49
a large, cozy room heated by roaring logs in a huge
fireplace.
In a rocker by the fire was a gaunt man beneath a lap
robe. His face was a sickly, sallow color, and his tangle
of wiry gray hair was an invitation for nesting birds. He
was approaching his sixtieth birthday, but he looked an
ailing twenty years older than that.
When he looked up, his eyes were dark and caver-
nous, but they were also alert, and they assessed all of
Carter in one penetrating look.
"Ah, Caner. Please sit down. You'll forgive my
rudeness at not standing. I must conserve as much
strength as possible. You see, I am dying."
Ilse Beddick poured tea for herself and Vinnick, and
found brandy for Carter. As she did this, she related the
night's events at the lodge,
"Yes, when I heard you outside, I figured that there
had been difficulties. You see, Carter, there are factions
in my country, indeed in my own service, who would
dearly love to bring me down."
guessed as much," the Killmaster replied. "But
"I shall get to that, soon," Vinnick said. "In the
meantime, how much did my sister tell you? Oh, by the
way, if you wish to smoke, please do. Ilse, find him an
ashtray. "
Carter eased into Lorena Zorkova's story and
speeded up, hitting just the high points as he came to the
end. He thought the man had fallen asleep, but when he
finished, Vinnick's head came up and his eyes were as
bright and penetrating as before.
"Good," he munnured. "When the Soviets moved in
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to establish the Communist party, I joined immediately."
Here he paused, a raspy laugh escaping his lips. "I was,
you might say, a ruthless, devoted advcxate of the new
regime."
'*And you became one of its most rx»werful and
feared men," Caner offered. "Why?"
"Two reasons ... survival, and revenge. Now, an an-
swer to your earlier question. I was one of the men who
advocated against complete submission to Moscow. To
do that, we aligned ourselves with Red China as much
or more than with the Kremlin. Because of this, Roma-
nia still has some degree of independence."
A little bell went off in Carter's head. "All the infor-
mation you passed to us through your sister?"
"Exactly. Astute of you at last. All of it, was a detri-
ment to the other Eastern bloc countries and Moscow.
That in itself was a form of revenge for what the Bol-
sheviks did to my father. My sister was my eyes and
ears in the West, as well as my conduit to you. The
operation has worked quite well. It has also given my
sister a tktter life in the West, Ilse, more tea, please."
The woman was at his side at once. Carter studied
the two of them. There was obviously a great deal of
warmth and affection there. Vinnick sensed Carter's
look, and smiled.
"The nurse, Nanya? Ilse is her daughter. When the
time comes, Ilse will join my sister in the West."
"I take it, then," Carter said, ' 'that of your
health, our little operation is about over?"
"You are quite right. That is why I sent for you. I
wish, for a favor, to put into your hands, Carter, one
very large bulk of information. I am sure that your peo-
RUBY RED DEATH
51
51
ple know that for years the Bulgarians have been putting
assassination teams into the West?"
Carter nodded. "It's pan Of the KGB's system to take
international heat off them. Ihe Bulgarians are more
than happy to become Moscow's First Directorate trig-
ger people."
s 'Yes, quite so," Vinnick said, nodding. ' There is a
large segment of the Bulgarian Dajnavna Sigurnost who
revel in creative killing. I have the assumed names, oc-
cupations, and addresses of each and every team."
It was all Carter could do to maintain his even ex-
pression and his relaxed m»sition in the chair. Already
the Bulgarian secret police had pulled off too many po-
litical assassinations in the West. It was known that
when Moscow wanted someone out of the way, .the Bul-
garians did the work.
Information of this magnitude would be-invaluable.
He knew that Washington would go for it at any price.
lhe Killmaster kept his voice calm. "And the favor?"
The penetrating eyes gazed steadily at Carter. ' 'The
night we fled, when Nanya rescued those papers the
Soviet sergeant tned to bum?"
remember," Carter said.
"I kept those documents all these years. Eventually,
by digging through old Nazi records, Russian files, and
current computer records, I was able to piece everything
together. • e"
Carter listened to it all, his admiration for the older
man's tenacity growing with each word.
Two of the documents belonged to an SS officer and
his secretary They were found in an ambushed car with
their driver. Another document was the military identi-
fication of the sergeant who had led that Russian patrol,
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Boris Glaskov. And there was one more passport, It wa:
Portuguese, identifying one Greta Bolivar.
"Over the years, I dug and dug. I think that Graf vor
Wassner was on the way to steal my family's jewels tha
night. I think he was intending to run, but was am
bushed by a Russian patrol under the command of Ser
geant Boris Glaskov."
"And Glaskov went after the jewels himself," Carte
offered.
"Exactly. And when he got them, he destroyed hi
own
' That left the Bolivar
Vinnick nodded. "It took me years to backtrack th
name. Greta Kraussen was an Abwehr agent in Lisb01
during the war. She married Heinrich Bolivar in 1942
Because Bolivar's mother was German, Greta enliste
him in the cause. In 1943, they both disappeared. Thei
disappearance was reported by their contact officer a
that time, one Graf von Wassner."
