice that Ng only helped himself to a token portion of the food. Nor did he notice that Ng only toyed with his food while he ate ferociously.

After ten minutes or so, Kling, his hunger slightly appeased, grinned at Ng.

‘How did it go, kid? How did she behave?’

His face expressionless, Ng said, ‘No problem, sir.’

Kling gave his short, barking laugh.

‘Come the day, kid, when you say there is a problem. Then I’ll really get worried.’ He shovelled more food into his mouth. ‘This is top-class,’ he went on. ‘What happened when she surfaced?’

Ng moved his food around with his fork.

‘She was very calm, sir,’ he said. ‘I explained that she had been kidnapped. There was no trouble. She accepted the situation.’

Kling continued to eat.

‘You’ve done a great job, kid. Now, I’ll tell you something. I’ve talked to Jamison. In ten days, he’s going to part with five million dollars. I had him in a squeeze. There was nothing else he could do. So, in ten days’ time, I’ll be worth five million dollars! And, as you’re always saying, with no problems. How do you like that, kid?’

‘I am glad for you, sir,’ Ng said. He felt if he put any more food in his mouth, he would throw up. ‘What will happen to Mrs Jamison?’

‘I’ll tell you what I’m going to do when I get this money,’ Kling said, ignoring Ng’s question. ‘I’m going to charter a big yacht, and I’m going to drift around the world.’ Kling’s smile widened. ‘I want you to come with me. Get it?’

Ng bowed politely.

‘Thank you, sir.’ He got to his feet and began to gather up the dishes. ‘I have an ice with fruit, sir, if you would like it.’

Kling shoved back his chair and stood up.

‘No. I’ve had enough. A great meal, kid. You know what I’m going to do now? I’m going to town to celebrate earning five million bucks! I’m going to find a red head, well stuffed into her dress, and I’m going to screw her until she yells blue murder!’

Ng continued to collect the dishes.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said.

‘Hey, kid! Let’s go together. It’s time you had a girl,’ Kling said. ‘Come on! Leave that junk. Let’s you and me paint the town red.’

‘Thank you, sir, but please excuse me. I would rather watch TV if you don’t mind.’

‘Jesus!’ Kling exclaimed. ‘What a character you are!’

‘Yes, sir. May I ask what will happen to Mrs Jamison?’

As Kling lit a cigarette, his face turned ruthless.

‘What do you think, kid? Let me spell it out. I am a professional killer. When someone comes to me and tells me he wants someone rubbed out because he or she is a nuisance, and if this guy gives me the money I ask for, then I do the job. I’ve worked for years with the Mafia. They know I can be relied on. They don’t give a damn if I do an occasional private job, but they would give a damn if the word got out that I hadn’t delivered. So, you ask what will happen to this woman? So, I’ll tell you. She’s going to be rubbed out, and you and I will go on a world cruise.’

Holding the dishes, Ng stood motionless, looking like an ivory statue.

He asked, in a low, flat voice, ‘How will you kill her, sir?’

Kling shrugged impatiently.

‘I have ten days to think about that… nothing messy.’ He looked thoughtfully at Ng. ‘Suppose you do your blood-vessel trick? How about it, kid?’

Ng shivered.

‘I have never killed a woman, sir.’

Kling grinned.

‘There’s always a first time. Think about it,’ and with a wave of his hand he unlocked the cabin door and went out into the hot, humid darkness to his car.

Half an hour later, the dishes washed and put away and the kitchen once more spick and span, Ng walked into the living-room and sat down.

She is going to be rubbed out.

Kling’s words burned in Ng’s brain.

He sat huddled up, his clenched fists gripped between his knees, and he kept thinking of those words. A sick horror engulfed him. This lovely, gentle woman would be ruthlessly killed. He thought of Kling: a man who had saved him from starvation and raised his mother from utter poverty, who had taken care of him and had treated him as a loyal partner.

A little moan of agony escaped from Ng’s tightly closed lips.

