James Chase - You Have Yourself a Deal

Girland looked quickly at Erica. He saw she was getting over her fright and was now studying Malik with a calculating expression in her eyes.

“Don’t believe a word of it,” he said. “You would be crazy to go to Moscow.”

Malik backhanded Girland across his face, sending him staggering against the wall of the cabin.

“I told you to shut up!” he snarled, then to Erica. “He has nothing to offer you, Miss Olsen. He can’t help you. He’s bluffing. If he is stupid enough to take you on a passenger flight, you will be dead before you even get on the plane.”

Erica moved away so she was between Girland and Malik. She studied Malik, then looked at Girland. It was as if she were trying to choose between the two men.

“How do I know you have a chartered plane?” she asked finally.

Malik took a leather folder from his hip pocket and tossed it on the table.

“We fly to Tokyo, avoiding China. From Tokyo we go on to Moscow. If you want proof, here are the plane’s papers and the log book.”

Erica glanced through the papers, then she nodded.

“All right, I will come with you.” She regarded Malik, her eyes shrewd. “I expect to be paid for my information and I expect the price to be high.”

“You certainly said it, baby,” Girland said. “And it won’t be the price you will expect.”

She ignored him, still looking at Malik.

“We always pay well for information,” Malik said smoothly. “Now please go up on deck. We are leaving immediately. There is a boat waiting with one of my men. Get into the boat.”

“Just a moment,” Girland said. “What have you done with Hung Yan? Cracked his skull for him?”

“Where is he?” Erica said. “He has helped me. I am not leaving without him.”

“He’s waiting in the boat,” Malik said, his face expressionless. He jerked his thumb to the stairs. “We are wasting valuable time. Please go.”

“I have a suitcase.”

“I will bring it. Please go!”

Girland said, “He wants you to go because he doesn’t want a witness when he murders me.”

Erica paused, her eyes searching Malik’s face.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I have no reason to kill him. I will leave him here. Will you please go?”

She hesitated no longer and ran up the stairs onto the deck.

Malik backed to the foot of the stairs, then paused, his green eyes glittering.

“I have had enough of your interference, Girland,” he said. “I warned you if we ever should meet again I would get rid of you for good. This is an excellent place to leave you.” He lifted the automatic. “By the time they find you, we will be in Moscow.”

Girland eyed the gun. He felt his mouth suddenly turn dry.

“Don’t do anything you might regret later,” he said, annoyed his voice sounded husky. “You have the girl. You...”

The sudden sound of an approaching motorboat coming at high speed made Girland stop. The two men stared at each other in the dim light, both listening. Then there came a crash of gunfire. Malik half-turned, looking up the stairway of the cabin. Girland sprang forward and with a chopping blow on Malik’s wrist, sent the gun flying.

Cursing, Malik turned and as he was about to launch himself at Girland there came more gunfire. This was immediately followed by the violent noise of machine gun fire and the junk rocked under a hail of bullets.

Malik bent to grab his gun, but Girland kicked it into a far corner. Both men stood glaring at each other as more machine gun fire shook the junk. They heard a thin, wailing scream. Then the motorboat engine roared and began to diminish.

Malik sprang up the stairs and reached the deck. His long knife in his hand, Girland followed him. Both men paused, then Malik raised his clenched fists about his head and cursed.

Erica Olsen was lying flat on her back on the deck, her chest torn open by machine gun bullets. Already disappearing into the night was a low, fast-moving motorboat heading back to Hong Kong.

Malik spun around and started towards Girland, then seeing the knife in Girland’s hand, he paused.

“Come on, Comrade,” Girland said quietly. “It will give me a lot of pleasure to slit your throat.”

Malik cursed him, then he turned and bent over Erica’s body.

“She’s dead,” he said, straightening. He bent over the side of the junk and looked down at his boat. The crumpled figure of Branska, half-in and half-out of the water told him the machine gun had also caught him.

“We’ll have to do something about the Chinese, Malik,” Girland said. “While we are fighting each other, they’re winning all the tricks.” He looked down at Erica’s body and grimaced. “I wonder if she did know anything worthwhile about Kung. Maybe she was bluffing. I know the family... they are great bluffers.”

Malik glared at him, his eyes glittering with fury.

“From now on, keep out of my way. If we ever meet again...”

“Oh, go frighten the Chinese,” Girland said impatiently. “Your dialogue’s pure ham.”

Malik climbed over the side of the junk and lowered himself into the motorboat. He caught hold of Branska and tipped him into the sea, then he started the motorboat engine and not looking back, he headed the boat towards the lights of Hong Kong.

Girland watched him go, then he went to the other side of the junk and made sure his boat was still there. He looked around for Hung Yan, but could see no sign of him. He peered into the moonlit water and saw something move. The long black body of a shark slid by and Girland grimaced. Malik, he thought, had probably knocked the Chinese boy over the head and dumped him in the sea.

Girland stood hesitating, then he went down into the stifling cabin. After a quick search, he found Erica’s suitcase. He dumped the clothes and the various articles on the cabin floor and went through them carefully. He found nothing of interest. Still hoping he might just be lucky and find the Black Grape, he slit the lining of the suitcase and eventually took the case to pieces, but he didn’t find the pearl.

He wondered if Erica had hidden it in the cabin, but decided she wouldn’t have left without it. The only other possible hiding place would be in the clothes she was wearing.

He went up on deck and stood looking down at her body. She was lying in a wide pool of blood. In, the moonlight, her chest looked like a big, black hole.

He grimaced. He couldn’t bring himself to touch her.

No, the hell with it! he thought. She had been telling the truth. He wasn’t going to look further. The whole operation had been a flop from start to finish.

He climbed over the side of the junk into his motorboat, started the engine and headed back to Aberdeen harbour. It was a long and depressing trip and his only companions were the sharks.

An hour later, he shut himself in a telephone booth and put a call through to the Aberdeen Police Station.

A voice with a Scottish accent answered.

“I’m reporting a murder,” Girland said. “Junk anchored off Pak Kok. You can’t miss it. It isn’t carrying a sail. The woman...”

“Just a moment,” the policeman barked. “Who’s this talking?”

“The woman’s name is Erica Olsen,” Girland went on. “The Central Intelligence Agency must be informed. They know about her. She was murdered by Chinese agents acting on orders from Pekin.”

“Is that so?” the policeman sneered. “If you think I haven’t better things to do than to listen to a crackpot...”

“Shut your fat mouth and listen!” Girland snapped. “Get someone out to that junk if you value your small job,” and he hung up.

Leaving the booth, he called a taxi and told the driver to take him to the Lotus Hotel, Wanchai.

Two chattering, giggling Chinese girls were coming out of the hotel as Girland paid off the taxi. They looked invitingly at him, but he didn’t notice them. He went up to his room, took a shower and then stretched out on the bed. He thought for some time. The frown on his face showed that his thoughts weren’t happy ones. He was blaming himself for Erica’s death. Although he had taken precautions, they hadn’t been good enough. He had led the Chinese and Malik to the junk. While Malik had been acting out his little scene, the Chinese must have drifted up to the junk, caught Malik’s man off guard, spotted Erica on the deck and had let fly at her with a machine gun. At least, they had done their job whereas both Malik and he had failed.