Шкондини-Дуюновский Аристах Владиленович. The Decoy Hit

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The Decoy Hit

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THE DECOY HIT
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PROLOGUE
Howard Clark had been an agent for enough years to know
when he was being tailed. On a night when most people
would be huddling in their homes to escape the wet and the
damp ofa misty London fog, why else would the same figure
be behind him, a block away, for the past twenty minutes?
Clutching the courier pouch which was beneath his rain-
coats close to his body, Clark began to take some evasive ac-
tion. If the man was good, he wouldn't be able to lose him,
and that would verify his that the man was a tail. If that
were the case, he would have to take steps to "cut off his
tail. "
It was early evening and, despite the dreary weather,
many shops and stores were still 01Rn, He picked several
stores for their size, which would indicate that they should
have more than one entrance and exit.
He entered each store, trying to blend in with the other
shoppers while working his way toward an alternate exit.
Four times he did this, and four times he discovered that
the man was still there.
So, he was a tail, and he was a professional.
It was time to take stronger action. Lead the man some-
where quiets where he could take care of him with a mini-
mum of attention.
Clark knew London well, and he knew just where he
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wanted to take his tail so that he could perform the "amputa-
tion. "
It was an alley in a part of London which had once been
prosperous, but had fallen on hard times. Where there had
once been many little out-of-the-way shops, and some resi-
dences, there were now only boarded-up buildingsqand emp-
ty streets.
And an alley that suited Clark's purpose. The mouth ofthe
alley was small, but it opened into a nice-sized cul-de-sac.
As he crossed the street toward it, it would have been plain to
anyone watching that he was heading for that particular
alleyway.
"Alleyway" was a generous way to describe it, because
as he walked through, his shoulders almost simultaneously
rubbed both walls.
He came out into the cul-de-sac and moved to the side,
flattening his back against the wall. The man would be fool-
ish to follow, but rather than lose Clark, he would have to.
Clark stood quietly, controlling his breathing, listening
for the footsteps of his tail. In his right hand he held his gun,
a Browning that he had used for years. His left arm was flat-
tened against his side, with the pouch nestled between.
Clark had also been an agent long enough to realize when
he had made a mistake.
Listening intently for any sounds coming from the alley-
way, he heard instead a sound from behind him. Before he
could react, someone grabbed him by his wet hair, pulling
his head back so that the entire length of his neck was
exposed.
As he felt the sharp blade slice across his throat, splitting
the skin and severing the arteries, he knew in a flash that he
had made a mistake, that he had spotted the back tail, and
had totally missed the front tail. He had been "double-
tailed," and failing to notice that fact had been a fatal
mistake.
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ONE
People in the espionage field—men and women—know
that they are involved in a very serious business; still. many
of them often refer to it as "the game."
"That's the way sthe game' is played. "
'*You've got to play by the rules of •the game.' "
SSSomebody has to win, somebody has to lose. It's just
like 'a game.' "
It's a game, and they are "the players. "
David Hawk, the head of the su}rr secret government
agency called AXE, seemed intent on making it more of a
game, however. That's the way it seemed to Nick Carter,
anyway. When Nick arrived at his boss' office in the Amal-
gamated Press and Wire Services Building on Dupont Circle
in D.C., he was invited to have a seat, and then he was asked
an odd question.
"When you were a child, N3, did you ever have a
"Excuse me, sir?" Nick asked, not sure he had heard
Hawk correctly. In all the years Nick had known and worked
with the older man, they had never discussed the subject
before.
"A peg board," Hawk said again. "You know, one with
different-sized holes, all different shapes, and you have to fit
the prorEr-sized into the prcp hole?"
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"Uh, I believe I did, sir, yes, '9 Nick replied, still puzzled.
"Don't frown at me as if you think I've gone senile, N3, ' '
Hawk said sharply.
"I'm sorry, sirs" Nick said hastily, "I didn't realize—"
"Never mind," Hawk said. He opened his top drawer and
took out a metal cylinder that looked like it probably con-
tained a very expensive cigar.
"This is for you," the older man said, extending it across
the desk to Nick.
"I don't much like cigars," Nick said, accepting it from
him. Hawk ignored the remark.
"You have in your hand the object of what we call 'Pro-
ject Round Peg,' s" Hawk explained.
Nick turned it over in his hands and said, "Looks like a
round peg, all right."
"It is, practically speaking," Hawk replied, "and your
job is to find the round hole that it will fit into."
Nick shook the cylinder and asked, "What's in it?"
"Knowing that is notimportant to your assignment. "
"Am I playing in the dark again, sir?" Nick asked. "That
was one thing I didn't like to do as a child.
Nick shook the cylinder again, but for all the reaction he
got from inside, it could just as well have been empty. It felt
light enough to be empty.
"If you've finished with your remarks, I'll get on with my
explanation, " Hawk said dryly.
"Oh, yes, sir, go on, please," Nick said, closing his hand
around the object and resting his hands in his lap.
"You knew Howard Clark, I believe?"
"Yes, sir, I know—uh, sir? Knew Howard, did you
"Yes. His body was discovered in London yesterday.
He'd been missing for several days." Hawk paused, then
added, "His throat had been cut, "
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Howard Clark had been a colleague of Nick's until he
jumped agencies, going to the DIA years ago. He was one of
the Defense Intelligence Agency's best men—and now he
was dead.
"Does his death have anything to do with this?" Nick
asked, holding up the "round peg. "
"Yes," Hawk answered, "it does. Clark was acting as a
courier at the time of his death.
"Carrying this?"
"No. He was carrying something that was vital to the
DIA, but the point is that he was the fourth United States
courier killed this year. It has to stop, Nick."
"I agree, wholeheartedly," Nick Carter said. "Do we
know who has been knocking off these couriers?"
' 'No, we don't."
'Not even whether or not it was one particular country, or
an independent operator looking for something to peddle?"
"We don't know," Hawk said. "I've met with the offi-
cials of other intelligence agencies, and even putting our
heads together, we can't figure that part out. "
"And there's nothing coming down the pipeline?"
"How vital is the information that we've been losing?"
"It is vital, but not critical," Hawk replied. "If another
country has already purchased it, we wouldn't necessarily
hear about it. "
"And what about this?" Nick asked, holding up the
cylinder.
"That," Hawk said, pointing with the index finger of his
right hand, "is vital, which is why you've been chosen to de-
liver it. "
"Deliver it where?"
"Not where, but to whom. "
' 'All right, to whom?"
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'This man," Hawk said. He passed Nick a five-by-seven
photo ofa gray-haired man in his early sixties. ' 'Dr. Anton
I*ctor. "
"And where is he?"
"Well, up until yesterday he was in London."
"Up until yesterday," Nick repeated. ' 'The same day
Clark's bcxiy was found?"
"Yes."
"Connection?"
"Only in that the incident seems to have spooked him into
going underground. "
"I think I'm getting the picture now." Nick said, every-
thing finally adding up. "I'm supposed to deliver this little
doodad to Dr. Lector, but first I've got to find him. "
"Correct. "
"At the same time, I've got to be on the lookout for who-
ever has been knocking off our couriers. "
'*Correct, again."
"So this is the 'round peg,' and Dr. Lector is the 'round
hole,' " Nick summarized,
"Exactly."
"I assume you've got me booked on a flight to London. "
"Tonight," Hawk said, nodding. Again his hand dipped
into his top drawer, and he said, "Here's your ticket,"
handing an envelope to Nick. He took it and tucked it away
in his inside breast pocket.
"In that envelope you will also find the last known ad-
dress of Dr. Lector while he was in London."
"Well, then, that's the place to start," Nick said, standing
up. "You realize that he not only may have gone under-
ground, he may have left London altogether. "
"l realize that, yes," Hawk replied. "Talk to our people
in London, N3. If you decide that the doctor has gone to
some other country, you will just have to go after him. "
"Luckily, my passport is in order. "
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Hawk stood up and said, "I don't have to tell you to be
careful, or to stay in touch."
s 'No, sir, you don't. "
"Very well. You are the man we decided was most able to
carry the round peg, N3. Please don't let anything happen to
it. "
"Don't worry, sir," Nick told him, holding the object in
front of him. "I'll treat it as if it were the best of Cuban
cigars, "
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Two
When Nick Carter left David Hawk's office, there was
someone waiting for him in the outer office.
"She said she was waiting for you, Mr. Carter," Hawk's
secretary informed him.
"Is that so?"
He looked at the young lady in question and found her to
be quite easy on the eyes. She was about twenty-four, with
auburn hair that did not quite reach her shoulders. She had
very clear brown eyes and a very smooth, pale complexion.
Her body appeared to be full and firm, She was very pretty,
indeed. Under normal circumstances, he might have been
trying to think of an approach to use on her, but these were
not normal circumstances.
Nick wanted to know how she knew where to find him,
and what she knew—if anything—about the Amalgamated
Press and Wire Services Building.
' 'Are you waiting for me?" he asked her, approaching the
chair she was seated in.
She stood up immediately, revealing herself to be better
than five feet seven.
"Are you Nick Carter?" she asked.
"I am."
"Then I'm waiting for you. I would like to talk to you
about Howard Clark—if you have some time. "
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Nick frowned and asked, "What do you know about
Howard Clark?"
"All that there is to know," she answered. "I'm his
daughter. "
Daughter, Nick thought. He knew that Howard had a
daughter, but he thought she was .
She smiled and interrupted his thoughts by saying, "You
thought I was a little girl."
"Yes."
she said. "Can we go somewhere and
"So did he,"
"Uh, sure, I've got a little time," he said, wondering if
she knew that her father was dead. "Let's go downstairs and
have lunch somewhere. "
"That's fine."
During the years that Nick had known Howard, he had al-
ways talked about his "little girl, but this wasn't a little girl
anymore. She had grown up, and filled out.
He was trying to remember her name—or remember if
he'd ever even known it—while they picked out a place for
lunch. They finally settled on a small steakhouse cleverly
called SS The First Family. "
When they were seated and had placed their orders, she
leaned her arms on the table and said, "My father talked
about you quite a lot. I thought you would be older."
"I am," he assured her.
She smiled and said, "He liked you."
"I liked him, too," Nick answered before he realized that
they were both speaking in the past tense. In that moment,
her name came to him and he said, "Stephanie, you
know—
"Yes, I know niy father's dead," she said, interrupting
him. Her mother had died, he remembered, during the time
that Howard had worked for AXE.
"I'm sorry.
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"I know you are. You were one of the few men my father
liked in this business. "
"You know about your father's business?"
"0h, yes,"
she said, rummaging about in her handbag
now. "I told you I knew all there was to know." She found
what she was for and added, "This might make you
feel a bit easier about talking to me. "
She withdrew her hand from her handbag and handed him
a laminated photo identification card identifying her as an
employee of the Defense Intelligence Agency. Unlike AXE,
the DIA was not a covert agency. Nick examined the card
and handed it back to her, convinced that it was the real
thing.
"You see?" she said. "We're in the same business."
"What is it you do for the DIAS Stephanie?" Nick asked.
She replaced the card in her handbag—probably in the ex-
act same spot, because it took her just as long to put it back as
it had for her to get it out. After she had it safely tucked
away, she looked at him with a sheepish expression on her
face and said, "I, uh, I'm a file clerk."
"Okay," he said.
The waitress came with a salad for her and a medium steak
for Nick, and they suspended conversation while she set the
plates down.
When the waitress left, Stephanie Clark said, "All right,
so I'm only a file clerk. I still want to know what happened to
my father. "
"Stephanie, you know what kind of business your father
was in," Nick reminded her.
"Sure, I know," the girl answered, "but that doesn't
mean I just have to accept his death. I want to know how,
ar.d why."
- "Why have you come to me? Haven't you taken it up with
the DIA?"
"The DIA also thinks of me as just a file clerk, " she said.
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"My father was the best man they had, Nick, but he always
said that you were the best there was in the business. "
Nick didn't quite know what to say to that, so he remained
silent and cut into his steak.
"Nick, I want you to find out who killed him. "
Nick started to shake his head and she exclaimed, "Why
not? You were his friend. "
"A lot of my friends are dead, Stephanie," he informed
her. "I don't have the time to go out and find out who killed
them all. It's part of the game."
"Damn you!" she hissed, but not so loud that anyone else
in the place could hear her. "That's just what they've been
telling me at the DIA, that it's a game and dying is part of it.
Well, I don't buy it!"
"I'm sorry, Stephanie," Nick said. "l couldn't look into
your father's death if I wanted to. I've been given an
assignment—
"You're the great Nick Carter, aren't you?" she de-
manded, standing up. "You could if you wanted to, but you
just don't want to. I guess my father was wrong about you.
From where I stand, you don't look so great. "
"I'm sorry you feel that way. .
"I'll find out myself," she went on. "That's what I'll do.
I'll find out who killed him by myself. s'
Nick grabbed hold of her wrist before she could walk
away and said, "This isn't a game, Stephanie."
"Well, that's what everyone's been telling me it is.
including you.
' 'Don't act like a child. "
She yanked her wrist from his grasp and said, "What have
you got to do that's so important that you can't find out who
killed your friend?"
She turned without waiting for an answer and stalked out
of the restaurant, which was just as well.
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What would she have thought if he had told her that he had
to go find a round hole for a round peg?
As Nick Carter left his office, David Hawk sat back in his
chair and marveled at how his job often precluded him from
being honest with his men—most notably, Nick Carter.
How many times, he wondered, had he sent agent N3 off
on an assignment without even telling him half of the truth?
As a Killmaster, Nick Carter was a professional who fol-
lowed his orders to the letter, and never veered from his as-
signed course—unless, of course, it suited his purpose, the
successful conclusion of his mission.
Hawk recognized that it was NYS individuality that made
him the finest of AXE's operatives. which was why he had
been entrusted with this particular assignment—armed this
time with input that was far less than half the truth.
There was, however, the one indisputable truth that ex-
isted almost every time Hawk sent N3 out to play his part in
the game—that it could result in the death of Nick Carter.
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THREE
Nick stared out his hotel window and wondered why it
rained almost every time he came to London. He had seen
much of what this great city had to offer from beneath the
eaves of an umbrella.
Nick had arrived in London just an hour earlier. Upon en-
tering his room at the London Hilton, he immediately placed
a telephone call to a prearranged number, the response to
which he was now awaiting with impatience. Problems at
each end of his flight had caused him to arrive much later
than anticipated, and he was anxious to get started on his
assignment.
While waiting for the call, he had called room service and
ordered a pot of coffee and a bottle of bourbon. One was
gone and the other half gone, and the call still had not come.
He filled in the time thinking about Howard Clark and his
"little girl," Stephanie. He hoped the girl wouldn't try any-
thing foolish, hut if she was anything like her father, then she
was not short of courage and determination; yet she was just
young enough to temper those with impetuosity. The three
made a dangerous, volatile combination.
Pe had just decided to have no more and ordered
a second IX)t of coffee, when the phone rang.
"Mr. Carter?" a man's voice asked. It sounded young,
but that was an excuse for stupidity.
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"You must have the wrong room," Nick said coldly.
"0h, yes," the voice said, half to himself, and then, "l
thought this was room N3. Did you, uh, did you want an
estimate?'
"Christ, yes," Nick said, "and it's about time."
"I'm sorry I couldn't call sooner," the man replied, "but
when you were delayed, I became delayed.
"All right, let's forget all the delays," Nick suggested.
"What have you got for me?"
"Nothing. "
"You've heard nothing at all?" Nick asked. "That means
that at least he hasn't turned up in the hands of some foreign
government. '
"Not so you'd notice," the man said. He was obviously
American, as there was no trace whatsoever of a British
accent.
"All right, who checked the house?"
S 'One of our people. "
"I'll check it again. "
"We've checked—"
"So I'll check it again. If I need anything, I'll call you. "
"As you wish,"
the man said, sounding insulted.
"Good night. "
"Yeah, good night. "
Nick hung up and silently began cursing airplanes and air-
ports. If he'd arrived earlier, he could have checked out the
house tonight. Now he'd have to wait until morning.
Or would he?
Dammit„ why should he?
He threw on his coat, checked his personal arsenal—
Wilhelmina, Hugo, and Pierre—and then left the room, It
was only ten which, when you thought about it. wasn't
that late at all. And he certainly wasn't ready to retire for the
evening, so he might as well go to work.
He left the hotel without an umbrella, turned up his collar,
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and asked the doorman to get him a cab. True, an umbrella
would have made sense in the rain—if he were a banker. It
also occupied one or both of his hands, and he needed them
free at all times. He'd much rather be alive and wet than dead
and dry.
He gave the cabbie the last known address for Dr. Lector
and sat back to think about his job. The "round peg" was
tucked away in his inside breast pocket. He could have hid-
den it in his room somewhere, but a pro would have found it
no matter where he put it. It was better to have it on him and
know where it was at all times. To take it away from him,
someone would have to kill him and then it wouldn't much
matter to him anymore where it was.
Nick was not normally assigned courier work, but with the
way United States couriers had been dropping, this was a Iit-
tle more than just routine courier stuff. Nick had three jobs.
One, find Lector and deliver the round peg; two, stay alive;
and three, stop whoever has been killing the American
couriers.
Not necessarily in that order, of course.
When the cab stopped, Nick paid the driver and got out,
hunching his shoulders against the rain. He scanned the rows
of d(Xjrways for the right number and then climbed the stairs.
Stepping into the foyer, he found six mailboxes. Naturally,
the name Lector was not on any of them. There was, howev-
er, an A. Lester, which showed a great deal of imagination
on somebody's part. The flat was on the second floor, so
Nick rang the two third-floor doorbells and was admitted by
an obliging tenant. He hurried to the second floor and moved
into the shadows while someone on the third-floor landing
came out and peered down the steps.
"Cheeky kids, a man's voice said in disgust, then Nick
heard the retreating footsteps and a closing door.
He moved down the hall to A. Lester's room and, using
lock picks, let himself in. Once inside, he drew all of the cur-
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tains and turned on a small lamp. Going into the kitchen, he
searched for and found a dish towel, then took it back into
the living room with him and set it on the floor against the
door so the light wouldn't show in the hall.
That done, he removed his wet coat, draped it over a
chair, and then studied the layout. Living room, bedroom,
and kitchen. Three rooms, and a comfortable enough look-
ing place.
Checking the bedroom first, he found drawers half filled
with clothes and a closet to match.
"The doctor left in a big hurry," he said to himself. Aside
from the clothing, there wasn't much else to be found, so he
checked the kitchen next. He didn't know what he was look-
ing for, so he didn't skip anything. He checked cereal boxes,
sugar bowls, anywhere a man could conceivably hide some-
thing, but came up empty each time. Moving to the living
room, he fared no better. The doctor had left in a hurry and
hadn't left anything behind to indicate where he might have
gone.
Nick shrugged back into his coats which hadn't had time
to dry, and glanced around one last time. If there was any-
thing there to be found, he would have found it. This was a
dead end, and once he left, there'd be no reason for him to
come back.
Now he could either go back to his hotel and get some
sleep, or he could walk out the front door and try and put
himself into Anton Lector's frightened shoes.
Where would I go if I was a frightened scientist afraid of
getting killed if I stayed in one place for too long?
The only problem with putting himself in the man's shoes
was that the man was not a pro. His movements would be
made not from logic, but from emotion.
Nick left the apartment, pulling the door shut behind him,
locking it automatically. He checked the stairwell, found it
empty, and made his way to the ground level. He was in the
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foyer, with his hand on the outside door, when something
tugged at his eyes. It was just a flash of white, but it was
enough to make him turn his head and look at the row of
mailboxes.
There was an envelope, or a sheet ofpaper, in the mailbox
marked A. Lester. Nick removed his hand from the door-
knob and went over to the boxes. Using Hugo, his trusty
knife, he pried the top of the mailbox off and reached inside.
It was an envelope addressed to "Dr. " A. Lester, and the re-
turn address was Paris, France.
He tucked the envelope into his inside breast pocket and
left the building.
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FOUR
When Nick stepped outside, he found that the rain had ta-
pered off to a light drizzle, but it was still chilly enough for
him to turn up his collar.
As he started down the stairway to the street, a chill ran
down his spine, and it had nothing to do with the weather. He
hadn't heard the shot, but the sound of the bullet glancing off
the iron railing was very audible, and he moved instinc-
tively.
He vaulted the railing to his right, and as he fell to the
ground, he found that the drop was much deeper than he had
anticipated. The dark had hidden the fact that there was a
stairwell leading down. It was like stepping off a roof into
space without knowing how high the roof was. His stomach
lurched as he continued to fall, trying to keep his feet under
him, and then halfway down he struck the stairway with both
feet. As he landed, one foot slid out from under him on the
wet stairs, and he lurched forward head first down the re-
mainder of the steps. He struck a concrete wall with his
shoulder and bounced off, falling to his hands and knees in a
puddle a couple of inches deep.
Although he was dizzy from the fall—both falls—and the
rough landing, his unique instinct for survival was still work-
ing. Whoever had fired the shot was probably on his way
across the street to check on his success or failure. Nick had
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moved so quickly that the would-be killer might have
thought that the impact of the shot had knocked him over the
railing.
Nick looked up the steps and realized that if the killer
came upon him now, he had nowhere to run. The man could
just stand at the head of the steps and fire a shot down. Even
if he missed, it would ricochet off the concrete walls enough
times to finally find its mark.
Still on his knees, Nick reached out with his right hand
and encountered wood, not concrete. He staggered to his feet
and fronted the door, finding it locked.
"Shit," he said. He tested it and although it was flimsy,
he felt it might hold against his shoulder. He produced Hugo
again and began to force the blade ofthe sharp knife between
the door and the doorjamb. With a satisfying click, the bolt
clicked back and the door opened inward. As he stumbled
into the darkness, a shot rang out. As he shut the door behind
him, he heard the sound of the slug ricocheting around, and
then striking the door.
There was no time to catch his breath. The would
be on his way down the steps now, and the door wouldn't
stop him any longer than it had stopped Nick. Of course, N3
could have stood and fought, waiting with his gun out for the
man to come busting through the door, but on the off chance
that he came out second best, he didn't want the "round
peg" he was carrying to fall into the wrong hands.
He felt for a light switch, found one, and turned it on. A
weak twenty-five watt bulb bathed him in dim light. but it
was bright enough for him to find a two-by-four on the floor.
He picked it up, jammed one end against the wall opposite
the door and the other end against the door. It was an almost
perfect fit. He stomped on the lower end in order to wedge it
in more, and then started down the hallway toward a flight of
stairs.
As he ascended the stairs, he could hear the would-be as-
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sassin pounding on the door. Even if the man fired through
the door, smashing the lock, the two-by-four would still
hold.
When Nick got to the top of the stairs, he encountered a
closed door and hoped it would not be locked. He was in
luck. As he turned the knob, the door opened and he stepped
into another hallway. He accidentally slammed the door be-
hind him, and a few moments later, a door in the hallway
opened and a woman stepped out, spotlighted by the light
coming from her room.
"Who's there?" she called out.
"Don't be alarmed, miss," Nick called out.
"I ain't alarmed, ducks," she said, "but you lcx.)k to be.
What are you doing out here?"
Nick found himself breathing hard, and his shoulder and
knees were starting to ache. The shoulder was the result of
slamming it into the wall, and the knees no doubt had taken
the brunt of his landing.
"Would you believe," he said, "that I'm trying to avoid
an irate husband?"
The woman appeared to be in her early thirties—although
the dimness of the hallway might have been kind to her—and
well-built. She was wearing a robe that was open, revealing
a scanty nightie that barely covered her heavy breasts.
She peered at him to get a better look, then straightened
and posed with her hands on her hips.
"Seeing how pretty you are, luv," she said, "I'd say that
was very bloody likely. Would you, uh, like to hide in
here?" she asked, flicking her finger in the direction of her
room.
"That sounds like a good idea," he said.
"Step in, then, luv," she said, moving aside to allow him
room. She didn't give him too much room, though, and he
had to brush against her breasts in order to enter. She fol-
lowed him closely and shut the door behind them.
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"How many other rooms on this floor?" he asked.
"A few rooms and some other doors as well, ducky." she
said. "Your irate husband wouldn't want to wake everyone
up by pounding on all the doors, would he?"
He hoped not. The man—or woman, now that he had time
to consider—would have to make a split-second decision. If
he stopped to bang on doors, he might be giving his quarry
time to get further away-—and that was if and when he got by
that two-by-four. He might have given up on the door and
gone back up the steps, waiting for Nick to come out of the
building by some other door.
"Can I get you a drink?" she asked him. "You look like
you could use one.
"Thank you. "
Inside the well-lit apartment, Nick found that she looked
to be in her late thirties, with long black hair, dark eyebrows,
full, ripe lips. and just the hint of a second chin developing.
"Do you mind if I sit?" he asked.
"Not at all, luv,"
she answered. "I'll get you that
drink."
He took his coat off first, draped it inside out on a chair to
avoid getting anything wet. then sat down and took stock of
the damage.
Both knees of his pants were wet, but not ripped, and his
knees were aching something fierce. Likewise, his left
shoulder. which had struck the wall. He was lucky that he
hadn't struck his head. If he had, he'd have been a sitting
duck.
