Peking & The Tulip Affair

Chapter 1

Mark Harrison shoved his suitcase into the back of the taxi and got in. "You speak English?"

The Thai driver turned his head and nodded, showing crooked teeth. "Yes, sir. Very good. Where you go?"

"Fifty-six Suriwongse Road. That's the Metropole Hotel."

"Yes, yes. I take you."

The taxi started with a jerk and then it rolled away from the curb. Harrison turned to stare out the rear window at the airport. A man was pointing to the cab he was in and talking excitedly to the driver of a blue sedan. The man got in and the sedan roared into life.

Harrison frowned and turned to face the driver. He had to be imagining things. No one knew he was in Thailand except Hawk and Tulip. Well, Harrison had been in Bangkok before and knew his way around. He said to the driver, "Turn into Dindang Road."

The driver nodded his head and did as he was told. Under Harrison's directions, the driver shot into Petburi Road next and then turned left at Chakapong. He drove past the Temple of the Emerald Buddha. Harrison looked back. The sedan was no longer in sight He told the driver to head for the Metropole and then leaned back and lit a cigarette.

Mark Harrison was thirty-four, with sand-colored hair and a craggy face. He had a good athletic body which he always kept in trim.

His hotel room was on the seventh floor. He unpacked, put away his things, and examined the Ruger nine-shot automatic. It was in excellent working order. He then used the phone to call the number Tulip had given him.

"Yes?" The voice was-male, gruff, almost metallic.

"Tulip sends his regards."

"Oh, yes. And how was your trip?"

"Fine. I had some company before"

"We can't talk over the phone. Can you come over?"

"Sure. Where are you?"

The voice over the phone gave directions. Then there was a click, and the line was dead.

Mark Harrison thoughtfully replaced the receiver in its cradle. He didn't like this. He didn't like this one bit.

The Ruger automatic went into the holster under his left armpit. He went down, found a waiting taxi at the corner, and had the driver take him to a small house on Pahurat Road.

He paid the driver, walked to the front door, and found a black bar set in the jamb. He thumbed it Presently the door opened, and a burly man in a Chinese-red kimono admitted him.

The front room was spacious, with thick carpets, blond wood furniture and Chinese silk prints on the walls.

"Sit down," the burly man said. "Make yourself at home. Want a drink?"

"Gin and bitters, if you have it"

"Sure. I'll be right back."

Harrison seated himself in a club chair and looked about. The burly man just didn't fit in these surroundings. But in this business one had to expect the unexpected.

The burly man came back with two drinks and handed Harrison one. He sat down and seemed to study the AXE agent "You say you were followed?" the man said.

Harrison nodded. He sipped his drink.

"Just doesn't seem possible."

"By the way," Harrison said, "you do have a name, I hope?"

"Carpenter. Rudy Carpenter."

"Tulip didn't tell me much. Just gave me your number to call. He said you would set things up for me."

"Yes." Carpenter looked amused. "I get you information for you to pass on to your people."

Harrison drank a third of his gin and bitters. "You seem to think that's funny."

"I suppose you're armed?"

Harrison's eyes narrowed. There was something definitely wrong here, and he was finding it hard to think. There was a dull ache in the back of his skull.

Rudy Carpenter got to his feet. "I added something to your drink, Mr. Harrison. You can try for your gun but you'll never make it Yes, you were followed from the airport. By my men. But you managed to shake them, didn't you? It doesn't matter. I knew you would call me." He walked to the club chair where Harrison was slumped. He wondered if the dead man had heard his last sentences. He lifted his head and bellowed, "Shigeta."

A sharp-featured Japanese walked in, carrying a cloth sack. He was dressed in a business suit.

"Remove all identification," Carpenter ordered. "You know what else to do." The burly man walked out.

Shigeta took everything out of the dead man's pockets and then tore the label from inside the jacket He removed a gold watch and a signet ring from the late Mark Harrison.

Then Shigeta made a phone call.

He smoked three cigarettes while waiting. It was dark when he heard a car stop outside. There were footsteps, and Shigeta peered out the window. He opened the door and another Japanese walked in. Shigeta spoke rapidly to the man and then walked into another room and returned with lead weights.

