‘You’re also on Sam-Sam’s list, too. Something about a gun deal that went sour.’
Hatcher took a sip of his drink and didn’t answer.
‘Well, you just answered
‘He was dealing with the Khmer Rouge. The whole mission was to bust up that little party..’
‘He’s sworn to cutout your tongue and have it for lunch.’
‘The old Hatcher
‘Sure,’ said China, ‘I’ll tell you something — when the old Hatcher luck runs out, they’ll feel the earthquake in New York City.’
‘It’ll work,’ Hatcher said, ‘Trust me.’
‘Humph,’ Cohen mumbled again. Hatcher was heading for deep trouble and he was going it alone, stubborn as usual. He hadn’t changed a bit. Sing ended his consternation by appearing suddenly at the doorway.
‘The car belongs to the Island Catering Service,’ Sing said.
Cohen turned to Hatcher. ‘That company belongs to the White Palms. There it is. Fong’s bunch is on to you.’
‘Then I better get out of here,’ Hatcher said.
‘Like hell,’ said Cohen. ‘You’re safe here. Fong wouldn’t dare attack my home.’
And then after a moment’s thought, he added, ‘We’ll beef up security and everything’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Excuse me a minute.’
Hatcher got up and looked over the side of the balcony. It was thirty feet to the ground, which sloped sharply downward and was covered with vines and ferns. The top of the banyan tree, which was thirty or forty yards from the foot of the balcony, was ten feet below the balcony level. There were four heavy posts supporting the balcony Heavy spotlights were mounted on the corners of the balcony. The high wall continued down both sides of Cohen’s property until foliage blocked his view.
‘The back looks fairly secure,’ Hatcher whispered. The phone interrupted any further discussion of security.
Sing answered the call and looked up with surprise. He held his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘It is for the Occhi di Sassi,’ he said. ‘A Sergeant Varney.’
Cohen’s face clouded up. ‘Son of a bitch, what now?’ He looked at Hatcher, ‘You want to take it?’ he asked.
‘Let’s find out what he’s up to,’ whispered Hatcher.
Sing handed him the phone.
‘Hatcher,’ he whispered.
‘Sergeant Varney from the Hong Kong police,’ he heard the clipped tones reply. ‘You remember me, sir?’
‘Of course.’
‘You did a nice job slipping my men this morning,’ Varney said pleasantly. ‘But I think I should warn you. Joe Lung went to your hotel room. Now he’s on the island and has several men with him.’
‘How did you find me?’ Hatcher demanded.
‘Guessed, sir,’ answered Varney. ‘I decided to take a chance that you were visiting your friend the Tsu Fi. Point is, we have a safe house near the airport. We’d like to take you out of there.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Hatcher answered.
‘We thought perhaps you would prefer to avoid a confrontation at your friend’s home. This man, Lung, is serious, Mr Hatcher.’
‘I’m sure he is,’ Hatcher replied. ‘What do you have in mind?’
‘We’ll slip in there in an hour and bring you out. I’ll have a backup unit with me. We have Lung under observation. I think everything will move smoothly.’
‘Call when you get to the gate,’ Hatcher said and hung up.
‘How about the man on the hill?’ Cohen asked Sing.
‘Still there.’
‘Does he suspect we’re on to him?’
‘I think not,’ said Sing.
‘How many men do you have?’ asked Hatcher.
‘Three in the front, one in the back, the three of us inside,’ Cohen answered.
‘If Varney’s in on it, they’ll set up the hit here, China. Lung and his men will probably come in behind Varney. They figure they’ll catch us by surprise.’
Hatcher had never seen Cohen this angry before. ‘They wouldn’t dare attack this house,’ Cohen said coldly, but his tone was less than convincing. Then he added, ‘If they do, there’s going to be hell to pay.’