The apartment was very warm, and he found the source of
heat coming from a portable heater that was plugged in and
set against the wall opposite him.
"Whiskey all right?" she asked, coming into the room
carrying two half-filled water tumblers.
"Just right," he said, taking one.
"It's neat," she added, sitting next to him. "You don't
look like the sort of man who would ruin good whiskey."
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"I'm not," he said, and tasting the drink found that it was
indeed good whiskey.
"Your pants are wet,"
she said, putting a hand on his
knee. "Take them off. "
"l said take them off, luv. 1911 hang them on the back of a
chair by the heater. They'll be dry in no time."
"That's all right—
"Come on, luv, " she said, putting her glass aside and go-
ing down on one knee. "Get them off. We'll have to start
with the shoes first. Ooh, they're sopping wet, as well."
She undid the laces on his shoes and took them off, then
felt his socks and them off as well.
"Now the pants," she said, grabbing for his belt.
The tip of her head was just under his nose, and she
smelled clean and fresh, as if she had just stepped from a
shower or bath. The situation was ludicrous. Here he was
with a strange woman who was undressing him, and there
might be a killer in the hall looking for him—although he
doubted that. Chances were good that the man was either
gone or waiting outside somewhere. He didn't want to take a
chance on leaving t(X) soon. Just in case the latter was
true.
But in spite of the ridiculousness of the situation, he found
himself responding physically to the nearness of the woman.
"What's your name?" he asked as she tugged his pants
off. "I think we've come to a point in our relationship where
I should know that. "
"My name's Cordelia Grey," she said, taking his pants
and hanging them on a chair by the heater. "There, they'll
dry quickly there." She turned to face him and said, "I'm a
secretary, living here because it's all I can afford." She
looked around, then said, "It looks terrible,- doesn't it?
About all I can do is keep it clean. "
And it was that, Nick thought, as the warmth from the
heater seeped into his muscles.
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"Look at those knees!" she exclaimed.
"What about them?"
she said, "they're
"Well, aside from being pretty,"
bruised up pretty bad.
He took a closer and found that she was right. He
must have struck them on the ground after he bounced off the
wall.
"Guess they do look sort of messed up," he said,
grimacing as the ache in his shoulder flared.
"What else is wrong?" she asked, looking concerned.
"Banged my shoulder up," he said, "falling down those
outside steps. "
"You fell down the steps?" she said. "That fella must
have been pretty big for you to be in that much ofa hurry to
avoid him. You look like you're in fine shape."
"I was," he said, grimacing again.
"Maybe I can help you, " she said. "Take off your shirt."
"My shirt?"
"A hot compress and a massage might be just what your
shoulder needs, before it gets much worse. s'
"You've already done enough, Cordelia," he protested,
but she wasn't having any of it.
"Just drink your drink and I'll be right back. " She started
out of the room, then turned and said, "You haven't told me
your name. Aren't we at that point in our relationship yet?"
He smiled at her and said, "My name is Nick. 'S
"Sit tight, Nick, luv," she said. "and I'll be right back. "
While she was gone, Nick struggled to his feet and tried to
walk to the door, but found that his knees had stiffened up on
him. Forcing the issue, he shuffled to the door and pressed
his ear against it, but there was nothing to be heard. He had
just lowered himself back on the couch when Cordelia came
back with a hot compress.
"You still have your shirt on. "
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"Cordelia, you've been very kind—
27
' 'Don't argue," she said firmly, and began to unbutton his
shirt, He caught the hint of a new scent and realized that she
must have put on perfume.
'Cordelia, could I have a little more of that bourbon?" he
asked.
"Will you take off your shirt while I get it?"
"Yes."
She nodded and took his glass with her.
Nick hurriedly shrugged out of his jacket and shoulder
holster and wrapped Wilhelmina in the jacket so that she
wouldn't show. He pushed Hugo into the package as well,
along with Pierre. It wouldn't do for Cordelia to see his per-
sonal arsenal. It might frighten her into screaming—
although he doubted she was the screaming type. She
seemed to be a very competent woman, and not as flighty as
she might have first appeared. The apartment was clean, and
so was she, and he felt that she didn't belong in an apartment
this beneath her.
"Here you are," she said, coming back in, "and you've
got your shirt off. Good." He noticed that she had secured
the front of her robe.
She handed him the glass and then walked around behind
the couch. The T-shirt he was wearing was a tank-top style,
making it easy for her to put the compress right on his
shoulder.
she said,
"This looks pretty badly bruised, as well,"
touching the muscle with her fingers.
She alternated between massaging the muscle and holding
the compress to it, until it was no longer warm.
S S That's enough of that," she said, putting it aside. "Just
let me work on it a little more." She touched his shoulder
again. Nick wondered if she could notice the erection that
was straining at the front of his shorts.
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NICK CARTER
He heard a whisper of cloth, and then, as she massaged his
shoulder, he suddenly felt something on the back of his
neck. Hard points rubbed the skin on his nape, and he sud-
denly realized that what he felt were the swollen tips of her
breasts.
"This iS crazy," she breathed suddenly. She pressed her
chin down on the top of his head and rested her heavy breasts
on his shoulders so that the back of his neck was nestled in
the warm valley between them. Her hands traveled down,
and she ran them over his hard chest muscles, rubbing her
palms over his nipples. "Crazy," she said again. "but this
whole situation has me more excited than I've been in years,
Nick, right from the moment I saw you in the hall." She
reached down further with one hand, sliding it beneath the
waistband of his shorts, and she added, "You too, I see."
"Yes," he said, catching her wrist. "Me, too. Come
around here where I can reach you. "
She removed her breasts from the back ot his neck and
joined him on the couch, naked. Her breasts were large, and
the nipples and aureola were a dark brown, with darker
brown freckles on them in places.
He placed the palm of his hand over one of them, and she
closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. He bowed his head
and caught a nipple gently between his teeth, first rolling it
about, and then sucking on it.
"Let me," she said, sliding from the couch and crouching
between his legs. "Let me .
He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, feeling
the heat—the heat of the portable heater. the heat of the
bourbon, and the heat of her mouth as she drew on him.
"Is there a back way out of here?" he asked her later.
"Don't—" she started to say, but stopped. They were Iy-
ing in her bed, having moved there from the couch a couple
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Of hours before. She pressed her head against his chest and
said, "There are a couple, but one way leads to an alley that
goes into the next street, Marigold Lane. "
"I have to go," he said.
She kissed his chest, licked a nipple until it was hard, and
then rubbed her cheek against it, saying, "l know, I know. "
As he dressed, she said, "This was wonderful, Nick,
but—
"But what?" he asked.
"We won't ever see each other again, will we?"
He hesitated, then saw no point in lying.
"l doubt it, Cordelia. "
"You weren't running from an irate husband, were you?"
she asked, then held her hands up and said, "No, you don't
have to answer that. Forget I asked. "
She slid from the bed and started to get dressed, saying,
"I'll show you that door."
He nodded, then went to the living room for the rest of his
clothes. By the time she came out, he was dressed, with all
his weapons back in place.
"This way," she said, opening the door.
"Wait," he said, rushing to her and pulling her away
from the doorway. He checked out the hallway first, making
sure it was empty, then said, "All right."
She gave him a strange look, as if she were realizing what
strangers they really were, then walked past him and led him
down the hall. At the end they had to turn either left or right,
and she took him to the right and showed him the door to the
alley.
g 'This is it," she said.
"Cordelia—" he started, but she pressed her fingers to his
lips, then kissed him hard, but fleetingly. "Good luck, who-
. and thank you."
ever and whatever you are
She hurried back down the hall, and he watched until she
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NICK CARTER
was out of sight. Quite a woman, he thought. She deserved
more than a night with a stranger, no matter how wonderful
it had been between them.
He was sorry he couldn't give her more of himself, but he
had already given her more than he should have.
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FIVE
Nick had a few anxious moments when he stepped out into
the alley. He hadn't realized that it would be that narrow. It
was hardly more than a space between two buildings, and he
would have to turn sideways to negotiate it. While he was in
that small space, he'd make an easy target from either end,
but it had been hours since the attempt on his life, and he
chose to believe that a second attempt had been put off until
another time.
When he came out into Marigold Lane, it was still dark,
and the rain had stopped completely. With about an hour be-
fore the sun would start to come up, he headed back to his
hotel where he could soak in a hot tub and catch a few hours
sleep before he renewed his search for Anton Lector.
His clothing had dried well, and as he walked through the
lobby of his hotel, he drew no curious glances. He walked
directly to the elevator, rode to his floor, used his key, and
entered the entrance foyer of his room. There was a closet
and a small couch there, and further on was the actual
bedroom.
As he hung up his coat, he suddenly became aware, by
virtue of instinct only, that he was not alone in the room. He
withdrew Wilhelmina from her holster and reached for the
light switch, which was not in the room itself, but in the foy-
er. He flicked it on, and as bright light bathed the room, he
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NICK CARTER
rushed in and fell to one knee, holding his Luger out in front
of him.
"Jesus Christ!" Stephanie Clark snapped. "You scared
the wits out of me. "
She was lying fully dressed on his bed, which was still
made, and had obviously been asleep.
"Stephanie," he said, breathing a sigh of relief that he
hadn't killed her. S 'What the hell are you doing here?"
"I told you I was going to do some investigating on my
own," she reminded him, straightening her skirt so that it
covered her knees. "I followed you here," she said.
"You followed me?" he asked, incredulously. Surely she
hadn't been able to follow him without his seeing her. Was
he slipping that badly?
"Well, not followed you in the true sense of the word, "
she said. "I found out that you were coming to England, sol
came, too."
"How did you find out?"
"DIA contacts," she said. "Top secret."
"The DIA knew I was coming here?" he asked, rising to
his feet. He didn't like that, and what's more, he didn't un-
derstand it.
' 'l tapped into their main computer from the terminal in
my office," she explained. She noticed the look on his face
and said, "Don't look so grim. The DIA knows a lot of
things about a lot of people.
"Not about me," he said. "How did you get in here?"
"I took a room of my own, then asked for yours—2"
"I'm not registered under my real name," he said, inter-
rupting her. He was liking this less and less.
"I described you to the clerk, gave him a sad story and a
tickle under the chin, and then let myself in. "
"Something else you learned from a DIA computer, I sup-
pose?" he asked, taking off his jacket and shoulder holster.
"Not exactly," she said, smiling coyly. "I went out with
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NICK CARTER
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere near you when you do
what you do, " she sneered, and left, slamming the door be-
hind her.
Just what he needed, he thought as he filled the tub with
hot water, an amateur—and a girl besides—"mucking
about," as they said in this country, getting in the way and
trying to get herself killed.
Finding her father's killer was not his job, but it also was
not his job to stand around and watch her get herself killed.
Damn it.
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SIX
Nick soaked in the tub for a good half hour, giving the hot
water time to sink its warmth into the muscles of his knees
and shoulder. Wilhelmina was within easy reach on the
counter next to the tub, just in case. If Stephanie had been
able to find him, why not his would-be assassin? In the
morning he was going to have to move to another hotel, and
also get in touch with the AXE agent here in England. Then
he would contact Hawk, concerning the DIA knowing his
whereabouts and allowing a file clerk access to their
computers.
While he was drying off, he thought briefly of Cordelia
Grey, then pushed her out of his mind. There was no room
there for a woman he had only known a few hours, no matter
how intimate the circumstances had been.
He put on a robes picked up Wilhelmina, and walked out
of the bathroom. His eyes fell on his jacket, hanging over the
back of a chair, and he remembered the envelope he had
taken out of the mailbox and tucked into his pocket.
He put the gun in his robe pocket, picked up the jacket,
and removed the envelope. Whoever had addressed it to "A.
Lester" had made the mistake of writing "Dr." before it,
probably out of habit.
He took the letter and sat on the bed with it. The return ad-
dress had no name on it, but it did have a Paris address.
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Opening the envelope and taking the letter out, his fears
were confirmed when he saw that it had been written in
French.
The only thing that he was able to read clearly was the
name in the salutation. It was "Anton."
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Nick slept with his Luger underneath his pillow, and when
he woke up, he made two phone calls, one to room service
for breakfast, and the other to the coded number. He was al-
most finished with his continental breakfast by the time the
call was returned.
"Room N3?" the voice asked. It was the same voice he
had spoken with the night before.
"You got it right this time," Nick said. "Congratula-
tions. "
"Well," the man said, "did you find anything that our
FEOple missed when you went to—"
"Yes," Nick said, before the address could be men-
tioned, "l did."
did?" the man asked, sounding disappointed
"You .
and puzzled.
"I need someone who can read French," Nick said, and
then as an afterthought added, "and speak English. You got
"I've got it."
"Today.' '
"I'll do my best."
"Just do it right and I'll be happy. Call me back in an
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hour. "
-I can't-—
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anymore. ' '
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NICK CARTER
"In an hour," Nick said again. "After that I won't be here
"I'll do my best," the voice said.
"Shit," Nick said, and hung up.
Fifty minutes later, the phone rang while he was packing.
"All right," the voice said. "Where?"
"In the lobby. "
"The lobby? Why not your room?"
"I don't have a room here anymore," Nick said. Right
after he had hung up earlier, he had called the desk and told
them to make up his bill. "So it's the lobby. I'll be sitting
there with a brown two-suiter. Got it?"
"I've got it. Half an hour. "
Nick hung up, picked up his bag, and left the room, pull-
ing the door shut behind him. He just hoped he wouldn't run
into Stephanie during the next half hour.
Nick sat in the lobby for forty minutes, keeping one eye on
the front door for his interpreter, and the other on the eleva-
tors for Stephanie. He passed the time by trying to guess who
the interpreter was. At one point, a classy-looking brunette
walked in and he found himself hoping it was her, but she
walked to the front desk, spoke to the clerk, and left again.
After forty minutes, a nondescript man of average height
and average weight entered, looked around, spotted Nick's
brown two-suiter, and then started for him. Now this, Nick
thought, looks like an interpreter.
"Ate you the owner of this two-suiter?" the man asked in
perfect English.
"Yes," Nick said, standing up, "Come on."
"Where?" the man asked, looking puzzled.
"You'll see when we get there. Nick picked up his suit-
case and repeated, "Come on. "
They went outside and Nick asked the doorman to get
them a cab. When they were in a cab, Nick told the driver,
"Just drive around for a while."
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"Whatever you say, Guv," the man answered. With the
meter running, he didn't care if he had 10 drive around all day
long.
"What is the meaning of this?" the interpreter asked.
"Shouldn't matter to you where you do your job. as long
as you get it done," Nick said. He reached into his pocket
and took out the letter. want you to tell me what this
says," he instructed the man, handing him the single page.
"This is very irregular," the man complained. "I'm not
used to working under these sort of conditions. "
Nick didn't like the way things had been going right from
the beginning. First his contact sounded like a beginner, then
Stephanie shows up and tells him that the DIA is keeping
tabs on him. Now this prima donna didn 't like having to read
on the run. To top it all off, his knees and shoulder still
ached.
"Look, I'm sorry I couldn't set you up in the best hotel in
town just to read this thing, but I don't have time for that.
Tell me what it says or I'll let you off—without stopping. "
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Sounds to me like he would, friend, " the cabbie said.
"Thanks," Nick said. He looked at the other man and
said, "Well?"
'*Very well, as you wish," the man said. He started to
read the letter aloud: "Dear Anton, Received the time and
date of your arrival. Have told no one, as you instructed.
Hope you will tell me what is wrong when you arrive. I look
forward to seeing you, old friend. "
"Very concise," Nick said,
"What does it mean?" the man asked, handing it back to
Nick.
"That's not part of your job, pal," Nick said. He tucked
the letter away again, leaned forward, and tapped the cabbie
on the shoulder. "Let my friend out anywhere along here. "
CS You can't do that!" the interpreter said.
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NICK CARTER
"I'm sure you can find your way back," Nick said.
The cab pulled over and Nick reached past the man to
open the door.
"Thanks for your help.
The man rushed from the car, as if in a hurry to put as
much distance between himself and Nick as possible.
"Okay, let's go," Nick told the cabbie.
"Where to, Guv-nor?"
"Paris.'
"You're joking."
"Then make it the airport, and I'll take it from there. "
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EIGHT
Outside of Orly Airport, Nick took the fourth in a line of
cabs and told the driver to drive around for a while.
"As you wish, misieur," the man said, assuming that he
simply had another crazy American as a passenger.
When he was sure that he hadn't been followed from the
airport, Nick gave the man the name of a small hotel he knew
of off the beaten path; he had stayed there before.
"A good choice, m•sieur," the driver said. "I know of
this place. The food is magnifique. "
Which was not exactly the reason Nick was going to stay
there. but it certainly didn't hurt.
At the hotel, Nick paid the cabbie and tipped him gener-
ously, then went in and approached the desk.
The clerk, who was also the assistant manager, looked up
from his work to greet the new guest, and then his face lit up
as he recognized Nick.
"M'sieur Stuart," the man expounded. Whenever Nick
stayed there, he used the same name, Nick Stuart. This was
sortof a safe house for Nick, in that his "business" had nev-
er intruded on his stays there.
"Hello, Henri. "
"And how long will you be staying this time?" the assis-
tant manager asked.
"I'm not sure, Henri," Nick said, registering.
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"As if you ever do, eh?"
Nick grinned, took his key, and carried his own bag up to
his room on the second floor. He didn't know what the assis-
tant manager thought his business was, but the man rarely
failed to fulfill a request of his, and did so without question.
Before going up, he asked, "Could you have a pot of cof-
fee brought to my room, please?"
"Of course," the man replied happily. "Would you like
anything with it?"
"Some pastries, perhaps," he answered.
"Very well. You shall have them shortly. "
"Thank you, Henri."
' 'It is our pleasure to serve you, Mr. Stuart." the assistant
manager replied with a curt bow.
Nick went upstairs and was about to unpack. but decided
not to. There was no telling when he'd have to leave or how
short notice there would be.
The coffee and pastry were delivered by Henri himself.
who once more told Nick what a pleasure it was to have him
as a guest once again. When he left, Nick found both the cof-
fee and the cake delicious, as he had remembered. but re-
minded himself that he was not in Paris to reacquaint himself
with past pleasures.
He took the letter to "Dr. Lester" out of his pocket,
checked the address again, then tucked it away and left the
room. Out front, he flagged down a passing cab and gave
him the address. Ten minutes later, he was in front of the
building, paying the driver.
He checked the on the building against the num-
ber on the envelope, then mounted the front steps. It ap-
peared to be a two-story private residence, with one bell and
a single mailbox out front. He pushed in the button and
waited for an answer.
He didn't know exactly what he ex1Rcted, but it wasn't
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what he got, that was for sure. The door was answered by a
dark-haired, almond-eyed beauty whc looked him up and
down and asked him what he wanted, in French.
In English he replied, "I'm looking for a Pierre
LaMouche. Does he live here?"
"You are American," she said, making it more of a state-
ment than a question.
"Yes."
"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked. "l am
Marie LaMouche. ' '
"Well, Mrs. LaMouche—2" Nick began.
"Miss," the girl said, cutting him off. "Pierre LaMouche
is my father. 's
"I see. I'm sorry," Nick said. "Is he in?"
"He is not," she answered, "and that is why I have asked
you if there is anything I can do. "
"I'm afraid not," Nick said. "I really wanted to talk with
your father. "
she said, starting to close the
"In that case . .
"Uh, excuse me," he said, putting his hand out to stop the
door. She looked first at his hand, and then at his face.
"When will he be back?"
"Perhaps this evening. "
"Perhaps?" he asked, hoping she would elaborate.
' 'Oui, perhaps. Good-bye, m'sieur. "
"Good---" he said, but the door had already been closed.
"—bye. "
An extraordinarily lovely girl, he thought, but very rude.
In fact, almost too rude. She hadn't even asked him for his
name.
Could that have been because she already knew who he
was? Had she been waiting for him to ring the bell just so she
could tell him that her father wasn't home even if he was?
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Nick descended the front steps, but he already knew that
he'd be coming back later—and next time he wouldn't ring
the bell first.
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NINE
When Nick entered the lobby of his hotel, he saw Henri
break out into a wide smile.
"Misieur," Henri greeted. "Have you had a nice
"I've had better, Henri," Nick said. "Is everything all
right?" he asked, frowning at the hotel man.
Henri's eyebrows did a dance over his eyes, and he said,
' 'Oh. oui. m'sieur. Everything is just as you like it."
"l wish," Nick said. He walked toward the stairs to the
second floor, looked back at Henri, who was still grinning
from ear to ear, and then went up, frowning.
When Nick got to the door of his room, his sixth sense was
working overtime. Henri's behavior had set it off, and he re-
alized that someone was in his room. He didn't draw his gun,
but he kept his guard up as he slipped the key into the lock
and opened the door.
"l don't believe it, " he said.
"Believe it," Stephanie Clark said from her seat on his
He closed the door behind him and threw his key down on
a table.
"Stephanie, what are you doing here?"
"Just keeping up with you. "
Yeah, he thought, but how? Something was wrong here.
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She was an amateur and she was with him every step of the
way.
"The DIA computer again?" he asked.
"Trade secret," she said.
He took off his jacket and loosened his tie before telling
her, "This isn't doing you any good, you know. You may be
following me, but I'm not looking for your father's killer. "
"That's all right," she said. "He'll find you."
"If he doesn't find you first. " He pulled a chair over so
that he could sit near her without sitting next to her on the
bed. "Stephanie, go home before you get hurt,"
"You think I'm just an amateur, right?"
"Right."
She grinned at him and said, "I haven't done too badly so
far, have l?"
No, she hadn't, at that. And she couldn't have used the
DIA computer in Washington this time, either.
"If you want me to leave, I will," she said, "but I'll be
around Nick.
s 'I didn't say I wanted you to leave," he assured her.
"You don't?"
"No. Maybe you're right. Maybe we will accomplish
more working together. "
"Do you mean it?" she asked excitedly.
"Yes, I mean it," he told her. He didn't tell her that he
wanted her to stay so he could keep an eye on her. "I'll call
downstairs and see if we can get you a room. "
' 'Can't I stay here?" she asked.
' 'No, you can't," he said. He dialed the desk and spoke to
Henri, asking him if there was a room available.
g 'I am sorry, M'sieur Stuart, but there are no rooms avail-
able this evening. "
"And in the morning?"
s 'l am sure I will have one in the morning, m'sieur," he
replied.
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"All right," he said. "Reserve one for my .
guest,
will you?"
"Of course, m'sieur," Henri said, ' 'and have a very
pleasant night. "
He could see in his mind's eye Henri's grin, and he said,
"Thank you, Henri."
"I will send the young lady's baggage up to your room. ' '
Nick hesitated, threw a glance at Stephanie, and then said,
"You do that. "
He hung up and turned to Stephanie.
"How did you get the clerk to let you in?"
"It wasn't all that difficult," she said. "I intimated that
friends, and he didn't seem surprised. He
we were
agreed very willingly to jet me in to wait for you."
Nick seemed to remember having Henri allow a lady into
his room once or twice before, and he wasn't surprised that
the "romantic" assistant manager had given in to Stephanie
so easily. She was, after all, a very lovely young lady.
And this was France.
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TEN
"You look like a burglar," she said later, after he had
changed his clothes. He was now wearing a dark turtleneck
sweater and dark pants, and over it, he put a dark, nylon
windbreaker. you had white socks on, you'd really look
funny."
"I'll bet, " he said. He took out Wilhelmina, checked her,
and then slid her back into his holster. He watched Stephanie
and saw that the gun made her nervous.
"You don't like guns?"
"Is that part of the deal?" she asked. "I have to like
"No, you don't have to like guns," he told her, "but it
might be good for you if you knew how to use one. 'S
"I'll leave that to you," she said. "So, are you going to
' 'Tell you what?"
"Where you're going?"
"Out. "
"We're not married, you know," she said.
"What's that mean?"
"That's the kind of answer a husband gives a wife when
he's going to see another woman. "
"Is that so?" he asked. "Is that from personal ex-
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NICK CARTER
"Don't avoid the issue/' she said. "Are you?"
"Am I what?"
"Going to see another woman?"
"Are we married?"
"Then I don't have to tell you, do l?" he said, heading for
the door. "I'll be back soon. Keep the door locked. "
"Bring back something to eat, " she called after him. He
was going to tell her to call room service, but then he'd just
told her to keep the door locked.
"Okay."
"Bring french fries!" she called as he went out the door.
As he walked through the small lobby, he saw Henri
grinning at him and waved back. Outside, he flagged a cab
and had it take him to the home of Pietr LaMouche.
"Right here," he said when they were a block away.
"Zis eez not—" the driver started in temble English, but
Nick waved him off.
"This is good enough," he said, paying him and getting
out. He waited for the cab to drive away, then made his way
to the LaMouche house on foot.
He had no doubt that every time he went to the house and
rang the bell looking for Piere LaMouche, his daughter,
Marie, would tell him that her father wasn't at home. That
meant that he had to get into the house and to LaMouche
without ringing the bell.
