Дональд Уэстлейк - Forever and a Death

The elevator took them up to the lobby, a high echoing place of glass and chrome, with a marble floor that made footsteps ring out as though everybody were suddenly more important. Captain Sahling spoke in irritable Chinese into his walkie-talkie, then the six of them stood around waiting, to one side, away from the traffic to and from the elevators. George and Tony Fairchild took turns trying to placate the captain, assuring him that Luther had been under a strain lately, that they all appreciated that this was taking up more of the captain’s time than he’d bargained for, and they were certain Luther would be completely chagrined when he came up. The captain reacted to all this with stiff impatience, and Kim noticed that Inspector Ha and Mr. Hang didn’t bother trying to soothe the captain’s ruffled feelings at all.

Two slim young security men in tan uniforms hurried into view, saluted their captain, and took an elevator down. Captain Sahling assured them all once more that he was a busy man. Mr. Hang said he was sorry Luther hadn’t managed to call out to them or knock on the door to attract their attention, because he would be in darkness down there. “Poor Luther,” Kim said.

Captain Sahling’s walkie-talkie made its sputter. The reactions of Inspector Ha and Mr. Hang to the transmission in rapid Chinese suggested some sort of bad news.

Captain Sahling, more irritable than ever, snapped something angry into his walkie-talkie, and it rasped a response. One more exchange, and he glared at them with fury compounded by doubt. “They say,” he reported, “he isn’t there.”

George said, “That’s impossible.”

“Nevertheless.”

Mr. Hang said, “We must go back down.”

“I will go,” Captain Sahling said.

George said, “We’ll all go, Captain.”

The captain was going to argue, but then decided not to, and they all rode the elevator back down to the lowest basement and the small bare concrete room where the two young security men stood, looking awkward and embarrassed, afraid they were about to be blamed for something.

In addition to the door to the stairwell, there was one metal door from this room to the rest of the sub-basement, but it was locked and had not been disturbed. Captain Sahling spoke with the security men and then, more calmly, Inspector Ha spoke with them, and then everybody trooped down the stairs again and into the tunnel.

There was no one there. Luther was gone. They spent ten minutes searching the place, and there was no sign of Luther, no sign of any other way in or out. At last they gathered again at the door to the stairwell, not knowing what to do next. Their flashlights bobbed uncertainly, pointing this way and that. Captain Sahling, who clearly resented situations he couldn’t control, said, “I don’t know what your friend has done.”

George said, “Our friend? Captain, it’s your tunnel.”

Sahling stared at him, then looked away, down the length of the tunnel. “Is it?” he asked.

Mr. Curtis was furious, and Bennett understood why, but what else could he have done? If he’d killed the German and left the body there, that would have been worse, wouldn’t it? There was no time or way to invent an accident. So those people had a disappearance on their hands, that’s all, no way to be absolutely certain what had happened. Maybe the German had even walked off on his own. After all, the others had forgotten all about him, they’d walked off themselves and left him there.

“All right, all right,” Curtis said, at last calming down a little. “You did what you had to do.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The three of them stood in Curtis’s quarters on the site, a small construction trailer kept strictly for his use, the rare times he was here. Half of it was an office, simple but complete, with Internet access and fax machine, where they now talked. The other half was a bedroom and bath, which Curtis had never used.

Bennett had brought the German directly here, because what else was there to do with him? Curtis had been seated at his desk, computer screen open before him, and when he’d seen the German he’d jumped to his feet, yelled at Bennett to shut the door, and had demanded to know where the German had come from and what was going on. Now, the first shock of it done, he was a bit calmer. “All right,” he said. “The damn fellow can do some work for us.”

“Oh, good, sir, like the other one.”

The German was recovered now from his tussle with Bennett, but merely looked at them both with a vague expression on his face, as though they were speaking a language he didn’t understand. Gesturing at him, Bennett said, “Should I give him to Li too?”

“No, I don’t want them together,” Curtis said. “Take him to the other side, there’s a dig supervisor named Chin.”

“Good, sir.”

“And come back.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bennett took the German by the arm and led him outside. Halfway across to the building, the German made a sudden dash toward the main gate, and Bennett had to grab him and hit him several times to calm him down. But then he went along quietly.

They were digging cross-tunnels in two directions from here, trying to reach as many water tunnels as possible, so Bennett delivered the German to the work crew on the second side, then returned to Curtis, now at the large table, with construction plans laid out. Looking up at Bennett, he said, “Any trouble?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Come over here.”

Bennett went over to stand beside Curtis and study the plans. God, it was good to be back in construction again! To be standing in a site office, shoulder to shoulder with the boss, looking over the plans. This, Bennett thought, is where I’ve been supposed to be, lo, these many years. “Yes, sir,” he said.

Looking at the plans, Curtis said, “We don’t have as much time as I’d hoped, Colin.”

“No, sir.”

“Them being here in Hong Kong, and in one of the tunnels, suggests they know far too much.”

“It’s that Mark Hennessy, sir,” Bennett said, meaning, there’s a bad employee, and here, sir, right here at your side, is a good employee.

Curtis said, “I suppose part of it is Mark, but not all of it, he didn’t know that much. I think it’s mostly George Manville, figuring things out. Why I didn’t get rid of him when I had my hands on him I’ll never know.”

“You thought he could still help you, sir.”

“Well, I was wrong about that,” Curtis said. “But it isn’t going to stop us, Colin.”

Us . “No, sir!”

Bending over the plans, Curtis said, “We’ve linked seven of the tunnels. I’d hoped for ten, and more profit, too.” He tapped the plans. “There’s some gold out there we won’t be getting, Colin.”

“We’ll be getting a lot, sir.”

“Oh, yes, I know we will. But we’re going to have to do the job right now.”

Surprised, Colin said, “Now, sir?”

“Tonight.” Curtis looked away, at the flat rectangle of window framing the sunlit construction site. Within, the air-conditioning faintly hummed, “In a way,” Curtis said, and Bennett knew he was talking mostly to himself, “it’s better to have them here. Deals with everything at once.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re going to be my eyes and ears, Colin,” Curtis said, and there was a knock at the door. Curtis said, “That’ll be Jackie, I just called him to come over. Let him in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bennett didn’t much like Jackie Tian, his manner of being on the inside track here in Hong Kong, but he’d never let either Tian or Curtis know it. He crossed to open the door, and smiled a big smile at Tian, saying, “How are you?”