"He killed them himself and kept the passports."
Vinnick nodded. "I believe so. I also think Glasko
escaped to Lisbon with Heinrich Bolivar's passport. Bu
for years I could not trace a Heinrich Bolivar. Then I gc
a break. About two years ago, I came across this." Th
frail fingers passed across a dog-eared magazine t
Carter
Carter thumbed through the pages. It was turned t
an article about mountain rebels in Uruguay. It seem
the rebels had come across the border into Argentin
and kidnalpl three wealthy ranchers and businessmer
The three men had been rescued, and the leaders of th
rebel group were hanged.
There was a photograph of the three men.
RUBY RED DEATH
53
53
Vinnick pointed a shaky finger at the man in the
center of the picture. "His name is Enrique Bolivar."
Carter glanced up. '*Enrique is Spanish or Portuguese
for Henry."
"Or, in German, Heinrich." Vinnick smiled. s 'It took
a great deal more sleuthing, but I found the application
for name change and a new passport in the records of a
small village in the Algarve. Enrique Bolivar is Boris
Glaskov."
Carter took his time replying. "He seems to have
done rather well."
"Quite well, with my family fortune. He has been
selling the jewels off one by one over the years to sup-
port the building of a sizable empire in Portugal and
Argentina."
Carter glanced from the magazine to Vinnick. "And
now you want revenge."
Vinnick sat back in his chair with a deep sigh and
produced a short, slender cigar. Ilse Beddick was on her
feet at once.
"Vadim, the doctors ..
He waved her away with a smile, and let Caner light
the cigar for him. "Revenge? Perhaps. But more. I have
learned a great deal about Glaskov/Bolivar. He was a
despicable man the night he had my parents murdered
and, in turn, murdered his own comrades. In the years
since, he has become an even more despicable man. He
deserves to die."
Carter stood and began to leisurely pace the room. "I
have killed many times, Vinnick. But I'm not a paid
assassin, even for the prize you offer."
"J am dying, Carter," came the measured reply.
"When I go, my sister will be alone. As you already
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NICK CARTER
know, she is not wealthy, The fees we have charged you
for information have not been great."
"You want the jewels," Carter said.
Vinnick nodded. "Many of them have tEen sold, but
even more are left. One gem alone is worth a fortune. It
is an enormous ruby, called the Heartstone. Because of
its great worth, the Heartstone is the symbol of our heri-
tage. It is the crown jewel of the houses of Cimpeni and
Romanovsky. If only that one stone could re-
turned .. He stopped with a shrug.
Carter continued to pace. For what Vinnick was of-
fering, he wasn't asking a great deal. He was sure
Washington would go along with the deal.
"Obviously, you have a plan," Carter said at last.
' 'I do," Vinnick replied at once. "Bolivar is preparing
to sell off the rest of the jewels. Through the years, he
has tEen dealing with three men. This is always done
through intermediaries. Recently, Bolivar contacted all
three of these men. 'Ihey will be going to Argentina
soon to bid on the jewels."
"Why is he selling?" Carter asked.
"Simple. His wealth and his power are solid now. He
no longer has need of them as security, and the cash
they will bring will secure him even greater power."
"It's logical," Caner agreed. "I assume I will take the
place of one of the jewel merchants?"
"Exactly. His name is Fabian Huzel. He lives quietly
in Amsterdam. He looks and dresses like a man of
meager means, but he is one of a handful of men in the
world who could arrange the financing for a buy of this
size. Probably a third of the stolen jewels in the world
pass through Huzel's hands."
RUBY RED DEATH
55
55
Carter listened as the old man explained how the plan
would unfold.
assume you have contacts in Amsterdam who
could help you make all this
Carter ncxided. '"lhere would be a cost factor, but
yes, there are such people."
S Good. One more thing. Lorena will go with you."
There it was. Carter looked from Vadim Vinnick to
the woman and back again. No, he wouldn't required
to kill Enrique Bolivar. As soon as they had the jewels,
Lorena herself would kill him.
ney knew his thoughts, but said nothing.
"All right," Carter said, "I'll do it."
lhe tension disappeared from the room. Ilse Beddick
produced a file on Fabian Huzel, and photographs. She
also gave Carter the vast research file that had been
anussed on Enrique Bolivar. Together, the three of them
went over this material for the next two hours. At that
time Vinnick called a halt.
"Needless to say, with my enemies in the Hungarian
secret police knowing about you, it will be impossible
for you to return to the lodge. You will stay here to-
night, and we will continue in the moming."
Ilse nodded. "Tomorrow I will make arrangements to
get you safely out of the country," she said.
She showed Carter to a comfortable room on the sec-
ond floor. Everything he needed was there, even a
change of clothes and a razor.
The whole thing lcx»ked like one very large setup.
think," Caner said, 'that you and Vinnick tipped
off the Hungarians that an American was coming over. "
Ilse smiled. "You are as astute as your reputation
says you are."