They put the body and the weights into the cloth sack. A heavy cord tied around the mouth of the sack made the body secure.

They opened the door, made sure the street was deserted, and carried the body out to the car. Shigeta stayed in back with the body while his companion drove to the dock where the body was put in a small sampan. A grinning middle-aged woman rowed them out to where the water was deep.

The two Japanese tossed the body overboard and watched it sink in the Chao Phraya River.

The woman rowed them back to the dock. Shigeta gave her 200 baht. The woman put her money away, bowed, smiled, said, "Sawaddee."

Shigeta and his companion made their way to the car and drove off.

Chapter 2

Kris Bancroft had a Swedish mother and an English father. Her Nordic features were inherited from her mother, who was still a beautiful woman. Kris poised at the edge of the diving board; then, with the grace of a swan, sailed through the air and cut the water sharply. Her head, encased in a Latex swimming cap, bobbed to the surface of the water. She swam to the lip of the pool, shifted her body out of the water, and lay back on the concrete deck.

Kris was thirty-one, a widow, with the firm body of a twenty-year-old girl. Her teeth were white and even, her lips full and red. She had a perfect body with firm, rounded promontories that poked out the upper half of her two-piece swimsuit. Her thighs were rounded and deeply tanned.

Kris sat up when she saw the tall, bronzed giant approaching with two Stingers. She took off her cap and ran her ringers through her blonde tresses. She studied the man in the quilted robe, and her thoughts went back to last night when she had spent those heavenly hours in his arms. She had never before been so thrilled by a man's lovemaking.

The man sank down onto his haunches and gave her one of the Stingers. "I saw you dive. I'm impressed."

"I'm glad I impress you," she said, putting extra warmth in her voice. "You did a very good job of impressing me — last night."

"It took me two solid days to talk you into bed," he reminded her with a crooked grin on his tanned face.

"I'm sorry now I waited so long»

The bantering went on for a while till a bellboy interrupted them. "There's a call for you, Mr. Carter. You can take it in the bar."

Nick excused himself, followed the boy into the bar, and picked up the receiver.

"How's the vacation coming along?"

Nick Carter recognized Hawk's familiar voice. "Something tells me this vacation is coming to an abrupt end."

"Can't be helped. Try to be back by this evening. I'll be staying late."

"Will do." Nick hung up and walked back to the swimming-pool area. Kris had moved to a beach chair, her long legs stretched out, twin columns of perfection.

"You've got beautiful legs," Nick said. "I wish I could stay and admire them forever but I'll be leaving soon."

Kris reached out to touch his arm. "Isn't there anything that will induce you to stay?"

Nick shook his head gently. "I'm may be back."

"And I may not be here."

Nick hated goodbyes. He always felt awkward. He proposed they have a last drink together, and Kris agreed.

She watched him walk away to the tap room. She knew it would be a long time before she found someone like him — if ever.

Hawk looked tired, more tired than usual. He motioned Nick to the chair in front of his desk and the tall, broad-shouldered man sat down. Hawk got right to the point. "About a month ago I sent out three agents for the express purpose of filtering information back about ChiCom movements in the Far East Norwich in Singapore, Bennet in Hanoi, and Harrison in Bangkok. This morning Harold Rustoff of CIA paid me a visit with some startling news. All the info I got, and which I passed on to Rustoff, has been false."

Nick's face and voice were emotionless. "You think they were caught?"

Hawk shrugged. "I don't think they even got started."

"Then they were sold out," Nick said.

"And enemy agents took their places." Hawk toyed with a yellow pencil. "Has to be. No other explanation. They didn't sell out and go over to the other side. Not all three at the same time. Perhaps one, maybe, but all three? Nope." Hawk looked at Nick with grim eyes. "They went through the Hong Kong contact."

"Tulip." Nick lit a gold-tipped cigarette. "I can't see Tulip selling out, either."

"You and Tulip are rather close."

Nick didn't answer.

"All right," Hawk said. "It's your baby. Go to Bangkok and find out what you can. If Tulip turned double…" Hawk left it unsaid.

"What about Singapore and Hanoi?"

"You just worry about Bangkok. I'm more interested in the traitor. I'll give odds it's Tulip."

