In front of the hotel, Nick paid the taxi driver and walked briskly into the building without looking around. Once inside he asked the desk clerk for a room with a view.
He got one overlooking the harbor. Directly below, waves of heads flowed and zigzagged like ants hurrying nowhere. Nick stood slightly to the side of the window watching moonlight flicker across the water. When he had tipped and dismissed the bell boy, he turned off all the lights in the room and returned to the window. Salty air reached his nostrils, mingled with the smell of cooking fish. He heard hundreds of voices from the sidewalk. He studied the faces carefully, and not seeing what he wanted, moved quickly across the window to make himself as lousy a target as possible. The view from the other side proved more revealing.
One man did not move with the crowd. Neither did he slice through it. He stood under a street lamp with a newspaper in his hands.
God! Nick thought. Not a newspaper! At night, in the middle of a crowd, under a poor street lamp — reading a newspaper?
Too many questions were unanswered. Killmaster knew he could lose this obvious amateur when and if he desired. But he wanted answers. And Mr. Whatsit following him was the first forward step he’d made since starting this assignment. As Nick watched, a second, heavily built man dressed like a coolie approached the first. His left arm was curled around a brown-paper-wrapped bundle. Words were exchanged. The first man pointed to the bundle, shaking his head. More words were exchanged, becoming heated. The second man thrust the bundle at the first. He started to refuse it, then grudgingly took it. He turned his back on the second man and melted into the crowd. The hotel was now being watched by the second man.
Nick figured Mr. Whatsit would be changing into a coolie costume about now. That’s probably what was in the bundle. Killmaster’s mind clicked off a plan. Good ideas wen digested, formed, worked over, placed into a slot to become part of the plan. But still it was rough. Any plan snatched cold out of the air was rough. Nick knew this. Polishing would come in steps as the plan was executed. At least now he would begin getting some answers.
Nick moved away from the window. He unpacked his suitcase, and when it was empty, he removed the hidden drawer. From this drawer he took out a small bundle not unlike the one the second man had carried. He unfurled the cloth of the bundle and rerolled it lengthwise. Still in darkness, he undressed completely, removing his weapons and laying them on the bed. When he was naked he carefully peeled the gelatin, flesh-toned padding from around his waist. It clung stubbornly, taking some of his belly-hair as he pulled. He worked with it for half an hour and found himself sweating heavily from the pain of pulled hair. Finally, he had it off. He let it fall to the floor at his feet and permitted himself the luxury of rubbing and scratching his belly. When he was satisfied, he took Hugo, his stiletto, and the padding into the bathroom. He slit the membrane holding in the gelatin and let the gooey stuff plop into the toilet. It took four flushings to get it all down. He followed it with the membrane itself. Then Nick returned to the window.
Mr. Whatsit had rejoined the second man. He too now looked like a coolie. As Nick watched them, he felt dirty from the drying sweat. But he smiled. They were the beginning. As he moved into the light of answers to his questions, he knew he would have two shadows.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nick Carter closed the draperies across the window and turned the lights on in the room. Moving to the bathroom, he took a leisurely shower, then shaved carefully. He knew the worst hardship on the two men waiting for him outside would be time. Waiting for him to do something was the tough part. He knew this because he had been there once or twice himself. And the longer he kept them waiting, the more careless they would become.
When he was finished in the bathroom, Nick padded barefoot to the bed. He picked up the rolled cloth and fastened it around his waist. When he was satisfied, he hung his tiny gas bomb between his legs, then stepped into his shorts, pulling the waistband up over the padding. He checked his profile in the bathroom mirror. The rolled cloth did not look as real as the gelatin had, but it was the best he could do. Back by the bed, Nick finished dressing, attaching Hugo to his arm and Wilhelmina, the Luger, in the waist of his pants. It was time for something to eat.
Killmaster left all the lights on in his room. He figured one of the two men would probably want to search it.
There was no sense making it difficult for them. By the time he finished eating they should be done.
In the hotel dining room, Nick had a light meal. He expected trouble, and when it came he didn’t want to be handicapped by a full stomach. When the last dish had been cleared away, he leisurely smoked a cigarette. Forty-five minutes had passed since he left his room. When he had finished the cigarette, he paid the check and stepped once again into the cold night air.
His two followers were no longer under the street lamp. It took him a few minutes to get used to the cold, then he began walking briskly toward the harbor. Because of the late hour, the crowds along the sidewalks had diminished somewhat. Nick threaded his way through them without looking back. But by the time he reached the ferry landing he began to worry. The two men were obviously amateurs. Was it possible he had lost them already?
There was a small group waiting at the landing. Six cars were lined up almost to the water’s edge. As Nick approached the group, he could see lights of the ferry coming toward the landing. He joined the others, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and hunched his shoulders against the cold.
The lights drew closer, giving shape to the huge vessel. The low chug of the engine changed pitch. Water around the landing boiled white as the propellers were reversed. The people around Nick moved slowly toward the approaching monster. Nick moved with them. He went aboard and quickly climbed the ladder to the second deck. At the rail his keen eyes scanned the dock. Two of the cars were already aboard. But he could not see his two shadows. Killmaster lit a cigarette, keeping his eyes on the deck below him.
When the last car was loaded, Nick decided to leave the ferry and look for his two followers. It was possible they were lost. As he moved away from the railing to the ladder he caught a glimpse of two coolies trotting along the dock toward the landing. The smaller man leaped aboard easily, but the heavier, slow-moving one did no leaping. He probably hadn’t done any in a long while. He tripped coming aboard and almost fell. The smaller man helped him with difficulty.
Nick smiled. Welcome aboard, gentlemen, he thought. Now if this ancient tub could just get him across the harbor without sinking, he’d lead them a merry chase until they decided to make their move.
The huge ferry chugged away from the landing, rolling slightly as it moved into open water. Nick remained on the second deck, close to the rail. He could no longer see the two coolies but he felt their eyes watching him. The biting wind had moisture in it. Another rainstorm was coming. Nick watched the other passengers huddled together against the cold. He kept his back to the wind. The ferry creaked and bobbed, but it didn’t sink.
Killmaster waited on his second-deck perch until the last car rolled off into the Kowloon side of the harbor. As he left the ferry, he scanned the faces of the people around him. His two shadows were not among them.
On the landing, Nick hired a rickshaw, gave the boy the address of the Bar Wonderful, a small place he had been to before. He had no intention of going straight to the professor. There was a possibility his two followers didn’t know where the professor was, and hoped he would lead them to him. That didn’t make sense, but he had to consider all possibilities. Most likely they were following him to see if he knew where the professor was located. The fact that he came straight to Kowloon might have told them all they wanted to know. If so, then Nick should be eliminated quickly and without fuss. Trouble was coming. Nick could feel it. He had to be ready.