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"What would have happened if I had not agreed to
this?"
She shrugged. "Your body would have been turned
over to the authorities here after I killed you trying to
escape. Gocxf night."
Carter undressed and lay on the bed, but he knew he
wouldn't be able to get much sleep.
SIX
ne place was called the Rotten Apple, and it
smelled worse than its namesake. It was on an alley
with no name off Dream Street in one of the worst red-
light districts in Hamburg.
They sat at a comer table looking out at the dancers
moving frantically on a postage-stamp-size dance floor.
The music was loud, pounding the walls, and, Carter
was sure, damaging his ears.
Sitting across in a pair of hip-hugger jeans, a purple
shirt open to expose his chest, and a pair of Gucci
loafers, was Count Otto von Krumm. Otto was some-
where close to forty, claimed to be thirty, and bragged
that he hadn't bedded a womm over eighteen for twenty
years.
Otto von Krumm's father had tx•en in the SS. He had
survived the war with only the family castle near the
village of Bundesdorg, on the West German/ Nether-
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lands frontier. Eventually the old man had died, still
saluting the Fuhrer. He had left young Otto the castle,
the grounds around it, and a brilliant criminal mind.
For the first thirty years of his life, Otto had stolen
everything he could get his hands on and invested it
wisely. When he was rich enough, he retired to become
an aging hippie who liked a challenge now and then.
Quite often Carter offered that challenge.
Von Krumm leaned over and shouted into Carter's
ear. "I like it here."
"I can see that," Carter replied. "Can we talk in front
The German threw an affectionate arm around the
voluptuous blonde who sat trside him, his hand acci-
dentally sliding downward to partially cover a breast.
•ne blonde smiled at Otto. It was an animal smile,
earthy and anticipatory, Carter noted that she didn't
have any pupils in her eyes.
Carter tried again. "l said, can we talk in front of
"Of course," von Krumm t*llowed, and grinned.
"She dcksn't speak any English at all. Even her German
is terrible. But she has the strongest thighs you have
ever seen. They are really quite remarkable. Dear me,
look at that. And she seems quite taken with you, Ni-
cholas."
Caner followed his stare toward the knot of dancers
on the floor. A couple seemed to have taken up resi-
dence nght in front of their table.
ne man was uninteresting, small and swarthy with a
moronic face. But the woman was startling. She was
barefoot, with long legs and a hard figure ensheathed in
a shimmering Iamé dress. Her platinum hair was cut
RUBY RED DEATH
short and contrasted sharply with a deep tan.
59
59
Each time the couple made a revolving turn, the
woman smiled at Carter and ran her tongue along her
lower lip.
"Very nice," von Krumm remarked. "I would look
into that if I were you in a manner of speaking, of
course." He laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh.
Carter got his lips as close as possible to Otto's ear.
"Can we talk?"
"Must we? I assume it concerns money."
"Jt could."
'Gruesome but necessary, I suppose," von Krumm
sighed.
"Somewhere else," Carter insisted.
"Very well, we'll go to my flat," Otto rose and nod-
ded toward the platinum blonde. "Why don't you ask
her along? We'll have a little entertainment after we talk
business. "
"No. Otto."
"Very well, follow us to the flat."
"I have the address," Carter said. "I'll meet you
there."
Von Krumm led the way out, holding the blonde by
the hand. With one eye Carter was watching the shift of
her hips as she moved. With the other eye he was
watching the hard-eyed little man leave his platinum-
haired dancing partner.
Outside, they turned right. Halfway to the comer,
Carter whispered, "When you get to your car, drive
around the block and keep circling until you see me in
your rearview mirror."
Von Krumm nodded and Carter darted into the alley
adjoining the club. He made his way around to the rear
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and walked into the kitchen. A burly man at the door
stood to block his progress. Carter waved a fifty-mark
bill in his face and he was waved on in.
Ihe Rotten Apple didn't much care if you paid at the
front or the rear for entrance, just that you paid.
He was halfway through the knot of dancers when he
saw the platinum blonde on a stool at the end of the bar,
alone.
"Hi," he said, moving in beside her, close.
"You," she murmured. "I thought you left." Her ac-
cent was Belgian or French.
"I came back. Where's your tX)Yfriend?"
"Boyfriend? Haven't got one yet. You interested?"
"The short, dark little guy with the wilted eyes.
Where is he?"
'*Don't know, don't care," she said, running her hand
over Carter's crotch. '*Want to dance?"
"No." Carter laid his hand on the inside of her thigh,
squeezed, hard.
'*Owww, damn you, that hurts!" she exclaimed.
"It can hurt worse. Who is he?"
"Don't know, I swear. He gave me some marks to
dance with him. Said he wanted to dance right by your
table. That's it, I swear."
Carter believed her. He off another fifty and
stuffed it into her cleavage. 'Thanks. I like your hair."
The big one at the rear door just shook his head when
Carter exited after so short a time. He moved through
the alleys until he was four blocks away, on the street
where he had parked the rental car near Otto's Mer-
cedes. Keeping to the shadows, he moved up the street
until he was in the same block, then darted into a door-
way. He had already spotted the little man slouched be-
RUBY RED DEATH
hind the wheel of a beige Audi parked at the corner.