How could he save the life of this lovely woman without being disloyal to his master? After what Kling had done for him and his mother, it would be unthinkable for him to be disloyal!

Ten days!

At least there was time to think and perhaps plan. Ng forced himself to relax. Surely in ten days, some solution would arrive.

Sitting back in the big lounging-chair, his mind shifted to those two wonderful hours he had spent with Shannon Jamison.

The memory was so vivid, it was as if he were watching a movie.

Again, he saw her, lying, unconscious on the bed. He had waited, then finally he saw her stir, then slowly open her eyes. He watched her puzzled expression as she looked up at the quilted, white ceiling. Then she lifted her head and looked directly at him.

He smiled at her, willing kindness and love into his smile.

He saw her stiffen, close her eyes as if absorbing a shock, then those beautiful eyes opened, and she half sat up.

‘It’s all right, ma’am,’ he said softly. ‘You have nothing to fear.’

Shannon stared at this slightly built Vietnamese. She felt she was dreaming.

‘Who are you?’ she forced herself to ask.

‘It it all right, ma’am. Please don’t be alarmed.’

She looked hurriedly around the big, well furnished room without windows, then back to him.

‘Where am I? What’s happening?’

‘Ma’am, you have been kidnapped. I am here to look after you. Please, you have nothing to worry about.’

‘Kidnapped?’

Shannon swung her long legs off the bed and sat up. She possessed considerable strength of character. She refused to let herself panic and forced herself to remain calm.

‘Are you telling me that I have been kidnapped?’

Ng nodded.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

She looked around the room: ‘Where am I?’

‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t tell you that.’

She took a long steady look at Ng. She saw he was a Vietnamese, and she was quick to see he was regarding her the way a spaniel dog regards his mistress. This expression gave her confidence.

‘Who are you?’ she asked.

Ng hesitated, then said, ‘Call me Kim, ma’am. Would you like coffee? You have only to ask and I will do anything to please you.’

She felt this odd-looking youth was on her side, so she forced a smile.

‘Thank you, Kim. Yes, I would like a cup of coffee.’

Ng moved swiftly into the kitchen and heated up the prepared coffee while Shannon got to her feet, found the bathroom and shut herself in. Her toilet finished, she returned to the bedroom.

Kidnapped!

This must mean that Sherman would have to pay ransom, then she would be free again. Then a thought struck her.

Would Sherman pay the ransom?

For a long time now, she had had this feeling that her husband wanted to get rid of her. If she died, he would be free to marry this woman she knew existed. No! she told herself. Sherman couldn’t be so ruthless as that! He would pay the ransom. Very soon the press would know she had been kidnapped. There would be a tremendous outcry. Surely, Sherman wouldn’t dare not pay the ransom!

Ng came in, carrying a tray.

‘If you would like something to eat, ma’am, I can easily prepare you something.’

‘Thank you. Just coffee.’ She forced herself to smile at him and waited while he poured the coffee and gave her a cup.

‘Thank you.’ She sipped the coffee, then regarded him. ‘You make excellent coffee, Kim.’

Ng was overwhelmed. How he loved this beautiful, gracious woman!

‘Thank you, ma’am.’ He hesitated, then went on, ‘I am afraid you will have to stay here for a few days. Is there anything I can get you? Please ask.’

Shannon finished her coffee while her mind raced. She must know more details of this kidnapping.

‘Does my husband know I have been kidnapped?’ she asked as Ng refilled her cup.

‘Oh, yes, ma’am. He knows.’

‘That tall thin man who talked to me before I blacked out,’ Shannon said. ‘He is the kidnapper… not you?’

Ng hesitated.

‘That’s right, ma’am.’

‘And you do what he tells you?’

Again Ng hesitated. He was becoming uneasy at these questions, but he wanted her to regard him as her friend.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said finally. ‘I’m sorry, but there is nothing more I can tell you. Is there something I can get for you? The refrigerator has lots of food, but there may be something else you need.’