Nick circled around to the back of the house and used his
lock picks on the back door. He found himself in a dark hall-
way, and up ahead bright light was coming from a room.
Moving quietly. he worked his way down the hall toward
the lighted doorway.
He could hear voices coming from the room. but couldn't
make out what they were saying. They were talking too low
and too quickly in French.
Since he had no desire to frighten anyone, when he
reached the doorway, he made some noise so that the occu-
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pants of the room would hear him. That was less frightening,
he thought, then his simply appearing.
As it was; Marie LaMouche turned to face him with a
gasp, while the other person in the room merely stared wide-
eyed at his sudden appearance.
The other person was an elderly man.
"Pierre LaMouche?" he asked, addressing himself to the
man.
"Sacre bleu!" the girl exclaimed when she recognized
him. "It is you."
"It's me," he agreed
"Papa, this is the man I told you about, who came to the
door asking for you. "
The old man nodded to her, then looked at Nick and
asked, "Have you come to rob us?"
"You know why I'm here, Mr. LaMouche," Nick said.
"I think you tX)th know, which is why your daughter lied to
me today."
"I did not-—
"Marie," her father said in a tired voice. She looked at
the oid man and then lapsed into silence.
' 'Tell me what you want?" the man asked Nick.
"Anton Lector. "
s 'I do not know the name,"
"You know the name," Nick said, "and the man as
well. "
"I tell you I do not—" the man started to and as he
did, Nick reached into his pocket and approached him. The
old man flinched and his daughter gasped, as if they ex-
Nick to produce a gun, but Nick dropped a folded en-
velope into his lap and then stepped back.
'S What is this?"
"It's a letter that you mailed to Dr. Lector. Apparently he
left England tEfore the letter arived. I found it in his mail-
box and it led me here. "
LaMouche unfolded the letter just enough to verify its au-
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NICK CARTER
thenticity, then put it aside.
' 'Who are you?"
g 'I'm someone who has a delivery to make," Nick said.
"I'm supposed to give something to Dr. Lector, but he got
frightened and ran. I can't stop until I find him and give him
what I have. 's
"A bullet?" Marie asked sarcastically.
"No, not a bullet," he said.
"Then what?"
"Marie," her father said again, more forcefully.
"I can't say what," Nick said to LaMouche. "M'sieur
LaMouche, you know what kind of work Dr. Lector does. ' '
s 'No, I do not," the old man said. "It is secret, that much
I do know."
"Then believe me when I tell you that what I have for him
is vital to his work. I must give it to him."
"If it is so vital, why is he running from you?" Marie
LaMouche asked.
Nick looked at her father, who merely shrugged his shoul-
ders as if to indicate that he had tried.
•Miss LaMouche, it's not me he's running from, I can as-
sure you of that. "
"Who then?"
Nick decided to take the time to elaborate, if it would keep
her quiet. Without her, he might have had the old man con-
vinced already.
"I have two assignments, Miss LaMouche," he said.
"One, to find Dr. Lector, and two, to kill a man." He saw
her eyes blaze briefly when he said that. "The man he is run-
ning from is the man I must kill, but I cannot do that until I
find the do
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ctor and make my delivery. " He turned to her fa-
ther and said, "Please, I need your help. Is he here?"
The old man looked at his daughter, who shook her head,
but he made his own decision.
"No, he is not here."
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"But he did come here. "
' 'Father—
53
"Marie, please!" her father snapped. To Nick he said,
"Yes, he did come here, but he left two days ago. "
"Why?' s
"He was afraid that he had stayed too long," LaMouche
said.
"He thought someone was hanging around the house,"
Marie said. "He was very nervous. s'
"Was someone hanging around the house?"
"We did not see anyone," LaMouche said. "Anton is my
friend, but just because he thought he saw someone does not
mean that someone was there. "
"l understand," Nick said. Lector might have been so
scared, he was seeing bogymen under the bed.
"Did he say where he was going from here?" he asked.
"Papa!" Marie said sharply. "You trust too easily."
LaMouche looked at his daughter, and then back at Nick.
"Perhaps my daughter is right," LaMouche said, "but,
nevertheless, I have told you all I know."
"You don't know where he went?"
s 'I do not. Anton felt safer not telling me. "
"May I see the room in which he was staying?"
"Of course," the old man said. "My daughter will show
it to you. "
"Thank you, M'sieur," Nick said.
"Follow me," Marie LaMouche said and, stiffbacked,
walked from the room as if she didn't care whether he fol-
lowed her or not.
He followed her up a flight of carpeted steps to the second
floor, where she took him to a small, modestly furnished
bedroom.
"The guest room," she said, opening the door and
stepping aside.
"Did he unpack while he was here?" he asked.
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"I did not check his drawers," she said.
He made one round of the room, opening drawers and
closet doors, but nothing was left—-if anything had been in
them at all.
"Find anything?" she asked.
"Not yet," he said. He stood in the center of the room,
looking around for something he might have missed.
And then he spotted it.
He walked to the writing desk across the room and bent
over to inspect the trash bucket.
"What do you expect to find in there?" she asked.
"Not much," he said, sticking his hand in, "but I'll take
what I can get."
There was a five-by-seven writing pad on the desk top*
and in the garbage was a number of crumpled pieces of pa-
per. He took the pieces from the bucket and stuffed them into
his pockets, and then he picked up the pad from the desk.
"May I take this?" he asked.
"If you need paper that badly."
He took the pad and walked over to her.
"Why are you so hostile?" he asked her.
"Since you ask, I will tell you," she said. "l am hostile
toward anyone who endangers my father's life. I did not
want Dr. Lector here, and I do not want you here.
"That's fair enough," he said. "I'm leaving,"
They went back downstairs where Pierre LaMouche was
sitting just where they had left him. Nick wouldn't have been
surprised if the old man had not even blinked an eye.
"Thank you, M'sieur LaMouche," he said.
"You find Anton safely, m'sieur," the man said.
"I'll do my best."
Marie LaMouche walked to her father's side and put her
hands on his shoulders protectively.
Not one to get careless, no matter what the situation, Nick
backed out of the room and down the hall and let himself out
the back door.
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Two blocks from the house, Nick flagged a cab and gave
him the address of the hotel. They hadn't gone a mile when
he remembered that Stephanie had asked for something to
eat. French fries, she had said. Where the hell was he sup-
posed to find french fries in Paris?
And then he saw something he couldn't believe: golden
arches.
"Right there," he said to the cab driver, tapping him on
the shoulder and then pointing.
When the cab pulled up in front of the place, Nick stared at
it for a while, then said, "I'll be damned," and went in and
got Stephanie what she wanted.
When he walked into the lobby carrying the bag with the
food in it, it was the first time he had ever seen Henri without
that smile—or some kind of a smile—on his face.
"M'sieur!" Henri said in horror.
"It's not for me, Henri," he assured the man. "It's for my
guest. You know how American women are."
"Oui," Henri said, giving Nick a world-weary look.
"Why don't you just send your specialty up to my room
for me while I bring her this.
"Oui," he said again. "As you wish."
When he unlocked the door to his room and entered,
Stephanie was sitting cross-legged on the bed wearing a
terry-cloth robe.
"You're going to get me kicked out of this hotel," he said
to her accusingly.
He held up the bag for her to see and she bounded off the
bed shouting, "McDonald's!"
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ELEVEN
Henri brought Nick his food about twenty minutes later
and cast a weary glance at Stephanie as she was finishing off
her third bag of french fries.
"What's eating him?" she asked Nick when the man had
left.
"It's not what's eating him," Nick said, inspecting his
own food, s Sit's what you're eating."
"He doesn't like french fries?"
"l don't know a Frenchman who does. "
"What are you eating?"
Nick sat down at the tray bearing his dinner, and said,
"Blanquette de veau."
"What's that in English?" she asked.
"Delicious, he answered.
She came over and looked at it, and then said, "It looks
like veal. "
"That's what it is," he said. "Veal stew."
"Can I taste it?"
"Pull up a chair, " he invited. There was a second plate on
the table, and he put a small portion on it and gave it to her.
She put a small piece into her mouth and said, "0h, it's
delicious!"
"I'll tell Henri you said that," Nick said. "It just might
redeem us.
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NICK CARTER
As if to leave little or no doubt of her sincerity, Stephanie
went on to eat half of Nick's dinner and drink half of the bot-
tle of wine that Henri had included.
"That was yummy," she said, smiling dreamily.
"Are you drunk?" he asked her.
"Heavens, no," she said. "It takes more than a halfa bot-
tle of wine to make me drunk. ' ' Then she added, s 'I am little
snookered, though. "
"I thought so. I think you better go to bed."
S 'Ooh, Mr. Carter, is that an invitation?"
"It's a suggestion, Miss Clark, and nothing more,"
"Pooh," she said, pouting.
"Off with you. "
She got up and walked to the bed, and after turning it
down, she asked, "Where are you going to sleep?"
"I'll put a couple of chairs together or something," he
said. "Don't worry me."
' *Oh, but I do," she said, removing her robe to reveal a
flannel nightgown that extended to her ankles. "I'm putting
you out of your bed. "
Her nipples were poking little hills in the front of her
nightgown as she got into bed.
"You've been putting me out ever since I met you,
Stephanie," he said. "Why should it bother you now?"
"Don't mean," she said, pouting again.
"I wouldn't dream of it," he assured her. He got up and
wheeled the tray out into the hall, leaving it there to be pick-
ed up. When he turned around and shut the dCX)r, he heard
Stephanie's even breathing and knew she had fallen asleep.
Convinced that she wasn't shamming, he went to her
purse and started looking through it. He didn't know what he
was looking for, but he was hoping to find something that
would explain her to him. He found the usual items one finds
in a woman's handbag, plus her DIA identifications her
ticket and baggage stubs for her flights to England and
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France .
. and a gun, a little .25 caliber automatic, fully
loaded and in need of a cleaning.
He put everything but the gun back, then pulled out the
pad and paper he had taken from the LaMouche home.
First he unraveled the paEErs he'd gotten from the trash
can and smcx)thed them out as best he could. It appeared that
Anton Lector was one of those people who liked to doodle
while he was thinking.
Each piece of paper had random words and drawings on
them. Nick was sure that a psychiatrist would probably be
able to tell a lot from them, but he wasn't a shrink and they
didn't mean anything to him at all, except maybe to indicate
how frightened the doctor was of being killed. Twice he had
drawn stick figures of men, with one killing the other.
Nick put the discarded pieces of paper aside and turned his
attention to the pad. Actually, all he was interested in was
the top sheet. He held it up to the light to see if there were any
impressions on it, but the imprints that were there were all
jumbled. Apparently, Lector was heavy-handed, and the im-
pressions left were from more than one page. Tracing over
them with a lead IEnciI wouldn't tell him a thing.
Tossing the pad down, he figured that it had been too
much to ask for anyway.
He sat down and began to clean Stephanie's .25 for her.
Not that he her to use it, but if she did, it would be
better if it didn't explode in her hand.
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TWELVE
In the morning, Nick woke with a stiff back from the two
hairs he'd slept on. He called down and had breakfast sent
up to the room, but didn't wake Stephanie until it arrived.
"Up and at 'em, Mary Sunshine," he said, slapping her
n her blanketed behind.
"What?" she yelled, snapping her head up and
around wide-eyed.
"Hey, take it easy," Nick said.
She looked around for a few more seconds, obviously dis-
oriented, and then looked at him and seemed to recognize
him.
"Oh, Nick," she said. She pushed herself up and twisted
into a seated position beneath the blankets. s 'I forgot where I
was for a few moments. s'
"How do you feel?"
"Okay," she said, "aside from a little headache."
"That's from half a bottle of wine. "
"Did I really drink half a bottle of wine?" she asked.
"Enough to put you to sleep."
"l must have been tired for it to affect me that much.
"Enough for you to invite me into bed with you. "
"I did that?"
"You did," he said. "Breakfast is here. You want to eat
and then clean up, or—
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"I'll eat," she said, bounding off the bed. Her gown was
bunched up around her waist, and he was treated to the sight
of her pale, flashing thighs as she rushed to the breakfast
tray.
"Did you order enough?" she asked.
"l hope so," he said, eyeing her dubiously.
He had ordered two continental breakfasts, but she ended
up eating half of his, as well.
"So what did you do after I, uh, went to sleep?"
"l did some reading," he said truthfully.
"Anything interesting?"
s 'l don't know for sure," he said. couldn't really make
heads or tails of it. "
' 'I've read books like that, She stood up and said,
"I'm going to take a shower. What's on our agenda for
"Getting you your own room is first," he said. "After
that, I'm afraid I'm lost."
She frowned and said, "I can't tell if you're kidding or
what. "
'Don't worry about it," he advised her, "just go and take
your shower. ' '
While she was in the shower, he disposed of the breakfast
tray by putting it in the hall, then sat down again with the
pieces of paper he had taken from the LaMouche house.
They still didn't tell him anything and he left them atop the
small writing desk next to the door.
When Stephanie came out with one towel around her head
and another covering her vital parts, she said, "It's all
yours. "
Seeing the steam that was trailing out of the room behind
her, he said, "Maybe I should wait until the smoke clears. "
She looked behind her, then laughed and said, "I like to
take hot showers. "
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' 'I'll bet," he said. What flesh he could see was all rosy
and glowing from the hot water, and he couldn't help but
wonder about the parts he couldn't see. "When I come out,
I'll check with Henri about your room. "
"Why?" she said. "I don't mind sharing yours, and
you've been a perfect gentleman. "
"Yeah, well, you can't count on that indefinitely," he
said, and closed the bathroom door behind him.
When Nick came out of the bathroom with a towel
wrapped around his waist, Stephanie was waiting for him—
in bed.
"What's this?" he asked. "Going back to bed?"
' 'Not just me," she said, "and this time I haven't drunk
half a bottle of wine. "
"Stephanie—v
"Come on, Nick," she said. "I'm only trying to save us
the cost of an extra room. I mean, if we're working together,
we're sharing the cost, right?"
"Right," he said warily.
"Then come here," she said. The blanket was rolled
down to the foot of the bed, but she still had the sheet over
her, molding itself tightly to her full breasts so that the nip-
ples were clearly outlined. He felt himself rising beneath the
towel as he approached the bed.
She the front of the towel as he grasped the sheet
and threw it back.
Her normally pale skin still had a rosy hue from the tem-
perature of her shower, but her nipples were standing up as if
they had been splashed with cold water. He palmed one and
then the other as she freed the towel and allowed it to fall to
his ankles.
"Come on, Nick," she said, grasping him firmly in her
hand. "I'm not a virgin and I'm not going to break."
She didn't break, either. She was firm and strong as she
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clasped him to her with her arrns and thighs, and she raked
his back while he drove into her. When they both achieved a
simultaneous orgasm, she squeezed him to her even tighter,
milking him dry, and then she relaxed him and said,
"See, I told you I wouldn't break."
He kissed her and her mouth opened wide beneath his.
"l never thought you would, Stephanie," he said, moving
off of her to lie beside her. "Is there something else I can call
you other than Stephanie?"
"Don't you like my name?"
"It's fine. It's just a little long, especially for moments
like this."
"I don't have another name," she told him, "unless you
want to call me Steffie. I haven't been called that since I was
a kid."
' 'I guess I'll stick with Stephanie," he said.
"Make up your own nickname for me," she proposed,
snuggling up close to him.
"I'll think about it," he said, getting out of bed.
S S Where are you going?"
' 'To see about your room. "
"But I thought—
"Sorry, kid, he said, picking up the phone. s 'I'd love to
have you around, but it would be too dangerous for you. "
She frowned and was about to say something else when he
spoke into the phone.
"Henri, it's Mr. Stuart."
"Ah, m'sieur. How did you enjoy your, eh, evening?"
"It was fine, Henri.
"Dinner, and—i'
"Dinner and breakfast were excellent, as always. "
SSAh, merci, m'sieur!"
"Henri, do you have that room ready for my friend yet?"
"It is being cleaned even as we speak, m'sieur."
"You'll need her name for your register," Nick said.
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"It's Williams, K. Williams."
65
"Kay?" Henri asked. "That is her first name?"
"That's her initial," Nick said. "Her name is Kit, K-I-T,
Williams.
' 'A strange name," Henri said. "Very American, no?"
'S Very American, yes," Nick agreed. "Call my room
when it's ready, Henri, "
"As you wish, m'sieur."
' 'Kit9" Stephanie asked him as he hung up.
"Kid, Kit, it's all the same. Just a name to use,' €
"And a name for you to call me," she said. She pulled on
her robe and said, ' 'I'm going into the bathroom to get
dressed. LA me know when the room is ready, will you?"
"Sure. "
He watched her as she walked into the bathroom and shut
the door behind her.
She'd good in bed, maybe t(X) good. And her attitude
had changed, too, from the time he'd picked up the phone to
the time he'd hung up.
It was a troublesome thought, but maybe she wasn't really
the amateur she made herself out to be.
Maybe she wasn't even who she made herself out to be;
but if that was the case, then who was she?
"Your room is ready," he told her when she came out of
the bathroom, fresh, well-groomed, and lovely.
"Thanks for the use of yours," she replied, and then with
a pointed added, s sand your bed."
"Anytime. "
' 'Sure," she said, gathering up her things.
"It's right down the hall," he said. don't know how
Henri worked that out, but he did. "
S SHe's a Frenchman," she said, as if that explained it
away.
Nick was fiddling with the pieces of paper on the writing
fifi
CARTER
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desk, and she said, "I was looking at those before. "
"When you were in the shower. What do they mean?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," he said. "What
did they mean to you?"
"Not much," she said, "except to remind me of how
much I enjoy skiing in Switzerland. "i
"Why Switzerland?" he asked.
"This picture here," she said, turning over another sheet.
"This chalet is one of the most famous in Switzerland—if
you're a skier. I recognize it because I've skied there
before. "
"I see," Nick said.
"Would you like to help me to my room?" she asked,
breaking into his thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, sure, I'll carry your bag, lady," he said, mak-
ing himself sound like a bellboy. "You better be ready to tip
well, though. "
"l already tipped you," she reminded him, looking at the
bed. s did you forget?"
"No," he said, couldn't forget that."
' 'Why are you holding on to that particular drawing?" she
asked, as he began to stuff it in his pocket.
"This is the one that's going to tell us where to go next,"
he said.
"Switzerland?"
"You'll find out," he said, picking up her bag. "Come
on, let's get you settled in your room. "
They walked down the hall to a room where the door had
tEen left ajar.
"The key should on the table next to the bed, " he said
as they entered.
"It's here," she verified. "Nick, how much longer will
we be staying?"
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"I've got some things to do," he said, "and then we
should be out of here, probably by tomorrow."
"And where are we going next?"
He grinned at her and said, "Skiing."
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THIRTEEN
Nick left Stephanie in her room and went back to his own.
He put his suitcase on the bed, opened it, and pried out the
false bottom. Using tools and materials secreted there, he
turned the ru)mss television into a communications device.
It was just one of the ways in which an AXE agent could get
in contact with Washington without using conventional
means, such as the telephone.
When the TV was transformed, he made contacts and in a
few moments he was looking at the face of his boss, David
Hawk.
S'N3, I've been waiting for you to get in touch. What hap-
pened in London? We had reports that you'd disappeared
from there without remrting to anyone. s'
"I had to follow a lead," Nick answered. "I'm in Paris."
s Paris
"This is where Lector's trail led me. "
see. Why haven't you contacted our Ixople there?"
"I'm playing this alone for a while, sir. The contact I had
in London was somewhat less than comlEtent."
"l see," Hawk said again. "Are you in any danger?"
' 'That remains to be seen," Nick said. many people
seem to know where I am. "
Nick told Hawk about the attempt on his life while he was
checking out Lector's last known address.
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"Do you think it was our man?" Hawk asked.
"I didn't ask him, sir, but it's possible. I had the Sround
peg' on me at the time and I didn't want to risk having it fall
into his hands. "
"A wise decision. "
"Thank you, sir. Uh, sir, before I left Washington, I told
you about Howard Clark's daughter approaching me. .
"Yes, yes, what about her?"
"She followed me to London and then here to Paris. "
"Without your knowledge?' '
"She's getting information from somewhere," Nick said.
"She said she found rne in London using the DIA com-
puter."
' 'And Paris?"
" 'Sources,' she said. Could you check with the DIA and
find out just what the hell I'm doing in their computer?"
"l will look into it," Hawk said. "Will you be in Paris for
the next few days?"
Nick fingered the drawing in his pocket and said, 'SNO,
sir. I have reason to trlieve that Lector might have gone to
Switzerland. ' '
"Was he in Paris at all?"
"Yes, staying with a friend, but he left several days ago. "
"What makes you think he's in Switærland?"
"Something he left behind," Nick said, without
elaborating on what it was. "And by the way, I think it
would be a good idea to find out whether Lector has any
friends or relatives living there, someone he might go to. "
"I'll work on it, N3."
*'1911 check in with you once I'm there. "
"When will you be leaving Paris?"
"Immediately, sir. There's no reason for me to stay
around here any longer. "
"And Miss Clark"'
'*I'm taking her along, so I can keep an eye on her. "
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"l assume you know what you're doing, N3," Hawk
said, "so I won't presume to give you my opinion on that.
I'll try and have your information for you by the time you get
back to me."
"Thank you, sir."
Hawk broke contact without further word, and Nick dis-
mantled his communications device and returned it to the
false tX)ttom in his suitcase. Next he picked up the phone and
called the desk.
"Henri, this is Mr. Stuart. "
"Prepare my bill, I'll be checking out in a few minutes. "
"And the young lady?"
' 'Yes, her, t(X). We'll pay you for the other room."
' 'No need for that, m'sieur," Henri assured him. '*Your
bili will be ready when you come down. "
' 'Thank you."
He hung up and got himself ready to leave. He debated
over the wisdom of taking Stephanie along now that he was
no longer sure of her status, but it still made sense to him to
have her where he could watch her.
Maybe he'd even let her share a room with him in
Switzerland.
He dialed her room and when she answered, he said,
'SHave you unpacked yet?"
' 'I haven't had time."
"Good, don't," he told her. "We're leaving. Be ready in
five minutes."
"Itm ready now," she said. "But why the change in
"I'm an impulsive kind of guy," he said, and hung up.
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FOURTEEN
They were just able to catch an evening flight to Geneva
via Swissair, but they had to go on standby.
On the plane Stephanie asked, "Do you think we'll get a
chance to get some skiing in?"
"Hopefully," he answered. "That would mean that this
whole business was wrapped up.
"Only if we catch my father's murderer," she added,
very seriously.
'Steph—"
"I know, I know, that's not your job,"
"Besides that, suppose he's the one who catches us?"
Nick proposed.
"I have confidence in you," she said. "If only half of
what my father said about you is true, we'll come out on
top. "
"I appreciate your confidence," he remarked.
The stewardess came by to ask if they wanted drinks. Nick
had a bourbon, and Stephanie passed.
At the airport they recovered their bags, went through cus-
toms and then outside to grab a cab.
"Why didn't they find your gun?" she asked.
' 'My suitcase has a false bottom and a special lining that
keeps the X-rays from picking it up," he explained.
"Amazing. When your career js over, you could start a
new one as a hijacker. "
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It didn't matter to Nick what hotel they went to, so he vir-
tually left it up to the driver. He just wanted to get into his
room and make contact with Hawk.
"God, I'm tired," Stephanie said as they entered the lob-
by of the hotel.
' 'Go right to bed when you get to your room, and I'll call
you in the morning."
She looked at Nick, but said nothing as he indicated that
they would each have their own room. He confirmed it when
he asked the clerk to give them connecting rooms. He signed
the register Kitty Wills and Nick French.
As the opened the door to Stephanie's room and
carried her luggage in, she giggled.
"What's so funny?" Nick asked.
"Miss Kitty," she said, giggling again.
' 'Gunsmoke," she said, "you know, Marshal Dillon,
Miss Kitty?" When Nick didn't reply, she said, "Sorry, but
I was a television child. "
Nick had never had time for television. It was a waste for
him to sit in front of a TV, unless Hawk's face was on it.
The bellboy came over to Stephanie and handed her the
key and prepared to show Nick his room.
"Get some sleep," Nick said. s *I'll call you in the mom-
ing for breakfast. "
Looking disappointed, she nodded and said, "All right.
Good night. "
' 'Good night. "
Nick allowed the bellboy to show him all of the room's
features, then tipped him and bade him good night. Alone in
the room he debated contacting Hawk now, but he decided to
wait until late morning, giving his boss time to come up with
the information he had requested,
Nick put his suitcase in a comer, having no intention of
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unpacking. The way things were going, they could be there
for five minutes or five days.
He walked to the connecting door and listened for a few
moments. When he could discern no sound or movement, he
tried the knob and found the door locked. He then took a
shower, dried off, and lay down on the bed naked with the
light on. With his hands cradled behind his head, he thought
everything that had happened over the past few days.
Having Stephanie with him saved him the problem of won-
dering what she was up to, or when she'd pop up. He was
still bothered by the fact that she had shown up to begin with,
but maybe Hawk would be able to clear that up for him and
free his mind for what lay ahead.