Nick got to his feet. Hawk had to be right about Tulip. Everything pointed to Tulip. Three AXE agents, and Tulip had thrown them to the wolves. But Nick wanted to be sure. He liked Tulip. He and Tulip were friends.

"I want to give Tulip every chance," Nick said.

Hawk nodded his head. "I understand. That's why I'm sending you to Bangkok first."

The Thai people originated in Southeast China, where they founded the independent Kingdom of Nanchao in 650 a.d. In 1243 they were driven out by the armies of Kublai Khan and moved south to what is known today as Thailand.

Nick's plane landed at Don Muang Airport late in the afternoon. He showed his passport, his visa, and his International Certificate of Health, and passed through.

Nick had his stiletto in its sheath strapped around his arm, and his Luger was in the false bottom of his suitcase.

A taxi took him to the Royal Hotel on Rajadamnern Avenue. He registered, and a bellboy, carrying his suitcase, led the way to his room on the third floor. He tipped the boy 100 satangs and closed the door after him.

Nick took the Luger out of the false bottom of his suitcase, put it under his pillow, took off his shoes, and sprawled out on the bed. When it was dark he woke and went into the bathroom, where he undressed and showered. He put on fresh underwear, fresh socks, and the suit he had worn. With his stiletto Hugo and Luger Wilhelmina for company, he went out.

Nick didn't like typical Thai food because it was highly spiced. He found an Italian restaurant and ate. He drank a glass of sherry, paid the bill, and continued on his way.

The man who had taken Harrison's place had to be at the Metropole. He would have to stay there to receive Hawk's communications.

Nick walked up the seven flights, made his way to the right room, used the lockpicker's special, drew out Hugo, and slipped inside.

The rooms were dark.

He made sure no one was home before he turned on the lights. He searched through everything. He found a Ruger nine-shot automatic, a gun Harrison favored. But there were cold cigar butts in trays, and Harrison didn't smoke cigars. The clothes weren't Harrison's. He found a stainless-steel watch of Russian make in a bureau drawer.

Nick turned out the lights, sank into a club chair and waited. He didn't smoke a cigarette, even though he wanted one. He was like a statue, sitting in the club chair, hardly a muscle moving.

Every so often he would look at the luminous dial of his watch. Then he stopped doing that.

The sound of metal against metal reached him. He stiffened slightly, then forced himself to relax. The key turned the lock, the door opened, the lights came on, and the door closed.

Nick came out of the chair in a half turn, the Luger in his hand. The man was slightly bald, thin, wearing a pin-stripe suit. He was over forty. He seemed stunned at first at sight of Nick, and then he smiled. "You… uh… have made a mistake, my friend." He spoke English with an East European accent. "I am not rich. You may search…"

"Are you Mr. Harrison?" Nick asked softly.

"Harrison?" The man's eyes darted from Nick's face to Wilhelmina and back to Nick's face. "Mr. Harrison is away. On business. He will be back shortly. I will give him your message."

Nick motioned with the Luger. "Into the bedroom."

"If I scream…"

"You won't," Nick said. "I'll kill you, and you know it."

The man licked his lower lip. He looked from Nick to the door as if debating his chances. He knew his chances to get away were no good. He went into the bedroom, Nick behind him.

Nick told the man to sit on the bed.

The man sat. There was fear etched on his face. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Tie you up like a Christmas package."

Fear made his voice strained. "You're going to torture me. I–I can't stand torture. I can't tell you anything. I don't know anything. You have to believe me."

"Sure. Now lie back."

"No." The man opened his mouth to scream and Nick slammed the gun barrel against the man's head.

When the man regained consciousness, he was tied and gagged. Fear made his eyes round as an owl's. His shirt and undershirt had been ripped down to his belt, exposing his thin, naked chest.

Ruthlessly, Nick used Hugo till there was a red bloody pattern of crisscrossing lines on the man's chest. He never went deep, just deep enough to draw blood and inflict pain.

"I'm going to take off your gag," Nick said. "If you yell, I'll cut your throat."

Weakly, the man nodded his head.

Nick removed the gag.

"A doctor," the man whispered. "Get me a doctor."