‘I’m to stay here for several days?’

‘I’m afraid so, ma’am.’

‘Kim, I don’t know if my husband will pay the ransom. What will happen to me if he doesn’t pay?’

She saw Ng flinch and his hands turn into fists.

‘He will pay, ma’am,’ Ng said earnestly. ‘My master has told me so.’

‘How can you be so sure, Kim?’

‘He has to pay, ma’am. My master has told me so.’

‘Your master?’ Shannon drank more coffee. ‘How odd for you to call a kidnapper your master.’

Ng had a sudden feeling he was talking too much. He wanted to talk. He wanted to tell this lovely woman how much he loved her. He wanted to tell her about his past life, but he restrained himself.

‘Is there anything I can get for you, ma’am?’

Shannon realized that he had gone on the defensive, and for the moment she had lost him. She knew she would get nothing further from him, but she also felt, if she handled him gently, he would co-operate.

‘Yes, please, Kim. If I have to stay here for some days, I would like a radio. Could you get that for me?’

‘Oh, yes, ma’am,’ Ng said eagerly. ‘That’s no problem.’

‘Then the other thing I would like is a Bible.’

She saw Ng stiffen, then he stared at her.

‘A Bible?’

‘I think you are a good Catholic as I am,’ Shannon said, quick to see his reaction. ‘Yes, please… a Bible.’

Ng’s mind flashed back to the priest who had taught him English and how to write, his kindness, his understanding and his religious instruction.

‘Yes, ma’am. I’ll be back soon.’

The film going on in Ng’s mind faded.

He had bought a small transistor and a Bible out of the housekeeping money that Kling had given him. He had returned to the Whipping room and was glad and sorry that Shannon was in the bathroom. He paused, listening to the sound of water filling the bath, then he placed the radio and the Bible on the occasional table, paused for a long moment to stare wistfully at the bathroom door, then went out into the lonely sunshine.

Looking around at Beigler, Lepski and Howard Jackson, Terrell said, ‘Drysdale has fingered Lucky Lucan for the kidnapping.’

‘That I can’t believe!’ Lepski said with a snort. ‘That wet creep wouldn’t have the guts to kidnap a mouse!’

‘You’re right, Tom,’ Terrell said, ‘but it looks as if he just might have steered the kidnappers to Mrs Jamison. Drysdale said Lucan came to him for information about Jamison and his wife. Then this morning, Drysdale saw Lucan talking to a tough-looking, thin man who could match the boy’s description. When Drysdale questioned Lucan about Mrs Jamison, Lucan seemed to fall apart and got in a panic. That’s all we have to go on, but it makes a picture.’

‘The tough-looking man?’ Jackson asked.

‘Lucan says he’s just a neighbour and doesn’t know his name, according to Drysdale. It would be helpful to find out if this tough-looking man has a companion.’

‘That’s easy,’ Jackson said. ‘The Star Motel? So suppose I put one of my women operators there. She can rent a cabin and watch.’

‘That’s a good thought,’ Terrell said, nodding. ‘We have to tread carefully, Jackson. Neither Lucan nor this tough must get the idea we are checking them out.’

‘Leave it to me, Chief. I’ve just the woman,’ Jackson said. ‘I’ll get her there in a couple of hours,’ and he reached for the telephone.

Lucan was in a state of near panic. If Kling hadn’t promised to pay him half a million dollars, he would have packed and fled back to New York, but he was sure Kling would never part with the money unless he stayed.

Drysdale’s unexpected visit had almost destroyed Lucan’s nerves.

As Lucan paced up and down in the living-room of his cabin, he kept asking himself if Drysdale knew that the Jamison woman had been kidnapped. Was Drysdale sniffing for a clue or was he just trying to satisfy his curiosity?

Lucan cursed himself for losing his nerve and had reacted so stupidly when Drysdale had asked him how he had got on with the Jamisons. That could have been a harmless question, but Lucan now was sure that by his stupid reaction he had aroused Drysdale’s insatiable curiosity.