Then there was the attempt on his life back in London—
God, two countries ago! Was it the courier killer? It was t(X)
bad that Nick had not been in a position to try and find that
out at the time, but the 'round peg' in his mx•ket had to take
precedence over everything else.
He pulled his jacket over to him and drew the silver tube
from the inner breast pocket. Struck again by its resemblance
to a cigar tube, he decided to check some smoke shops in the
morning and see if he could buy five or six that looked the
same. Not a television watcher, Nick had read Poe's Pur-
loined Letter and thought he'd apply the idea here.
Replacing the tube in his jacket, he hung it on the bedpost,
then retrieved Wilhelmina from his suitcase and tucked her
away under his pillow for the night.
' 'Sleep tight," he told her, and he firmly hoped that she—
and he—would.
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FIFTEEN
In the morning Nick called Stephanie and asked her to
meet him in the hotel dining room for breakfast. She agreed
to meet him in a half hour.
Nick went down ahead of her to see if there was a smoke
shop or some such shop where he could check out the cigars.
When he didn't find one, he asked the bell captain if there
was a store nearby where he could buy them. The man gave
him directions to a place two blocks away,
He traveled the two blocks, very conscious of his back,
but detected no tail. It would have surprised him considera-
bly if he had, since he'd had no idea himself that he was go,
ing to be in Switzerland that morning until virtually hours
earlier, in Paris.
He found the shop he wanted, and sure enough, they had
expensive cigars individually encased in silver tubes exactly
like the one he now carried in his pocket. He bought five of
them and tucked them into the same pocket with his own.
Except for a minute difference in length, they were a perfect
match.
He walked back to the hotel and went into the dining
room, but Stephanie had not yet come downstairs. He got
them a table and ordered coffee while he waited for her to
arrive.
Forty-five minutes after he had called her room, Stephanie
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walked into the dining room, looking fresh and wide awake.
"You look wonderful," he told her honestly.
S S Thank you," she said. "That's the only way a woman
can get away with being late all the time, if she puts the time
to good use. "
"You'll get no complaints from me," he said.
They checked the menu and ordered their breakfasts.
Stephanie's was twice the size of Nick's.
"How can you eat that much and not put on any weight?' '
he asked.
She shrugged and said, "It's just something that I'm able
to do."
"It's not going to make you many friends. "
"Maybe not, but I enjoy eating," she said. "What are our
plans for today?"
"Why don't you go and do some shopping?"
"Shopping?" she said. "That's not what I came here
for. "
"l know, but we can't do much else until I get some infor-
mation that I need. "
"Why not tell me? Maybe my sources can get it for you
faster," she suggested.
"Will you tell me who or what your sources are?" he
asked. "Are they DIA sources?"
"Not necessarily. 'Y
"All right, look," he said, "why don't you just go and do
some shopping, or whatever you want to do, and meet me
back here for lunch at, say, one o'clock. "
"You're not going to run out on me. are you?" she asked
him.
"Of course not. "
"I mean, you did it in London; you could very well do it
here as well," she reminded him.
"We weren't partners then, right?"
"Right, but I don't really feel like an equal partner," she
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complained. "There are things you're keeping from me. "
"Oh0" he replied. "And there's nothing that you're
keeping from me, I suppse?"
She frowned a moment and then said, s 'Why don't we
meet back here for lunch at, say, one o'clock?"
'S Wonderful idea!"
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SIXTEEN
After breakfast, Stephanie left the hotel, but that was no
guarantee that she wouldn't turn right around and come back
again and go to her room. Nick went up to his room, picked
the lock on the connecting door, and left it ajar. After that, he
went about transforming the TV, and in moments he was
staring at Hawk's face in living color.
'SN3."
"Sir, did you get that information I asked you for?"
"On Dr. Lector, yes. He has two friends in Switzerland.
One lives in Geneva and one just outside. You'll have to
check both. "
"Naturally."
Hawk threw Nick a then went on. He gave the
addresses of both friends and the correct spellings of their
names.
' 'What about the information on the DIA?'S
"That is a little more difficult. The DIA computers are not
open to us. "
s 'I didn't think you'd get information out of them willing-
ly, but wasn't there some way our machines could tap into
"We're still working on it."
"But if a mere file clerk can do it, why can't AXE?"
' 'We are working on it, N3."
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82
"I realize that. "
"Concentrate on the task at hand then. "
"Yes, sir, I will."
"Then get on with it. Find Dr. Lector and make your de-
livery. After you've done that, we can worry about why the
DIA computer was able to Icx.•ate you. "
"Yes, sir. Is there anything else you can tell me'? Have
there been any leads on the doctor's whereatx)uts?"
"None. Your guess is as good as ours."
"Well, that's what I'm working on, sir. A guess . . . All
right, I'll keep in touch.
"Do that," Hawk said, and he broke the connection.
Nick disassembled his communications device and re-
placed it in his suitcase, then checked Stephanie's room and
found it still empty. He closed and relocked the connecting
door, and then left his room.
A guess, that's what it was all right. Just because a man
drew a picture of a chalet that reminded a young girl of a
place she'd been to before did not necessarily mean he was
planning a trip to Switzerland, although Stephanie did say
the chalet was one of Switzerland's most famous. But
Stephanie herself was still a question mark in his mind. For
all Nick knew, Lector could have been in Vail, Colorado, or
even Bear Mountain, New York! Stills there was the fact that
Lector had two close friends here in Switzerland.
The obvious one to check first would be the one who lived
right there in the city. He'd have to rent a car for the other.
He caught a cab in front of the hotel and gave him the ad-
dress Hawk had given him.
After a few miles, Nick noticed that the address was in the
oldest section of the city, There were no new structures here,
just old one-story and two-story homes, and the cab now
pulled up in front of one.
The man he was looking for was Carl Kaufman, and the
man's name was right on the door of the two-story house he
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was standing in front of. Nick ascended the steps and rang
the tx:ll. He waited a few moments, but there was no answer.
He rang again, and when there was still no answer, he took
out his lock picks and let himself in. With a last look at the
empty street, Nick pushed the door in and entered.
After closing the door behind him, he stood stock still,
and then withdrew Wilhelmina from her holster. The tension
that was in the area was almost physical, especially to a man
with Nick Carter's instincts.
He was standing in a small foyer with a stairway ahead of
him and rooms to the right and left. Although it was daylight
outside, inside it was dim, almost dark, and it was as quiet as
death.
Which was what he was afraid of.
Obviously, someone had gotten there ahead of him, un-
less his instincts were totally off the track this time, which
was not likely,
Nick stayed where he was and kept his ears wide lis-
tening for telltale footsteps or creaking but if
there was someone else in the house with him, that rkrson
was a professional.
But what was that doing there? And how had he
known that Nick was coming there? He himself hadn't
known until only moments ago.
This was another case of someone knowing his moves—
perhaps even before he did, this time.
No time to think about it now; he'd kick it around later.
Right now he was in a very dangerous situation, and
the thing to do was to turn around and walk right out again;
but as long as there was a chance that he would find Carl
Kaufman, or even Anton Lector himself, he had to stay and
see this through.
In addition to the rooms on his right and left, there seemed
to be a room further down at the end of the hall and past the
staircase; it was probably the kitchen. Upstairs had to be the
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bedroom or bedrooms. Nick had to make a decision now,
and that was which way to go. Check the rooms out down
here, or go right up the steps to the second floor? In any one
of those rooms there could have been someone lying in wait
for him, whether it be the courier killer or not.
Nick opted for the upstairs. If Lector was or had been
there, he would have been staying in a guest room of some
sort, and that would have been upstairs.
Moving slowly, he started forward, wary of the two
on either side of him, as he approached the stairs. When he
reached them, he started up, moving sideways so that he
could keep his eye on upstairs as well as downstairs.
Nick used his eyes and ears as he ascended the steps, and
when he reached the top, he found a hallway that extended to
his left. On his right was an door. When he looked in-
side, he found a small bathroom in which no one would be
able to hide.
Moving to his left, with his gun ready, he kept his back
against the wall and kept an eye on the stairs he had just
walked up.
As Nick went further down the hall, he became aware of
an odor in the air, an odor he had encountered before and was
able to identify.
The smell of blood.
The odor was coming from the first room he reached, and
he moved into the room sideways, keeping his gun extended
ahead of him. He saw the body from the doorway, but re-
mained where he was rather than rushing in. He executed
two quick steps, which brought him into the room, then
swung the door closed in case there was someone behind it.
When he saw that there wasn't, he closed the door all the
way so that he'd have some kind of advance warning if
someone wanted to come in after him.
Before looking at the dead man, he went over to the closet
and pulled it open. It was empty. Convinced that no one else
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was in the he finally moved to the body.
85
There were no pictures available of Anton Lector, Hit
Nick had been given a full description of the d«tor, and the
man on the with his throat cut was rn Lector. He there-
fore had to be the doctor's friend, Carl Kaufman.
Kaufman's face a frozzn mask of terror, and his eyes,
though orrj, were glazed over. Why had he been killed,
Nick wondered. Coincidence wag wt of the question; things
had gone much try; far to even consider that. But what was
the point of killing this man? And the fact that he was dead
did have to mean that Lector had even been there. That
waz still to be checked out, hopfully in the next few rm-
Nick closed the dead rnan's eyes and rose to his feet, still
holding his gun ready. He moved to the door and snapped it
opn. He rushed into the hail, going down to one knee,
swinging his gun to cover FX)th ends. Satisfied that no one
was stalking him on the second f)cnr, he moved down to the
end of hall to check out the remaining
Using the sarne care he had exhibited since entering the
house, he moved into the other room and checked behind the
d«jr k*fore closing it tight. That done, he rmved to the
single closet in the room and satisfied himself that it was
cmmy. Feeling fairly secure, he rmved amut the rtDrn, ex-
amining it in tyr same manner he had examined the guest
rc»rn in the LaMouche house. nere was no writing desk in
this room, but there was a trash bucket, and he checked that
as well. When he was done, he had found no indication that
Anton Lector had ever been there, which made the death of
Carl Kaufman even more puzzling.
ii Lector wasn't there now and had never been there, why
had Kaufman been killed? Where was the purpose in that?
Nick walked to the window and looked at the empty
street. He hadn't heard a door ovzn, but suddenly there was a
man below him walking away from the house. He had to
hfi
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NICK CARTER
have come from inside the house.
Nick opened the window and tried to do it quietly, but it
was old, and as he pushed it up, it made a loud, squeaking
sound, made even louder by the fact that the street was quiet.
The man on the ground looked up, saw Nick in the window,
then raised his hand, snapping off a shot as he took off down
the street.
The bullet went through the window and shattered it. Nick
quickly swung his legs over the windowsill and to
the ground with bone-jarring force. He took off in hot pur-
suit.
The man had a fair headstart, but he was still in sight down
the street, running hard. Nick didn't know if he'd be able to
catch him, but he had to try. If this was the courier killer, the
sh(E was on the other foot this time, and it was Nick who
was the pursuer. Obviously, if the man didn't have things his
own way, he preferred to leave it for another time. This time,
Nick wanted to press the issue, even though he still had that
silver tube on him.
The fleeing man turned a corner and it took Nick precious
seconds to reach the same corner. For a moment he lost
sight of the man, but then spotted him again. Ihe distance
between them had increased and Nick tried to close that dis-
tance by speeding up.
Nick suddenly became aware of the sound of a siren, but
couldn't tell from which direction it was coming. He found
out soon enough. He was about to cross the same intersec-
tion his quarry had just crossed when a small police car came
out of one of the sidestreets and blocked it. Several uni-
formed men jumped out of the car with their guns drawn.
The first thing they saw was Nick Carter running toward
them with a gun in his hand.
' 'Stop!" one of them shouted in Engl ish, as if he could tell
just from looking at Nick that he was an American.
It didn't take Nick more than a second to decide what his
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safest course of action would be. He stopped running and
threw his hands into the air, holding his gun high above his
head.
As the police officers approached him, he tried to explain
what the situation was, but all they knew was that they had
caught a man running down the street with a gun in his hand
as they were responding to a report of a murder.
Nick knew he was lucky they hadn't fired at him on sight.
They took his gun, handcuffed him, and deposited him in the
back seat of their car.
He couldn't help thinking that he was going to be late
meeting Stephanie for lunch.
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SEVENTEEN
They took Nick to the police station but did not process or
fingerprint him right away. Instead, they put him in a room
with two chairs and a table, locked the door, and left him
there for a good two hours. During that time, Nick pieced to-
gether what must have happened. While he was checking the
upstairs of the house, the other man must have called the po-
lice, hoping that Nick would be picked up for the murder.
Why? If the man was the courier killer, why would he
want Nick in a Swiss jail? How could he have access to him
there? Maybe the point of killing all the couriers over the
past few months had nothing to do with what they were car-
rying. Maybe having Nick executed by Swiss justice was
just as good.
His train of thought was broken when he heard the lock
click open on the door. He expected to be taken from the
room and moved somewhere else, but instead a short man
with graying dark hair and a slight paunch walked in and shut
the door behind him. He was holding Nick's wallet, which
had been taken from him earlier.
Holding the wallet up next to his ear—as if it had some
great secret to tell him—the man said, "You are Ameri-
can. "
S 'That's not hard to tell. "
"You have remarkably little identification in your wallet,
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NICK CARTER
"French, Nick French. "
"Mr. French," the man repeated. "I am Superintendent
Rheiner, Otto Wilhelm Rheiner, at your service. "
"The only thing you can do for me, Mr. Rheiner, is get
me out of here.
"In due time," the superintendent said. He dropped
Nick's wallet on the table, clasped his hands behind his
back , and began to walk around the room, disappearing from
Nick's sight for about five seconds at a time.
"Do you know a man named Carl Kaufman, Mr.
French?'
"I do not," Nick said, without hesitation.
"But you were at his home earlier today. "
"I believe so, yes," Rheiner said.
"If you say so."
"What were you doing when my officers saw you?"
"Running. ' '
Rheiner chuckled and said, "You Americans. Could you
be a little more specific—or would that be against your
American sense of humor?"
"I was chasing someone. "
"Indeed? Who?"
"A man.'
"Is that more of your sense—"
"That's all I know," Nick broke in. "l never saw his
face, and probably wouldn't have known him if I had."
"I see. And why were you chasing him with a gun?"
' 'He came out of Carl Kaufman's house and took a shot at
me," Nick explained, actually telling the truth.
"But you said you didn't know Carl Kaufman?" Rheiner
reminded him.
S 'That's right, I don't," Nick said. "And from the way
I've been treated and the way you're talking, I guess I never
will."
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Rheiner stopped circling Nick and stood in front of
him, smiling. He said, "Very perceptive of you, Mr.
French. You're quite right, Mr. Kaufman is dead. He was
shot."
"I see," Nick said, not reacting to the lie. SSAnd I suppose
you've checked the bullet against my gun?"
"Yes," Rheiner said, "and it matched. "
'In that case, I guess I'd better speak to someone from my
consulate. ' '
Rheiner studied Nick for a few moments, then said, "That
may not be necessary, Mr. French. I lied."
"About what?"
"Carl Kaufman was not shot; his throat was cut. "
"0h," Nick said. "Then what am I doing here?"
'What were you doing there?" the sulErintendent asked.
"Someone from the United States asked me to look him
up when I got here. I was to say hello."
"With a gun?"
Nick tried to look chagrined and said, "That's just a bad
habit, I guess."
"Indeed, I would say," Rheiner agreed. "We frown on
visitors running down our streets with guns, Mr. French.
don't blame you," Nick said, "but I wasn't the only
one."
' 'No, you were not," the other man said. "My men said
that they did see another man, but could not tell whether he
was carrying a weapon or not. On the other hand, they quite
clearly saw the gun in your hand. They thought it wiser to
stop you than to chase him."
"Maybe they made a mistake," Nick suggested.
"Perhaps."
"What do we do now?"
"Well, you were being held for questioning, " the police-
man said. "l have questioned you. "
"Am I free to go?"
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"Not quite. You can leave here, but please stay in the
city. "
Nick stood up and said, "I'm supposed to visit someone
else, as well."
"Where do they live, please?"
Nick gave him the address and the man nodded.
"It is just outside the city, but I will allow it—uh, as long
as this person does not end up dead, as well. "
"I hope not," Nick said, picking up his wallet.
"You may count your money, if you wish. It is all there. "
"I'll trust you," Nick said, tucking the wallet away. "I
would like my cigars back, though, if it's no trouble. "
"I don't think it will be," Rheiner said. He reached into
his jacket and brought out Nick's cigars. When he handed
them to Nick, there were only five, and Nick's heart began to
beat a little faster.
"I had six," Nick said.
"Really?" Rheiner asked, frowning. He seemed to count
the silver tubes in Nick's hand and then said, "It would ap-
pear you only have five now. "
"That's right. "
' 'Well," the man said, "perhaps you smoked one and do
not remember.
Nick examined the man for a few moments, then nodded
and said, "Perhaps," tucking the tubes away in his own
jacket. He did not want to pay too much attention to the mat-
ter, or to the five tubes he now had, until he was away from
the police station.
"What about my gun?"
"Ah, I am afraid I will have to hold onto that. "
"I see no reason for you to have to carry a gun in my coun-
try, Mr. French. Can you give me one?"
"Not one that would satisfy you," Nick said.
"You see? I am compelled to hold onto it. "
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"Will it be returned when I leave?"
93
"That I could not say. Why do you carry a gun in the first
places may I ask?"
"Protection," Nick said.
"From what0"
"People, like the one who killed Carl Kaufman. "
"Your logic is somewhat erratic, I think, but I will not
pursue the matter. Check with me if you intend to leave the
city, and we will discuss the matter then, eh?"
"Sure."
Rheiner stepped back and ushered Nick to the door. When
they were outside the room, he pinted and said, "You may
go out that way—and please remember what I said about not
leaving without checking with me first.
"I'll remember, Superintendent Rheiner," Nick prom-
ised.
Nick left the station, but waited until he was out of sight
before he removed the cigar cases from his pocket. He
breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that one of them was
slightly longer than the rest and that the seals on all five were
unbroken. Apparently, whoever had taken the other one had
enjoyed one good smoke.
Nick's next problem was Wilhelmina and how to get her
back. He felt naked without her, and if push came to shove
with the courier killer, Hugo wouldn't be enough.
He grabbed a cab and told the driver to take him to the
American consulate.
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EIGHTEEN
The man Nick was taken to see at the consulate claimed to
be an undersecretary of something or other, but Nick had
other ideas.
So, it seemed, did Superintendent Rheiner.
"The superintendent called here when they picked you
up," the man said. His name was David Manners and al-
though he was technically an undersecretary—of something
or other—his real job was known only to himself and an of-
fice in Virginia.
"He wanted to know what the American CIA was doing
in his city," Manners explained.
"CIA?" Nick asked.
"That's right," Manners said. "You're not CIA, are you,
Mr. .
"You're not a tourist, either. "
"No, I'm not."
"Then who are you?"
"l don't know what your real position is, Manners, or
what your clearance is, but call this number," Nick said,
taking pencil and paper from the man's desk and writing
down a Washington, D.C., phone number. "And then get
me my gun back."
"Just like that?" Manners asked, picking up the phone
number.
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NICK CARTER
"Just like that. Call me at my hotel and let me know what
happens," Nick said, and left without further discussion.
Catching another cab, he went back to his hotel to look for
Stephanie so he could explain his whereabouts. By now she
must have been convinced that he had run out on her. If the
shoe had been on the other foot, he would have had the same
thoughts.
Maybe she'd let him explain over dinner.
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NINETEEN
Nick went straight to his room and knocked on the con-
necting door. When there was no answer, he cursed out
loud. He was hungry and would have rather gone right to
dinner than have to go looking for her. He left the door un-
locked and went to take a shower before starting his search.
When he came out of the bathroom, he found her sitting
on his bed.
"You bastard!"
"Sit down, Stephanie, and I'll explain. "
"Explain leaving me sitting in the dining room for a cou-
ple of hours, telling myself that you hadn't run out on me. "
"But I haven't.'
"How wasA supposed to know that?"
"You know it now. "
"Yeah, now!"
"So why are you so mad?"
She pouted a bit, but finally said, "I was worried about
you, you sonofabitch. I thought maybe somebody killed
you.
"No, but somebody tried."
"What do you mean?"
"Let me get dressed," he told her.
"We'll go to dinner
and I'll tell you everything."
"I'll change," she said, then added, "but I'm leaving the
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door open so you canst disappear again."
"I don't have any intention of doing that," he said.
She stood up, then covered her mouth and giggled.
"Did you know that you were naked?"
He smiled and said, " Actually, I was hoping you'd notice
that. ' '
"011,"' she said. approaching him. "I noticed. 's
When her hands got busy, he said, "How would you feel
about a late dinner?'
As an answer, her hands got even busier, and he thought
he might as well get busy, too.
They had dinner in the hotel dining room where he filled
her in on all that had happened that day. He left out the part
about going to the consulate and trying to get his gun back.
"God. you're lucky they didn't shoot you down in the
street," she said.
"Yeah, I've thought about that once or twice," he said,
"especially while I was sitting in that ru)m.h'
Over dessert, she asked. "So what's on our agenda
tomorrow?"
"I—we've—got another man to go and see.
"Is he going to be dead, too?"
"l certainly hope not," he said, signaling to the waiter for
the check.
"What if he is?"
He frowned at her. "Let's worry about that tomorrow,
shall we? Why ruin tonight?"
"Oh?" she asked. "Have you got plans for tonight?"
He signed the check and stood up.
"I thought maybe a nightcap in one of our rck)ms.S'
"Which one?"
"Yours."
"Why. all of a sudden?" she asked, then added, "Not
that I mind, of course.
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"Well, to tell you the truth," he said as they headed for
the elevator,
"since I don't have my gun to sleep with
tonight
"You stink!" she said.
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TWENTY
In the morning they had breakfast in Stephanie's room and
then Nick went through the connecting door to his own room
to shower and dress while she did the same.
"What now?" she asked in the hall.
"Now we've got to rent a car and get directions to this ad-
dress," he said.
"What address?"
"This one, j' he said, tapping his temple. "Come on—and
stop asking me 'what now?' all the time. Just follow my
lead. We'll never get anywhere if I have to stop and explain
every move to you before we make it. "
"Well, at least you said 'we.' "
"We're partners, aren't we?"
"Maybe I'm starting to believe that," she said.
Nick asked the clerk where the nearest car rental agency
was, and the clerk gave him directions.
"We can walk," he told Stephanie.
"Great. "
Nick had a few anxious moments when they walked out of
the hotel. The courier killer could have opened fire on them
at that moment and Nick would've had no gun with which to
return fire. It might've meant their lives.
It was then that he remembered the little .25 in
Stephanie's purse. It wasn't much, and it wouldn't be much
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use from across the street, but it was than having Hugo
alone.
"Did you clear it with the police so you could leave the
city?" she asked.
"It's all taken care of, Stephanie. "
"What if he hadn't thought you were a CIA agent,
He looked up at the sky and said. "l probably wouldn't
have seen the light of day for quite a while.
"And I would&ve thought that you had really run out on
"See?" he said. "I would have been in jail and had you
mad at me at the same time. I don't know which would have
been worse. "
"l do," she said, and dug at his ribs with an elbow.
They rented a little Audi and Nick got in behind the wheel.
Stephanie climbed in the front seat next to him. "Let's go,
she said.
Nick had gotten directions from girl behind the counter
at the rental agency, and they had about an hour's drive
ahead of them. Nick kept checking the rear-view mirror to
see if they were being followed, but what he really womed
about was somebody—the killer?—getting there ahead of
him. Only how would that somebody know where he was
going?
Worry about that later. Hawk had said, but he couldn't.
He had to worry about it now. Things '*ere getting too
"You keep looking in the rear-view mirror, " Stephanie
said, twisting around in her seat.
"Force of habit," Nick said. dismissing it.
"What a way to live."
"Your father lived the same way," he reminded her.
"And died, ' ' she retorted, and that killed conversation for
quite a while.
After some miles and almost twenty minutes, Stephanie
said, "How much further?"
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"Shouldn't be too long now. "
103
She lapsed into silence again, arms folded in front of her
and eyes straight ahead.
There was a long stretch of road where there were no
buildings or structures of any kind.
"Great place for an ambush," Stephanie said.
"Not so loud, 't he warned.
Finally, small houses began to appear at intervals, and
then they came into a small village.
"This is it," he said. '*Now we just have to find the right
street. "
Before they could do that, they had to stop at a small pas-
try shop and ask how to get there, The man behind the coun-
ter smiled and gave them exact directions, As they were
leaving he said, "Gustav Balnap must be a very popular
mans these days. "
Nick stopped short and turned back to the man.
"Why do you say that?"
"You are the second person to ask for directions to his
home in the past hour."
"l see. And what did this other person look like?"
"A man" was the answer, along with a shrug.
' 'Oh yes, quite alone. "
"Thank you. "
Nick hurried out to the car and got it started with a jerk.
"What's the matter?"
"Someone else is an hour ahead of us.
"A man. Do you have your gun with you?"
"My gun?" she asked. "How do you know I have a-—"
"Who do you think cleaned it for you?"
