Samuel Edwards - Neptune

Trying to face the truth squarely in what might become the greatest crisis of his life, Porter had to admit he had no idea why he was willingly taking such great risks. Perhaps it was a desire to out-think, out-plan, and out-act the brains of the KGB. Perhaps he wanted to show off, principally for his own benefit, in order to prove that someone who would be a misfit in a society of normal, law-abiding people had a valid claim to existence. It was even possible he was behaving rashly because he was so bored he had nothing else to occupy his time and thoughts.

Other than Adrienne, and he would not allow himself to think about her.

The door opened, and Porter reached for his Lilliput, but relaxed when Nancy came into the room.

She was wearing a shawl of some thin material draped in a sarong-like effect over her swimming attire, her hair was piled on top of her head and she looked fetching, as usual, but she was distinctly out of sorts. ‘I just got out of the pool,’ she said, ‘but I’m as wet as I’d be if I’d stayed in the water. I’ve never minded the heat in Hong Kong or Macao. Or even Singapore. But this place is too much.’

‘I have no intention of bringing you back to Papua New Guinea to live happily ever after,’ he assured her.

Suddenly she smiled. ‘Our bodyguards are unbelievable. The assistant steward was on duty while I was swimming. Making certain I didn’t drown, run away or something. And would you believe he was wearing a jacket and necktie while trying to make himself inconspicuous?’

‘I suppose the KGB regulations require it.’

‘Just so he and the others are unobtrusive when they follow us tonight. Where shall we dine?’

‘One place is as bad as another,’ Porter said. ‘We can wander up the road – all three blocks of it – and see what we can find.’

‘Then I won’t dress up particularly. I may wear a cheongsam.’

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘You’ll be better appreciated as an Occidental in Port Moresby. There’s always been a strong feeling against Chinese here, largely because they own the most prosperous shops and businesses in town.’

‘One of the things I like best about you,’ Nancy said as she went off to the bedroom, ‘is that you’re a one-man Baedeker.’

Porter helped himself to a beer from a wheezing refrigerator that nevertheless was in running order, and decided not to dress until Nancy was ready. One wore clothes in Papua New Guinea only when necessary.

She surprised him by taking very little time preparing for the evening, and she returned in a short time, her make-up and bare-armed dress western, as he had suggested.

‘Just give me a couple of minutes,’ he said, hurrying to the bedroom. ‘The only breeze is out on the little balcony. It isn’t much, but it’s better than nothing.’

‘This is the first time I’ve ever been in a place where even breathing requires an effort,’ she said.

Porter quickly donned trousers, a sports shirt and socks, and was slipping on a pair of loafers when a chilling scream from the other room snapped him erect.

He snatched his Magnum and raced into the living-room.

Nancy was standing on the balcony, immobilized by terror, and extending from the wooden wall only two inches from her head was the hilt of a still-quivering knife.

Porter instantly pulled her into the room, shoved her to one side, out of range of a possible assassin, and then peered out. In the growing dusk he saw no one in the tangled hotel garden below, and he advanced cautiously, the safety catch removed from his Magnum. A thorough inspection revealed that no one was in the garden.

Returning to the living-room he guided the girl to a chair, then poured her a stiff drink. While she recovered he removed the knife from the wall and examined it. The handle was of bone, the blade double-edged, and there was no way of determining whether it had been made in Papua New Guinea or imported. It looked like knives fashioned in many parts of the world, and all he knew as he weighed it in the palm of his hand was that it had perfect balance. Obviously it had been made for throwing.

Still holding the knife, he turned to Nancy.

She had recovered sufficiently to have regained her powers of speech. ‘I saw no one down there,’ she said. ‘I was actually looking at the garden, too, and wondering how they manage to keep the jungle from creeping up the walls. There wasn’t a soul down there, I could almost swear it.’

There was at least one person in the garden,’ Porter said. ‘An 156 expert thrower, too. You weren’t an easy target in the half-light, and he had to throw on a rise, which is far more difficult than on a level plane. And he didn’t miss you by much.’

‘Just enough,’ she said, and shuddered.

‘He was no amateur, that’s certain.’ Porter closed the shutters before turning on the electric lights, and he, too, took care to avoid the balcony.

‘I think we’ll have dinner right here in the hotel, no matter how frightful it is.’

He absently tossed the knife up and down, saw that the gesture disturbed her and placed it under his belt at the small of his back. ‘Nobody could have mistaken you for me,’ he said. ‘The specific target was Nancy Wing, and the method was direct. Who wants you dead?’

‘I don’t know.’ Her fright was genuine.

But Porter still had no way of determining whether she was withholding information from him. ‘Why would anyone want to kill you?’ he persisted.

‘I honestly don’t know.’

Obviously he could not analyse her situation or assess his own vulnerability unless he was supplied with facts. T think we can rule out the KGB. They could dispose of either of us – or both of us – without sweat – on board the aeroplane.’

Nancy nodded, and it was apparent the same thought had occurred to her.

‘We can rule out personal enemies for the simple reason they’d have no way of knowing you were in Port Moresby. It’s also unlikely that the motive was robbery. You aren’t wearing any expensive jewellery that would attract a thief, the wall from the ground up to the balcony isn’t easy to climb, and a robber very possibly would have known that you weren’t alone here.’

She glanced at him, then looked away.

Instinct told him she wasn’t revealing her own deductions, but he continued his breakdown. ‘What’s more, a knife really isn’t a local weapon. In the interior they sometimes use clumsy spears like the ones used by your ancestors and mine thousands of years ago, but their knives, which they used for skinning animals, are made out of heavy stone and aren’t fit for throwing. The people of New Guinea much prefer firearms, even hopelessly old-fashioned rifles and pistols.’

‘I don’t believe a robber would have taken the risk of killing me in return for what he could have taken from me.’

‘By a process of elimination,’ Porter said, ‘we come to Chinese intelligence.’

Nancy was silent, and seemed to stiffen.

‘They’re the logical candidates. But why would they want you out of the way?’

‘I have no idea.’ She had regained her composure.

‘Even more important, I don’t see how they could have known we’d come to Port Moresby when we didn’t know it ourselves until we landed.’

‘They might have intercepted and decoded the wireless message from Moscow to the pilot.’

‘That could be,’ Porter said, and thought of another possibility. Nancy might have found some way to notify the Chinese of her whereabouts, perhaps through some pre-arranged method. But, if he was correct, Peking could have decided she was untrustworthy, had let them down or knew too much to be left at large. Any one of these reasons would be enough to seal her death warrant.