Hearing a car start up, he hurried to the window in time to see Kling drive away.

He looked at his watch. The time was 20.40. He realized he had been pacing the floor for the best part of two hours, worrying and sweating. He felt mildly hungry. He decided to drive down to the city and have dinner at one of the many sea-food restaurants. Maybe he could find a woman who would help him pass the night. If he didn’t relax, he told himself, he would go out of his skull.

He took a quick shower, put on a fresh shirt, then, turning off the lights, he went out into the steamy darkness.

As he was locking the door, a small car pulled up.

‘Excuse me.’ A girl’s voice. ‘Can you tell me which is cabin twenty-four?’

Turning, Lucan surveyed the girl who had just got out of the car. She stood in the hard light from the roof of the motel and smiled at him.

Lucan felt his blood quicken. Some chick! he thought.

She was tall, slim, wearing skin-tight jeans and a T-shirt. What this get-up did to her figure startled Lucan. Some body! he thought. She was pretty in a sophisticated way: blonde curls, big blue eyes and a wide, sensual mouth.

‘Cabin 24?’ he said, turning oh his charming smile. ‘Right next door. I’m Julian Lucan. Looks like I’m going to be your neighbour. Are you here for long?’

‘I’m Beryl Shaddock. Call me Berry,’ the girl said. ‘Sure, I’m staying for at least a week. I’m waiting for my husband to join me.’ She pouted. ‘He’s always joining me some place or the other.’

Lucan smiled again. He liked nothing better than pretty wives whose husbands were joining them sooner or later.

‘Anything I can do to help, Berry?’

‘Well, I’ve got a suitcase.’ She looked helpless. ‘Perhaps…?’ She flicked open the trunk of the car.

‘Sure.’ Lucan heaved out the heavy bag. ‘Give me the key. I’ll see you settled.’

Together they entered the cabin. Lucan switched on the lights and placed the bag by the bed.

‘That’s real nice of you, Julian,’ the girl said. ‘Well, thanks a million.’

‘Maybe we’ll be seeing each other,’ Lucan said as he moved to the door. ‘I know this city. I could show you around.’

‘You could?’ Her smile brightened. ‘I’d love that.’

‘Okay,’ Lucan said. He was getting the idea that this well built chick could be a push-over.

‘I’m starving,’ she said, thrusting her breasts at him. ‘I’ve flown from New York and the food on the plane was just terrible. Can I eat here?’

‘Sure, but the food here is also terrible,’ Lucan said, seeing his chance. ‘I’m just going to a little sea-food restaurant. Be my guest.’

‘Could I? Marvellous!’ Her blue eyes flashed. ‘You are so kind, Julian!’

‘Fine. Come as you are. You look terrific. Knock on my cabin door when you’re fixed.’

Of course, Lucan wasn’t to know that Beryl Shaddock was an FBI agent, Howard Jackson’s plant. Nor, of course, would he know that this seemingly sexy-looking girl was one of the best FBI agents in Florida: that she was an expert karate fighter, an expert pistol shot and tougher than teak.

As soon as Lucan had returned to his cabin, Beryl ran into the bathroom, washed, fixed her face, then ran to her suitcase. From it she extracted a two-way radio. In moments, she was speaking softly to Jackson, with Lepski, who had been given the task to work with Jackson, listening in.

‘Going like a dream,’ she whispered. ‘I’m having dinner with Lucan right now.’

Jackson chortled.

‘Marvellous girl! Now look, take it slow. Lucan is no fool. Give him a good time. Just get him to relax. I want to know about the tough character he was talking to. Get it?’

‘I’m with you. Over and out.’

Beryl replaced the two-way radio and locked the bag. Then, leaving her cabin, being careful to lock the door, she moved along the sandy path and knocked on Lucan’s door.

Half an hour later, Lucan was seated at a table for two in one of the better sea-food restaurants, facing Beryl.

