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When he entered the bar it had been clear and the sun shining. Now it was raining again in bucketfulls, a sheer gray wall of water that toppled on him like surf. Nick tugged down his hat brim and trudged toward a side door leading into the train shed. As he passed his jeep he saw that it was already half full of water.

Chapter 9

Jimmy Kim was smoking a cigarette near a baggage truck. He was a tall, good-looking man with shiny black hair and perfect teeth. Usually he dressed elegantly in tight pants and narrow shoes and a colorful sport jacket; today he was nondescript in the poncho and a dirty plaid cap.

They were on Platform 1. The station was a dank cavern smelling of sweat and urine. Down a way a group of Korean women squatted patiently, waiting for the local to Taegu.

Nick Carter halted beside Jimmy Kim. On Track 4 they were beginning to make up the Seoul train.

Nick lit a fresh cigarette. "What's the poop?"

"A Mr. and Mrs. Haikada Koto. Going to Seoul on business. She's tall for a Japanese and she does all the talking. Could be he doesn't know Japanese. Both of them wearing Western clothes. She's dowdy, plain, almost ugly. — but she doesn't, move like that, if you get what I mean?"

Nick nodded. "I get. But it isn't much to go on, is it? What put you on to them?" He failed to keep the impatience out of his voice and Jimmy Kim caught it. He smiled. "Patience, dad! It's sort of a funny story. In the first place they were the only possibles, so I stuck pretty close to them. And they didn't waste any time — they went straight to their car and got on." He nodded to Track 4 where a wheezing little switcher was shunting more cars in to join those already there.

"They're in their compartment now. Car 1066. They're locked in, and not answering the door. Sound a little funny?"

Before he answered, Nick shot a glance at the car. "You've got someone watching the other platform? They could go out a window."

Jimmy flashed his teeth. "Keep your cool, dad. You think I'm an amateur, maybe? Dinky Man is over there with a hammer or something, acting like a railroad man. They can't leave the car without our knowing."

Dinky Man was a short, powerful Korean whose real name was Chang Ho Choi. How he had come by the name of Dinky Man, Nick was never to discover. Jimmy said that Dinky Man was an ex-CID spy, had probably worked for the Commies when they had most of Korea, and could be trusted because he, Jimmy Kim, had enough on him to hang him. Nick accepted that. He trusted Jimmy — as far as he ever trusted anyone.

"We might have something this time," he told Jimmy now. "And we might not. Give me the rest of it."

"Sure. When the Kotos came off the ferry he was wearing a clean white patch over his left eye. Very clean. Like he'd just put it on. I didn't think much of it then — a lot of people wear patches. Or it could just be part of his disguise…"

Nick interrupted. "This Koto fits the part physically?"

"Perfect. A little guy, scrawny, made up to look like a Jap. If he isn't a Jap, of course."

"That's the big if I'm worrying about," said Nick. "Get on with it."

'They were in a hell of a hurry to get to their compartment," Jimmy went on. "I walked through the car once myself and their door was tight shut. I listened. Couldn't hear a thing."

Nick scowled at him. "That was stupid! You might have tipped them."

"I didn't. Now listen — I put Dinky Man on the job and went into the station, to the latrine, so I could use the radio. They got booths now, you know. Just like Stateside. When I came out I saw this kid at the station-master's desk. A kid in a dirty white sailor suit. So what? In a minute the stationmaster picked up the mike and started paging the Haikada Kotos!"

Nick stared at him. "Paging them? That doesn't make any sense at all. We must be wrong. The last thing in the world they would do is have somebody page them. We…"

Jimmy Kim's grin was wide. "They didn't. The ferry people did. Mr. Koto had lost a contact lens on board and it had been found. They sent a boy with it. A smart kid — he got the stationmaster to help him. He was looking for some won, of course."

Nick rubbed his lean jaw. A contact lens and a new patch over a man's eye. Just maybe!

"Maybe they didn't hear themselves being paged," said Jimmy Kim, "or maybe they didn't want to come out again. They didn't show up. The kid hung around for a minute or two, then started back to the ferry slip. I collared him. I gave him a wad of won, which I will put on my expense account, and got his story. After I got it I thought we had something — I called you again but no answer. You were on your way by then. Anyway — Mr. Koto lost the contact lens just before they docked. There was a big search for it, with no luck. The kid said Mr. Koto kept his hand over his left eye all the time they looked — said it hurt him. Finally they gave up. And when they landed Koto had the patch over his eye. The kid noticed that because he was still trying to find the lens and he felt sorry for poor Mr. Koto. Now, Nick, you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Nick squeezed his arm. "If you're right it was damned good thinking, Kim. Mr. Koto's left eye is blue!" Bennett had blue eyes.

"I think both of his eyes are blue," said Jimmy Kim. "And I never saw a blue-eyed Jap. Here, look at this."

He took something from his poncho pocket and handed it to Nick. A contact lens. Dark brown. "I bought it from the kid," said Jimmy Kim. He glanced at Nick and laughed softly. "I thought maybe you would want to give it back to Mr. Koto in person."

Nick Carter made his decision. It was worth a try. It felt right. Killmaster had a tremendous empathy for the hunted — he had been hunted so often himself — and he knew, had he been in the shoes of Bennett and the Widow, that he would have tried it this way.

"All right," he told Jimmy Kim. “I’ll buy it. I think we've got them. I'll try to get a compartment on the same car and…"

Jimmy Kim reached into his pocket again. "Have, yes, sar." He affected a pidgin at times, though he spoke perfect English. "I took the liberty, sar. You likee?" He handed Nick a ticket in a buff envelope.

Nick grinned. "I likee — you're a good boy and I'll tell them so in Washington. Now cut out the crap and listen."

"Yes, sahib."

"I've got to check this out," said Nick. "If we're right then okay — I'll handle it. All of it. If we're wrong I'll head back here as soon as I can — probably be faster to go on to Seoul and fly back. Meantime I'm making you 2IC, temporary case officer. You and Dinky Man stay on the job here. Keep meeting the ferries the same as before — those two, the Kotos, could be decoys. If anything pops here call me at the Chosen Hotel in Seoul after six in the morning — if I'm not there I'll probably be at Number 23 Dongjadong. That's out in Choonkoo. If worst comes to worst and this is a false trail, you might have to send Pok up for me in that thing you call a plane. I hope not."

Jimmy Kim showed all his teeth in a wide smile. He was delighted to be 2IC. "You're talking about the plane I love, dad. But that old jalopy will fly to Seoul and back, don't worry. It's about time we did a little work for you people, anyway. You've been subsidizing us long enough." The Flying Turtles, more formally known as Chosen Airways, Inc., had long been a "front" for AXE.

"We've been here too long," Nick said. "Let's move around a little. In a few minutes you circle around and check on that other platform and Dinky Man. We can't afford to take any chances now."