She opened her purse and looked at the gun, then looked
back at Nick with a frown.
"I have it," she said.
"Do you know how to use it?"'
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"Probably not as well as you. "
"Give it here, then, ' ' he said, taking his left hand from the
wheel and extending it toward her. After a slight hesitation,
he felt her lay the automatic in his hand, and he was struck by
how light it felt, like a toy.
A deadly toy.
At least he hoped it was deadly.
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TWENTY-ONE
"A farm?" Stephanie asked.
"That's what it looks like," Nick said.
He had to stop the car to get out and open a gate that would
admit them to the grounds.
"Be careful," she told him.
He kept the little .25 in his left hand, small enough to be
completely hidden there, and then used his right to unhook
the gate and swing it inward. When he got back into the car,
he kept the gun in his hand and drove through the gate.
"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" she
asked.
"Let's just say that I wish you weren't here, and I wish I
had my own gun back."
"Great," she said, hugging her arms.
"Just stay in the car, Stephanie—"
"Oh no, Nick," she cut in. "l think the safest place for
me is with you."
"All right, but you've got to do exactly as I say."
"You got it. "
Nick pulled the car up in front of the farmhouses which
was small and old, but had been kept up by someone who
cared. However, the barn was in a state of disrepair, m)ssibly
because the owner, Gustav Belnap, couldn't afford to fix it.
"What do we do---" she started to ask, but remembered
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that heSd asked her not to ask that question. "Never mind. "
"Just follow me," he said, "and if anything happens to
me, run like hell."
"Shit," she said in a whisper.
"Let's go."
When they got out of the car, Nick switched the gun from
his left hand to his right.
"Try the door, he said as they mounted the front porch.
He studied the grounds, paying special attention to the barn,
but there was no movement to be seen.
"Uh-oh," she said.
"The door's open," she said. "That's bad, isn't it?"
"That remains to be seen," he said. "Step back and let
me go in first.
"Maybe we should get some help. s'
"Like who?" he said. "Just do what I tell you, Stephanie,
and everything will be fine."
'*All right. all right."
He pushed the door open and slipl*d in, holding the toy
cannon at the ready.
"Nick?" Stephanie whispered from outside.
He was going to shush her, then realized how futile and
silly that would probably be, but if he didn't answer her,
she'd just keep calling. He stuck his left hand out the door so
she would take it, and then drew her in next to him when she
did.
"Quiet," he told her, and she nodded.
He inspected the inside of the farmhouse, which was in
semidarkness. Just like the home of Carl Kaufman. He had
the distinct feeling he was about to relive the incident all over
again.
'*What's the matter?"
"If this is like last time—" he started to say, and then
stopped. He moved toward the door and looked out. S •He's
in the barn."
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that heid asked her not to ask that question. "Never mind. "
"Just follow me," he said, "and if anything happens to
me, run like hell."
"Shit," she said in a
"Let's go."
When they got out of the car, Nick switched the gun from
his left hand to his right.
"Try the door, he said as they mounted the front porch.
He studied the grounds, paying special attention to the barn,
but there was no movement to be seen.
"Uh-oh," she said.
"The door's open," she said. "That's bad, isn't it?"
"That remains to seen," he said. "Step back and let
me go in first.
' 'Maytx we should get some help. s'
"Like who?" he said. "Just do what I tell you, Stephanie,
and everything will be fine."
'*All right. all right."
He pushed the dcxr 01En and slipped in, holding the toy
cannon at the ready.
"Nick?" Stephanie from outside.
He was going to shush her, then realized how futile and
silly that would probably be, but if he didn't answer her,
she'd just keep calling. He stuck his left hand out the door so
she would take it, and then drew her in next to him when she
did.
"Quiet," he told her, and she nodded.
He ins1Ected the inside of the farmhouse, which was in
semidarkness. Just like the home of Carl Kaufman. He had
the distinct feeling he was about to relive the incident all over
again.
'*What's the matter?"
"If this is like last time—" he started to say, and then
stopped. He moved toward the door and looked out. S •He's
in the barn."
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'SHow do you know? And who is in the barn?"
107
g $ The killer. When I was at Kaufman's house, he let me go
upstairs and he stayed downstairs.
"This house doesn't have an upstairs."
"Right, so he'll stay in the barn while we're in the
house. "
"What about the man who lives here?"
' 'If he was here when the killer got here, then I think he's
dead. "
"But we haven't checked all of the rooms. "
s 'I'll do that now. You stay here by the door. Here," he
said, giving her the gun.
"What do I do if he comes out of the barn?"
"If he comes toward the house, shoot him, but let him get
close first. That popgun won't be much good unless he's
close. "
"All—all right," she said a little shakily.
s won't be long," he promised.
He moved further into the house and picked out the two
doorways that led into other rooms. Any other doors were ei-
ther closets or bathrooms.
He found the remains of Gustav Balnap in the second bed-
room. In the first, he found pieces of paper in the trash buck-
et with drawings on them. He pocketed them and went back
•to the door where Stephanie was nervously peering out.
"What—
' 'I found somebody," he said. "It must be Gustav."
He nodded. "Like Kaufman, his throat was cut. "
She looked at his face then and stammered. "Is .
that how—
"Yes, Stephanie, that's how your father was killed."
is
"Then this killer you're referring to is the man who killed
my father?"
"Yes. "
as look-
"Then your assignment is the same thing as . . .
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ing for my father's murderer. "
"Not exactly," he said. '*What 19m doing is waiting for
your father's killer to find me."
"Why didn't you tell me? Why'd you let me say all those
nasty things to you in Washington?"
"You needed to blow off steam," he told her. "Besides,
it was none of your business,
"Now that's debatable, " she said.
"It might debatable," he agreed, "but not now. "
He the gun from her and she said, "I know you said
not to ask, but what are you going to do now?"
"I'm going over to the bam to meet our friend," he said.
He took two steps out the door and then there was a shot; a
bullet plowed into the wood frame around the door.
Stephanie shouted and Nick leaped back through the door
into the safety of the house.
"Are you all right?" he asked her.
"Yes, I think so," she replied. ' 'How about you?"
"I'm fine," he said, picking himself up from the floor.
"What did you yell for?"
' 'I got scared," she said sheepishly.
He moved back to the door and peered out.
"Are you going to shoot back?" she asked.
"With this?" he asked, indicating her little .25, which
looked pitifully small in his hand.
"Well, what's he got?"
"Probably a rifle of some kind. "
'*So we're stuck?"
"No," Nick said. "I'll draw his fire and you run for the
car and get out of here. "
"Oh, no—"
"Oh, yes. "
"I'm not leaving you, Nick," she said firmly.
Give me one good reason why not, and you can stay.'
She spent a few moments trying to think of a good excuse,
and finally said, "If I leave and you get killed, I'll probably
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never get my gun back."
109
He stared at her for a few beats. then shrugged his shoul-
ders and said, "Stay put, then. I'll make a run for the car. "
"I'm not going to leave," he added hurriedly. s 'II get in
the car and drive it into the barn. Maybe I can flush him out,
or get close enough to use this peashooter of yours. "
"Guns have feelings too," she warned.
"You're nuts. Stay here, okay?"
*'It's not going to be easy. " she said. Nick stuck his head
out to take another look and another bullet plowed into the
side of the house. "l take that back," she said.
"Just do it," he said, "and wish me luck."
She kissed him on the cheek and said, "Good luck,
Nick. "
He got ready to spring out the door, then had second
thoughts as he asked her, "Did you lock the door on your
side v
s 'I locked mine," he said, and took off,
He ran for the car, which meant he had to cross about
twenty feet of open ground. He heard the shots and actually
felt one bury itself in the dirt behind his right heel. When he
reached the little car, he knew that the driver's side was
locked, so he vaulted over the roof, and as he landed, a bullet
went through the front windshield on the passenger side.
Nick yanked the door open and threw himself onto the
front seat; the key was still in the ignition. Switching the gun
to his left hand, he started the car, put it into drive, and
floored the gas pedal.
He was hoping that the killer was on the ground floor,
where he'd have to move to avoid the car. If he was up in the
hayloft, he'd be free to take pot shots.
As the car approached the barn, Nick caught sight of the
man behind one of the barn doors. In seconds he was gone,
and the car broke through into the barn, striking the one
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closed door, not only knocking it open, but off one hinge, as
well.
Inside the barn, Nick turned the wheel hard and the car did
a quick one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. Without
turning off the motor, Nick slid over to the passenger side,
pushed the open, and tumbled out.
The only sound in the barn was that of the car'} running
motor. Nick sat with his back against the car, Stephanie's
gun in his right hand. In the enclosed area of the barn, the
gun suddenly became more of a weapon and less ofa toy. He
looked above at the hayloft, hoping that the killer hadn't had
time to get up there. But if his instincts were right, his rented
car was now between himself and the killer.
Moving up on his haunches, he eased down toward the
front of the car so that he was up against a tire. That way he
would tr less ofa target from underneath the car. He held the
gun ready, counted to three, and then stood up and braced
himself on the hood of the car with the gun held out in front
of him.
One of the barn doors was hanging by one hinge and was
still swaying from the force of Nick's entry. Scanning the
wall opposite him, he saw that there wasn't anyplace to hide;
yet the man who had been shooting at them was nowhere in
sight.
Had he gotten out of the barn immediately after Nick's
entry?
If he had, he was either long gone, or he'd gone to the
house, in which case he now had Stephanie. Nick was too
much of a pro to let that thought send him rushing out from
his cover. Until he proved otherwise, he was going to act on
the assumption that the killer was still there in the barn with
him.
Slowly, holding the gun out in front of him, he began to
move out from behind the car, which was quickly filling the
air inside the barn with carbon monoxide. There were tcxj
many holes in the structure of the barn—not to mention the
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111
open door—for it to be deadly, but it was becoming
uncomfortable.
Nick made a slow circuit of the barn with his eyes.
spotting no one. There were two alternatives. Either the kill-
er was in the hayloft or he was behind the door that was
hanging on one hinge, waiting for his chance.
Nick didn't think he was in the hayloft, He was sure he'd
seen the man at the door, and he hadn't had time to run up the
ladder before Nick drove into the barn.
He had to be behind the door, waiting. If Nick approached
the door to pull it shut, the killer could shoot him easily. Fir-
ing his own gun through the door was too chancy. He could
use up his ammunition and not even hit the man. And he
wasn't too sure the .25 had the power to penetrate the door.
What he had to do was decoy the man into pushing the
door shut himself.
The ladder to the hayloft was made of wood, and it ap-
peared to be unstable. If a man tried to climb it, it would
surely rattle and make noise. Nick backed his way up to it,
keeping his front covered. Reaching behind him, he stopped
when he encountered the ladder with his left hand and then,
tightening his grip on the gun, he rattled the ladder, hoping
that it would sound as if he were climbing it.
As the ladder rattled, the door suddenly swung shut,
propelled by the of a kick. The killer, after standing
with his back to the wall for so long, stepped forward and
pointed his rifle at the ladder, where he apparently hoped to
find Nick's back. Instead, he saw Nick standing there, point-
ing a gun at him. Nick saw the shock on the man's face as he
pulled the trigger on the .25 four times. Each of his four
shots struck the man in the chest, and after the fourth shot,
the man's hands opened and the rifle fell to the ground. He
his mouth as if he were going to try and say some-
thing, but no sound came out, and then he fell forward onto
his face.
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TWENTY-TWO
As Nick approached the body, he kicked the rifle away,
but then he heard someone coming up behind him. He tumed
quickly with the gun pointed.
"Wait!" Stephanie shouted. "It's me!" She had her
hands up in front of her to protect herself.
"I told you to stay put. "
s 'I heard shooting, " she said, then added, "at least I think
it was shcx)ting. It sounded so faint.
"That's what this ppgun sounds like from where you
were," he said. He turned back to the fallen man and
crouched down next to him.
' 'Is that him?" she asked.
' 'It's somebody," he said, checking first to make sure the
man was dead, and then going through his pockets for identi-
fication. He felt sure, though, that whatever I.D. the man
had on him would be false.
"According to this I.D., his name was Eric Rauter," Nick
said, reading the contents of the man's wallet.
You don't believe it?"
'SStephanie, I have identification that says I'm Nick
French—and a few others, as well.
"Dumb question, huh?"
He didn't answer. He searched the man further, but
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NICK CARTER
couldn't find anything of importance.
"Is he the man you saw running from Carl Kaufman's
house?" she asked.
"l can't be sure," he answered. "l never saw that man's
face."
"So we don't know if this is the man you've looking
for,' • she said, "the man killed my father.
"The man I'm looking for is someone else entirely," he
reminded her. standing up. "But I know what you mean.
and, no. I can't be sure. else could he be. though? Hess
certainly not a fanner. "
"Should we call somebody?"
"Like who?"
"The police?"
He shook his head.
"The last thing I need is to end up in the hands of the po-
lice again,' • he said. "No, Ell make a phone call when we
get back to the hotel and get a cleanup crew out trre.••
"A cleanup crew?"
"Yes. Maybe we can find out who this guy is after all. He
might tell us more dead than he would alive.
"And what about the man you're lookine for? • •
Nick touched his pocket and said. "He was here. I knoq
that much. He left some more pictures behind."
"Let me see."
"Not now. Let's get out of her first before someone
comes along. As it is. a couple ofpeople know were com-
ing to this place. The faster get our people out here tc
clean up. the Fetter off be."
' 'I'm for that." she said. "Was the car damagediV'
He turned to look at it.
"Just a bullet hole in the front windshield. We'll drive il
to tlr outskirts of and then it. rental agencv
will find it or later, and by that time we@ll gone
We can't afford to take the time to ans*er questions
bullet holes. "
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115
He started for the car and then stopped when he realized
that she wasn't following. He turned and saw her staring
down at the body.
"Stephanie?"
"l should be feeling something," she said. "If this is the
man who killed my father, I should be feeling—
"Maybe the key word here is 'if,' " he proposed.
'S What do you mean?" she asked, tearing her eyes away
from the dead man.
"Let's talk about it back at the hotel, Stephanie," he said.
'SCome on. We don't have any time to waste."
' 'Ail right," she said. She took one last look at the dead
man, then said again, "All right," and followed Nick to the
car.
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TWENTY-THREE
When they got back to the hotel after ditching the car and
catching a bus, it was already early evening.
"Why don't we have dinner in our rooms, and then we
can talk," Nick suggested at her door.
"I'd like to take a shower first."
"I'll go to my rcx)rn and order. The connecting door will
be unlocked. Come in when you're ready."
She nodded and went into her room. He walked down the
hall and let himself into his own room.
He called service and ordered dinner for two, then
undressed to take a shower. As he soaped himself, he won-
dered why he always seemed to a step behind Lector,
while the killer was always a step ahead. Now it should be
easier, he thought. Without the killer hovering about, wait-
ing to strike, it should be much simpler to track down Dr.
Lector.
If, indeed, the killer was dead.
That nagged at him as he dressed. Was the man he killed
the "courier killer," as he had come to think of him? This
was a new question to gnaw at him, along with wondering
how the man had always managed to stay ahead of him.
Before the food arrived, along with Stephanie, he made a
call to the American consulate and asked for Manners.
"Can we talk freely?" he asked as Manners came on the
line.
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NICK CARTER
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NICK CARTER
Manners made no pretense about not knowing what Nick
was talking about.
"This line is clean," he said without hesitation.
"There's been a problem," Nick said. s 'l need a cleanup
crew and an identification." He gave Manners the address,
but did not go into specific detail about what had happened,
even though the man had assured him it was safe to talk.
"All right," Manners said. He did not sound happy to
have Nick in his city, but he had obviously checked up on
him.
"I don't care if the crew is yours or mine," Nick said.
s *1911 take care of it."
"Fine. "
"When can you come in .
. so we can talk9"
"I don't know," Nick said. "There are some other
things—"
"I've recovered that item you wanted," Manners said,
meaning Wilhelmina.
s I'll make a point of coming in tomorrow," Nick said.
"Hopefully, you'll also have that other information for
me."
*'I'll try."
"Until tomorrow, then," Nick said, and hung up.
As he hung up, there was a knock on his door. He opened
it and permitted the bellboy to wheel in the tray with dinner
on it.
"Thank you," he said, tipping the man and ushering him
out. Then he walked to the connecting door and knocked on
it, just to let Stephanie know that the soup was on.
He had everything set by the time she opened the door and
walked in, wearing a robe.
"l hope you don't mind the informal attire," she said.
"Not at all," he smiled.
She gave him a halfhearted smile in return and sat down at
the tray opposite him.
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"Are you all right?" he asked.
119
"I think so," she said. "l think I just need to talk."
"Let's talk, then," he said.
"What do I do if that man is the one who killed my
"You go home," he said. "You go back to your job at the
DIA. "
"As a file clerk?" she said. making a face. "I don't think
I could do that. "
"Go home anyway. Change your job, but go home.
"And what if he's not the man who killed my father?"
"How are you going to be sure, either way?"
"By staying with you. "
"Stephanie—i'
s 'By seeing your assignment through to the end. If you
succeed, and there are no more attempts on your life, then
I'll sure—but not until then. "
"You've thought about this?"
s 'As much as I could?' she said. "I've made my decision;
now I have to wait for you to make yours. "
"You mean I have a choice in the matter?" he asked.
She knew he was referring to the way she had dogged him
to London and Paris, and she smiled genuinely this time.
"Yes," she said, "this time."
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TWENTY-FOUR
After dinner, they skipped dessert and decided to go
straight to tRd. When Stephanie dropped her robe, revealing
nothing underneath, Nick responded in kind. And for the rest
of the evening they made slow and easy love. They hadn't
skipped dessert after all.
Early in the morning, Nick sent Stephanie back to her own
room, but first he gave her back her gun.
"I don't want you complaining that I didn't give it back to
you," he said, so that she wouldn't assume he was giving it
to her for another reason.
When she left his room, he showered, dressed, and then
left to go to the consulate. He told her to have breakfast in
her room and that he'd be back for lunch.
"Hopefully," she said.
"I'd have to be arrested to keep me from coming back,"
he said.
"Don't even say that in jest. "
He caught a cab in front of the hotel and told the driver to
take him to the American consulate. He got in to see Man-
ners much faster this time than the last.
"Manners," he said by way of greeting as he entered the
office.
' €1 haven't been told very much atk)ut you, Carter, except
that I'm to cooperate."
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NICK CARTER
"They told you my name, too, I see."
"And not a hell ofa lot else," the man replied sourly. He
01rned a drawer in his desk and brought out a large brown
which contained something bulky, and handed it
to Nick.
It was Wilhelmina.
Nick tcok the gun out of the checked it out to
make sure it hadn't been damaged, or fired, and then tucked
it away in his empty holster.
He felt whole again.
"Sit down," Manners invited, though it didn't sound very
much like an invitation. Nick sat.
care of that cleanup job last night, but we're going
to have to tell the police something. Can't have a farmer just
drop out of sight without questions being asked.
"I'll tr gone, so I don't care what you tell them," Nick
said.
"Sure," Manners said, putting a bit of bitterness into that
one word. He was about forty or so and a little heavy, which
probably came from sitting trhind a desk.
"Ever work the field, Manners?"
did," he replied. "I'm not here by choice."
"I sympathize," Nick said, "but don't take it out on me. I
didn't put you here. "
Manners caught Nick's eyes and held them for a while,
then nodded curtly and said, "Fair enough."
"Did you tell the superintendent that I'm not CIA?"
"We're letting him think what he wants. He always does,
anyway. Don't worry, we can handle him. "
Nick touched his gun through his jacket and said, "Obvi-
ously. What did you find out atx)ut the man I killed?"
"He's nothing extraordinary," Manners answered.
"He's a pro. all right—or he was—but certainly not in your
league. "
"His name?"
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"His prints say he's Henry Johns, but he hasn't used that
name for quic a while.
That name, and the name he had found in the man's wal-
let, meant nothing to Nick. Could this be the man who had
been knocking off American couriers for so long?
"You don't look pleased," Manners said. "Did I say
something you didn't want to hear?"
"Yes," Nick said, standing up. "But I won't hold it
against you. It's not your fault. Thanks for the information
and for my gun.
"That's what I'm here for, or so they tell me," Manners
said, and now he didn't sound bitter, just weary. "If there's
anything else I can do, just let me know. "
"I will, Good day."
Manners gave Nick a small salute, and then Nick left and
went back to his hotel, much sooner than he had expected.
He decided not to let Stephanie know he was back yet.
This would give him time to examine the drawings he'd
found at the farmhouse.
He tcx)k off his jacket, sat on the bed, and pulled the new
drawings out of his inner pocket. There were four of them
and he smoothed them out as best he could, then fanned them
out on the bed.
They were the same tY}E, with stick-figure men, one kill-
ing or trying to kill the other one. One of the drawings plain-
ly gave away Anton Lector's next stop—Rome. One particu-
lar drawing showed two stick-figure men standing in front of
the Colosseum in Rome, and this bothered Nick. It was as if
Lector were leaving signposts, wanting Nick to follow him,
but not catch him—yet.
Nick didn't like the feeling of being led around by the
nose. He didn't like it at all. He folded up the drawings and
put them back in his jacket. He had the papers in one pocket
and the five tubes in the other. He laid the jacket across the
back of a chair and went into the bathroom to wash his
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NICK CARTER
hands. When he came out. Stephanie was standing in the
connecting doorway, fully dressed.
She was holding her gun.
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TWENTY-FIVE
thought I heard you, V' she said. "You came back
earlier than you told me you would. "
He was standing in the bathroom with a towel in
his hands.
"You can't be that mad," he said, indicating the gun in
her hand, "just because I came back earlier than I said. "
' 'What?" she asked, and then looked down at the gun as if
she hadn't realized she was holding it. "Oh, this? Don't be
silly. I was trying to reload the damned thing when I thought
I heard you."
Nick put the towel down and walked up to her.
"Here, let me do it before you shoot yourself in the foot. "
He ejected the partially empty clip and inserted the new
one she'd been holding.
"I thought it would be better to have it fully loaded," she
said as he handed it back.
s 'It would be better to have it set on safety, too," he said,
showing her how to do it.
"Thanks," she said. "Shall I order breakfast?"
"Let's go downstairs and have it," he suggested.
"Let me have a few seconds and I'll be right with you,"
she said.
"I've heard that before."
She flashed him a mischievous look and walked back into
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her own room, leaving the door
Nick retrieved his jacket and slipped into it. He knew he
should take the time to clean Wilhelmina, just to make sure
she was right, but if the killer was dead, then the immediate
danger was over.
But how could the killer have been such an unremarkable
man? At least he had ex1Ected the identification to be some-
one he had heard of, with a long record of impressive kills.
Nothing had been right about this assignment since the be-
ginning, and it looked as if things would keep right on going
that way.
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TWENTY-SIX
When Nick told Stephanie where the trail was leading
them next, she put her fork down and stared at him.
"Yes," he said. "One of the drawings I picked up at the
farmhouse made it plain." He showed her the drawing in
question.
"What if it's wrong?"
s 'A drawing led us here, didn't it?" he reminded her.
"You needed an imagination to make that one work," she
said. "If this one is so obvious . .
She stared pointedly at
the drawing.
"Then it might be a ruse? I thought of that, but we've got
no other choice right now, Stephanie. We can't hang around
here. Sooner or later that superintendent is going to want to
have another chat with me, especially when Belnap is
discovered. '
"All right, Nick," she said, "you're the boss."
"I'll remind you that you said that sometime. "
"Said what?"
"Eat your breakfast. "
After breakfast they went back upstairs so they could
pack. Since Nick hadn't unpacked, all he had to do was call
the airlines and get a flight to their next destination.
Nick stopped by Stephanie's door and waited until she
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TWENTY-SIX
When Nick told Stephanie where the trail was leading
them next, she put her fork down and stared at him.
"Yes," he said. "One of the drawings I picked up at the
farmhouse made it plain." He showed her the drawing in
question.
"What if it's wrong?"
s 'A drawing led us here, didn't it?" he reminded her.
"You needed an imagination to make that one work," she
said. "If this one is so obvious . .
She stared pointedly at
the drawing.
"Then it might be a ruse? I thought of that, but we've got
no other choice right now, Stephanie. We can't hang around
here. Sooner or later that superintendent is going to want to
have another chat with me, especially when Belnap is
discovered. '
"All right, Nick," she said, "you're the boss."
"I'll remind you that you said that sometime. "
"Said what?"
"Eat your breakfast. "
After breakfast they went back upstairs so they could
pack. Since Nick hadn't unpacked, all he had to do was call
the airlines and get a flight to their next destination.
Nick stopped by Stephanie's door and waited until she
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NICK CARTER
went in. Then he let himself into his own room and found out
that he had company.
French, isn't it?" Rheiner
"Ah, Mr. .
said. "Come in, come in. After all, this is your room. "
"That's right, it is," Nick said. He closed the dcxr behind
him and then faced Rheiner and the two uniformed men he
had brought with him. "What's this about, Superin-
ten den t? S 9
"It's about murder," Rheiner answered. "Two murders,
in fact. You'd be surprised to know that we don't have that
many murders in my city—that is, we didn't until you
came. That bothers me. You see, I do not believe in
coincidence.