‘Hmmm!’ she said. ‘I’m starving to death.’

‘Let me choose for you,’ Lucan said.

The Maītre d’ appeared and Lucan ordered dressed crabs, followed by a dish of clams, big prawns, corn on the cob, boiled potatoes and a lobster each.

While waiting, Beryl chatted. She was an expert at saying nothing, but holding a man’s interest. She kept leaning forward so Lucan could get a good look at her cleavage. She told him her husband (she wasn’t married) was in real estate and was setting up in Miami. Lucan, scarcely listening, kept staring at her half-concealed breasts. It wasn’t until they had eaten the crab and were drinking white wine that Beryl said casually, ‘Tell me about my neighbours, Julian. Are there any as handsome as you?’

Her sexy blue eyes were watching him, and she saw him stiffen.

‘Just a bunch of old squares,’ he said curtly. ‘You don’t have to bother your pretty head about them.’

She laughed.

‘Why should I? Tell me about Paradise City.’

On safe ground, Lucan relaxed again. He was an amusing talker and while they ate the main course he kept her laughing. All the time, he was wondering if he could get her into his bed. She seemed easy, but he was so experienced with women, he knew he had to approach cautiously.

The meal over, Lucan suggested they went on to the Casino and dance.

‘Julian, please excuse me,’ Beryl said, caressing his arm. ‘I’m terribly tired.’ She leaned forward and brushed his cheek with her lips. ‘Could we make it tomorrow?’

Lucan didn’t know whether to be disappointed or excited.

‘Okay, babe,’ he said. ‘I understand. You really mean we have a date for tomorrow night?’

She gave a sexy little moan.

‘Oh, yes, you handsome, marvellous man!’ She had to control herself not to burst out laughing at this corny dialogue.

‘I’ll see you home,’ Lucan said.

‘Oh no! You find a nice girl – not as nice as I am – but find her, and we’ll really get together tomorrow night. I’ll take a taxi.’

Now, completely hooked, Lucan put his arm around her, fondling her breasts, and moved with her to his car.

‘You go back with me, baby,’ he said. ‘I’ll take a sleeping pill and dream of tomorrow night.’

Sitting beside him, as he drove back to the motel, in the darkness, Beryl frowned.

Not a profitable evening information-wise, she thought, but at least she had had an excellent dinner at Lucan’s expense. Howard had warned her to take it slow. So, okay, tomorrow was another day.

But action for her started as Lucan pulled up outside her cabin.

Standing unsteadily in the glare of the roof lights, a half bottle of Scotch in his hand was Kling.

Kling had gone to the Casino, looking for a girl, but not finding one who suited him, he got good and drunk. He had been gently eased out of the Casino and into his car. The guards of the Casino had a lot of experience handling drunks. Kling let them put him in his car and start the car engine.

He had no idea how he had reached the Star Motel. His one thought now was to lie on his bed and drink more Scotch.

‘Oh, God!’ Lucan exclaimed when he saw Kling staggering towards him. ‘This could mean trouble, Berry.’

‘Who’s this?’ she asked.

‘A goddamn drunk who lives in a cabin not far from me,’ Lucan said, hurriedly getting out of his car. ‘You sit still, babe. I’ll handle him.’

As Kling weaved towards them, Beryl saw he was tall, thin and tough-looking. She gave Lucan a moment, then got out of the car.

By then Kling had arrived.

‘Hi, Lucky!’ he bawled. ‘Any chick? I went to town and, goddamn it, couldn’t find a screw.’

‘Shut up!’ Lucan snapped. ‘You’re drunk!’

‘Sure, I’m drunk,’ Kling bawled, then he saw Beryl as she stood by the car. ‘Hey! Hey! What have you got there?’

‘Get the hell out!’ Lucan snapped. ‘Come on, Ernie, you’re making a goddamn exhibition of yourself.’

‘You are certainly lucky, Lucky,’ Kling said and leered at Beryl. ‘Hi, baby! If you feel like changing partners, I’m in the market.’

