Ник Картер - Death Island

He softly closed the door, lit a cigarette, then unholstered his Luger. He took his silencer from his trouser pocket, screwed it onto the end of the barrel, then pulled out several bills and laid them on the bureau. He went back out onto the balcony and sat down, his feet up on the low table.

Room service in the person of a very young Chinese boy showed up ten minutes later with his rum, juice, and ice. Carter tipped the boy, then mixed himself a large drink.

Back out on the balcony, the room lights out, he sat back, Wilhelmina on the chair beside him, and slowly sipped his drink as he watched the occasional car or passerby below on the street and in the square.

The town was very quiet at this time of night. But Carter suspected that was not normally the case. He supposed that what action there might normally be here in town tonight was centered up at the governor’s mansion.

Contrary to what Tieggs thought, Carter suspected that Governor Rondine was somehow involved in the tracking site’s problems. His motives were so patently obvious that the previous investigators had given the man the benefit of the doubt. Carter was not so inclined.

It was nearing nine o’clock when Carter heard a slight noise at the door. He picked up the Luger and slipped off the safety, then held the gun high against his chest. His back was to the door, but whoever was coming in from the corridor would present a clear target in silhouette.

He waited a full three seconds, then spun off the chair to the left, bringing his Luger up into a firing position. But if the door was open, then whoever had come in had first switched off the corridor lights, because there was nothing on the other side of the room but a vague darkness.

A flash of light and the whine of a bullet ricocheting off the balcony railing just above Carter came a moment later. Carter fired three shots in quick succession, one where the light flash had been and one on either side of it, then flattened himself on the balcony and waited.

A soft scraping noise came to him from the left, near the bed, but he resisted the urge to fire.

A truck rumbled by on the street below, turned the corner, beeped its horn, and then was gone.

A signal? Carter rolled to the right, back toward where he had been sitting, a split instant before a powerful flashlight was switched on and two shots were fired at the spot he had just been in.

Carter fired once above and to the right of the flashlight beam, then high and to the left. The second shot hit home. The flashlight flipped violently across the room, clattering against the wall, then something heavy thudded to the floor.

For a long time Carter remained where he was. He did not think it had been a trick, but he was not going to bet his life on it for a while yet.

Someone was out in the corridor, whistling, and then at the door.

“Hey, Carter, what happened to the lights?” Tieggs called out, pushing in the open door.

“Look out, Bob!” Carter shouted, but the door was all the way open before Tieggs understood that he might be in some danger. Tieggs thought fast, however, and quickly ducked back into the hallway.

An inert form was crumpled on the floor at the end of the bed. It had not stirred. A small pool of blood had formed on the floor. Whoever it was dead.

Carter got to his feet, keeping the Luger out ahead of him, and crossed to the body, which he carefully turned over. It was a Chinese man.

“It’s all right now, Bob,” Carter called. He switched on the room lights as Tieggs, carrying their clothes, came in, wide-eyed and panting.

“What the hell happened?”

“Someone doesn’t like us, apparently,” Carter said.

Tieggs came the rest of the way in and looked down at the body.

“Holy shit,” he said.

“You know him?”

“You bet I do, Mr. Carter,” Tieggs said, looking up. “It’s Yun Lo.”

“Duvall’s batman? The one who tried to kill him?”

“One and the same.”

Carter found an empty room on the second floor and took one of its blankets. Back up in their own room he and Tieggs wrapped Yun Lo’s body in the blanket, carried him back downstairs, and put him in the bed.

The man’s body would not be found until tomorrow, and then there would be nothing official to connect his death with Carter.

Once again in their own room, they cleaned up the blood, and Carter collected his shell casings and reloaded his Luger. It had been a busy evening so far. He suspected it was going to get much busier before it was over.

He and Tieggs both took a shower and shaved, then dressed in their evening clothes.

“What’s likely to happen is we’ll be kicked out, if we’re even allowed into the house in the first place,” Tieggs said, combing his hair.

“I don’t think so, Bob,” Carter said. “Just stick with me at first until we’re introduced.”

“And then?”

Carter had finished with his bow tie. He turned around. “You don’t have to come with me, you know. Just drop me off up there.”

“I’ll come,” Tieggs said, suddenly grinning. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I just don’t know why you want to go up there. I mean, what does it have to do with your investigation?”

“Are you ready?” Carter asked, ignoring the question.

“Yeah... sure,” Tieggs said.

Together they went downstairs, got into the jeep, and headed up the hill. A couple of Oriental men stood across the street at the edge of the square watching them. Other than that pair, the street was deserted.

At the end of the business district the road turned left up the steep hill, switching back and forth, following the terraced slope on which the shanties were built.

Near the top the hill began to flatten out, and the road curved around and headed directly toward the governor’s mansion, which was contained in a large compound encircled by a tall, wire mesh fence.

The shanties had thinned out up there, but Carter suspected that farther back into the interior were more of them. Tieggs confirmed it.

“You can see them back in the hills on a fly-over if you watch for them.”

“Concealed in the trees?”

“The brush back there is pretty thick. Besides, they don’t like company.”

“Who do you suppose Yun Lo worked for?” Carter asked, changing the subject.

Tieggs glanced at him. They were approaching the compound’s gate. Carter could see a couple of armed guards there.

“I think no one.”

“Then why did he try to kill me?”

“He knew you were an investigator here to look over the situation. He may have thought you’d come after him. Because of Handley.”

“The entire island knows I’m here?”

Tieggs smiled. “Every last one of them.”

They pulled up at the gate, armed guards approaching from both sides.

“Bon soir,” Carter said and continued in French. “With my compliments to Governor Rondine and his wife, tell him Monsieur Nicholas Carter is here, with his driver.”

For several long moments neither guard said or did a thing. They remained rooted to where they stood, staring at Carter as if he were some kind of apparition.

“Neither your governor nor I are patient men,” Carter snapped.

The guard on the opposite side spun around and hurried into the guardhouse, and through the window Carter could see him pick up a telephone. Meanwhile, the other guard had placed his hand on the butt of his pistol at his hip.

In the overhead light from a stanchion above the gate, Carter could clearly see the man’s face. He was a European, there was little doubt of that in Carter’s mind, and yet there was an ever-so-slight Oriental cast to his features. Perhaps a grandparent had been Oriental.