"Sure," Nick said, "but not right now. You'll answer my questions first. If I suspect you're lying, you won't need a doctor. Understand?"

"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. Her 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."

Nick put his glass down. "When Tulip needed forged passports, false identification papers and the like, he went to you. He paid you well. That money came from the organization I work for, and you know it. Your main racket is heroin, but you like to keep your fingers busy in other enterprises. Chances are you know about Tulip turning double. You know everything else. Now let's stop playing games, Jimmy."

"I told you I can't help you," Jimmy said coldly. His eyes were measuring Nick. He looked like a snake watching a mouse. "You've come for nothing, Nick."

Nick calmly lit a cigarette. "I could kill you, Jimmy. Or torture you. Or blow the whistle and let the police have you. I've never bothered you because you sometimes came in handy. But if you don't help me now, I'll lean on you and I'll lean hard."

"I could have you dead in five minutes, Nick. Everybody on this shrimp farm works for me. I even have some Triads on the place. They'd just as soon kill you as look at you."

The Triads were the gangsters who controlled the prostitution in Hong Kong. They had originally started about three hundred years ago as patriotic societies to overthrow the Manchus. Today, their main function was crime.

With one fluid movement, Nick was up and bending over Jimmy, and Hugo was out with the point of steel at the Chinese's throat. "Shall I draw blood?" The point was pressing against the taut skin.

Nick looked into Jimmy's eyes. There was no fear there. Jimmy had guts. Nick grinned like a banshee. "I've always had a suppressed desire to cut off a man's head and use it as an ashtray."

Jimmy's lips moved. "Drop dead."

Nick slowly relented. He eased the pressure, but Hugo had already taken a bite and a thin stream of blood ran down onto Jimmy's shirt collar. "Maybe I'm going at this the wrong way, Jimmy. Are you obligated to Tulip? Is that why you're covering for him? What's the answer, Jimmy?"

"It's a matter of honor."

"Don't go noble on me, Jimmy. You're in a bad spot. I either kill you or turn you over to the cops. You don't owe Tulip a thing."

"Let me think about it."

"Sure. I'll give you a whole minute."

Jimmy was a practical man. He did have a kind of code. Most gangsters did. The American gangster, when shot by a rival mob, never squealed when questioned by the police if he was found alive. If he was dying, then he gave up the ghost with his lips sealed. That was his code.

Jimmy How had a lot to live for. He had money, women, and an enterprising business. He wasn't afraid of dying. He was sure he had proved that to Nick. If he died he would have nothing. If he went to prison he would lose everything. It didn't matter how long he stayed in prison. Once he was in a cell his confederates would take over and he would be out in the cold. And there was May Chin. Jimmy had liked her. What did he owe Tulip? Nick was right He didn't owe Tulip a damn thing.

Jimmy then explained to Nick that he would lose a great deal if it became known that he had betrayed Tulip.

Nick knew how the Oriental felt about losing face and prestige. "I realize that. No one will ever know."

"You'll have to kill him." Jimmy reached for a cigarette in an ivory box and lit it. "I felt honor-bound to help Tulip. You understand how it is, Nick."

"Sure, sure."

Tulip was on Cheung Chau Island. There was an old deserted house on the island built by a Russian general of the white army after the revolution. Jimmy had bought the house two years ago from a dealer in opium. The dealer had used the house to store opium produced in Turkey and Iran and smuggled out through Beirut. This opium was considered a finer grade than that produced from the Yunnan poppy. Tulip was now hidden in that same house.

"Why didn't Tulip get the hell out of Hong Kong?" Nick wanted to know.

Jimmy grinned crookedly. "He wants to sleep nights. He knew they would send you after him. Even a frightened rat stops running."

"Did you know he and a Chinese named Wong made a try for me with a machine gun?"

"I'd heard about it."

"Why did he turn traitor?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Maybe he wanted the finer things in life. That takes money, and the Chinese Reds pay well." Jimmy mashed out his cigarette. "I'm sending a man tonight to bring him supplies. You can tag along partway. While my man gives Tulip the supplies, you can go in the back way."

"You're too generous."

Jimmy bit his lower lip. "You'll have to kill him. That's the deal. I can't afford to have him talk. I'll be ruined."