Then Ng appeared into the glaring light. He took hold of Kling by his wrist and pulled him back. Kling stumbled, and hung onto Ng, mumbling, then Ng guided him down the sandy path and into their cabin. The door shut.

‘Well…’ Beryl laughed. ‘High life at the Star Motel. Who was that?’

‘I told you,’ Lucan said, sweating. ‘Just a goddamn drunk. I’m sorry about this.’

‘Why did he call you Lucky?’

‘Forget it. He’s a drunk.’

‘And that odd-looking boy. He looked Vietnamese to me. Who is he?’

‘God knows.’ Lucan was getting into a panic. ‘His servant, I guess. I tell your baby, I’m sorry about this.’

She patted his arm.

‘I thought it was fun. Then see you tomorrow.’ She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, then, unlocking the door of her cabin, turning to give him a wave, she entered and closed the door.

Three minutes later she was talking to Howard Jackson on her two-way radio.

The time was ten minutes after midnight.

Terrell sat at his desk, facing Howard Jackson and Lepski as he listened to Jackson’s report.

‘Looks like we have a big lead,’ Jackson said. ‘My operator has done a great job in a short time. She’s got in real with Lucan. Returning to the motel, they encountered a drunk who called Lucan ‘Lucky’. This is the tall thin, tough-looking guy that Drysdale tipped.’ He went on to describe what had happened outside the motel. ‘Now, this is interesting. A young slim Vietnamese man took the drunk away. These two seem to match the description of the two men who kidnapped Mrs Jamison by the kid. My operator is going to check them out. By tomorrow, we’ll have their names. Maybe they will have records. My operator might be able to get into their cabin and lift some fingerprints. She’s good at that.’

Terrell shook his head.

‘No! We wait until Jamison gives us the green light that he has paid the ransom and got Mrs Jamison back. Tell your operator to lay off. This is too dangerous. If we make one slip, Mrs Jamison could be murdered, and then Jamison will really start big trouble.’

Jackson grimaced, then shrugged.

‘Okay. This is your neck of the woods. But when the ransom is paid, we move in fast?’

Terrell nodded.

‘Yes, but not before Mrs Jamison is returned.’

As Beryl was relaxing in her bed, ready to sleep, her two-way radio, lying on her pillow, came alive.

‘Beryl?’

‘Right here.’ Her mind became alert.

‘The orders are to play this one cool. Do nothing further. The cops are shit-scared of Jamison. So, just enjoy yourself, keep your eyes open, but no action until I give you the green light… understand?’

‘That’s great news!’ Beryl said sarcastically. ‘Now, listen to me! I’ve got involved with Lucan. He expects to drag me into his bed tomorrow night. I think he is an utter creep and the last man I’d want to bed with. I need help, Howard. I want my supposed husband to arrive pronto tomorrow morning. If he doesn’t, I’m packing and leaving!’

Jackson sighed.

‘Okay. I’ll be there. Maybe it’s a good idea. I’ll be able to take a look at these two guys.’

‘That’s what I thought. And listen, Howard, there are two beds in this cabin. No funny business! I’m not all that mad about you either.’

‘Beryl! I’m shocked. I am a respectably married man!’

‘I know. I’ve already met too many respectably married men. They are married, but there’s nothing respectable about them! No funny business!’ And Beryl switched off.

Lepski arrived home at 01.15. He was in no mood to put up with Carroll’s tantrums. There were times – not many – when he asserted himself.

He was tired, and there was some thought that kept nagging at the back of his mind which he couldn’t pin down. This infuriated him and turned him sour.

He found Carroll sitting before the TV, absorbed in a soap opera. She didn’t look at him as he came into the living-room.

‘Don’t speak to me!’ she snapped. ‘I’ve almost had enough of you, Lepski! A movie and a dinner! That’s a big laugh!’

