“What will they do with the old man?”

“You needn’t worry about him. They will do nothing. The newspaper carrying the offer for the reward doesn’t circulate in Thudaumot. How was he to know you were wanted by the police?”

Jaffe relaxed slightly. It was the kind of news he wanted to hear so he readily accepted it.

“And Nhan? Where is she?”

“She is safe,” Charlie said. “She is with Blackie. When it is dark Blackie will bring her here.” He began to move away. “We should begin to build the bonfires.”

The two men parted and began to collect sticks and dried grass.

While he worked, Charlie wondered if he could persuade the American to leave without Nhan. It was a risk. He might refuse. Charlie realized that it would be safer to kill him before the helicopter arrived. He couldn’t kill him if Watkins was there. Watkins would blackmail him for the rest of his life.

He looked across the rice-field to where Jaffe was working. The American’s massive figure was outlined against the darkening sky.

Charlie decided he must wait until it was darker, then he would get the gun, conceal it by his side and when he was close to Jaffe, he would shoot him at point-blank range. He would tell Watkins his passenger had changed his mind and wasn’t coming. He would go with Watkins to Kratie. By this time tomorrow he would be safe in Hong Kong with two million dollars worth of diamonds.

He was glad to have the bonfire to build. It took his mind off Jaffe. It was just after eight when the two men completed their tasks. By then it was so dark, Charlie had difficulty in finding the car.

He could see Jaffe coming across the field by the red spar of his cigarette. He opened the car door and felt around on the floor for his briefcase, but he couldn’t find it. In a sudden sweating panic, he got into the car, turned on the dashlight and looked frantically on the floor, but his briefcase wasn’t there. He could have sworn he had put it on the floor just before he had got out of the car. Maybe it had fallen out of the car as he had got out. It must have fallen out As he got out of the car, Jaffe loomed out of the darkness.

What were you showing a light for?” Jaffe demanded. “It could have been seen from the road.”

Charlie felt a trickle of cold sweat run down his face. “Yes,” he said, trying to steady his voice. “I should have thought of that.”

He was cautiously moving his foot over the ground, trying to locate the briefcase, but he felt nothing. He moved back a few steps and again started searching the ground with his foot.

“What time will Nhan arrive?” Jaffe asked, coming round the car to join Charlie.

Suppose the American stumbled on the briefcase? Charlie thought, his heart beating so hard he felt stifled. If he picked it up, he would feel the gun through the thin leather of the case. He moved forward, meeting Jaffe before Jaffe reached the door of the car.

“She won’t be late,” Charlie said. “She’ll be here just before eleven.”

Jaffe peered at his wrist-watch.

“Nearly three hours to wait. I guess I’ll sit in the car.”

“The other side,” Charlie said, backing away to cover the driver’s door. “You’ll be more comfortable.”

“I wish I had a drink,” Jaffe said as he started around the car towards the passenger’s seat. “This is going to be a hell of a long wait.”

Charlie bent down and hurriedly searched the grass with his hands. It was so dark he could see nothing. Sweat ran into his eyes. He groped as far under the car as he could reach, but his questing hands failed to find the briefcase. Then suddenly he heard Jaffe say, “Hello… what’s this?”

With a feeling of sick dismay, Charlie realized somehow he must have kicked the briefcase across the car and it had fallen out on the passenger’s side.

Jaffe had found it!

He ran round the car.

“It’s my briefcase,” he said, his voice quivering with panic. “Let me have it please.”

“Wait a minute.” The hard note in Jaffe’s voice brought Charlie to a standstill. “You’ve got a gun in here. What do you want a gun for?”

“It belongs to the pilot,” Charlie said desperately. “He lent it to Blackie. I - I promised to return it. May I have it please?”

Jaffe was stiff with suspicion. He opened the briefcase and took out the gun. His fingers felt along the long barrel of the silencer.

“May I have it please?” Charlie repeated but without hope.

“No. I’ll give it to the pilot,” Jaffe said. “I don’t like guns lying around. Get in the car!”

Moving like an old man, Charlie opened the car door and got in. Jaffe went to the rear of the car and got in the back.

“You sit still,” Jaffe said. “I’m watching you.”

Charlie could have wept with despair. For the past fifteen years everything he had touched had gone wrong. Either he had handled his deals badly or else he never had any luck. This was crushing bad “Irk. If he hadn’t dropped the briefcase…

“This is a pretty convenient gun for a murder,” Jaffe said. “You weren’t thinking of murdering me, were you?”

“Such an idea never crossed my mind,” Charlie said, trying to speak with dignity. “Why should I murder you?”

“Just sit still and keep quiet,” Jaffe said. “If you make any sudden move, I’ll shoot you through the back of your head.”

Charlie slumped down in his seat, crushed. He had lost his brother, and through the worst of bad luck he had lost the gun. He was defenceless against the strength of the American. Now he would never lay his hands on the diamonds.

Watching him, Jaffe fingered the gun. He was trying to control a sick fear that was growing in his mind. Was Nhan really safe? he kept asking himself. Was this story that the gun belonged to the pilot a lie? If it was a lie, and this little Chinese had planned to kill him, something almost certainly had happened to Nhan.

But there was nothing he could do but wait to see if she arrived. Suppose she didn’t arrive? What was he going to do? What could he do? If he went to Saigon to look for her, he would walk into a hornet’s nest, and yet he couldn’t bear the idea of going without her.

The hours dragged by. Jaffe’s nerves became stretched to breaking point as he kept looking at his watch. Charlie had remained silent during the wait. He was past caring now about anything. All he wanted was to get back to his tiny sordid apartment in Hong Kong and forget the whole miserable adventure.

At twenty minutes to eleven, Jaffe could keep silent no longer.

“Damn you!” he suddenly burst out. “Where is she? Why doesn’t she come?”

The violence of his voice scared Charlie.

“What is the time?” he asked timidly.

“It’s twenty to eleven.”

Jaffe suddenly leaned forward and pressed the barrel of the gun against the back of Charlie’s neck.

“Listen to me,” he said viciously, “I think you’re lying! I think you planned to murder me to get the diamonds! What’s happened to Nhan? I’ll blow your damn head off if you don’t tell me!”

He sounds mad enough to do it, Charlie thought, stiff with terror. When he realizes she isn’t coming, he’ll kill me.

'She's not coming,' he said, in a trembling voice. 'I was afraid to tell you before…'

Jaffe hit him across the side of his face with the gun barrel. As Charlie cringed away, trying to protect his face with his; hands, Jaffe sprang out of the car. He threw the gun away into the darkness, then dragged Charlie out, holding him by his coat lapels, shaking him.

'What's happened to her, you yellow sonofabitch?' he shouted. 'Tell me or I'll kill you!'

'They arrested her yesterday evening,' Charlie gasped, trying to get his breath back. 'She was taken to police headquarters.'

Jaffe let the little man go. Charlie staggered back, then sat down abruptly on the hard ground. He remained there, blinking up at the vast shape standing over him.

'Police Headquarters?' Jaffe repeated. He felt a chill run up his spine and into his hair. He had heard stories

Вы читаете A Lotus for Miss Quon
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