A hand dropped on Carter's shoulder and he froze.
"You looking for fun, darling?"
61
61
hind the wheel of a beige Audi parked at the corner.
A hand dropped on Carter's shoulder and he froze.
"You looking for fun, darling?"
He turned slowly, letting the stored-up air in his
lungs escape with a hiss.
She was on the wrong side of forty, with a mask of
makeup for a face. She wore a thin, clinging black dress
relieved by a string of phony pearls and a leather belt
with a big silver L on it as a buckle.
"Not fun," he murmured, "but maybe something
else."
"What else is there?" she said with a throaty laugh,
and stepped forward a little so the dim light from the
hallway behind lit her.
She had big, heavy breasts, and she showed them by
way of a low vee cut to her dress. Her legs were still
good where the short skirt revealed them to the darker
panty part of her pantyhose. Her skin was dark,
swarthy, and it made her nearly white hair stand out like
snow on a black stone.
"I can do you back there. at the end of the hall,"
She lifted the skirt. There was no crotch in the panty-
hose.
"I'll take a raincheck."
"Raincheck? What the hell is raincheck?"
Carter pulled her forward a little. "See that Audi
down there, the man behind the wheel?"
"Ja."
Carter told her what he wanted. As he did, he
unrolled two more fifties from the wad in his pocket and
curled them into her hand. "Okay?"
"Sure, okay. But for another fifty I give you a quick
one to boot."
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Carter saw von Krumm and his blonde go by. "Just
do a number on him. That's enough. And rememtEr---
you just forget whatever you see. Go!"
He waited until she was across the street and headed
down the blcxk t*fore he moved out himself. He pulled
the Rommer and held it at his side as he moved from
doorway to doorway.
When the hooker crossed back toward the Audi,
Carter into a crouch and moved over the side-
walk to the line of parked cars.
The hooker was doing a real number. She had the
short skirt balled around her waist, the merchandise
pumping through the open window practically in the
guy's face.
"What are you, cheap?" she was taunting.
'Get lost, whore."
"Who you calling whore..
All of it no more than three seconds. Carter
yanked the passenger side and dived across
the seat.
"Head just like that," he hissed. "Don't move. Hands
on the wheel." For emphasis, he thumbed the hammer
back on the Rommen
"What's this, you her pimp?" the little man snarled.
The hooker took off. She hadn't seen a thing.
"Start the car, nice and easy."
"Fuck you."
Carter cradled the man's head with his free hand and
ground the barrel of the Rommer viciously into his ear.
"All right, all right!" He started the car and eased
slowly from tie curb.
'*Turn right," Carter barked. The man turned. Three
blocks farther on, Caner spotted a deep alley. "In here."
RUBY RED DEATH
63
63
He reached over and killed the headlights as they
turned. "Stop here!"
They stopped and Carter pocketed the keys. Practi-
cally in the same movement he orrned the door and
shoved the man out. He had barely sprawled, when
Carter had him up against the wall, his legs spread.
"Look, J don't know—
"Shut up."
A fist in the k.idneys brought a painful grunt but no
more words. A search gave him a fat wallet, a passport,
a credentials case, and a Heckler and Koch UP70 auto-
matic pistol.
Inside the credentials case was a badge and an II)
card identifying the man as Bruno Lunt, detective in-
spector, shield G4991411, St. Pauli District, Hamburg.
Caner shook his head in amazement. "What do the
police want with me?"
"Routine." The little man shrugged. "Picked you up
at the airport. Suspicious acting."
' 'On whose authority?" Carter asked.
"My own."
"You just lounged around the airport, SB)tted a suspi-
cious character, and followed me?"
' *Tlat's right."
"And what flight was I on?"
"Lufthansa 4113 from Belgrade ... " He clamped his
jaw shut, but it was late.
Carter gave him another good shot in the kidneys and
he went to the ground. The Killmaster put his foot on
the back of the man's neck, and ground.
"I'm the police, you fool!" the little man cried.
"I don't give a shit. Someone spotted me getting on
the flight in Belgrade and phoned ahead, right?"
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NICK CARTER
No words, but a lot of wriggling. Using his hair,
Carter bounced the man's forehead a few times on the
bricks, then returned his foot to the back of his neck.
"Right, Bruno?"
"Yes, Jesus. yes .. ."
"Who?"
"I don't know. I never know. I just get a call from
Berlin now and then. It's always surveillance. I report, I
get an envelope."
Carter thought this over. It was a good guess that
little Bruno had already made Otto; von Krumm was far
from unknown. But that might not rx)se a problem if the
count moved out fast.
"Get up."
Bruno crawled to his feet. Carter pushed him to the
rear of the car and opened the trunk.
"What're you going to do?"
"More imm)rtant, Bruno, what are you going to do?"
Carter took his State Department II) out and waved it
in front of the little man's eyes just enough so he could
read the official seal and not the name.