Lepski strode to the TV set and snapped it off just when the doe-eyed heroine seemed about to be raped.

With a scream of rage Carroll jumped to her feet.

‘Shut up!’ Lepski snarled in his cop voice. ‘Listen! We’ve got the biggest case we’ve ever had! Sherman Jamison’s wife has been kidnapped!’

Carroll’s rage evaporated as she stared at her husband.

‘Mrs Jamison… kidnapped!’

‘Correct. A real big deal! The Chief is scared that Jamison will make trouble, so all this is strictly under the rug until the ransom has been paid and Mrs Jamison returned. The FBI have moved in, and I’m working with them. I’ve got to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be one hell of a day!’

‘Oh, Tom, I wasn’t to know.’ Carroll came to him and put her arms around him. ‘Come on! We’ll go to bed.’

In spite of Carroll’s ministrations, Lepski spent a restless night. There was this thought that kept nagging at him, far back in his subconscious. He came awake at 07.30 and the nagging thought suddenly jelled. Clearly into his mind came the memory of Lucky Lucan leaving Lucy Loveheart’s brothel.

He recalled how puzzled he had been that a gigolo like Lucan should be calling on Lucy Loveheart. He stiffened. Lucan had been fingered by Drysdale as a possible go-between for the kidnappers. Suppose the kidnappers had asked Lucan to find a safe-house in which to hide Mrs Jamison? What could be safer than Lucy Loveheart’s brothel? A hunch? Well, hunches were all part of police business.

Galvanized, Lepski sprang out of bed and rushed into the bathroom where he showered and shaved hastily. As he returned to the bedroom he heard Carroll was already in the kitchen. He threw on his clothes to the smell of grilling ham.

‘Have you thought of something, Tom?’ Carroll asked as he stormed into the living-room.

‘Yes! I’ve got to get moving fast!’

‘You’ll eat your breakfast first,’ Carroll said firmly. She placed a plate of four fried eggs and grilled ham before him as he sat down.

‘A cop’s real wife!’ Lepski said and grinned at her as he attacked the food.

‘What have you thought?’ Carroll asked, sitting at the table.

‘Never mind,’ Lepski mumbled, his mouth full. ‘It’s a hunch. I think I know where they could be hiding Mrs Jamison.’

‘Careful you don’t choke yourself,’ Carroll said anxiously as she watched Lepski bolting down the food. She poured coffee. ‘Where do you think they’ve hidden her?’

‘It’d take too long to tell you,’ Lepski said, then drank the coffee, shoved aside his plate and jumped to his feet. ‘See you, honey,’ and, grabbing his hat, he rushed out to his car.

While Lepski was bolting down his breakfast, Kling came awake from a sodden sleep with a king-sized hangover. He felt as if someone was slamming a sledgehammer inside his skull. He groaned, holding his head. Slowly, he peeled open his eyes to find Ng standing over him.

‘Perhaps coffee, sir?’ Ng asked.

Kling snarled at him. When suffering from a hangover, he was at his vicious worst.

‘Nothing! Get the hell out!’

‘Sir. May I take the car?’ Ng asked.

‘Take any goddamn thing! Get the hell out!’

All night, after getting Kling into bed, Ng had thought of Shannon Jamison. This beautiful, gentle woman must not die, Ng kept telling himself as he tossed and turned in his bed. But how to save her without being disloyal to his master? His mind had shifted to Kling. This man had done so much for him and his mother. Ng moaned softly to himself. He was sure that Kling would kill this woman as he would kill a fly. How to save her?

There was time… ten days. Ng thought of the pleasure he would get, seeing Shannon again. He would get her flowers and breakfast.

Watched by Beryl from her window, he got in the car and drove down to the highway. While Kling had been snoring in his bed, Ng had taken a fifty-dollar bill from Kling’s well stuffed wallet. The only place where Ng could buy flowers was at the airport. He bought roses and two orchids. By the time he reached Lucy Loveheart’s residence, Lepski was parked opposite, waiting and hopefully watching.

