“That’s nonsense, man. Known the rascal for years. He’s not a Jap. The heat’s got you. Have some water. Go fan yourself.”
“Look, will you come with me or do I go and get a very smart apple on the local police force named Saxon? How would you like that, you overstuffed bottleneck?”
“Young man, if you were on this staff, I’d have you shot for that.”
“If I was on your staff, you wouldn’t have lived this long. Are you coming? I’ve got a taxi waiting. Just over to the Galle Face. Take you an hour maybe for the whole thing.”
He coughed again and cocked his eye at the ceiling. Then he fingered a paperweight. Then he picked up his hat and stick and said, “Move along, then! Let’s get done with it!”
The taxi driver popped out and opened the door for Colonel Rith-Lee. He hadn’t done that much for me. Privilege of the ruling class. I tried to tell him the story on the short ride to the hotel. He made derisive noises deep in his throat and moved a little farther away from me in furtive alarm.
We walked down the hall, and I pulled out my key. He tapped his leg impatiently with his stick while I unlocked the door. I let him go in first. He walked through the room until he could see Kaymark. Then he stopped so abruptly that I bumped into him. I stepped to the side to where I could also see the lieutenant.
My first thought was that he had lost an amazing amount of blood from the few cuts I had given him. The front of his tunic was drenched. He hung limply from his wrists, a gaudy motionless form. The colonel stepped forward and stooped over to where he could peer up into Kaymark’s face. He lifted his stick and nudged gently at the lieutenant’s forehead. The head tilted back a little. When he released the pressure, the head sagged forward again.
“Dead. Throat cut. Why’d you do it, man?”
“Me? When I left him he was okay. Somebody must have sneaked in here, but I don’t know how.”
He glared at me, and there was disgust and alarm in his narrow eyes. “All the room keys’re alike. Fit all the doors. No good. You did it. Better come along with me.”
I had been moving gradually toward the body. I jumped forward and clawed at the right-hand tunic pocket. The automatic was there. It stuck in the edge of the pocket. Before I could yank it free I felt a cold sharp object against the back of my neck.
“Step aside, man. Slowly now, or I’ll punch a hole in the back of your neck. Ought to do it anyway.” I let go of the gun and stepped to the side. He kept the sharp point against the back of my neck.
Finally he said, “Turn around, man.” He had recovered the automatic. He aimed it at my middle with his left hand. He held the hollow shell of the stick he carried in his left hand also; he fitted the slim blade of the long sword back into the stick. It chunked into place, and he gave the handle a half turn. During all this, he didn’t take his eyes off of me.
“You and I, we’ll go back to the bungalow. Damned nuisance. International murder. Have to get your government people in on it. Try it in the civil courts, I guess. Open-and-shut case. Nothing to it.”
Again they had used death to trump my ace. This time it looked like the end. I had a story to tell but it would have been easier to tell it to a deaf man than to the colonel. He stood in front of me and motioned me toward the door with the automatic. I didn’t move.
“Move along there. Don’t want to shoot you where you stand. You have to make out statements. Save me the trouble.”
“Colonel, will you tell me one thing? Why on earth would I kill Kaymark and then go and drag you here to look at the body?”
“Not much sense in it. Never imagined you American chaps had much sense. All gangsters and crooners. Move along now.” I could see why Kaymark had had such an easy time covering up the activities of the group which used the January Club as a headquarters. Again I didn’t move.
“Wait a minute. Suppose I take you to a man who knows who killed Kaymark. In fact, maybe he did it himself.”
“More nonsense.”
I had to get out of it. I knew that if they put me in a cell, I’d never be able to prove a thing. My story would sound like the purest fabrication. I didn’t want to deal with this man. I wanted Saxon, the tall man with the lean white face. He had appeared to be intelligent.
I needed a way to bluff the stupid, fast-moving colonel. I placed my right hand near the front of my white coat. I remembered that one of the large buttons was getting loose. With a minimum of motion, I found it and twisted it off. I started to move back toward the door to the hall. It was darker near the door. He followed along, staying a good six feet from me. I shifted the button in my hand until I was holding it the same way a small boy holds a marble that he is going to shoot. I flicked the button toward Kaymark’s body. At the same moment I glanced in that direction, my eyes widened. The colonel heard the small clatter on the bare floor. He took one hasty glance over his shoulder. Before he could glance back, my shoulder hit him low in the stomach. He went over backwards with a great gasp, the gun sliding across the rug. I rolled to my feet and snatched the stick out of his other hand. His face was a pale green color underneath the heavy tan. It was startling. Any fight or objection was completely gone. He was too concerned about his stomach.
I sat on the edge of the bed while he stared at the ceiling and gasped. Finally he sat up, moaning. “Sit over in that chair, Colonel Rith-Lee.” He wavered as he got to his feet. He stumbled over and fell into the chair.
“Unfair tactics. Took advantage of me. Ever heard of fair play?”
“Sure. Fair play while you railroad me off into some jail. You just sit tight while I make a little phone call.”
It took three or four minutes to get my party. When I did I said, “Saxon? This is Howard Garry. Met you over at the January Club today. Can you come over to my room right away? Good. I’m at the Galle Face. Three ten. There’s another body here.”
I hung up. His sane tired voice had sounded good. While Saxon was on his way over, I gave the colonel his instructions. Not a word. Not a murmur, or I’d stick my shoulder in his stomach a little harder than last time. That seemed to impress him. He folded his hands across his middle and I’d swear that he took a short nap, awakening finally when there was a sharp knock on the door.
I covered the colonel as I backed to the door. I opened it. Saxon stood there with two of the chocolate policemen behind him. I stood aside and he walked in. I pointed to the body and he walked over toward it. As he passed me, he spun quickly. I felt a sharp pain in my wrist and fingers, and the automatic was gone. He didn’t look at me as he handed it to one of the two policemen.
The colonel jumped up and said, “Arrest this man. Immediately. He killed Kaymark. He attacked me. Quickly!”
Saxon paused on his way toward the body. He looked at the colonel. “I’m most sorry, sir, but Mr. Garry telephoned me to come over. I’ll listen to his story first. I beg of you to sit down and remain quiet until I ask you for information.”
He took a long look at the hanging corpse. He pulled out the same notebook and scribbled a few notes with great care. He posted one of his men against the room door. At last he turned to me and said, “Your story, Mr. Garry? Please run through it quickly. I can question you about the details later.”
I told him the story. I made it short and to the point. I admitted that I had tied Kaymark up and worked him over, and I denied having killed him. I stressed the story Kaymark had told. Then I mentioned the colonel’s reaction.
The colonel started to sputter, but Saxon held up his hand imperiously and the sputtering ceased.