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?"