Samuel Edwards - Neptune

Night was falling, but there was no diminution of traffic, and in spite of the almost suffocating heat the residents of Singapore emulated the brisk walk of a Londoner or New Yorker. No one strolled. The city-state was a tightly-knit little nation in a hurry. There was none of the drabness of Peking here, none of the poverty of Calcutta or the smug complacency of Hong Kong.

Porter and Nancy checked into their hotel, and he saw that only two and a half hours remained before his scheduled meeting with the KGB representative, so he headed straight for the shower. Returning to the bedroom, clad only in his shorts, he found Nancy systematically searching his wallet and his suitcase.

There was a hint of sadness in her smile. ‘Forgive me, darling, but you left me no choice. I need the specifications for the large submarine, and I must have them immediately.’

He took a single step forward, but halted when he found himself looking into the muzzle of her tiny Kolibri. Too late he realized that his own weapons rested on a dressing table behind her.

‘Believe me,’ she said, ‘after all you’ve done for me I didn’t want it to happen this way.’

Porter ignored her pointed pistol, and picking up a clean shirt from the floor, where she had thrown it while emptying his luggage, he began to dress.

‘I’ll do whatever is necessary to get those documents from you,’ she said. ‘Anything at all.’

He continued to dress.

‘Don’t force my hand,’ Nancy said.

Porter simulated a yawn. ‘In the first place,’ he said, ‘I have no documents here. Surely you don’t think I’d be stupid enough to carry them on my person when we’ve been the guests of the Russians all these weeks!’

‘You must have them! I’ve seen microfilms the size of a tiny pinhead, so I know—’

‘In a situation such as the one we’ve been in,’ Porter said, buckling his belt, knotting his necktie and reaching for his jacket, ‘I prefer human ingenuity to such wonders of our age as microfilm dots. Now, as I was saying, you could shoot me, and you’re welcome to try. If you kill me, however, you’ll never get the documents, will you?’

Nancy glared at him and bit her lower lip.

‘I’ve had every intention of sharing a very large sum of money with you so we could ride off into the sunset together,’ he said. ‘Whatever became of that lovely dream?’

‘I’m under obligations to get those documents and give them to certain people. If I fail, I won’t live long enough to ride off into any sunset.’

‘More’s the pity.’ Porter reached out swiftly, slapped her hand aside and, catching hold of her wrist, forced her to drop her tiny pistol.

She cursed him.

Paying no attention, he strapped on his Magnum and slipped his Lilliput into his jacket pocket. ‘My dear,’ he said, kicking her pistol under the bed, ‘I urge you to have greater faith in me. I’ll come back here for you as soon as I’ve finished my meeting—’

‘I don’t believe you,’ Nancy cried. ‘You’ve been planning all along to desert me! You’re no more in love with me than I am with you.’

Porter had to concede that she was a somewhat better actress than he had imagined. ‘Oh, well. Let’s say I’m fond of you, so I’m willing to meet you after my conference.’

Her eyes filled with angry tears. ‘You’ll trick me, as you’ve done all along.’

‘The same to you,’ he said, and grinned.

‘You’ve used me as window dressing. I still don’t know why, and I suppose it doesn’t much matter that you’ve been working on one of those complicated schemes the Americans love.’

Porter’s shrug was eloquent.

‘If I don’t deliver those blueprints,’ Nancy said, ‘I’m in trouble.’

‘Too bad your friends didn’t come straight to me and offer a cash deal. I’d have done for them what I’m doing for the KGB.’

‘How much do you want?’

‘I’m afraid it’s a bit late now for that sort of thing,’ Porter said. ‘The Russians are keeping me under the closest possible surveillance and you know it as well as I do. They’d be distinctly unhappy if I sold a set of specifications to someone else. Besides, I don’t happen to carry a duplicating machine with me. Give my compliments to my friends in Peking, and tell them that next time I hope they’ll take advantage of their opportunities more quickly.’

Nancy’s hands fell to her sides. ‘You don’t care what becomes of me.’

If she gave as good a performance in her films, he thought, she would become a star. ‘Do you know the Chung Lai restaurant on Harbour Road?’

A flicker of hope appeared in her eyes. ‘Of course.’

‘Meet me there at eight this evening. I’ll either come for you myself or send word where you’re to go. If you’re being followed – and I assume you will – you may have to shake off the tail.’

‘I’ll try,’ she said, but sounded dubious.

Porter raised a hand in salute, then left the room. Not giving the girl another thought, he was relieved to see that no one awaited him in the corridor, but he didn’t fool himself. KGB agents would be stationed at every entrance to the hotel, and would follow him wherever he went.

A sudden thought occurred to him as he walked down the hall, and he checked both of his guns. As he suspected, Nancy had removed the ammunition from both while he had taken a shower. He had been negligent, and now he had to return to the room to load the weapons. Rarely had he been this careless, and he was annoyed with himself as he doubled back.

He unlocked the door, stepped into the room and stopped short.

Nancy Wing was crumpled on the floor. Her neck had been broken, and her sightless eyes stared up at the ceiling.

No one else was in the room, the bathroom or the clothes closets.

The contents of Porter’s luggage were still scattered on the bed and floor. Nothing else in the room had been touched.

He had been absent from the room for no more than three or four minutes, so it was obvious someone had been lying in wait for Nancy, had entered as soon as he had departed and had killed her when she had revealed that she had been unable to obtain the documents from him. Later, perhaps, he could feel pity for the girl who had immersed herself beyond her depth in a profession where no quarter was given and none was expected.

Right now there were other things to be done, and no time to be lost. Certainly he couldn’t afford to linger here until the Singapore authorities found her body.

Digging into a corner pocket of his suitcase, he removed two clips of ammunition for his Magnum, loading the automatic with one and dropping the other into his pocket. Then he loaded his Lilliput and took an extra handful of bullets with him. He hadn’t planned to return for his belongings, but now it would be impossible for him to come back here.

As a final gesture he turned Nancy’s luggage upside down, scattering cosmetics and clothing. The room was in a shambles, and the police would believe that robbery had been the murderer’s motive. Only when he failed to return would he be under suspicion.

Porter looked for the last time at the body of Nancy Wing. He had lived with this girl. He had made love to her repeatedly, on more occasions than he cared to recall. Now the warmth and joy, real or feigned, that had flowed from her would never be given to another man.

As for himself, he felt nothing. Deep down, perhaps, there was a faint stirring of pity for a pretty, simple-minded creature whose greed had been her undoing. Aside from that one, quick stab, however, he was as indifferent to her fate as if she had been a total stranger.

That was all to the good. If Adrienne had been murdered, or even molested, he would abandon his mission, tear the hotel apart and find her killers, regardless of the consequences.