Temple of Fear

Chapter 7

A trail like a bull moose on roller skates careering through a formal garden.

That, Hawk considered, was an apt description of the spoor left behind by Nick Carter. He was alone in his office, Aubrey and Terence having just departed, and after he finished going through a stack of yellow flimsies he spoke on the intercom to Delia Stokes.

"Cancel the red APB on Nick, Delia. Make it a yellow instead. All points to stand by, to offer any assistance if he asks for it, but not to interfere. He is not to be recognized, followed or reported on. Absolutely no interference unless he requests help. Got that?"

"Got it, sir."

"Right. Get it out at once."

Hawk clicked the intercom off and sat back, stripping a cigar without looking at it. He was playing a hunch. Nick Carter was onto something — God might know, for Hawk certainly didn't — and he had decided to stay out of it. Let Nick work it out his own way. If any man in the world could take care of himself it was Killmaster.

Hawk picked up one of the flimsies and studied it again. His thin mouth, which often reminded Nick of a wolf trap, quirked in a dry smile. Ames had done his job well. It was all here — as far as Tokyo International Airport.

Nick, accompanied by four Japanese Girl Scouts, had boarded a Northwest Airlines plane in Washington. He had been in a gay mood and had insisted on kissing a stewardess and shaking hands with the Captain. At no time had he been really obnoxious, or only slightly, and it was only when he insisted on dancing in the aisle that the co-captain had been summoned to quiet him down. Later he had ordered champagne for all aboard the plane. He had led the other passengers in song, proclaiming that he was a flower child and that love was his thing.

The Girl Scouts had managed to control him fairly well, actually, and the crew, questioned by Ames over long distance, admitted that the flight had been lively and different. Not that they would care to do it again.

They had, with absolutely no reluctance, poured Nick off at Tokyo International and watched the Girl Scouts whisk him into Customs. Beyond that they did not know.

Ames, still by phone, had established that Nick and the Girl Scouts had gotten into a taxi and vanished into the wild melee of Tokyo traffic. And that was that.

And yet it was not quite all. Hawk turned to another yellow flimsy containing his own notes.

Cecil Aubrey, a little reluctantly, had at last admitted that his tip on Richard Philston had come from one Kunizo Matu, a retired karate teacher now living in Tokyo. Aubrey did not know exactly where in Tokyo.

Matu had lived in London for many years and had worked for MI5.

"We always suspected him of being a double," Aubrey had said. "We thought he worked for Jap Intelligence, too, but we could never prove it. We didn't really care at the moment. Our, er, interests didn't clash and he did a good job for us."

Hawk had gotten out some old files and searched back. His memory was very nearly perfect, but he liked to confirm.

Nick Carter had known Kunizo Matu in London, in fact, used him on a couple of jobs. There was not much else to be gleaned from the barren reports. Nick Carter had a way of keeping personal business just that — personal.

And yet — Hawk sighed and pushed the stack of papers away. He stared at the Western Union clock. This was a devious profession and very seldom did the left hand know what the right was doing.

Ames had searched the apartment and found Nick's Luger and stiletto in the mattress. That was odd, Hawk conceded. He must feel naked without them.

But Girl Scouts! How in hell had they gotten into the act? Hawk began to laugh, a thing he very rarely did. Gradually he lost control and sat helplessly in the chair, eyes tearing, and laughed until his chest muscles began to pain.

Delia Stokes did not believe it at first. She peered through the door. Sure enough. The old man was sitting there and laughing like a loon.