"Just don't cross me," Nick warned. "If you do I'll come back and kill you on sight"

Jimmy winced. "You hurt my feelings, Nick."

"You're like me; you have no feelings."

Jimmy looked up at Nick. "You and Tulip were buddy-buddy. He told me so. Hard thing to knock off a friend."

"We'll see. Now where do I meet your man?"

"At the dock. His name is Yun Lee. You can't miss him. Hell be wearing a big straw hat and a stupid grin on his face."

Chapter 6

There was time to kill and Nick didn't want to spend it alone. He deliberately went out to get himself a girl.

He found her in the Oriental, a cabaret in Kowloon.

Her name was Mimi Tong and she was very pretty. She smelled good too. Jasmine. Her eyes weren't slanted and she had that soft Eurasian look but she insisted she was all Chinese.

Nick didn't care one way or another. She had a supple body that fit neatly against his as they danced. He held her close and smelled her perfume and he almost forgot the past few days.

"You like me?" Her arm was cool against his neck.

"Very much,"

"Are you hungry?"

"What?" The question surprised him.

"I haven't had dinner" she explained.

"Okay. But you'll have to eat alone. I'll watch."

They went to the Rice Bowl on Kimberley Road and he watched her eat. "Are you new in Hong Kong?" she asked between bites.

"Not exactly."

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"I'm a man of action, and I hope to prove it to you."

She poured almond tea into her cup. "Do you like to gamble?"

"I have other things on my mind now besides gambling."

She giggled. "You watched me eat. Now you can watch me gamble."

Nick's face took on a stern look. He wanted to know if she was taking him for a ride.

She reached out and held his hand. "You won't be disappointed." There was promise in her eyes. A promise of a thousand delights. "I like you, Nick. I want to have some fun. I ate a good dinner; now I want to gamble. Then we'll get together for the most beautiful time ever. Mimi Tong always keeps her promises."

"You talked me into it. Where do we go from here?"

"Macao."

Nick shook his head. "I'll have to take a raincheck. There's no time. I have an appointment."

"I'll gamble for only an hour," she promised. "You won't miss your appointment."

"Okay, Mimi. Let's get the hell out of here."

The hydrofoil zipped across forty miles of water to Macao, the oldest foreign settlement in the Far East. Macao had always been under the flag of Portugal. They went to the Estoril, where Mimi played roulette, hi-lo, blackjack and fan-tan. She won two hundred and thirty dollars and insisted on giving Nick half of it. After all, she said, she had played with his money. It was only fair he should take half.

Mimi knew of a hotel nearby. Nick would have to pay more than the room would be worth because they had no luggage. But it would be worth it, she promised.

They walked past the Barrier Gate which separated Macao from Red China.

The room was on the second floor, and a cool breeze came in. He looked out the window and saw the silver of the moon on the dark water. Behind him Mimi was getting undressed. When she was naked she called out to him.

Her body was slim and graceful and her breasts were young with impudent little nipples. She helped him undress, and then they were on the bed, making love.

Later, he learned that she liked to talk in bed. She told him of her younger sister who was always "chasing the dragon." Nick knew what that expression meant. Inhaling heroin fumes. It was the Hong Kong addict's favorite way of taking heroin.

"Can't you stop her?"

She shook her head. Mimi had no control over her younger sister. She could tell Nick a few things about her sister, but she didn't want to shock him.

"Then don't," he said. "I shock very easily."

She stretched, put her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her. "I like you very much, Nick." She kissed him very hard, bruising his lips.

Soon it was time for them to leave. They dressed and went down. The hydrofoil took them back to Hong Kong. Nick enjoyed the spray of water that kept hitting his face.

Muni seemed reluctant to part. "Must you keep that appointment?" she asked.

"I have no choice," Nick told her.

"When will I see you again?"

"I'm leaving Hong Kong," he said. "Probably tomorrow."

"So this must be goodbye."

"That doesn't mean we won't see each other again. I travel a hell of a lot."

They kissed, and they didn't care who stared.

Chapter 7

Nick met Yun Lee at the dock. Yun Lee was a middle-aged man wearing a big straw hat, a long coolie coat, and pajamalike pants. He grinned stupidly and bowed. He had surprisingly intelligent eyes that seemed to ransack Nick's face as if to find out what type of man Nick was. He spoke a little English. There was a bundle under his arm.