"You might not know who those callers are in Berlin,
Bruno, but I think you can guess. I'm into something
big, bigger than anything you've ever known, 'Ihe re-
you're going to file is that you lost me tonight. You
got that?"
"Ja, ja."
"If I hear different, and I will hear, I'll have the West
German BfV on your ass like flies on shit. You got
"I lost you right outside the airport."
"And my friend?"
"What friend?"
RUBY RED DEATH
65
65
*Good. Stick to shaking down hookers, Bruno. One
of those phone calls will put you in a grave someday.
Get in the trunk."
The little man scrambled in and Carter shut the lid.
Back at his own car, he waited until von Krumm
came by again, and fell in behind the cream-colored
Mercedes.
He was big and he was tough, with a muscular build
and dark, faintly cruel good looks. He looked as if he
could chew nails and stomp any man twice his size for
relaxation.
There was something about the man that made you
look twice at him, something hard, impressive, and
commanding. There was an all-consuming demand in
his eyes, the straight, thin, unsmiling line of his mouth,
the almost catlike way the muscular six-foot-three-inch
form balanced lightly on the balls of his feet.
He leaned tiredly against the wall of the corridor as
he pressed the bell of Apartment 6D and then waited.
But not even the lines of exhaustion in his face could
mask the intensity of his concentrated attention. This
was a man who was used to waiting, but at the same
time, a man who could spring into action instantly, with
no perceptible lag, when action was required.
There were footsteps inside the apartment, A
hole in the door slid aside and a disembodied eye exam-
ined the man in the comdor. After a second or so, the
peephole snapped shut. Two locks ground noisily and
then the door swung OV*n on well-oiled hinges.
A woman stood framed in the doorway. Her age was
indeterminate. She could have been anything from
twenty-five to forty. Her grooming was perfect. nere
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NICK CARTER
was no flaw that any man could have found in her
makeup. Her figure was a thing of beauty. But like the
man in the corridor, her eyes were tired. cynical, and
all-knowing. There were no illusions left in her.
"Come in," she said quietly.
She walked from the door, not bothering to close it.
He moved in tkhind her and closed it gently himself.
One shelf of books in a floor-to-ceiling bookcase
swung out, and from behind it she a velvet bag. He
joined her at the table as she carefully unwrapped the
bag. It and the overhead light danced off a
jewel-encrusted watch, two diamond rings, a necklace,
and a matching pair of diamond eamngs.
The man screwed a jeweler's loupe into his right eye
and carefully examined each piece.
"He wants thirty thousand," she said.
"Jmrx»ssible. I can't move them without completely
remounting every piece, and the stones in the rings will
have to recut."
He folded all the pieces carefully back into the velvet
bag and sliPIXd them into his pcxket. Then he took a
thick roll of bills from another pocket and counted out
twenty thousand American dollars in one pile. He put
another twenty one-hundred-dollar bills in a second pile
and pushed it across the table to her.
"Your commission.
"Latos called from Marseilles. He's got a big score."
The man shook his head. 'Tell him to hold off for a
while and take nothing else. I have to out of the
country for a week, perhaps longer."
She moved close enough to press her breasts against
his arm. "Can you stay tonight?"
"No," he replied, rising and moving toward the
RUBY RED DEATH
"But it's been so long," she pouted.
67
67
must leave the day after tomorrow, and there is
much to be done."
*Ihe door closed behind him she could argue.
On the street, he paused to light a small cigar. Be-
hind the match and the spiraling smoke, he checked
every car, every movements every window as far as he
could see.
Only when his animal instincts told him it was safe to
move did he cross the street and get behind the wheel of
an ancient Opal
Two blocks away, a tall, slender figure in black
leather sat astride a Triumph motorcycle txtween two
parked trucks. The eyes the tinted shield of the
helmet watched the Opal pull away.
Only after it had made a tum did the rider start the
machine and follow.
Count Otto von Krumm's flat was the penthouse of a
seven-story building overlooking the Herbertstrasse, the
famous "Street of Hariots."
"It warms me," he said, "to tr able to look down at
any hour of the day or night and see all that sin."
It was a cheerful apartment, with three guest rooms,
a master tEdrcK)rn suite, a dining room, and living
room.
They came into the living room, and Otto dismissed
the girl with a kiss on the forehead and a pat on the
tx)ttom. When she had gone, he turned to Carter and
laughed, as if ashamed of himself,
"What will you drink?"
"Nothing, thanks. You want me coherent, after all."
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NICK CARTER
"Precisely. How do you expect to order your
thoughts without a drink? Scotch?"
"Thank you."
"A sober man is a depressing man." Von Krumm
walked to the bar and mixed it quickly. Then he pro-
duced four bottles with strange shapes and unfamiliar
labels. "I'm off scotch, myself. Too dull. Slivovitz with
a shot of absinthe. Gets the bl(xxi running." He rx»ured
and moved back to Carter with the glasses, handing
Carter the scotch. "To money and sin."