"Well, that makes two of us," Nick said. He had the feel-
ing that things were not going to go well here, and he had to
do something before things went totally wrong. "I don't tr-
lieve in coincidence, either," he said, walking to the chest of
drawers on his right. He started emptying his as if he
did that every time he came into the room. Wallet, keys,
change, and then, hoping that it didn't look out of place,
he took the silver tutES from his pocket and put them in the
top drawer, keeping up a line of chatter the whole time to dis-
tract the superintendent from what he was doing.
"Excuse me," Rheiner said suddenly, "but I did not
come here to discuss coincidence. "
"No, I didn't think so," Nick said. He turned to face the
man again and rested his elbow on the chest of drawers.
"Just what is it you did come here for?"
"To arrest you. "
Nick rubbed his jaw with his right hand and then said,
"To arrest me .
for what?"
"I will think of something," Rheiner said.
Nick laughed, which made the superintendent frown.
"What are you laughing at?"
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"You," Nick said. "You sound like an American
movie. "
"I am sorry you find me funny, Mr. French-—or whatever
your name is—but I do not like CIA men coming into my
city and killing people. Do you understand?"
'SUnderstand what?" Nick asked. "You think I'm with
the CIA?" Nick gave the superintendent the benefit of his
best derisive snort and said, "You've got it all wrong,
Rheiner. "
"I Gee. You are merely a tourist here on holiday. .
"Right. "
' 'And the American consulate makes it a point to recover
all of their tourists' guns for them, eh?"
The man had him there. How could he explain that away
and keep himself out of jail?
He couldn't.
'VI think prhaps you should come with us willingly,"
Rheiner said.
"I've got a right to make a phone call," Nick said,
storming past Rheiner and his men and picking up the phone.
He started dialing, but Rheiner stoplRd him by taking the re-
ceiver from his hand and putting it down on the table.
"You will allowed to make your phone call, Mr.
French—later!
"This isn't right, Rheiner," Nick said. "You've got no
evidence to arrest me with. "
"Mr. French," Rheiner said, "this is not the United
States. Please do not presume to tell me what I can and can-
not do. Now, I would prefer that you come with us willingly,
but if not, we are prepared—"
"Whoa, hold on!" Nick cried, holding his hands up in
front of him as the two uniformed policemen approached
him. "I'll come willingly, don't worry. I'm sure this is all
just a mix-up. CIA man .
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As he started past Rheiner, the man put his hand on his
chest to stop him and said. "Your weapon. please."
"Oh, yeah, sure," Nick said. He took Wilhelmina out of
her holster and handed the gun over. "Uh, before we go, do
you mind if I go to the bathroom?"
Rheiner looked annoyed, but agreed.
'Happens when I get nervous," Nick said as he walked to
the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
The first time he'd been taken to the police station, they
had put him in a room and given him a rather cursory pat-
down, but he figured that this time he'd get a pretty thorough
body search, and Hugo and Pierre would be, if anything,
even harder to explain than Wilhelmina. He took off the
knife and the little gas bomb and tucked them away in the
medicine chest, then flushed the toilet, washed his hands,
and went back into the other room.
"All right, I'm ready. "
"If you don't mind .
Rheiner said, and then
motioned to his men. who approached Nick and patted him
down. They stepped back and shook their heads.
"Don't tell me; let me guess," Nick said. "You thought I
had a gun hidden in the toilet. "
"The thought crossed my mind," Rheiner admitted.
"Shall we go?"
Shaking his head, Nick said, "You've really got to stop
watching those American movies, Superintendent. "
'It may be quite a long time before you.get to see any kind
of a movie, Mr. French.' S the man said. "If I were you, I
would think about that. "
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TWENTY-SEVEN
ms time they didn't just put Nick in a they gave
him a ceil all his own. Then they gave him a thorough txxiy
search, removed his belt and shoelaces, and put him in a cell
in the basement of the building.
"l will by a little later on, Mr. French," Rheiner told
him. "Meanwhile, make yourself as comfortable as
*Nible. "
"You're making a mistake, Sur*rintendent," Nick said.
g ' That remains to seen."
Ihis was a rare situation for Nick. Nonnally, he was able
to use certain connections to keep himself out of jail—not
that he made a habit of breaking the law while he was on as-
signment, but on occasion it had been necessary to tEnd it a
little.
He sat on his cot, and rememtxred that he had tEen dial-
ing Stephanie's room when the superintendent grabbed the
phone away from him. He she had answered the
phone and had listened to the conversation. If she had, there
as a chance she'd get in touch with Manners and have him
et Nick out of this before they got too far behind Dr. Lector
o ever find him.
Nick made gcx>d use of the time that he was to srrnd in
t cell. Rather than lament his present situation, he made
trst of it by using the time to think, to try and put things
ogether.
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NICK CARTER
He still did not know what Stephanie's whole story was,
how she had tken able to follow him to London and Paris,
but he knew that he was somehow tEing led around by M)rne•
one, not necessarily by Lector himself, but by someone who
knew Lector's moves and wanted to keep Nick on his trail,
And then there was the killer, who was always one step in
front of Nick—but was now dead himself.
Or was he?
Nick was starting to believe that either. the dead man
wasn't the courier killer, or else there were two men working
together, and now one was dead and the other was still ou
there.
If that was true, then the other man was still a very big
threat to all of them—Stephanie, Lector, and himself.
Which brought everything back to his getting out of t
predicament he was in. Who knew what the killer would
now that he was out of his reach?
There wasn't very much Nick could do about it at the m
ment, though. It all rested in the hands of the others
Stephanie, Rheiner, and Manners. He only that
three of them would be able to get it done—and quickly.
He couldn't tell for sure, because they had taken his watc
as well, but it must have five or six hours
Rheiner came back and OERned the cell door.
"Come with me," he said, looking unhappy.
"Am I sprung?"
"Just follow me, Mr. French, and don't try my patience,'
the smaller man said. "l am on edge at this moment, anc
what I do not need is a push from you."
"All right, Superintendent," Nick said, standing up
"lead the way."
Rheiner led him upstairs and into the room where they hac
first taken him. Waiting for them there was David Manners
On the table in the center of the room were Nick's watch
belt, shoelaces, and gun.
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133
"Here is your man, Mr. Manners," Rheiner said. "Re-
your promise, please. " With that, the surxrintend-
ent left without casting another glance at Nick.
"Are you all right?" Manners asked Nick.
"Yes, I am, " Nick said, collecting his things from the ta-
ble. "What was that about?"
' 'Let's get out of here and then we'll talk," Manners said.
"I'm for that."
Manners had a car waiting for them outside, and in the
back seat was Stephanie.
'Are you all right?' ' she asked when they entered the car.
"I'm fine. "
s 'I got so scared when you called my she said.
almost hung up, but I heard you and the policeman talk*
ing, and I saw them take you away. All I could think to do
was call the consulate. "
"You did just right, " Nick told her. He turned to Manners
and asked, 'V What about this promise you made to
Rheiner?' '
"I promised him the murderer of Kaufman and the farm-
er, Belnap, and I promised him that you would leave the city
and the country immediately. '9
"Well, that fits right in with my plans," Nick said. ' 'We
were about to leave when I was arrested. "
"Then I suggest you do so."
"You don't want me here any more than Rheiner does,"
Nick said. "So how about having your car wait for us at the
hotel while we pack and settle up?"
"%at's fine with me. I'll have the driver drop me off
first, and then he'll take you to the airprt. "
They dropped Manners off, and he left the car without a
wordto either of them. Stephanie turned to Nick and said,
"And where are we off to now, as if I didn't know?"
"The next stop," Nick said, "is Rome."
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TWENTY-EIGHT
During the flight from Geneva to Rome, Nick made a de-
cision on how they would proceed.
They wouldn't.
He decided to take that feeling—which came from
instinct—that someone was leading him about, and run with
it. He was not even going to make an attempt at finding
Anton Lector and, if he was right, something would happen
to tell him where to look next.
He was hoping that this course of action might also answer
sorne questions about Stephanie. Maybe she would be the
one to come up with something on Lector, which would be
immediately questionable. She wasn't supposed to be inter-
ested in anything but finding her father's killer. If all of a
sudden she was able to come up with something helpful on
Dr. Lector, that would mean that she wasn't what she
seemed to be.
Then he would have to find out who she really was, and
who was directing her.
Pe looked at Stephanie, dozing in the seat next to him,
and wondered if he'd ever really know what her real goal
was.
When their descent was announced, Nick nudged
Stephanie and they fastened their seat belts.
"l was asleep," she said.
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NICK CARTER
"I noticed," he told her, smiling. She smiled back, and
her smile made her incredibly lovely. He that she was
no more than what she seemed. a lovely young woman who
was deeply affected by the death—no, the murder—of a fa-
ther she had loved very much.
"Have you been making plans?" she said.
"Oh, yes," he said. "Very definite plans."
Definite plans to do nothing but wait and see what
haprEned.
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TWENTY-NINE
At the hotel, Nick surprised Stephanie by asking for a
single suite, but she kept quiet. When they got into the room
and the bellboy left, she sidled up to Nick and put her arms
around his waist.
"I get the feeling you want something of me this trip,
sir," she said, kissing his throat.
He closed his arms around her and when she tilted her
head up, he kissed her, softly at first, and then harder, until
she broke away, panting slightly. She put one hand between
them and felt his hardness.
"You do want something, don't you?"
They moved together toward the bed, then separated long
enough to undress and pull down the covers. After that, they
were on the bed, rolling in each other's arms, and when he
entered her, she stiffened and raked his back with her nails.
He proceeded slowly at first as he teased her with his
mouth and tongue, kissing her gently all over her face, then
her neck, until he finally found her breasts. When he felt the
urgency of her body beneath him, he sped up to match her
thrusts. He could feel her body stiffening and knew she was
ready. He increased his momentum and felt her body lift
from the bed just as his own world exploded before him.
They were together physically, yet lost for the moment in
their own separate bliss.
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"Oh yes," she said when their spasms had subsided and
they were lying together on the bed. She stretched, and he
watched as her lithe, young body went taut, her breasts flat-
tening on her chest. And then she laid one hand on his belly
and began to make circles.
"It's too bad," she said.
"It's too bad we didn't just meet by accident in Wash-
ington and find each other. It's too bad that this isn't all that
we have between us," she said, playing with the hair on his
chest.
"Stephanie—" he started to say.
"I'm getting too serious, huh?" she jumped in. "Don't
worry, Nick, I don't expect anything from you after all this is
over. All I ever expected from you was to find my father's
killer. '
never promised—"
"I know, I know," she assured him. "Don't worry about
it. " She leaned over, and flattening her breasts on his chest,
kissed his mouth lightly. "I'm going to take a shower. "
He watched her as she got up off the bed and walked to the
bathroom, enjoying the way the muscles in her sleek but-
tocks clenched and unclenched as she walked. When she
closed the door behind her, he sat up and swung his feet to
the floor. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the phone
and, on impulse, picked it up.
"Desk. "
"This is Mr. Genova in room nine-fourteen.
"Yes, sir," the clerk said in careful, precise English.
"I would like a car and a driver in front of the hotel at
seven-thirty to take myself and a guest to the finest restaurant
in the area."
"Of course, sir. "
"Will you make a reservation for two, please?"
"It would be our pleasure," the clerk said.
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"Thank you. "
"You are quite welcome, sir. "
139
Nick checked his watch and saw that they had almost three
hours before it would be time to go downstairs and meet the
car. He heard the shower running behind the bathroom door.
He had intended to take a shower anyway, so why wait?
He opened the bathroom door and stepped into the steamy
room. There were not only rivulets of water running down
the mirror, but down the walls as well.
Stephanie heard him and called out, "Hey, what's the
matter? Can't you wait your turn?"
He pulled aside the shower curtain and Stephanie looked
at him, holding the soap in front of her with both hands.
Water and soap suds were running down her body. Her
breasts gleamed as if they were made of marble.
"I thought we were supposed to be partners," he said.
"Don't you want to share your shower with me?"
'Why not?" she asked. "I've shared everything else with
you, haven't I?" She extended her hand to him, holding the
soap, and said/" Why not my soap?"
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THIRTY
Stephanie was very curious when, at seven o'clock, Nick
told her to get dressed, they were going out.
"You'll see, " he said. s 'I've got a car that will be waiting
for us in front of the hotel in a half an hour. "
"Half an hour," she cried, leaping off the bed, where
they had spent the better part of two hours after they had got-
ten out of the shower. S 'You don't give a girl much time to
get ready. "
"You look fine," he said. "Just throw something on."
' 'Sure," she said, running to the bathroom, S 'throw some-
thing on, the man says!"
He heard the shower start running again, and he was sure
she would be at least an hour getting ready. But she surprised
him by being ready when he was, and they went downstairs.
There was a large, black limo waiting for them in front of
the hotel, with a uniformed driver leaning against it. When
he saw them, he straightened up and opened the back door.
"I'm impressed," Stephanie said. "When did you have
time to do this?"
' i I made time."
Ihey got into the car and the driver walked around it, got
behind the wheel, and started off.
' 'You're being very mysterious about this," she said.
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"Does it have something to do with—
"You'll see what it has to do with," he said. He took her
hand, and from the corner of his eye saw that this surprised
her—as everything he had done since they arrived in Rome
had been surprising her.
They drove for about twenty minutes, and then the driver
stopped the car in front of a well-lit, busy restaurant.
"Here?" she said, looking the place over through the
window.
"You want to eat, don't you?"
"Is that all we're doing, going out to dinner?" she asked.
"What did you expect?"
She stared at him speechlessly for a few moments and then
shook her head and said, "I don't know."
"Well, come on, then," he said. The driver had opened
the door, and Nick stepped out and then reached in to help
Stephanie.
Nick told the driver he could go, but he was to come back
for them in about an hour and a half.
' 'An hour and a half?" Stephanie repeated. "We'll be
lucky to get a table in an hour. "
"I've made reservations?' he assured her.
"You're full of surprises. aren't you?"
"Let's go before they give our table away," he said, tak-
ing her by the elbow.
When they got inside, the maitre d' asked if he could be of
assistance, first in Italian, and then in English.
"We have a reservation," Nick said. "Mr. and Mrs.
Genova."
He was aware of Stephanie's short intake of breath, but ig-
nored it and ushered her ahead of him as they were shown to
their table.
"A drink?" he asked her.
"Red wine," she said. He told the waiter to bring her a
red wine and a bourbon for him.
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When the waiter left, she said, s 'l didn't see you sign in
this afternoon. Mr. and Mrs.?"
"Do you object?"
s •m just surprised, that's all, " she said, but he could see
that her surprise was rapidly turning into puzzlement.
During dinner, he didn't talk about his assignment once.
Instead, he asked her about herself and what she planned to
do when she got back home. He asked her about her child-
hood, her parents, anything but what had been happening to
them the past week.
"Nick?" she asked over dessert.
s Yes
"What are you planning to do?"
"Now?" he asked. "Why, enjoy the dessert, and the de-
lightful company. "
"No, I mean about your assignment. "
s 'My assignment," he repeated. "I don't even want to
think about that now. Did you know that you're very
beautiful?' '
She frowned and said, "That's very nice to hear, Nick,
but don't you think you should be thinking about-—
"Coffee," he said.
"More coffee," he said, signaling the waiter.
"Nick—
"Stephanie, I don't want to talk about business tonight, "
he said, cutting her off. "In fact, I think I'll have some bour-
bon in that coffee. "
As he turned to look for the waiter again, he could actually
feel her eyes on him, puzzling, wondering what was wrong.
Actually, he was enjoying himself. During the last few
hours with her, he had relaxed—not totally, but to a certain
degree. And she certainly was an enthusiastic bed partner.
But what else was she?
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THIRTY-ONE
When they got back to the hotel, Nick carried on the drunk
act that he had started in the restaurant. Stephanie had had to
go outside and ask the driver to come in and help bring Nick
to the car. Now she had a bellboy help her get him up to the
room, and then tipped him generously.
"Nick, I don't know what's gotten into you," she said.
She and the bellboy had dumped him on the bed, and now
she began to undress him. As her hands tugged at his pants
and came into contact with his flesh, there was a reaction that
was unavoidable. Surely, a truly drunken man would not
have reacted in the same way—would he?—but he hoped
that the question would not enter her mind, as well.
"You are a beautiful man, Nick," she said after she had
taken off his pants and shirt. "Even when you're drunk. "
Her hand plucked at the waistband of his shorts, •as if she
were trying to make up her mind. "Very hard to resist, " she
was saying, and then she tCX)k hold of the waistband and
pulled the shorts down to his ankles, and off.
He felt her hands on his erection then, and moaned for ef-
feet. Her hands disappeared and he dared not open his eyes
to see what she was doing, but the rustle of her clothing on
her flesh told him that she was undressing.
' 'You're in my power, ' ' she whispered, and then he heard
her giggle and felt his penis slide between her breasts. He
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145
NICK CARTER
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NICK CARTER
moaned again, and this time it was half for effect and half in-
voluntary. Then suddenly he felt the warmth of her mouth
claim him and he gave in entirely.
He was very glad he had decided to leave Hugo and Pierre
behind when they went to dinner. She had removed his
shoulder holster along with the rest of his clothes, but he didn't
want her to have to fiddle with Pierre. The last thing he
needed was for her to set the little gas bomb off by accident.
"Nick," she said. and suddenly her mouth was too busy
for her to speak. He could hold back no longer and groaned
out loud as he climaxed.
When she freed his penis, he heard her say, "Oh, Nick,
even half asleep
and she ran her hands over his belly
and chest. "Sleep," she whispered in his ear. "Sleep,
darling. "
He felt her rise from the bed and heard her walk away. He
chanced opening his eyes and saw her putting on her robe.
After that, she went into the bathroom and closed the door
behind her. He wished she had at least put his shorts back on,
because he was starting to feel a draft.
She was in the bathroom for about twenty minutes, and
when the door opened, he closed his eyes again. When she
came out, he was lying in exactly the same position.
"Still asleep, Nick?" he heard her call out. Then, "Yup,
he's still asleep. Too bad. "
He felt her walk past his feet, then felt her again as she sat
down at the head of the bed.
Right by the phone!
He risked opening his eyes and saw hef sitting with her
back to him, apparently studying the phone. She's wonder-
ing whether she should make a call or not, he thought. He
continued to watch her back, and then she shrugged and
reached for the phone.
She told the operator she wanted to call the United States,
and gave a number. Apparently the operator asked if she
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147
wanted to call person-to-person, because she said, "That's
ali right, operator. There should only be one person there to
answer it. "
There was short silence. She turned once to look at him,
and then she started talking.
"Yes, it's me," she said into the phone, and he opened
his eyes again.
"No, it's not going right," she said. "It went wrong in
Geneva, and he's been acting funny since we got to Rome. "
She listened a few seconds and then said, "Right now he's
passed out on the .
on his bed.Ae took me to dinner,
drank too much, and never once mentioned his assign-
ment." Silence, and then, "I know it's not like him. I'm
worried. . . Of course I'm not getting involved.
Well, you better do something. He doesn't seem at all inter-
ested in finishing this thing. .
No, I don't know what
he's interested in. .
. yes, I'll stay with him. I've got to get
off now. I'll keep in touch. Good-bye."
She hung up, and he closed his eyes because he knew she
would automatically turn around and look to see if he was
listening. She had taken a big chance making that call from
his room, but he must have totally confused her and she had
needed guidance immediately.
But whose?
He finally allowed her to rouse him sufficiently to maneu-
ver him underneath the covers with her, whereupon she
draped a silky thigh and a warm arm over him and went to
sleep.
Sleep eluded Nick. The phone call was bothering him. He
wished he'd been able to hear something of the conversation
from the other end. He didn't even know whether she had
been talking to a man or a woman—although it seemed un-
likely that it would have been a woman.
He put one arm around Stephanie's waist and she snug-
gled in closer, moaning a bit in her sleep. He was sorry she
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had turned out to be rm)re than she seemed. but he wasn 't go-
ing to let it keep him awake any longer.
The next move was either hers or whoever she had spoken
to on the phone, and he doubted they would waste much
time. He wanted to be '+ell-rested come morning. and he had
to make sure he remembered that he had been drunk the night
before.
Stephanie had come to bed totally naked, and now she was
rubbing up against him in her sleeps eliciting the natural re-
sponse from Nick.
You're in a drunken stupor. he told himself. but there was
a certain part of his body that refused to be convinced and
which didn't care what she was beyond the fact that she was
a lovely female and close by.
It took all of Nick's willpower for him to turn over so that
they were cheek to cheek. When he was comfortable, he
forced himself to go to sleep.
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THIRTY-TWO
The next morning Nick made all of the appropriate noises,
and Stephanie recommended that he take a shower. She gave
him five minutes alone in the bathroom, and then joined
him.
"You seem much better now," she said as she stepped
into the shower with him and ran her hands over his body.
"I'm feeling better, all right," he said, returning the fa-
vor, "but not as good as you feel."
They splashed around until they were both satisfied, then
cleaned each other off and stepped out.
"I'll dry you first," she said.
"Let's dry ourselves, or we're liable to get all involved
again," he suggested.
She smiled and said, "All right."
"I'm sorry about last night," he said.
"You deserved it, I guess," she replied.
"Well, after being in jail and all, I guess you just wanted
to relax.
She was handing him an excuse on a silver platter, so he
decided to take it.
*You might be right," he agreed.
"Anyway, I enjoyed myself."
"I'm glad."
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"E.sFecially after got back. • • she added with a sly
He shott with one leg in his pants and one leg out
and said. "Did I miss something?"
' 'Oh, I think you enjoyed it—or maybe you thought it was
a '€Rt dream.
"l haven't had a dream in—-oh. weeks now. • • Nick
said. finishing with his pants and putting on a shirt.
shall do today?" she asked, dropping her towel
and &nding over her suitcase to find something to wear.
Eyeing her smooth buttocks. he said. "l just got an urge to
go sight-seeing.
She looked over her shoulder at him and grinned, then
started getting dressed.
"Why don-t we have breakfast and then go for a walk?"
he suggested. "Maybe something will come up. "
"All right," she agreed.
He finished dressing and said. "I'll go doun to the hotel
dining room and get us a table. I'll meet you down there
"About a half an hour." she finished. "A girl's got to
look right."
heard that," he said. "Ciao."
He left the and wondered if she was making another
phone call. Probably not. One was chancy enough. and
everyhing appeared to have said. He wondered when
he would see the result ofthat call. and in what form it would
He grabbed a table in the dining room and ordered a pot of
coffee to work on while he waited for her.
He had ordered a second pot by the time she finally
showed up. and he smiled at her as she sat down. He said,
"It was worth the wait—again.
She touched his hand and said, "You're so under-
standing."
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"That's me," he said. "Want a menu?"
151
"No," she said. "I'll take the continental breakfast.
Might as well stick with a good thing."
"Right."
Nick called the waiter over and ordered the same thing for
both of them.
"You got a call while I was dressing," she said after he
had ordered.
"I did?" he asked. "From whom?"
"A man. He wouldn't teli me who he was, but he gave me
a number to give you and asked that you call him back as
soon as possible. "
"Do you remember the number?"
"I have it written down," she said, opening her purse.
"Wait," he said as he spotted the waiter returning with
their juice.
She continued rummaging through her purse while the
waiter put down theirjuice and promised that their breakfasts
would be along very shortly.
"Thank you," Nick said. The man executed a short bow,
cast an admiring glance Stephanie's way, and then left.
"Here's the phone number, " she said, handing him a slip
of paper.
He read the number, then folded it and put it away in his
pocket.
V 'Is it important?" she asked, contriving to look innocent.
"It could be," he said, noncommittally, "It could very
well be.
Actually, it was all getting out of hand now, because the
number on the slip of paper was a number that Stephanie
Clark—DIA employee or not—should havenever had.
It was a direct "safe" line to David Hawk.
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THIRTY-THREE
After breakfast, Nick suggested that Stephanie stay in the
dining room and wait for him while he went up to the room.
"Are you going to return that call?"
"Yes," he said, standing up. "I'll be back in a little
while. Have some more coffee. "
She nodded and he left the dining room and went up to his
room. He debated using the phone or converting the hotel
television with the equipment from his suitcase's false bot-
tome He opted for the television set and in a short time was
looking at the face of David Hawk.
"Well, N3," Hawk said, "I was beginning to get curious.
I assume you've been busy. "
"Yes, sir, " Nick said. He reported to his superior every-
thing that had occurred since they'd last spoken, but he made
no mention of the fact that Stephanie claimed he'd received a
phone message to call Hawk's private number.
"You have been busy," Hawk said when Nick's report
was finished. "l suppose you would like me to check on
likely people Dr. Lector might want to see in Rome?"
"Yes, sir," Nick said. "That would help."
they will be alive when you arrive," Hawk
said. "Do you believe that the man in the barn was our
killer?"
have my doubts, sir. "
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"Oh? What indication have you had otherwise?"
"None, sir."
Hawk looked bored and said, "Instinct?"
"Yes, sir. "
"I can't very well argue with that, N3," Hawk said.
