A COFFIN FROM HONG KONG

I had about ten minutes to wait before I heard the whine of the ascending elevator. I got off the desk and stood behind the door, gun in hand. I heard quick footfalls then movements in Wayde’s office. The light turned on, the door closed. I peered through the door crack. Wayde stood looking around. He walked to the room in which I was, pushed the door back against me and looked in, then he stepped back into his office. I heard a jangle of keys, then a lock snap back. I guessed he had opened the steel cupboard.

I stepped out from behind the door. He was kneeling in front of the cupboard. The double doors of the cupboard stood wide open. The cupboard was packed with bottles, boxes, glass files and other chemist’s samples.

“Is the heroin still there?” I asked quietly.

He gave a shudder, then looked slowly over his shoulder to stare at me. I lifted the gun slightly so he could see it. His face went chalk-white and slowly he rose to his feet.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I tried to open the cupboard but the lock beat me,” I said, watching him. “So I thought it was an idea if you came down and opened it for me. Move away and don’t start anything.”

“Why should I?” he said and walked unsteadily to his desk and slumped down into his chair. He buried his face in his hands. I glanced into the bottom of the cupboard. There were about fifty small, neatly packed parcels lying on the floor of the cupboard.

“Those the drugs Jefferson hijacked?” I asked, coming over to the desk and sitting on the edge of it.

He leaned back, rubbing his white, sweating face.

‘Yes. How did you know I had them?”

“You forgot to take the tape recording of the airport off the machine. Your girl played it

back. I heard it. The whole set-up fell into place,” I told him.

“I’ve always been forgetful. If there’s a mistake to be made, I make it. I knew when you said you were going to Hong Kong I was sunk.” He looked wearily at me. “I knew somewhere along the line you’d come across a loose thread that would lead you to me. When you told me you were going, I was insane enough to hire a junkie to kill you. That’s how desperate I was! When that didn’t work, I knew it was only a matter of time, but I was so hopelessly involved there was nothing else I could do but hang on and hope.”

“If it’s any satisfaction to you, you nearly got away with it,” I said, “I thought Jefferson’s secretary was the one. She had the motive and I’m a sucker for motives.”

“I hoped you would pick on her,” he said. “That’s why I told you about her affair with Herman, but I knew if you ran into him in Hong Kong and you talked to him you were certain to get onto me.”

“How did you know Jo-An was coming back here with the heroin?”