The Vulcan Disaster

Except it had been a cursive “G” and it had been definitely leading into something: an ascending stroke. “G-I,” perhaps? “G-L”? I was wondering if Will would know — Will, who seemed to have a handle on almost everything that happened here in Hong Kong — when the phone rang.

I froze.

I looked down at my watch. Eleven-thirty, give or take a few minutes.

I picked it up. “Hello?” I said.

“Nick? Will here.”

“Will! What are you...”

“Not much time here to talk, Nick. Tatiana’s with me. We seem to have landed in the shit, old boy.”

“Where are you?”

He gave me an address in Wanchai, across the Strait. Of course, of course: that number he’d asked me to call at noon had had a Hong Kong Island prefix. “And look, Nick. Your deadly little friends are here, and...”

“Who?”

“The Israelis. They...”

“But that’s impossible. I... they just killed Fredericks. Right here. I just missed them. I saw the bigger one as he was getting away. They couldn’t have had time to get across the Strait and get to where you are. Not on the Ferry, not on a ’copter, not any way.”

“Well, whoever they are, they’ve got us boxed in. We’re in an office in the warehouse, Nick. The one the shipment was to have gone to. I’ve got the place barricaded, but they’ll be busting through in a few minutes, I think. Looks like I was right, there’s three groups. If only...”

“Will,” I said. “You said was to have gone to. It’s not here, then?”

“No. It was intercepted — hijacked out at sea, as far as I know, destination unknown. But I think Europe, Nick. Europe or the Middle East. Perhaps somewhere in the Mediterranean. I... no, Tatiana! Back from the door! No, my dear... Nick, where was I? Oh, yes... ah... well, I think it won’t be much longer. Nick, for the love of heaven, get through to David. Follow this up, all the way. This is something big, I’m sure of it — bigger than any damned single arms shipment. There’s a new factor in... in... N-no...”

“Will!” I said. “Will, hang on!”

“Oh, God... oh, God, my head... oh, God, not now... not n-n-n...” The rational voice became a low keening. There was a loud report in my ear; another. There was a woman’s shrill scream. More shots. Six, eight; I’m not sure how many. After a while somebody put the phone back on the hook.

After a while I put my own receiver down, too.

Chapter Fourteen

I called Basil Morse.

“Basil? Nick Carter. I...”

“Oh, Carter. I was wondering when the devil I’d be hearing from you.”

“Basil,” I said. “I’m at Meyer’s old place. I think you’d better get down here and have a look around.”

“Meyer’s...?” His voice was annoyed, nasal, intolerant “Where the devil is that?”

“68–72 Nathan Road, Basil. You’d better hurry. There’s been a murder here, and this one is going to kick up a bit of a stink in this tight little undercover community of yours here.”

“Murder? Look here, Carter, if you’ve killed...”

“Not me, it’s... Look, Basil. The cops are not going to be too far behind me, I just got here. You’ll want to give things a look-see before they arrive. The cops are going to impound this guy’s file cabinet as soon as they find this,” I said. “You’ll want to go through it. Look Basil...”

“Calm down, Carter. One can’t make heads or tails of things with you...”

“Basil, I saw who did it. It’s the same people who did in Meyer. And they did it the same way, with the same trademark. I want to put a description of both of them in every diplomatic bag we have. These guys are going to show up later, you can bet on that.”

“Yes, but...”

“Take my word for it. You want to look in those files. I’ll show you how. You start at. A. That’s up in the top drawer. Then you try B...”

“Oh, confound. 68–72, you said? Nathan Road?”

“Yes, and make it snappy. I haven’t any idea whether or not these bozos tipped off the cops beforehand. Not that I have any idea why they would, but I’m taking no chances. Get on the stick.”

“All right,” the stuffy voice said. “Uh... twenty minutes.”

“Make it fifteen.”

“All right.”

“Hey. Don’t hang up.”

“Oh?”

“You must have a man over in Victoria. Preferably in Wanchai, or as near to there as possible.”

“Yes, I...”

“Get hold of him immediately. Immediately. Get that? Send him around to this address.” I gave him the address Will had given me. “And in a hurry, and armed to the teeth. A couple of my friends are there, and they’ve been ambushed. I’m not quite sure by whom. I just got a call from them. We may be too late. But just in case there’s a chance, any chance at all...”

“Right. I’ll get right on it.”

“You do that.” I hung up.

Then I sat back down again and tried not to look down at Fred. He’d died with that last rush of blood from the deep slash on his neck, much as Meyer had. So many people had died, in so short a time. And for what? An arms shipment that somebody had beat them to?