“Of course,” Charlie said. “I still think you should come with me. If they’ve found out you know about the diamonds and where Jaffe is hiding, they will wipe you out.”
“If they knew that,” Blackie said bleakly, “I wouldn’t be here talking to you now. I’ll let you know definitely by tonight what I am going to do. In the meantime, will you see the girl? She has got to be ready by ten. There must be no delay.”
Charlie got to his feet.
“I’ll go now,” he said, “then I’ll come back and have a nap. I won’t get much sleep tonight.”
Yo-Yo moved silently away from the door: his thin vicious face alight with excitement. He concealed himself behind a curtain that covered the entrance to the kitchens.
He heard Blackie and Charlie come out of the office. Blackie accompanied his brother as far as the entrance to the club.
“I don’t think they’re interested in you,” Blackie said, “but be careful you are not followed.”
When his brother had gone down the stairs, Blackie returned to his office. He looked through the shutters into the street. The two detectives still sat in the Citroen. He saw his brother walk briskly away. No one seemed to pay him any attention.
A slight sound behind him made him look sharply over his shoulder.
Yo-Yo stood in the doorway, smiling at him.
“Hello, Mr. Blackie,” he said and came into the office, closing the door behind him.
Blackie had a sudden premonition of danger. How long had this little rat been in the club? Had he heard anything?
“What do you want?”
“I’ve been listening, Mr. Blackie,” Yo-Yo said. “I want that million piastres you have in your safe. If you don’t give it to me, I’ll tell those two detectives out there you know where. Jaffe is. You know what they’ll do to you if I tell them that.” Blackie eyed Yo-Yo thoughtfully. Yo-Yo was slim and wiry, but Blackie knew that once he got his hands on the boy, he could easily master him. He would have to kill him. He had no other alternative. Already he had made up his mind that sooner or later he would have to murder the boy.
“What million piastres?” he asked, moving casually forward. “What are you talking about?”
Yo-Yo with the swiftness of a striking snake whipped a knife from his hip-pocket. Its long, glittering blade threatened Blackie.
“Don’t come any nearer,” Yo-Yo said. “Just give me the money.”
Sweat broke out on Blackie’s face. The sight of the knife filled him with sick fear. Then he remembered the gun in his safe. It was fitted with a silencer. He would open the safe, pretending to get the money, then he would grab the gun, turn and shoot.
He pretended to hesitate. He remained motionless, staring at Yo-Yo.
“Hurry!” Yo-Yo said. “Give me the money!”
Blackie lifted his shoulders in resigned surrender. He took from his pocket the safe key, crossed the room and unlocked the safe. He had to kneel to reach in the safe. His broad back covered his movements. His hand closed around the butt of the gun as Yo-Yo silently crept up behind him.
As Blackie lifted the gun and tensed his muscles to bring his body upright, an agonizing pain hit him between his shoulder blades. His hand slipped off the gun and he fell forward. The agony was repeated as Yo-Yo stabbed him again.
2
A little after five o’clock, the telephone bell rang in Lam-Than’s office. With an impatient exclamation, Lam- Than put down his pen and picked up the receiver. He listened to the excited voice on the line. What he heard made him stiffen in his chair.
He said, “You arc certain of this? There can be no mistake?” He listened while the voice beat against his ear-drum, then he said, “Very well,” and hung up.
He sat for a long moment staring down at his desk, then he got to his feet and went swiftly along the passage to Colonel On-dinh-Khuc’s office. He knocked and entered. The office was empty. He paused in the doorway, frowning and looking around. He saw the Colonel’s tunic lying on a chair and he immediately guessed where he was.
He hurried to the questioning-room. The two executioners, guarding the door, looked at him inquiringly.
“Is the Colonel in there?” Lam-Than asked.
One of them nodded.
Lam-Than turned the handle of the door and pushed the door open. He stepped into the room and immediately closed the door on the curious staring gaze of the two executioners.
With a growl like that of a wild animal, the Colonel turned quickly and glared at him. Lam-Than looked past the Colonel at the table and his mouth tightened.
“Get out!” the Colonel snarled.
“You must leave immediately, sir,” Lam-Than said, speaking distinctly and quickly. “A warrant for your arrest was signed half an hour ago. You are being charged with the murder of the woman, My-Lang-To. The driver of the jeep who killed her has confessed he did so on your instructions.”
The Colonel leaned forward and peered at Lam-Than. The muscles in his heavy face suddenly went slack.
“They can’t arrest me,” he snarled. “No one can arrest me!”
“The warrant has been signed by the President,” Lam-Than said. Did she tell you where the American is hiding?”
The Colonel leaned against the wall. He seemed crushed and defeated.
“I cannot understand it,” he said, and there was dazed wonder in his voice. “Nothing I did to her would make her speak. A woman like that… perhaps after all she really didn’t know.”
Lam-Than shrugged his shoulders.
If you can reach the Bien Hoa airport you have a chance of reaching Phnom-Penh,” he said. “They may not have thought of alerting the airport. You must go at once.”
Even as he spoke there came the sound of tramping feet down the passage and the two men looked at each other.
Lam-Than shrugged his shoulders. He moved away from the Colonel as if disassociating himself from him.
The door opened and Inspector Ngoc-Linh appeared in the doorway. Behind him were four policemen armed with rifles.
The Inspector looked from the Colonel to the body on the table. He felt the wall of his stomach tighten with horror. Then he turned and signalled to the policemen who filed into the room. He pointed to the Colonel.
“Arrest this man.”
As the police formed a group around the Colonel, the Inspector said to him, “In the name of the Republic, I arrest you for the murder of My-Lang-To. You will also be charged with the murder of this woman, Nhan Lee Quon.” He turned to Lam-Than. “You too are under arrest as an accessory to both murders.” He nodded to the policemen. Take them away.”
Colonel On-dinh-Khuc straightened himself and squared his shoulders. He marched out of the room at the head of his escort. Lam-Than limped after him.
The Inspector beckoned to one of the executioners who was standing in the doorway, staring.
“Get a blanket and cover this woman,” he said.
When the executioner had gone, the Inspector moved closer to the table. Because he was a devout Catholic and still had some pity left in him, he made the sign of the cross over Nhan’s body, then turning, he went out of the room, closing the door behind him.