He saw Ng drive down into the garage.

A slimly built Vietnamese!

Lepski slid out of his car. He was elated. It looked as if his hunch was paying off! Cautiously, he walked down the ramp of the underground garage in time to see the elevator’s indicator show that the cage had gone to the top floor.

Returning to his car, he now felt almost certain that Sherman Jamison’s wife was hidden on the top floor of Lucy Loveheart’s brothel.

With the patience of a dedicated cop, Lepski lit a cigarette, settled himself and awaited further developments.

Unaware that he had been watched, Ng stood before the door of the Whipping room, his heart thumping. He clutched the bouquet of flowers. He tapped on the door. When he heard nothing, he tapped again.

Shannon who had passed a restless night, hearing the persistent tapping, started up from the bed. With a clutch of fear, she called, ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s Kim, ma’am,’ Ng said. ‘May I come in?’

Shannon gave a gasp of relief. She felt she could handle this odd Vietnamese.

‘Yes, come in. Give me five minutes.’ She slid out of the bed and went into the bathroom.

‘I’m sorry to be so early, ma’am,’ Ng said as he entered the living-room. ‘I wanted to give you breakfast.’

Shannon didn’t hear any of this as she was in the bathroom.

Finding a vase, Ng filled it with water and arranged the flowers. He set the vase on the table, then went into the kitchen and made coffee.

He was setting the table as Shannon came in. She was wearing a kimono that Lucan had bought and, to Ng, she looked so beautiful he caught his breath.

‘Ma’am, some toast?’ he asked, regarding her with adoring eyes.

‘No, thank you. Coffee will be fine,’ Shannon said, then, seeing the flowers, she exclaimed, ‘How lovely! Thank you, Kim. How kind you are!’

‘It is nothing, ma’am.’ He poured the coffee. ‘I do hope you found the food acceptable. I have been worrying. These frozen packs aren’t much.’ He held a chair for her to sit down at the table. ‘I would so much like to cook you a good lunch. Would you allow me to do this, please? I can prepare you an excellent meal of saffron rice chicken with lychee. Would you like that, ma’am?’

Shannon stirred sugar into her coffee, her mind active. She had now come to the conclusion that this odd Vietnamese youth had fallen in love with her.

‘That sounds marvellous, Kim.’ She forced a smile. ‘I’d love that.’

‘I will arrange it, ma’am. It will give me great pleasure.’

She sipped the excellent coffee and regarded him.

‘Kim, please be frank with me. I feel you are a friend. I am a prisoner here, and I do realize how fortunate I am to have such a nice, kind jailer. I am worried. My husband and I don’t get along any more.’ She put down the cup. ‘He wants to marry another woman. I keep asking myself if he will pay the ransom for me to be released.’

Ng nodded.

‘Oh, yes, ma’am. I’ve already told you. He will have to pay the ransom. My master has him in a squeeze. You have nothing to worry about.’

‘What squeeze?’ Shannon asked, forcing her voice to sound casual.

‘That I can’t tell you, ma’am. I promise you, when the ransom is paid, you will be safe.’

‘There is another thing that worries me,’ Shannon said, looking directly at Ng. ‘A few months ago, my husband suffered a heart attack. Suppose he had a fatal attack before the ransom was paid. What would happen to me?’

Ng stared at her.

‘Whatever happens, you will go free.’ He moved to the door. ‘I will arrange your lunch. You have nothing to worry about.’

As he rode down in the elevator, his mind churned with excitement.

Here was the solution!

With Jamison dead, there would be no ransom. This lovely woman would be freed. His master would lose interest. No money… no killing.

He felt confident he could get into Jamison’s villa and kill him.

That was the solution!

There was time. First, he wanted to show this lovely woman how well he could cook. As he walked up the ramp of the garage, he reminded himself of the ingredients he would have to buy.

As he hurried along the sidewalk towards the big self-service store, Lepski slid out of his car and followed him.