"We'll just have to wait and see if you are right. I presume
you are maintaining your level of caution. "
"Yes, sir."
"Is Miss Clark still with you?"
"Yes, she is."
"Has she been a hindrance?"
"No, sir. As I outlined, it was she who was instrumental
in getting me out of jail in Geneva. "
"Of course. Is the, uh, 'round peg' safe?"
If it wasn't, I would have told you right off, Nick thought,
but he nodded and told his boss, "Yes, sir, quite safe. "
"Very good, All right, N3. Try and keep in more frequent
contact from here on in. This 'round peg' you are carrying is
quite important to us. and to other countries as well, if they
were to get their hands on it.
"I'm fully aware of that, sir. "
"Good?' Hawk said, and broke contact.
Nick dismantled the communications device thoughtfully.
Not one mention of a phone call, and Hawk had asked if
Miss Clark was still with him. lfhe had spoken to her that
morning, he would have known without asking.
Stephanie had lied, but where had she gotten that phone
number—through the DIA computer?
By all rights, he should have mentioned to Hawk the fact
that his number was no longer private, but he'd held off and
would later plead that it had been a decision made, again, by
instinct.
He put his equipment back into the false bottom of his
suitcase, closed and locked it. He walked to the window and
looked down at the street in front of the hotel. Stephanie
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knew she was lying, so how would she react when he made
no mention of it? And why would she lie so blatantly, know-
ing that he'd find out almost immediately.
There was only one answer to that question, and he left his
position by the window and looked around the room very
quickly. Her suitcase was gone, and her clothing had not
been unpacked. He hurried down to the dining room, know-
ing now that he was right. As he expected, she was not there
waiting for him.
He went to the desk next.
"Excuse me.
The clerk looked up and said, "Yes?"
"I'm Mr. Genova, room nine-fourteen. "
"Yes, sir. How may we serve you?"
"Can you tell me if my wife checked out?"
wife, sir?" the clerk asked, looking puzzled.
"Your . .
"l know it sounds strange, but could you check, please?"
"Of course, sir, right away," the clerk said, looking at
Nick strangely. The man could not be Italian, he thought,
losing his own wife.
And then he found it.
"Yes, Mr. Genova, " the man said, bringing the registra-
tion card over for Nick to look at. "She checked out only
moments ago. "
"I ee," Nick said, glancing at the card. "If she had checked
her bag prior to that, where would she have done so?"
"There," the clerk said, pointing to a window to his right.
"Thank you," Nick said, and walked over to the man
standing behind the window. Remembering that he was in
Italy, he decided that the best way for the man to remember
Stephanie was to describe her. No Italian man could forget
her once he had seen her.
"Oh, si, signor," the man said, "she was here only min-
utes ago. Your wife, signor, she is—how do you say it in
English—very lovely. ' '
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"Yes. thank you," Nick said. "Did you see where she
"Regretfully, no, signors" the man said. "But perhaps
the doorman can help you."
"Undoubtedly." Nick said. "Thank you again." He
tipped the man generously and went outside to talk to the
doorman.
"Si, signor, the doorman said, fondling the money Nick
had given him. "Your wife, she got into a taxi."
"Did you hear her tell the driver where she wanted to
"I am sorry, signor, no. I was called away. .
"That's all right," Nick told him. "Thank you."
He went back into the hotel to the bar and ordered a bour-
bone He thought about the developments of the morning.
First she told him a blatant lie, and all the while she had in-
tended to leave afterward. That was why she had taken extra
time in the room, to pack, and then to check her bags before
meeting him in the dining room.
Now she was gone, but where. and to do what? Nick de-
cided that he would contact Hawk again that evening, and
when he did. he would ask him to check further into
Stephanie Clark's background. An identification card was
easy to forge, and perhaps he had accepted her too readily in
the beginning as his dead friend's daughter.
He was convinced that the courier killer was still out there
somewhere. and who said it had to be a man?
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THIRTY-FOUR
Nick was at loose ends for the remainder of the day. As far
as his assignment was concerned, he was helpless to take any
action without further information. He decided to try and
find the cab that had picked up Stephanie that morning and
then find out where it had taken her.
In theory, this was simple detective legwork, since the
same fleet of cabs serviced the hotel, but with the number of
cabs, it still took a good portion of the day to find the right
driver.
Several times he had been asked for a photograph of his
' 'wife," but he had to be satisfied with simply describing her
to the men who, being Italian, immediately wished they had
picked her up.
Except for the last one. He recognized Stephanie's de-
scription right away.
"Beautiful," the man said, drawing the word out as if
very proud of his English.
' 'Do you rernember where you ttX)k her?"
' 'Of course, signor."
"Good, take rne there."
"Your wife, eh?" the man said, starting the car. Obvious-
ly he assumed that Stephanie was a cheating wife who was
about to be found by her cuckolded husband. 'SJ will take
you there, signor. Have no fear."
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Nick half-expected the man to take him to the airport, but
it soon became obvious that he was not. They drove for
about a half an hour and then pulled up in front of a small
hotel.
"Here, signor," the man said, turning around with a wide
grin.
"Right there," the driver said, pointing. "l stayed to, eh,
' the man said, stopping to give a "who
watch her—
wouldn't?" shrug, "—and she went right into that hotel."
"All right," Nick said. He-paid the fare and tipped the
man. As he got out of the car, the driver called out to him.
"I hope you catch her, signor!"
Nick waved and walked toward the hotel, then veered off.
Across the street, he spotted a small cafe with outdoor tables
and decided to have a cup of coffee and wait a while. He still
had a few hours to kill.
Settled at the table with a cup of brandy-laced coffee, he
wished he could take a chance and walk into the lobby, but
there was always the possibility that she would be coming
out of an elevator or the dining room and spot him. He didn't
want to spook her. He knew where she was—hopefully—
and that was good enough for now. He would sit there for a
few hours and hope to spot her coming out. No woman could
stay in a hotel room in Italy for very long without having to
come out for air. If she didn't come out tonight, he'd go back
to his own hotel and contact Hawk for the information he
needed. Finding Dr. Lector was still top pr•iority, but if
Stephanie Clark turned out to be an imposter, he could come
back for her.
After waiting a couple of hours, Nick was about to give it
up when the front door of the hotel opened and out walked
Stephanie. He sat back down and watched her as she made
her way down the street at a leisurely pace. She wasn 't carry-
ing any luggage, so presumably she was just going for a
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walk, or for dinner. but there was no longer any doubt that
she was staying at that hoteL
He waited until she had walked out of sight, then caught a
taxi and tM)k it back to his hotel.
It was time to get in touch with Hawk again—and get back
to work,
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THIRTY-FIVE
"When I said to keep in touch more frequently, N3, I
didn't expect you to take me so literally," Hawk said when
Nick established contact.
"There have been other developments," Nick said.
Such
Nick told Hawk that Stephanie Clark had checked herself
out of the hotel and disappeared.
"She wasn't forced?" Hawk asked.
"No, not according to my information. "
"Well, then, if she's left of her own free will, she must
have given up her thirst for revenge," Hawk suggested.
"Unless she believes that the man you killed in Geneva was
her father's killer, in which case she's satisfied. Either way,
she is out of your hair now. "
"That's one way of looking at it," Nick said. "In any
case, I'd like to check into her background. I want to be sure
that this girl is who she says she is. "
checked into her background when you first mentioned
her to me, N-3," Hawk said patiently. "The girl appears to
be genuine. ' '
"Appears to be?"
Hawk was beginning to get impatient now.
s 'A poor choice of words on my part," he said. "The girl
is who she says she is. Now, I have that other information for
you, the names of the people to whom Dr. Lector might go
for help. "
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"All right," Nick said, and he listened while Hawk rat-
tled off three names and addresses, which he then wrote
down. Three more innocent people
'Now you can forget about Stephanie Clark and get to the
business at hand," Hawk finished.
"That's right," Nick agreed.
"I would tell you to stay in touch, but I'm afraid you
would be calling me in a few hours. "
"I'll get in touch when I've checked out these three
people. "
"Do you feel like you're getting closer to finding the good
doctor?" Hawk asked, uncharacteristically. It was the kind
of question someone would ask just to keep a conversation
going, Hawk had never had that problem-—or inclination—
before.
"No, sir, I don't," Nick answered honestly. "I don't feel
any closer than I did the day I left your office. "
"That's not very encouraging. "
Nick frowned and said, "You don't usually want encour-
aging news if there isn't any.
A shadow passed over Hawk's face and he said, "Of
course not," and broke contact.
The old man was acting strange, Nick thought as he dis-
mantled the TV device. In fact, everything about this case
was strange, and getting stranger by the second.
Nick was starting to feel very alone on this, as if he had
been hung out to dry—and he didn't like the feeling at all.
He checked the list of names and addresses given to him
by Hawk and figured he'd have to put himself in the hands of
some cab driver who knew the city well.
Nick still had the drawings he had found, supposedly
drawn by Anton Lector, and was now wondering if he would
find more of them at one of the locations.
More and more, it seemed to him that someone was leav-
ing him the drawings, like a roadmap . .
but to where?
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THIRTY-SIX
He grabbed a taxi in front of the hotel and gave the driver
the first address, mispronouncing the street name. The driver
shook his head, corrected him, and then started off.
The address turned out to be an apartment building, a far
cry from what the places had looked like in Paris and Gene-
va. Lector seemed to have a higher class of friends in Rome.
Nick went inside and was approached by a uniformed
doorman.
"Can I help you, sir?" the man asked in English, which
puzzled Nick a bit. How had the man known that he spoke
English and not Italian—or even Swahili? Why English?
"I'd like to see Antonio Bellomo, please."
"A moment," the doorman said. He walked to a small
desk where he picked up a phone, dialed a few numbers,
spoke shortly, then nodded. He hung up and approached
Nick.
"You can go up, sir," the man infor'med him. "Room
eleven-thirty. "
"Thank you. 'i
The man keyed the elevator for him and when the doors
closed, Nick could see the cab sitting out front, waiting for
him to come back down.
When the elevator got to the eleventh floor and the doors
opened, Nick didn't step out right away. He waited, then
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took out Wilhelmina and sprang into the hall in a crouch.
He was alone.
Feeling a little foolish—but still unable to shake the feel-
ing that had made him draw his gun in the first place—he put
his gun away and started down the hall to room eleven-
thirty. He rang the and when there was no answer, tried
the knob. It turned easily and he pushed the door open.
Drawing his gun again, he stelWi carefully into the room.
The drapes at the window were drawn and the room was in
semidarkness. The living room was modernly and expen-
sively furnished and amazingly clean, as if it were a model.
He went through the rest of the apartment—a kitchen and
two bedrooms—and found the same Spartan conditions.
Except for the trash bucket in one of the bedrooms. There
were several pieces of crumpled paper in it, and Nick knew
what he would find when he picked them up. There were
three of them, and when he smoothed them out on a dresser
top, he found that here were three more drawings to add to
his collection. One of them made it very plain what his next
move would be. It showed two stick figures in front of the
Washington Monument.
He folded the drawings lengthwise and tucked them into
his jacket pocket, still holding his gun in his right hand. It
wasn't until he left the apartment that he put the gun away.
In the elevator, he wondered if he should follow the direc-
tion dictated by the drawing, or go to the other two addresses
first to check them out, also.
When the elevator doors on the main floor, the
first thing he noticed was the absence of the uniformed
man. He looked behind the desk and saw that, wherever the
man had gone, he had left his hat behind.
As he walked toward the front doors, he looked out and
noticed the second thing that was out of whack.
His cab was gone.
He had instructed the man to wait and had paid him extra
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money to do so with the promise of more. No cabbie, no
matter what country he was in, would give up the promise of
a big fare.
Unless he was forced to.
Nick put his hand on the door, but didn't push it open. He
peered through the glass and looked up and down the block
as far as he could see, then examined the buildings across the
street. There could have been a man with a rifle in any of the
windowss just waiting for him to come out.
Suddenly, as if to prove that point, he heard a crunching
sound, and a bullet punched a clean hole in the glass just to
his left and level with his head. The slug imbedded itself in
the wall behind him. Nick ducked behind the only cover he
had in the small entry foyer, the doorman's desk. He didn't
pull his gun out, because he had nothing to shoot at.
Another bullet came through the glass, only not too clean-
ly this time. The entire top portion of the glass door starred,
and then a third bullet came through and shattered it into
countless pieces.
The rifleman continued to bombard the foyer with bullets,
but did not get nearly as many ricochets as he might have
hoped for, and none of the ones he did get came anywhere
near Nick.
When the firing finally ceased, Nick stuck his head up
above the desk and across the street again, but he
couldn't pick out the window the man was firing from.
There wasn't a shard of glass left in the door, but even
though Nick could have run out of the foyer without having
to stop to open the door, he knew he would be cut down be-
fore he got ten feet. There was no cover in front of the apart-
ment, and he'd be out in the open for much too long. He only
had one way out, and that was the elevator. Once he made it
to another floor. he could look for another way out of the
building.
It was about six feet to the elevator from the desk he was
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hiding behind, but the to the elevator was closed. He
would need the key to open it. and he searched behind the
desk until he found it. He took a moment to wonder why the
doorman—or the man posing as the doorman—had not taken
it with him.
Now that he had the key, he would have to run to the door,
insert the key in the control panel. and open the elevator door
without getting shot. He'd be out in the open for a matter of
seconds, but that would be plenty of time for the rifleman to
squeeze off a few shots.
As he shifted around behind the desk, he felt it move as he
leaned against it. Grasping the side of it, he pulled and found
that he was able to move it a few inches. The desk was not
very large and he was able to brace one hand against each
end of it. Holding it that way, he could drag it with him to the
elevator door. He would only have to stand up when he
reached the control board, revealing the upper portion of his
body. A smaller target, and a bigger chance for him to get
away with his life.
As soon as he started dragging the desk toward the dcx»r,
the rifleman opened up again, firing steadily. After a few
slugs had struck the front partition of the desk, one bullet hit
and went through, tugging at the sleeve of Nick's jacket. By
the time he reached the elevator doors portions of the desk
front were shredding.
Nick had the key clutched in his right fist, and now he
shifted it so that he was holding it ready to insert in the slot.
He waited a few moments to see if the firing would stop, and
then was rewarded when it did. No doubt the rifleman was
sighting in on that desk, waiting for him to stand up so that
he could fire a well-placed shot rather than trying to hit Nick
at random.
Nick waited as long as he could. and when the silence be-
gan to get deafening, he took a deep breath and stood up,
telling himself to ignore everything but the slot into which
the key fit.
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His hand darted forward and the key was swallowed as
clean as a whistle. His back muscles were clenched, waiting
for the slug to hit as he turned the key causing the elevator
door to slide As he threw himself through, a bullet en-
tered the elevator to keep him company, and then the door
slid shut and he was safe.
He rode the elevator to the third floor because it had al-
ready passed the second before he recovered enough to press
a button. As it came to a halt, he drew his gun. When the
door 0TEned, he repeated the sequence he had performed on
eleven with the same results. He was alone in the hall, but
this time he kept his gun handy while he looked for a
stairway.
He found one stairway, but it was in the front of the build-
ing. He didn't want to come out that way on the off chance
that the rifleman would be waiting for him. The other two
alternatives were that the man had either run across the street
to look for Nick in the building, or that he had given up and
left. Whatever the shooter had done after Nick entered the el-
evator, Nick wanted to find a side or a back way out of the
building, just to be on the safe side.
Nick walked back the way he had come and saw that the
elevator had stayed on the third floor. Jt was then that he real-
ized he still held the key to operate it. He the key
into a sand urn next to the elevator door and pushed it down
until it was buried, then went in search of his exit.
He finally found a freight elevator and pressed the down
button to see if it would respond. If it didn't, he'd have to
keep searching for a stairway, or else hope that the gunman
had left and use the front exit after all. As luck would have it,
the freight elevator resmjnded and he rode it down to the
main floor. There he found three different exits from the
buildin@, which meant that the killer, if he was a gambling
man, had one chance in three of picking the right door and
waiting for Nick to come out so he could finish his job.
Nick touched the silver tuhRS that were still in his jacket
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pocket, made his choice, 01Ened the door, and stepped out.
The door orEned onto a sidestreet, and across the street
was a park. There were some mothers watching their chil-
dren play and a few old people sitting on benches feeding
birds, butthere was no gunman in sight, and no bullets com-
ing his way.
Holstering Wilhelmina before someone could notice, he
walked to the corner and peered around the building. There
were a couple of police cars parked in front of the apartment
building, and in that moment Nick decided not to check out
the other two addresses. He was better off getting out of
Rome before he had more trouble with the plice. He was
tired of jails. He'd grab the earliest plane he could and head
to where the new drawings indicated Lector was headed.
Washington D.C.
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nnRTY-SEVEN
Back at the hotel he packed up and called the desk to tell
them to get his bill ready,
Then he thought about Stephanie.
He knew where she was, but should he just leave without
confronting her? According to Hawk, she was who she said
she was, Howard Clark's daughter, and Clark was his friend.
Did he owe it to Howard to get his daughter out of whatever
it was she had gotten herself into?
Nick called the airport and made reservations for two in
the names of Mr. and Mrs. Howard,
In the lobby, he settled his bill and then went outside and
had the doorman flag a cab for him. He stowed his suitcase in
the trunk and then gave the driver the address of the hotel
Stephanie was staying in.
"Wait for me," he instructed the driver when they pulled
up in front of the hotel, and then went inside to the front
desk.
"I'm looking for my wife, ' ' he told the man, who listened
to his sad story and nodded knowingly. Another cheating
wife, the clerk thought, and felt that it was his duty to help
his fellow man.
After Nick described Stephanie, the clerk's eye bright-
ened and he showed Nick the registration card. Stephanie
had registered as Mrs. S. Caner, which showed imagination
on her part.
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Armed with the room number, Nick took the elevator to
the correct floor and knocked on Stephanie's door. When she
asked who it was, he told her room service, and she opened
the door.
"Nick!" she said in surprise.
"Hello, Stephanie," he said. "Invite me in."
She stared at him with her mouth open, and he stepped in
past her. She shut the door and turned to face him, looking
uncertain.
"Nick, 1—
"Never mind,"
he told her. "Get packed, you're
checking out. "
"What——
"Don't ask questions, Stephanie. I've got reservations on
a plane that leaves in an hour. "
"W-where are we going?"
"We're going home—Mrs. Carter."
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THIRTY-EIGHT
Nick had come full circle—London, Paris, Geneva,
Rome, and now back to Washington. Maybe this was where
Lector was headed all along. Maybe he'd presented himself
to Hawk and was safe now.
Before he went to see Hawk, Nick had to make sure
Stephanie stayed where he put her. From the airport he made
a phone call and arranged for a place to leave her. Sandry
Triggs worked in AXE's archives section, and she and Nick
had an on-again, off-again thing going. He called her and
told her that he had something he would appreciate her
watching over. She promised to leave work and meet him at
her apartment in a half an hour.
"All right," he told Stephanie, "let's go."
"Where?" she asked, He'd left her sitting far enough
away from the phone to prevent her from hearing his conver-
sation, but close enough so that he could grab her if she tried
to get away.
"We're going to visit a friend of mine," he answered.
"Why are you treating me like a criminal?" she de-
manded. "We're back in Washington now, so why don't
you go home and let me do the same?"
s 'We may be home, but we're not finished yet, Ste-
phanie, " he said, pulling her along. "You've got a lot ofex-
plaining to do, and as soon as we get the time, you're going
to do it. "
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"I don't have to explain anything," she said.
"We'll see."
Outside D.C. International, they picked up a cab, dumped
the bags into the trunk, and Nick gave the driver Sandryis
address.
When they arrived, Nick allowed Stephanie to carry her
own bag, preferring not to have both of his hands full.
"Nick. this is ridiculous—
"I never knew a woman to travel as light as you do,
Stephanie," he said, interrupting her, "but then again, I
guess that would come in handy for fast checkouts, right?"
"I can explain—S'
"And you will," he said, "but later."
At Sandry's door, he rang the bell and the petite beauty
opened it, wearing a smile that disappeared when she saw
Stephanie.
"Nick," she said.
"Hi, Sandry," he said, kissing her cheek and ushering
Stephanie past her.
"Is this what you want me to keep an eye on?" Sandry
asked, shutting the door and turning to examine Stephanie,
who was doing some examining of her own.
"This is Stephanie Clark," Nick said. have some
things to do, Sandry, and I need to know that Stephanie will
still be here when I get back."
"I see," Sandry said. "I'm a baby-sitter."
"This is silly—
Stephanie started.
"That's right," Nick said. "I'm sure you girls will find a
lot to talk about. '9 He turned to Stephanie and said, "Sandry
has a black belt in karate, so I wouldn't try leaving until I get
back. "
She glared at him and he chucked her under the chin and
said, "Cheer up. I'll bring you some french fries.
"You know what you can do with your french fries, she
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THE DECOY HIT
said, and turned her back on him.
173
Sandry walked him to the door and said, "Thanks for the
promotion. "
"Well, you'd like to be a black belt in karate, wouldn't
you?" he asked her.
"You're going to owe me for this one, pal," she said,
digging her forefinger into his ribs.
"I always pay off. You know that."
"Dearly, this time."
He kissed her on the cheek and left, wondering how the
two women would get along.
He cabbed it to the Amalgamated Press and Wire Services
Building on Dupont Circle and took the elevator up to David
Hawk's office. He patted his pocket, making sure that he had
his "cigars" with him.
"This is unexpected," Hawk said as Nick entered his of-
fice. "Sit down, N3."
"A lot of things have been unexpected, sir," Nick said,
seating himself.
"Oh? Such as?"
"Such as you hanging me out to dry. "
"What does that mean, exactly?"
"l think you know."
Hawk leaned forward and said, "Suppose you enlighten
me, N3."
"First I think I should complete part of my assignment,"
Nick said.
"By all means."
From his pocket, Nick took the five silver tubes. He se-
lected the biggest of the five, leaned forward, and put it on
Hawk's desk.
"What's this?"
' '!'m delivering the 'round peg' to the 'round hole,' sir."
Nick explained. "Wasn't that what I was supposed to do?"
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Hawk studied Nick for a few moments. then leaned for-
ward wordlessly and picked up the silver tube.
"Yes. indeed. N3. that's what you were supposed to do.
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THIRTY-NINE
"That was not, however, the sum total of your assign-
ment," Hawk said.
"That was all I was told about, though," Nick pointed
out. "The rest I was supposed to figure out for myself,
' 'Correct.
"And I did. I was supposed to kill the person who has
been killing our couriers. "
"Which you did, in Switzerland.
"I killed one of them," Nick said, and Hawk raised his
eyebrows.
"Are you suggesting that there were two killers?"
"No, sir," Nick said. "I'm not stopping at just two."
"Then how many?"
"Who knows?"
"Somebody does. s'
'Right. "
Hawk rubbed his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his
right hand and said, s 'N3, you are beginning to make my
head spin. If you have something to say, then say it."
"Let me get one thing straight in my mind first, sir. "
"And what's that?"
"Was there ever a Dr. Lector?"
"Of course. "
' 'And he's been under wraps all this time?"
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"Under wraps," Hawk said, mulling the phrase over, and
then said, "Yes. 'S
' 'Here in Washington?"
"In a safe place."
"And there actually is a 'round peg' that has to be deliv-
ered to him?"
"It's already been delivered, thanks to you. "
"Ah," Nick said. "l was the decoy. While the killer—or
killers—were chasing me all over Europe, the real courier
was delivering the 'round peg.' '
'Correct. "
"Well, then, that part of the assignment was accom-
plished. "
"Yes. There was a vital piece of information that Dr. Lec-
tor needed to continue his research, and he now has it.
Whoopee
"l sense sarcasm in your tone, N3," Hawk said, not with-
out a bit of the same.
"Maybe that's because I don't like being used as a decoy
without being told .
. sir."
"Are you suggesting that I clear my decisions with you
before I make them, N3?"
"Not at all, sir."
"In that case, I decided that you would make a more ef-
fective decoy if you were not aware that you were a decoy.
That, I believe, was my right as your superior. "
"Yes, sir."
"Do you have something else you want to discuss?"
"Just some drawings anda couple of dead people, Nick
said.
"Drawings?"
"Yes, my roadmap," Nick said. He took all of the draw-
ings out of his pocket and tossed them on the desk. "You'll
see that as I went along, the drawings became more and more
flagrant." He smoothed one out and said, "Here's one
where the Colosseum figures prominently, which led me to
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THE DECOY HIT
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Rome. And here's the last one," he said, smoothing another
out, "where you can clearly make out the Washington
Monument.
Hawk leaned forward and threw a glance at the drawings,
saying, "Yes, I see."
"You had somebody ahead of me all along, leaving these
drawings for me to follow—and it must have been someone
good.
' 'You are not the only competent agent in this agency,
N3," Hawk reminded Nick.
"l know that," Nick said. "Yes, sir, I know that very
well, but let's talk a little about two dead people in
Switzerland.
Hawk pursed his lips and built a little steeple from his
fingertips, and that steeple seemed to be commanding all of
his attention at the moment.