Carter grinned and drank.
"Now, then," von Krumm said, easing into the plush
sofa, "let's have it. I must wam you that my finances
are in an excellent state, so whatever you prom)se must
have aesthetic qualities as well as huge financial gain."
"First, is the castle at Bundesdorg suitable for
the first floor, or the dungeon?" von Krumm
chuckled.
'Te dungeon, actually. One, mayt* two. for at least
a week."
"It can be arranged. Will you need a keeper?"
Carter shook his head. "I'll bring my own."
"'Nuf said. Consider it done. What else?"
"Your father's old SS files. I want you to find a Nazi
who is dead but could be alive. He must be a man who
had access to vast loot and could have fled to South
America."
'That shouldn't be any problem. Then what?"
"You become that man."
Von Krumm started. "Oh, dear. He would have to be
close to seventy, All that makeup-—
'Otto," Carter interrupted, '*let me explain ..
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For the next hour Carter outlined his plan and what
they were going after, leaving out only Vadim Vinnick's
name. The more he talked, the more von Krumm be-
came interested. By the time the Killmaster was
through, the count was smiling like a cat eating cream,
and filling in details of his own.
"Lovely, lovely, Nicholas, a true tour de force! I'll
leave for the castle in the moming."
Carter sto«xf. He placed the wallet, credentials case,
revolver, and car keys he had taken from the Hamburg
cop on the table. Von Krumm leaned forward and
flipped open the credentials case.
reason for your delay?"
Carter nodded. "He does (Xid jobs for a Berlin
source. It's probably a central nurnt:w for all the East
bloc agencies who want surveillance done but don't
have a man of their own in place."
Von Krumm chuckled. "Certainly not in Hamburg. I
think the last man they had here fomicated himself to
death. What do you need?"
think I put the fear of hell in him, but it wouldn't
hurt to add an exclamation point to it."
"No probiem," Otto said. "I have a couple of friends
who can return all this to the gentleman and cause him
great distress at the same time. Anything else?"
"Yes. I was going to fly to Amsterdam tonight, but
they have another watcher at the airport. If you can get
me a clean car I'll drive over. Also, have someone drop
my rental at the airprt."
Von Krumm grabbed the phone and dialed. It was
answered at once. I ess than a minute later he hung up
and turned to Carter. "Do you know the Hansa Theatre
on Steindamm?"
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70
"Yes."
' 'The doorman's name is Kurt. Trade keys with him.
He'll point his car out to you."
Suddenly the blonde, completely naked, appeared in
the doorway "Otto, when do you come to bed?"
"Now, my dear," von Krumm replied, and traded
glances with Carter. "Isn't she lovely?"
"A true gem."
"Sure you won't join us?"
"Otto, you have no morals."
*Ihe count was laughing as he moved to the bedroom
door. "Absolutely none, my friend. Absolutely none!"
SEVEN
At noon Carter descended to the lobby: The desk
clerk caught his eye and beckoned him over. It was a
message from Lorena: Room 712, the Americain.
Carter went to a phone booth, called the hotel, and
asked for room 712.
"How lunch?"
"Sounds marvelous," she replied.
"The is near you."
"Twenty minutes," she said breathlessly, and hung
up.
Carter dialed a second number and waited several
rings it was answered. lhere was no vocal re-
sponse from the other end of the line. just silence.
would like to speak to Mortimer, please."
"Who wants him?" came the gravelly reply.
"Nick."
72
"A minute."
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72
"A minute."
It was almost five before the familiar voice came on
the line. "Mr. Carter, is it?"
"It is, Mortimer. How goes it?"
"The usual aches and pains but I manage to get
around. What can I do fer ya?"
"I have a job. It starts here and goes over the frontier.
Probably tüe a couple of weeks. Want to talk about it?"
"Love to. Business has been temble, it has, what
with this AIDS problem. All me girls are thinkin' of
tEcomin' secretaries, they are."
"At the place around six, Be dark by then."
GThat'll be dandy, Mr. Carter. We'll have us a pint."
Theers, mate," Carter said, and hung up.
He walked to the main canal and turned up Prinsen-
gracht to number Two. He passed the tunnel entrance to
the café's cellar that once led under the canal and was
used by seventeenth-century Catholics as a secret way
of getting together for worship. The Papeneiland
claimed to the oldest café in Amsterdam, tracing its
history back to its first coffin-maker owner who served
drinks on the side when business was slow.
"One, sir?"
"Two, for lunch," Carter replied.
He was shown to a table in the depths that needed the
candle on the wall to read the menu.
Lorena appeared right on time, looking a bit frumpy
in a scarf, a loose-fitting tweed coat, and knee-high
"Welcome to Amsterdam," she said, brushing his lips
with her own and taking the opposite chair:
"I'm having beer."
"Fine," she said with a nod.
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73
ne waiter brought a second beer and two newsp?.
per-sized menus. Lorena waited until he was gone be-
fore she SH)ke.
"Thank you for taking this on."
"l didn't have much choice. A very hard lady named
Ilse let me know that if I didn't, she was going to make
a corpse out of me."