It took an hour to get to Cheung Chau Island from Hong Kong by ferry. A British warship, trim and sleek, sailed across the bow of the ferry. Nick heard the water lapping at the sides of the ferry. The sky was lousy with stars. Nick wished it was all over.

The hour seemed like an eternity.

There were tourists on the ferry, on their way to visit the fishing village on the island. Nick envied them. The tourists. School teachers, businessmen and their wives, government employees — from all over the world to see Hong Kong, the exotic island, the enchanting island. On their vacation. They were interested only in having a good time.

And what the hell was wrong with that?

Nick knew he wouldn't change places with any one of the tourists on the ferry. He was doing what he wanted to do. Sure, he griped sometimes. Even the professional soldier sometimes griped. It was good for the soul. He lived in a dark world inhabited by dark people. Dark, evil people and that was inevitable. They made his world dark. And if it wasn't for the dark evil people he wouldn't be necessary. Maybe he should be grateful to them. They had helped create him. Nick Carter. N3. Killmaster. AXEman.

A breeze, shot with sea spray, cooled his face.

They were approaching the island. Another five minutes. Then the hunt would begin.

Five minutes… four minutes… three minutes.

The ferry docked, and Nick was alongside Yun Lee as the passengers disembarked. Though the streets were crowded, there wasn't the hustle and bustle one found in Hong Kong.

Yun Lee and Nick skirted the village and kept on going. Then Nick started to lag behind. Yun Lee looked back once, nodded his head at Nick and kept on going.

It was a deserted part of the island, and the village was far behind. It seemed that he and Yun Lee were alone in the world. There was no noise. Not even the sound of night birds or crickets. This part of the island was well lighted by moonlight. To Nick's left was the base of a low, sloping hill. He started for the hill, climbed it part way, and rounded it till he saw the house. He saw Yun Lee at the front door.

All he had to do was climb down, make for the back of the house, and confront Tulip. But he waited.

The front door opened and Yun Lee walked in.

It was cool and breezy and he felt a sixth sense telling him to wait… wait… wait…

The moon was low and full with a thousand stars for company.

How long did it take Yun Lee to deliver a bundle of supplies? It was almost five minutes. Was Tulip shooting the breeze with Yun Lee? Tulip spoke Chinese.

This was the time to go down and approach the house from the back. But something kept him rooted to the spot.

His hands felt clammy.

The door was opening. Yun Lee was leaving. The straw hat, the long coolie coat. Yun Lee seemed taller.

Nick drew the Luger from its holster. He started down the sloping hill He was near the base of it and Yun Lee was a few yards away, his back to Nick.

"Wait a minute," Nick called out.

Yun Lee spun around. But it wasn't Yun Lee. The moonlight was on his face. It was Tulip. And there was the gun. It jumped and barked.

Nick fired twice, and Tulip spun around, dropping his gun, his hands on his belly.

Nick ran toward the crumpling man. He saw Tulip hit the ground. Nick kicked at the gun Tulip had dropped. It sailed away and landed somewhere with a thud.

Nick knelt and saw Tulip's hands over his belly. The blood was oozing between his fingers.

Tulip grinned up at Nick, and then his face twisted in pain. His breathing came in tortured gasps. "I… knew you were going to… find me. Had to be you, Nick."

"Jimmy How crossed me."

"No. I knew… something was up. Yun Lee. His eyes. He looked at me… as if I was… already dead."

"Why did you turn double?"

Tulip's face was pasty-white in the moonlight. His voice was weak. "Money. Only live once, Nick. Might… as well live… good."

"Did you have to loll May?"

"She was… just a tramp. Did her a… favor."

"She loved you, Tulip."

"Sure. She… was weak. I wasn't… weak. I proved it Didn't I… Nick? I… proved it Had to prove it…"

"Tulip." Nick shook the man's shoulder. "Tulip. Can you hear me?" He saw the open glazed eyes. Tulip was dead. Dead on an island under the moonlight. Nick stood up and holstered the Luger.

"Sorry, Tulip," he said. "But I only played the cards you dealt me."