Nick Carter stood up; he was becoming too agitated to re-
main seated. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this
way about the old man. He usually went along with every-
thing and anything tossed his way by David Hawk, but the
death of a couple of innocent people—well, he was having a
little problem keeping that down.
S 'People die in our business, Nick," Hawk said. "That's
not something I should have to explain to you. "
"No, it isn't, sir. You're right about that, but these were
two innocent people—unless there is still something I don't
know," Nick added.
"You are correct again, N3," Hawk said, dropping his
hands to the desk top and looking at Nick now. "All of the
people you met—the father and daughter in London, and the
two people in Switzerland, who you didn't get a chance to
meet—were all agents. 's
"So they knew what was going on, t(X)," Nick said. "I
was the only one in the dark, right?"
"No one knew all of what was going on," Hawk said,
"except for me. Everyone had his or her job to do. "
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'Which was to keep me running around in circles, stalked
by a killer, until he caught me and I killed him."
"Yes."
"And what if he had killed me?"
"Then I would have been very wrong about you,
Nick."
"So what happened in Rome?"
"You will have to explain that."
Nick told Hawk about going to the apartment of Antonio
Bellomo and finding the drawing, but no Bellomo, and then
being shot at when he got downstairs.
"They knew I was going to be there."
"You might have been followed. "
"Or your man might have been followed when he went to
place the drawings. "
"That would take more than one person," Hawk
observed.
"Which means 19m right. There might be a killer, but
whoever it is, has help.
"Like the man in Switzerland. It seems—-" Nick started,
then stopped and stood there, frowning.
"Finish your thought. N3. "
"It just seems to me that nobody tried quite hard enough
to kill me."
s 'I see," Hawk said. "You are dissatisfied with the oppo-
sition's actions. "
"In that respect, I am," Nick said. "I think maybe they
believed in my assignment as much as I did. "
"Which means?"
"Which means that they not only wanted what I was car-
rying, they wanted Anton Lector, too. So everybody has
been stringing each other along, except for me. "
"You had to look like you really believed in what you
were doing, N3. I thought that would be the best way to play
it."
"All right," Nick said, and then he decided to sit down.
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"What about Stephanie Clark? What's her role in all of
"An unscheduled player."
"Yes, but she knew things she shouldn't have known,"
Nick said.
"For instance?"
It was then that Nick toid Hawk that his "safe" line was
no longer safe.
"That is disconcerting," Hawk admitted. "Why didn't
you mention that to me when you contacted me?"
"I thought she might be working for you," Nick said
without hesitation. s 'I didn't want to tip off either one of you
that I suspected anything. "
"It might have been easier if you had, but there's no point
in going over what is already done." He opened his center
drawer and took out a large brown envelope.
"I had a man go to Howard Clark's home and he came
back with this. " Hawk held up a photo. "It's a photograph
of his daughter, Stephanie. " Handing it to Nick, he said, "Is
this the girl?"
Nick took the five-by-seven photo and examined it.
showed a lovely blonde girl in a bikini that showed off her
excellent figure. The face was not entirely clear, but it
looked like the girl he knew asStephanie Clark.
"You couldn't come up with a better picture?"
"There were others when she was much younger, but this
one apm:ared to be the most recent. "
"Did you check further with the DIA?"
"Yes. They insist that no one has been using their ma-
chines without authority, but our computer people tell me
that a knowledgeable person can do a lot of damage by sim-
ply using a telephone. "
"He'd have to know certain codes, though, wouldn't
"They would have to be armed with certain knowledge,
yes," Hawk admitted.
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"What about their machine having my name?"
"Again, denied by the DIA, but our people tell me that the
DIA computer could very well have computed your next
move, predicting where you would go next."
"You mean I've been matching wits with a computer?"
Nick asked.
"It seems likely."
The idea of matching wits With a machine did not bother
Nick so much as the possibility that he had been coming off
second best in the contest.
Nick held the photograph up again and examined it as
closely as he could. The girl in the picture was smiling; she
had long blonde hair and well-rounded breasts that were
barely covered by a skimpy bikini top. The bottom of the
bathing suit was also brief, revealing quite a bit of anatomy
that would not otherwise be seen outside of an intimate
situation.
Which Nick, of course, had experienced with Stephanie
Clark.
"I can't get a close enough look here," Nick said. "I'd
like to go down to the lab and have them blow this up for
me. "
"By all means, if it will answer the question once and for
all," Hawk said. "Let me know the results as soon as you
get them. "
"Yes, sir," Nick said, getting up. "Shouldn't take t(X)
long. "
He left his superior's office and took the elevator down to
the lab, where he handed the photo over to a technician. He
asked for two blowups, one of the girl's upper torso, and one
of her lower.
"This won't be difficult to take at all,"
the technician
said, smiling. He told Nick to wait outside while he took the
photo into the darkroom.
Nick sat down and examined his feelings about being used
as an unwitting decoy, Facing it realistically, he had no beef.
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He was one of the pawns and Hawk was the man who made
the moves. That was the way this game went. As far as the
dead people in Switzerland were concerned, as long as they
were players, too, Nick could live with their deaths.
Whoever the courier killer was, he or she had had at least
one helper—the man he had killed in the barn outside of Ge-
neva. There had to be more than that, though. When the as-
signment started, he had been told that there was "some-
one" killing American couriers, but now it seemed
possible—and even likely—that there was a "team" of kill-
ers. Still, every team had a coach, and that was the person
Nick now had to concern himself with.
The technician came out with two damp blowups of the
five-by-seven and handed them over.
"I hope you don't mind, but I made myself about a dozen
copies," the man said.
"Thanks," Nick said, accepting the blowups and re-
claiming the original.
One photo showed the face and upper body, which were
now easily identifiable as those of Stephanie Clark.
Unless you looked very close.
The eyes, Nick noticed, were not quite the same, although
he couldn't pinpoint what the difference was.
The other blowup was of the lower portion of the girl's
body, cut off at the knees, though. Still, for someone who
had been to bed with the girl, this part of her body was more
easily recognizable.
Nick put the blowups down and put the five-by-seven into
his pocket. He said to the technician, "Call David Hawk and
tell him 19m on my way to Sandry Triggs' apartment. I want
a team to meet me there as soon as possible. Got it?"
' 'I've got it—" the man said, but he had no time to say
anything further, because Nick was already gone.
The decoy pan of the assignment was over. It was time to
end the other part, as well.
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FORTY
Nick tryok an AXE car and drove to Sandry Triggs' apart-
ment as quickly as possible. He had unwittingly—and prob-
ably needlessly—placed Sandry's life in jeopardy, and he
howd he could get there in time to undo it.
He parked illegally in front of the apartment house and
rushed in. He waited impatiently for the elevator, and when
it came, he catapulted into it and punched the button for
Sandry'% floor. When he got to her floor, he hadn't gone half
the distance from the elevator to the apartment before he re-
ajized that the apartment door was open.
He try»k out his gun and entered the apartment warily, but
he knew in his gut that the place was empty.
"Shit," he said quietly.
The apartment was not in a state of disarray, so it did not
appear that there had been any kind of a struggle.
He walked through the apartment just as a matter of form,
but it was empty, am} there was still no indication that any-
one had been taken out in a struggle.
He heard footsteps running down the hall and turned in
time to greet an AXE team as they came through the door.
Out of three men, he recognized one, a youngster named
Ellis.
"Slow down, Ellis," he said. "We're try) late."
"For what?" the kid asked.
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"Nobody home. "
"Should there have been?"
Nick ncxlded and Ellis turned to the other two men and
said, "Look around."
"Do you know Sandry?" Nick asked.
"I've seen her," Ellis replied. "Cute little thing, right?"
"That's right," Nick said.
"This is her place, huh?"
Nick nodded, holding his gun at his side and glancing
around the room in annoyance. Just out of a habit that he had
acquired recently, he walked over to a small writing desk
and rummaged through the trash can, but there was nothing
there but trash,
Sir. one of the other men said from behind him. He
turned to the man and saw that he was holding a piece of pa-
in his hand.
"Found this taped to the bathroom mirror," he said. He
held it out in front of him for either Ellis or Nick to take, but
Ellis kept his hands at his side and let the older, more experi-
enced man have it.
It was brief and to the point: "Have both women, will be
in touch. Have the item available."
"What item?" Ellis asked after he had also read it.
"A Sround peg,' " Nick said.
"Excuse me?"
Nick turned to the other two men and said, "Either one of
you make a decent pot of coffee?"
They both looked at each other and Nick said, "Between
the two of you, you should be able to figure it out. "
"What are we going to do now?" Ellis asked as Nick hol-
stered his gun.
"Wait," Nick said. "We're going to wait for a phone call
with instructions. "
"If this is a kidnapping, shouldn't we call in the FBI?"
Ellis asked.
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"This is not just a kidnapping, Ellis," Nick said. S S We'll
handle it ourselves. "
"Yes, sir," Ellis said, responding to the authority in
Nick's voice. "1*11 check on the coffee."
Three agents in the kitchen making coffee. Nick thought
bitterly, and Sandry was missing—or worse—thanks to him.
He picked up the phone and dialed a number that put him
in touch with a room in the Amalgamated building.
He read off Sandry's phone number to the man who an-
swered the phone and asked, "Is this a clean number?"
"Hold on. "
All AXE employees' phones were checked frequently for
bugging devices, and then filed as clean numbers until the
next time they were checked.
The man came back on the line and said, "That is a clean
line. "
"Put me through to Hawk, will you, then?" Nick asked.
He waited, listening to the clicks on the phone, and then
Hawk was on the other end.
"They're gone, sir," he said, and explained about the
note that had been left behind.
"I suppose you'll just have to sit there and wait for the
call," Hawk said.
"That's what I figure on doing, sir. "
"Since my number is no longer private," Hawk contin-
ued, "I will stay here until one of us receives a call. "
"Good idea, sir."
"Thank you, N3," Hawk said. "I do get one once in a
while. "
"Yes, sir," Nick said, and Hawk hung up.
Nick hung up on his end and then decided to go to the
kitchen to see what was holding up the coffee.
When the phone rang three hours later, Nick pounced on
it.
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"They called me just a minute ago, N3," Hawk's voice
said. "Here are your instructions. "
He gave them to Nick, and he knew that his superior was
reciting from memory and had not written any of it down.
"They said that they will kill both women unless you
come alone," Hawk finished. "The caller was a man. "
"Then that's what I'll have to do, sir. "
"Don't do anything foolish, N3," Hawk warned. "You
have a team right there with you. Tell them what the instruc-
tions are and have them follow at a safe distance. "
"Yes, sir," Nick lied. "I will."
"I have to go out," Nick told Ellis and the other two men
after he hung up. "Wait here in case they call."
Ellis nodded, and they tumed to a deck of cards.
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FORTY-ONE
Nick's instructions were to come alone to an abandoned
building that was near the old federal building, and to bring
the "item" with him. He parked his AXE car two blocks
from the location and proceeded from there on foot. Of
course he didn't have the "round peg" with him. All he had
were four cigars in silver tubes to use as bait.
The building in question took up the entire block, with
exits and entrances on all sides. The building was forever
changing hands, but so far no one had ever done anything
with it, and it remained empty.
Nick had instructions to enter from the front, but he fig-
ured he could always claim confusion, since the place had so
many different entrances.
He chose a fire escape on the side nearest him. Jumping as
high as he could, he caught hold of the bottom rung of the
ladder and tried to control the speed with which it came
down. As cavernous as the building was, the slightest noise
might echo through, announcing his arrival.
He climbed up the ladder, then slid it up after him, just in
case anyone checked. He turned then and climbed two
flights of steps until he reached a window on the third flCK)r.
He was not as prepared for breaking and entering as he
would have liked, but he found the window unlocked and
was able to enter in relative silence.
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He found himself in a small office on a floor that was sepa-
rated into many small offices. He had no idea where in the
building they were holding Sandry and Stephanie, but he did
know what entrance he was expected to use to make his de-
livery, and he would have to go from there.
Moving out into the hall, the first decision he made was to
avoid elevators. They were noisy and would announce his
presence in the building. Whether he went up or down, he
was going to use stairways.
Ideally, he would have liked locating the women before he
took any action, but given the size of the building, that did
not appear to be likely. What he intended todo was make his
way through the building to the entrance he was expected to
use, and then see who was waiting for him.
There were no lights on in the hall and, for all Nick knew,
no electricity anywhere in the building. Having rushed there
from Sandry's apartment, he was unprepared for that condi-
tion. He stood stock still in the hallway, listening intently
while he waited for his eyes to adjust themselves to the
gloom. Once he was able to see somewhat, he began to move
down the hall, picking a direction at random. His gun re-
mained in its holster because it was not a shoot-first situa-
tion. Before there was any shooting, he had to find Sandry.
He moved along the hallway, passing both closed and
opened doorways. The open rooms were obviously empty;
the closed doors had no light showing beneath them, and that
was good enough for him. Finally, he came to the end of the
hall and a doorway which led to a stairwell.
Tempted to go up, where he felt the women might be, he
nevertheless started down, a mental picture in his mind of
where he had come in, and where they were expecting him to
come in.
When he came to a landing that should have been the sec-
ond floor, he found that there was no second floor. Instead,
the door opened out onto a catwalk, high above the first floor
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below. Stepping gingerly out onto the walk, he peered down
and searched for any kind of light, even a candle, but there
was nothing. If they were down there, they were waiting for
him in the dark. His mental map said that if he walked
straight out on this catwalk, he would eventually be above
the point where he had been instructed to enter. Of course,
there was always the chance that a man had been stationed on
this very catwalk, or the one to his right that ran parallel with
his.
With this in mind, he drew his gun and started walking
forward as carefully as possible. He did not want to set off
even the tiniest vibration on the walk, lest it be felt by some-
one waiting at the other end. He kept one eye ahead of him
and one eye cast down, which was a feat accomplished by
years of practice.
Suddenly, he caught a small flash of light and stopped. It
was down on the floor, and he stood stock still and waited for
it to appear again. When it did, he realized that it was a flash-
light with someone's hand clasped over it to shield the light.
Whoever was holding it had carelessly opened his fingers too
wide on two occasions, and Nick had caught sight of it both
times.
At least one, then, on the floor level.
Moving forward again, he kept both eyes ahead of him,
attempting to verify a theory he had just formed. As a re-
ward, he caught a flash of light ahead, just a small sliver, and
when he looked down, he caught a return flash. They were
staying in contact with each other via flashlight, and in doing
so had given away their positions,
He had them.
All he had to worry about now was the existence of a third
party—or even more. He stood still and tried to decide where
he would have placed a third man. He watched closely, wait-
ing for other slivers of light, but when there were none, he
had to assume that his reception committee was two.
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He began moving again, even slower. He did not want to
walk into one of his welcoming committee. That m»uldn't
do at all. He was going to either grab the man on the catwalk
and have him take him to where the women were, or else
dispose of the man atxwe and grab the man &low for the
same purpose.
He'd have to play it by ear and see how conditions pre-
sented themselves.
Nick was moving one foot next to the other. instead ofone
foot in front of the other, and suddenly he saw the man,
crouched over and peering dovvn at the floor. He could have
put his foot against the man's backside and catapulted him
into the air, but that would have alerted the one on the
level. Instead, he put his gun away and took Hugo out. Hold-
ing the knife ahead of him, he continued to shuffle toward
the unwary man until he was able to put the point of the knife
behind the man's left ear. The man stiffened and Nick in-
creased the pressure until the tip of the knife drew a drop of
blood.
' 'Stand up," he whisvved, and the man obeyed immedi-
ately. Nick patted him down and came up with an automatic.
which he tucked into his belt.
"Is there a way down up ahead0" he asked.
The man nodded and said, "Y-yeah. There-s a stairway
that leads right d0'*Ttstairs. "
"Let's go."
He left the man's flashlight lying on the floor of the cat-
walk and marched him ahead.
"If you stay quiet, you stay alive." he told the man.
nodded anxiously.
When they reached the stairway, Nick kept the man one
step ahead of him. He had his left hand on his left shoulder
and the knife tucked securely behind his ear.
When they reached the bottom, Nick pulled back on the
man's shoulder to stop him. He leaned forward and spoke di-
rectly into the man's ear.
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"Now we walk to your friend. Tell him you're coming
when I tap you on the shoulder. "
The man nodded and Nick gave him a push to get him
started. As they approached the other man, Nick waited until
he could make out the shape of him, then tapped his man on
the shoulder.
' 'Eddie, it's me," he said, almost too loud.
"Jesus!" the other man exclaimed. "You scared the shit
out of me. " He shone the flashlight toward Nick and the oth-
er man and started to say, "What the hell—" as Nick took
the automatic from his belt, raised it over his man's head,
and clubbed him. At the same time, the other man saw the
move and shouted, "Hey!"
ne second man moved faster than Nick had anticipated.
As the first man slumped down, the second came barreling
into both Of them. The combined weight of the two men
knocked Nick back, and when he hit the ground, the auto-
matic was jarred loose from his hand.
The second man was using his flashlight to try and locate
Nick, and although the light hurt his eyes, Nick could see the
shape of the gun in the man's other hand. The last thing he
wanted was a shot to be fired.
Still grasping Hugo in his right hand, he rolled to his left
just as the flashlight was about to spot him. Gathering his
legs underneath him, he sprang at the man. grabbing for the
hand that held the gun. They both went tumbling to the floor,
and as they rolled about, the man started to club Nick with
the flashlight, Before he could do more damage. Nick drove
Hugo straight into the man's belly. Air escaped through the
man's mouth as if he were a punctured balloon. Nick felt him
go limp, but twisted the knife just to make sure he wasn't
playing possum.
Convinced that the man was dead, he pulled Hugo free,
stood up, and kicked the dead man's gun away into the dark-
ness. He turned and repeated the action with the first man's
automatic. After that. he picked up the flashlight, took out
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the batteries, and scattered them into the darkness as well.
That done, he turned his attention to the first man, who was
coming to on the floor, moaning and holding his head.
"Come here," he ordered the man, grabbing him by the
collar and pulling him over to the dead man. "That's your
friend, and this is the knife that killed him," Nick said,
pushing the bloodied knife underneath the man's nose.
"Smell his blood? Want to taste it?"
The man surprised Nick by turning over and vomiting
onto the cement floor. Nick waited for the man's retching to
subside, then pulled him away from the foul-smelling puddle
and the dead body.
"What are you, hired muscle?" Nick asked.
"Ahh," the man said, clearing his throat, and then
rasped, "Yeah."
"Where are the two women?"
The man answered without hesitating.
s 'GO up the other catwalk. There's a stairway over there,
he said, pointing into the darkness. "Walk to the end and go
up the steps. They're in one of the offices up there."
That was the same floor Nick had come in on, but on the
other side of the building.
"What's your interest beyond money?" Nick asked.
"None, I swear.
"You want to buy in or take a walk?"
"I'll walk, Mister. Believe me, I'll walk. "
"Okay," Nick said, pulling the man to his feet. "Walk. "
As the man turned to leave, Nick pulled Wilhelmina out
and slugged the man behind his other ear. Nobody could say
he didn't have a heart.
He walked through the darkness to the stairway, climbed
up to the catwalk, and hurried along it to the other end. When
he came to the stairwell, he ran up to the third floor, then
stopped when he came to the closed stairwell door, He
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opened it slowly and peered down the hall. There was a dim
light coming from one of the open doorways, and it flickered
as if it were candlelight. He eased his way down the hall to-
ward the door and suddenly heard a woman's voice say, "l
told those assholes to get some storm lamps, and they bring
candles." The tone of her voice was thick with disgust.
It was plainly the voice of the woman he knew as
Stephanie Clark.
He stepped into the room with his gun in plain sight, and
both Sandry Triggs and "Stephanie Clark" turned to look at
him.
Sandry was bound and gagged, but her eyes were trying
frantically to send him a message.
Stephanie stared at him, looking shocked, and then sud-
denly smiled as if she were very pleased to see him.
"Nick! Thank God you're here!"
She had been seated on the floor and now she stood up and
said, "I just managed to work myself loose and was about to
untie Sandry. How did you get past those men?"
"What's your real name?" he asked her.
She frowned and said, "What do you mean?"
Nick took the five-by-seven photo from his pocket and
held it so she could look at it.
"This is a picture of Stephanie Clark," he said. "You
can't see it very well from there, but trust me when I say that
she's got a birthmark just below her navel—a birthmark that
you don't have. " He threw the picture aside and it fluttered
to the floor. "So who are you, and where's the real
Stephanie Clark?"
"You're crazy," she said.
"Come off it," he said. "I heard you just before I came
in. And if I needed further proof, there's the fact that you're
both up here with no guard. Sandry's tied up and you're
not. "
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NICK CARTER
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NICK CARTER
told you," she insisted, "I just worked my way free."
"Really?" Nick said. "And what did you do with the
rope, eat it?"
He indicated the floor around her, where there was no
rope or binding of any kind that she might have just worked
free of.
"It's over, lady. Your days as a courier killer are no more
and all because you got greedy.
"What do you mean?"
"You not only wanted what I was carrying, but the man I
was to deliver it to; otherwise you could have killed me any
one of several times. And the times you did fire at me, or
have some hired gun fire at me, were just to convince me that
the killer was on my trail and to keep me moving toward my
goal."
' 'Did you bring the item with you?" she asked, as if obliv-
ious to the fact that he was holding a gun on her.
' 'You mean the item I carried with me all over Europe?"
he asked. "Sure, I brought it." He reached into his pocket
for the four silver tubes and said, "Here it is. '
She stared at him, then said, "Your cigars! You never
smoked them. Of course!"
"Of course," he repeated. "Here, catch."
He tossed them to her, one at a time, and she caught them
and held them in her hands.
"Which one?" she demanded.
"All of them," he said. "None of them. Any of them.
Take your pick, they all contain the same thing."
She broke the seal of one, opened it, and took out a cigar.
She shredded it and let the pieces fall to the floor. She then
repeated the ritual with each of the other three.
"Cigars," she said. "They're just cigars."
"That's right. "
She stared at him in disbelief, and then she said, "A de-
coy? They used Nick Carter as a decoy?"
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He grinned and said, "That's almost as unbelievable as
using me as a courier, isn't it?"
She just stood there shaking her head, and he said, "Quite
a world, huh? Can't trust anybody to run true to form. Okay ,
lady, what did you do with the real Stephanie Clark?"
"She's long dead, the woman replied. "l took her place
months ago. I'm almost an exact double, you know, what
with a nip here and a tuck there. "
' 'Except for her birthmark. Pretty careless for a smart girl
like you, huh?"
She made an ugly face and then started to move toward
Sandry.
"Oh, no," Nick said. "Stay put, lady."
"I'll untie her for you," she said. "It's all over, isn't it?
She's been trussed up like that for hours. Maybe she's suf-
focating. "
She kept moving toward the other girl, and Nick said,
"Lady, don't.
"Who would have believed that they'd use you as a couri-
er, and then a decoy?" she asked. "Maybe a few other
things I heard about you were wrong, too."
"Like what?"
"Like maybe you wouldn't shoot a woman."
Nick shook his head sadly and said, "Don't bet on it. "
The woman took one more step, then stopped and stared at
Nick.
"No," she said. "No, I don't think I will. You're proba-
bly one hell of a card player, Nick. Aren't you?"
"Only when the chips are down," he said, and then
moved to untie Sandry himself.
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EPILOGUE
"Her name is Natalie Fortune, née FortunelIi,'S Hawk
said. "She's a computer expert. She must have taken
Stephanie Clark's place four months ago, as she said, and
then started using the DIA computer to locate couriers. "
"Then she'd use hired help," Nick continued. "Hoods,
mercenaries, anyone she could find to work for a price and
do her dirty work for her. "
Hawk closed her file and dropped it on his desk top.
• 'I wonder if Howard Clark had any contact with her dur-
ing the past four months?" Hawk said distractedly.
'He was too good a man not to recognizß the fact that she
wasn't his daughter. s'
"Killing him killed the proverbial two birds with one
stone, I suppose," Hawk mused.
Nick nodded, then picked up her file and began to leaf
through it absently.
suppose you're pretty lucky, N3s" Hawk said.
"How's that, sir?"
"If she hadn't been greedy, as you said, you might be an-
other victim now, instead of sitting here waiting for another
assignment. s'
Nick closed the folder and dropped it back on his boss'
desk.
"Another assignment, already?" he asked, "Like the last
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NICK CARTER
one? Going to hang me out to dry again? Dangle me like a
worm on a hook? Throw me to the—2'
"Please, spare us the benefit of your vast knowledge of
clichés. N3," Hawk said with a pained look.
s 'I'll tell you what." Nick said, standing up. "How about
you going out on the next one, and I'll sit behind the desk for
a while."
Hawk's eyebrows went up as he considered the remark,
and then he said. "You know, N3, that might prove quite
interesting.
Nick stard at David Hawk. then shook his head and said,
"You're giving in too easily." He sat down. "All right,
what's the next one?'"
He swore that he saw a fleeting look, a smugness, pass
over Hawk's face as the old man opened a drawer and took
out a large, brown envelope.
Outfoxed by the old fox again.
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