"Ilse tends to exaggerate."
"Oh?" Carter said. "How well do you know her?"
"Not very well, but she is devoted to my brother."
"I know. And I don't think she was exaggerating."
"You're mad at me."
"A little," Carter admitted, "but I'll get over it. The
stakes are too high not to."
"How does he look?"
Carter decided to blunt. "Like any dying man with
the wolves nipping at his heels."
Lorena took it without blinking. "You had prob-
Caner told her the whole story At the part about
burying the woman in the snow he thought she might
crack, but she held up.
' Vlhen the situation is much worse. He has many en-
emies in the agencies of the other Eastern bloc coun-
tries."
' That's his problem," Carter said. "Mine is satisfying
his demands and getting that list. What about Fabian
"I've been following him for the last three days. He
is as wily as a fox. He has a house in the Boorstadt
district west of the city. Also two flats. One is in Dijk-
straat, off the New Market. lhe other is on Amstrel on
the canal. He never stays in the same place two nights in
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a row. He also has four cars scattered around the city.
He constantly changes them."
"A very cautious man."
"Very. Ihe house and both flats are like fortresses.
He even keeps dogs in all of them. I managed to get
close to him twice on the street. He's armed at all times,
a pistol under his coat in the back and another in an
ankle holster. And I'd say from the looks of him he can
use them."
"What about business?"
"Legitimately, he's a memtkr of the Diamond Ex-
change, but he's rarely there. He also has a small shop
on Potterstraat where he buys and sells ... legally. It
probably makes a pittance compared to his fencing. The
shop is run by one of his mistresses."
"One?" Carter replied, cocking an eyebrow. "How
many does he have?"
Lorena smiled. "Four, besides the one in the shop.
He's like a pimp, only they don't sell their txxiies. They
are contacted by thieves all over EurolE and the Middle
East when the thieves make a score."
"Huzel picks up and pays off through his mis-
She nodded. S 'Huzel himself never actually meets the
thief. The plice can't touch him."
"Not an easy man to pin down," Carter murmured.
"But there must be a way. In the meantime, let's eat."
They ordered hutspot, a steaming tEef stew with
kale, potat(ES, and sausage, all of it washed down with
excellent beer. Over coffee they resumed the discussion.
'*How about routine?"
women contact Huzel if they have anything. He
picks all of his messages up from a service."
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75
'*My God, Lorena," Carter growled, "you're making
this as difficult as hell. From what you've told me, there
is no way of figuring any one place he might be."
She leaned forward, her voice scarcely a
g There is one thing. It's a little bit of a long shot,
but s"
"What is it?"
"He's flying out tomorrow morning. The first leg is
to Paris, but I did a little bribing and found out that he's
bouncing from plane to plane. Ihe last leg is from Lis-
bon to Buenos Aires."
Carter's eyes narrowed. "That means he's on his way
to meet our pigeon. Doesn't leave much time
"Nick, I think I've found two weaknesses, maybe the
only ones he has, and they could put him into the open.
Huzel is deathly afraid to fly."
"So?" Carter said, listening with only half an ear
now. his mind racing, üying to pick apart what Lorena
had already told him.
"As I said, it's a long shot, but ... well, the other
weakness is his mother."
"Lorena... "
"Let me finish. His rm»ther's ashes are interred in a
tomb in Christ's Church. That's in Ijmuiden, about ten
miles west of Amsterdam. I hit on it when I was going
over the file my brother sent me on Huzel."
"I went over that file," Carter said. "Wait a minute. I
remember now. He visits that tomb every Sunday after-
noon. But what good will that do us? Tomorrow is Fri-
day."
"I was out there, Nick. I had a cup of tea with the
caretaker, told him I was a writer doing a story on ceme-
teries. I got the conversation around to people who reg-
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ularly tend the graves. Huzel comes so often that the
caretaker remembers him. Nick, he remembers several
other times—other than Sundays—when Huzel came
out to the grave."
Carter's eyes were wide. "You mean he's so afraid of
flying that he gcrs out and talks to Momma before he
takes off?"
Lorena nodded. 'The dates match with the travel
record we have in his file for the last six months. It's a
long shot, but... "
"But it's better than nothing," Carter said, dropping
some bills on the table. s 'I'll call you at your hotel."
Lorena grasped him by the elbow. "Why don't you
just come by?"
"A lot to do, but I'll try." He gave her a quick kiss on
the cheek as they parted in front of the restaurant.
He took a water taxi on the canals as far as he could
go toward the western part of the city. He got off at
Leidsestraat, the wide boulevard that led to the highway
into the west country. He found a cab idling at the curb
when he climbed the stone steps from the water's edge
to the street.
"Ijmuiden, Christ's Church cemetery."
Twenty minutes later he gave the driver some bills to
wait, and walked the old cemetery until he found the
Huzel tomb. Then he walked the checking
out every tree and finding the caretaker's shack.
