James Chase - A Lotus for Miss Quon
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- Название:A Lotus for Miss Quon
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Nhan’s grandfather and her family were certain to suffer.
What have I done to these people? Jaffe thought. I am a crazy, selfish sonofabitch. Is Nhan really safe?
Charlie tapped the horn button of the car impatiently.
I won’t even be able to say good-bye to the old man, Jaffe thought as he moved into the hot sunshine. If I had any guts I would stay right here and warn him to get out when he comes back.
Charlie had opened the rear door of the car. He was beckoning to Jaffe.
“Come quickly,” he called.
With a feeling of shame, Jaffe ran down the path and scrambled into the back of the car. He lay on the floor of the car. Charlie slammed the door, then he trod on the gas and the car shot away.
As the car roared down the dusty road towards Ben Cat, Jaffe kept thinking of Nhan. He still had five and a half hours before the helicopter was due to arrive. Much could happen in that time.
Charlie had to stop once or twice to consult his map. He told Jaffe that the landing-ground couldn’t be far, but it was nearly seven o’clock and growing dusk by the time Charlie finally located the exact place.
He saw at once that it was a good place for concealment. There was a thick fringe of bamboo in a half circle before a disused rice-field which was burned into a hard mass of dark mud by the sun, and it was very suitable for a helicopter landing.
The rice-field was concealed from the road by trees and shrubs. As the car bumped over the rough ground, black and lemon butterflies as big as bats rose out of the bamboos while egrets flew in panic across the darkening sky.
Charlie brought the car to a halt and got out. Jaffe, his legs stiff and his body aching from the cramped ride, also got out.
“We must prepare two large bonfires,” Charlie said. “The pilot will have trouble locating this place. When we hear him coming, we will set fire to the bonfires.”
“He won’t be here for four hours,” Jaffe said. “There is plenty of time. How did the police find out I was at the old man’s place?”
“You were seen at the window,” Charlie said, remembering what YoYo had told Blackie. “There is a reward offered for information about you. This peasant who saw you claimed the reward.”
Jaffe cursed himself for being so careless.
“But how did you find this out?” he persisted.
“Blackie has a good friend at Police Headquarters,” Charlie lied.
“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.”
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