By this time he had become aware that he was being followed. Girland had a strongly developed sense of self-preservation. He had quickly spotted Malik’s agents during the crossing, but he had foiled to spot the fat Chinese who was sitting near him, reading the Hong Kong Times.
As Girland paid off his taxi, he saw a car drive past. The two thickset men were in the car and they looked studiously away from him as the car went on up the waterfront. Girland grinned. Well, he would have to be careful, he told himself. He paid no attention to a fat Chinese in a shabby black suit who was standing near him, buying a pack of cigarettes from a street vendor.
Girland climbed the steep steps to the hotel lobby. He was greeted with a wide smile of welcome by an elderly Chinese with a wispy beard. Wan See had been the owner of the hotel for many years and he had an excellent memory for faces.
After greeting him, Girland went up more stairs to a small clean room that overlooked the waterfront. He took a shower, changed into a sports shirt and jeans, and then went down to Wan See.
The owner of the hotel was in the pay of the American Embassy and he could be relied on. Girland warned him that he was on official business and he must be careful no one got into his room while he was out.
Wan See had housed a number of American Agents over the years and he knew his business.
“That is okay,” he said. “No one comes here unless I know him.”
“I have a telephone call to make.”
Wan See waved to a booth.
Carlota had given Girland a telephone number to call when he arrived. This number, she had explained, was to a villa on the Peak where Erica was in hiding. He dialled the number and waited.
There was a brief delay, then a man’s voice said, “Who is that, please?”
“A friend who comes from Paris,” Girland said, using the phrase Carlota had given him.
He heard a quick hiss of breath.
“I hope you had a good journey.” This was the counter password Carlota had given him and Girland relaxed.
“Well, I’m here. I am at the Lotus Hotel, Wanchai. Do I come to you or will you come to me?”
“It would be better if you come to me,” the man said. “The situation is difficult. It is safer not to talk now. I will send a woman to bring you to me. She will be wearing a red cheongsam and a diamond in her left ear.”
“She sounds charming,” Girland said as the line went dead.
He again consulted Wan See.
“There is a girl coming. The hotel is being watched. She and I will be leaving and it is important we won’t be followed.”
Wan See giggled.
“There is no trouble. Every half-hour girls come here. The lower rooms are rented for love. There is a staircase to the roof. You can leave that way. You cross two roofs, descend by a fire escape to an alley that leads to the waterfront.”
Girland returned to his room and waited. He thought longingly of an air conditioner as the heat flowed through the open window, turning the small room into an oven.
An hour and five minutes later, there came a tap on the door.
Girland got off the bed and opened the door. A slim Chinese girl, wearing a scarlet cheongsam, a diamond sparkling in her left ear lobe, smiled at him.
“You expect me?”
Girland liked Chinese girls. During his previous stays in Hong Kong he had slept with a number of them. They had technique and they took lovemaking seriously. This girl was not only pretty: she was sensationally sensuous.
“Who are you?” he asked, moving back so she could come in.
“My name is Tan-Toy. I work along the waterfront. I make professional love.”
“You do?” Girland laughed. “That is something we might discuss later. Right now, let’s go.”
They climbed the staircase to the roof and moving cautiously, they crossed two other roofs and descended by the iron fire escape into the alley below.
They were watched by one of Malik’s agents who knew all about Wan See’s escape route. He had been posted on a nearby roof for the past two hours. Using a walkie-talkie, he alerted Malik that Girland with a Chinese woman was leaving his hotel.
The fat Chinese had seen Tan-Toy arrive at the hotel. He knew about the villa on the Peak and had been watching it now for three or four days. He also alerted his men by short wave radio that Girland might be heading towards the villa.
There was a considerable amount of traffic going up to the Peak and as Tan-Toy drove Girland in an Austin Cooper up the winding road, he kept looking back to see if they were being followed.
She said, “It is all right. The lady is not there any longer. It is Hung Yan you are going to see.”
“Is he the guy I spoke to on the telephone?”
“Yes.”
“If she’s not there, where is she?”
“I don’t know.” Tan-Toy gave him a flashing smile.
“Who are you? How do you get muddled up in this?”
“Hung Yan is my friend. He helped me once when I was ill. I like to help people when they help me.”
Eventually the car pulled up outside a small, dark villa, perched on the edge of the mountain with a fine view of Hong Kong and distant Kowloon.
“Go right in,” the girl said as Girland got out of the car. “When you have finished your business, we might meet.”
“Where do I find you?” Girland asked, bending down to look at her through the car window.
“Wan See knows... ask him.” She waved her hand, looked again into his eyes, then reversing the car, she drove away.
Girland looked down the long dark winding road, watching the red tail lights of her car disappear. No other car moved on the road.
He walked quickly down a path that led to the villa and rang the bell. The front door immediately opened.
“Please come in.”
A shadowy figure let him into a small, stiflingly hot room lit by a small table lamp.
The two men looked at each other. Hung Yan was a slightly built, young Chinese wearing a black, baggy, Chinese coat and trousers. His glittering eyes were feverish and when he shook hands, his skin felt dry and hot.
Girland introduced himself.
“The situation is very bad,” Hung Yan said. “They know I am here. I don’t think they can make up their minds whether she is dead or alive. Otherwise they would have got rid of me before now. Have you a passport for her? That is what she wants.”
“I have it. Where is she?”
“I will take you to her. She is on a junk, anchored off Pak Kok.”
“How do you come to be here?” Girland asked curiously.
“This villa belongs to my father who is in America. I brought Erica here a week ago, but she didn’t feel safe. She is very frightened. The junk belongs to my cousin’s fishing fleet. It is old and he is not using it. Erica thought she would be safer there than here.”
“Is she alone?”
“Yes, she is alone and frightened. I am sorry for her.” Hung Yan made a helpless movement with his hands. “We are in love. She is in a very dangerous situation and it worries me very much.”
“I’m not absolutely sure I haven’t been followed,” Girland said. “When do we go?”
Hung Yan shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter. They know I am here. They hope I will lead them to her.” He went to a cupboard. Opening it, he took from it two long knives in leather scabbards. “Can you use a knife? It is better than a gun.”
“Oh, sure,” Girland said. He took the knife from Hung Yan, pulled it from its scabbard, regarded it and nodded his approval. He clipped the scabbard to his belt. “When do we go?”
“Now... there is a footpath from here down the mountain to the main road,” Hung Yan told him. “There I have a car in a friend’s garage. There is a motorboat waiting at Aberdeen harbour.”