Dr. Nyet

you were in London. And they followed you to New York.'

'But why would the Russians tell S.M.U.T. about me?'

'They didn't. But the Russian agent tailing you was in turn under surveillance by S.M.U.T. They just put two and two together, that's all.'

'But why were they keeping tabs on the Russian?'

'Because he too is looking for Dr. Nyet.'

'But if that's true,' I said, puzzled, 'then why did Crampdick take me to the brothel, Wasn't that leading me right to Dr. Nyet if she was there?'

'Because Crampdick is only a dupe. He knows nothing about you. Indeed, he knows nothing about the real objectives of S.M.U.T. He is perfectly sincere in fighting vice, and so he is useful to them. But both he and O'Steele were only foils in S.M.U.T.'s real game. Crampdick's leading you to the brothel was strictly his own idea. Once he'd done it, though, it provided the opportunity to have you eliminated.'

'You mean the two hoods? Are they working for S.M.U.T. too? I thought they were on the other side.'

'I'm only guessing,' Singh admitted, 'but I wouldn't be surprised if that vice ring is only another branch of S.M.U.T. Most of the gangsters involved in it probably don't even know that themselves. Probably the killers were perfectly sincere in believing you had to be murdered because of S.M.U.T.'s interference with their operation. And yet S.M.U.T. itself may have pulled the strings.'

'But then why kill the others? Crampdick, O'Steele, yourself, even the girls?'

'We were all expendable if the menace you constitute could have been removed.'

'What about Dr. Nyet? You say she was one of the girls. She wasn't expendable.'

'No. That's true. But then you don't know for sure that they would have killed any of the girls. Maybe their orders were to simply abduct them and not to harm them. That would be my guess, anyway,' Singh said.

'Which one of the three girls was Dr. Nyet?'

'I was unable to find out,' Singh admitted.

'And did you find out who's really the top man in S.M.U.T. in New York?'

'No. All I'm sure of is that it's nobody obvious. It's none of the people who run the operation. They're all dupes dedicated to anti-vice. But their orders come from someone higher. He's probably the only one who's in on S.M.U.T.'s real purpose.'

I couldn't think of anything else to say to Singh. My head was spinning with everything he'd told me. I told him good night, and just before I left we arranged to meet at the S.M.U.T. offices the next afternoon. It seemed the only place to renew both our quests.

I slept right through until an hour before the time we'd set to meet. Then I had a quick shower, got dressed, gulped down some coffee, and grabbed a cab to the midtown S.M.U.T. offices. Singh was already there, and Crampdick saw us together immediately.

'Do you know that Jock O'Steele was murdered last night?' Crampdick said agitatedly as soon as we entered his office.

We told him we knew about it.

'Every one of us who was in that dreadful place is in danger of our lives!' Crampdick continued. 'That vice ring will stop at nothing to revenge itself on us. New York isn't safe. For that reason S.M.U.T. has made arrangements for all of us to leave the city.'

Singh and I raised our eyebrows at each other. 'Where are we to go?' Singh asked.

'Different places. I am going to Toronto myself. You are to return to New Delhi. The three young ladies will be dispersed elsewhere. Mr. Victor is to accompany you.'

'Suppose I don't want to go to New Delhi?' I asked mildly.

'But you must. It's for your own safety. And it's an order. If you wish to remain in S.M.U.T., you must learn not to question orders, Mr. Victor.'

'New Delhi it is, then,' I agreed because at the moment I didn't have any other idea of how to pursue my search for Dr. Nyet and there seemed no point to severing the tenuous connection I'd made with S.M.U.T.

They worked fast. All the arrangements were made for us, and that very evening Singh and I were at Kennedy Airport, all set to leave for New Delhi. But while we were waiting I saw something that made me abruptly decide to change my plans.

I spotted one of the S.M.U.T. girls I'd helped escape the brothel. It was the Slavic-looking brunette who'd gone through the window with Crampdick the night before. She was standing in a line-up of people waiting at one of the gates for their plane to begin loading.

I checked the flight schedules. The plane she was waiting for was bound for Johannesburg, South Africa. I had to work fast.

I told Singh I wouldn't be going to New Delhi with him after all and waved away his questions. Fortunately, thanks to Putnam's foresight, my passport was validated for any destination I chose. Now I chose Johannesburg, bought a ticket for the same plane as the brunette, and made haste to board it.

Once in my seat, for a moment I thought I might have goofed. She wasn't aboard. I peered out the window and finally I spotted her. She was talking to a man at the gate. Her figure blocked the man's face. Then, as she turned away, I saw him. It was Peter Highman!

A moment later she boarded the plane. Shortly after that, another man came racing up just as they were removing the stairway. They held it for him, and he boarded the aircraft, much out of breath. He seemed to be looking for someone as he came down the aisle. He made such a point of not staring that I guessed that I was the man he was seeking. But when he chose the seat behind the girl, it inspired me to twist my conclusion for my own ends.

The opportunity came about an hour after we were in the air. He got up and went to the men's room. I quickly moved to take the seat beside the girl.

'Do you recognize me?' I asked in a low tone.

'Why, yes,' she said, sounding surprised. 'I think I do. Aren't you the one who helped me last night? Mr. Crampdick's friend?'

'That's right. I'm Steve Victor. What's your name?'

'Ilona Tabori.'

'Well, listen, Ilona. Listen carefully. We don't have much time to talk. That man in the seat behind you is following you. Don't ask me how I know. Just take my word for it.'

'Why are you telling me this?'

'We're on the same side, aren't we? We both work for S.M.U.T. And we're in the same fix. We're both on the lam from New York because of what happened last night. Only I think that guy following you may be one of the bunch we're on the lam from.'

'Is S.M.U.T. sending you to Salisbury, too?' she asked innocently.

Salisbury! So that was it. She wasn't going to Johannesburg to hide out there. She was going to change planes for Salisbury, the capital city of Rhodesia! 'Yes,' I lied. 'They're sending me to Salisbury, too.' Just then I spotted the door to the men's room opening. 'He's coming back,' I told Ilona. 'I don't want him to see me with you. We'll have to talk later.' I scurried back to my seat.

Once there, a swarm of questions buzzed through my mind. Who was the man following me? Which side did he represent? Why had S.M.U.T. sent Ilona to Rhodesia? How come she was talking to Peter Highman at the airport? What was Peter Highman's part in all this? Why had he murdered his wife and tried to murder me? Was it more than mere jealousy? And then there was the most important question of all:

Was Ilona Tabori really Dr. Nyet?

CHAPTER FIVE

At Johannesburg I arranged to continue on to Salisbury. Ilona Tabori was already booked through. It was no surprise to either of us to see the man who'd been following me board the plane at the last minute.

Fortunately, his kidneys were as weak as ever, and so I had a chance to exchange a few words with Ilona while he was in the john. It seemed wise not to let him see us together. If he hadn't connected us up together already,