Basically the area was level, but there was a rise
about forty yards from the entrance to the tomb. There
were a few trees and two large grave markers that could
used for concealment.
It would have to be done from there. Anywhere on
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77
the road itself or the approaches to the tomb would be
t(k) open.
He returned to the taxi and had the driver troll the
streets of the village until he spotted a long-term parking
lot beside a grocery co-op. One look told him that it was
also used as a commuter lot for the bus stop into Am-
sterdam. The coin machines would belch out tickets for
up to a week's duration.
"Where to now?" the driver asked.
S 'Back to the city," Carter replied, checking his
watch. "Just drop me a little east of the Damrak."
The driver's eyebrows shot up a bit, but he flirpt
his windshield back on and slipped the taxi into
gear.
Carter could almost read the man's thoughts. There
was no way a local could figure out a foreigner's tastes.
The well-dressed gentleman had visited a fine old ceme-
tery, and then wants to be taken to the red-light district!
ne seat of sex in Amsterdam is not as loud or as
garish as the Reeperbahn of Hamburg, but it is just as
varied and every bit as alive.
Twice Carter almost got lost. The little shows that
advertised sex aids, live sex, Ixep shows, and the eerily
crimson-lighted windows with scarcely dressed women
were so much alike that it was difficult to find a land-
At last he spotted the sign and turned into the Yum-
Yum Club. A king's ransom in guilders got him by the
bored matron at the doon Through dingy velvet curtains
he stepped into the dimly lit main room of the club.
The show was on. On a slightly elevated stage, a
young man and a not-so-young woman were locked in
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NICK CARTER
anything but love. It was all camal to the soft accompa-
niment of flutes and violins.
"You like a table down front? Good to see all the
action." He was shorter than Carter but twice as wide,
Chinese, and looked a little like a young Mao Ze-Dong
with muscles.
"No, the bar will be fine," Carter replied. "I have
business with Mr. Potts. Tell him that Nick is here."
"I will do that."
Carter was halfway through a stein of tEer when the
Chinese returned.
"This way, please."
Carter was led up a flight of stairs, down a corridor,
and up to a door marked Office. He could easily have
found the way himself, but the Chinese lcxyked like a
man who liked to do his duty.
Carter rapped on the door and a voice like velvet
said, "Enter."
The office was like day compared to the club tEIow's
night. It was a pleasant air-conditioned room that of-
fered Oriental rugs, a mahogany reading table with an
assortment of newspapers and magazines, all in Dutch,
a mahogany settee, and, in the corner and protected by a
desk, an almond-eyed girl with porcelain-smooth off-
white skin and straight black hair. She wore a bright
print dress and an exotic silver necklace, and she fin-
ished a line of typing before she glanced up.
"You are Mr. Carter?"
"I am,"
Apparently there was no intercom because she rose,
smoothed her skirt. at a dark-stained door. She
opened it and. coming up on one fcx»t and showing nice
legs, stuck her head around the edge.
RUBY RED DEATH
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79
Carter didn't hear what was said, but the result was
satisfactory. Pivoting on the same leg she canie to rest,
the door swinging wide and her balance regained. Her
smile and shy nod were his invitation to enter.
He smiled his way past her and entered hell.
Mortimer Potts's inner sanctum was chaos, litter and
rubbish piled ft»r-to-ceiling across the whole room. A
huge desk sat in the middle of it all, and the
desk, Mortimer Potts.
He was a little, thin man, mx»rly dressed in a baggy
suit, a soiled shirt, and a frayed red tie. A few wisps of
stringy hair flapped about on top of his head like rem-
nants dropped from someone else's comb.
S'Mr. Carten gar, it's good to see ya again!" He
extending his hand, and Carter moved forward to
shake it.
It was his smile that made Mortimer Potts lovable,
His lips were thin like his wrinkled face, but when they
parted, revealing a dentist's nightmare, his grin lit up
the world.
"Mortimer, you haven't changed a bit. Haven't seen
you in a year or more and I swear it's the same suit."
"'Course it is! Gar, I buy a new suit and the tax
people'll say I'm makin' money, they will!" He swept
old magazines, newspapers, and a few mouse droppings
off a chair. "Have a seat, lad. Jolly good of you to bring
some business me ways Mr. Carter. Times has been
bad."
Carter sat. "How's Miriam?"
"Died, she did. Ihree months ago, p€X)r thing."
"Three months ago? And you haven't remarried
yet?" Monimer had a way of picking wealthy, fat,
shrewish wives, but he always seemed to outlive them.
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NICK CARTER
To Carter's knowledge, the dearly departed Miriam had
been numtrr six.
"Ah, I think them days is over fer 01' Mortimer. I
just ain't young like I used ta be." He rubbed his hands
together and flashed another wide grin. "But enough of
me sorry troubles. What will ya be into this time?"
"First," Carter said, "can you be away for a couple of
weeks
"Oh, lord. yes. Got me that Chinee brother and sis-
ter. They run the place now, really. And honest? ney
account fer every What's up?"
Carter told him on a need-to-know basis.
"An' ya want me to stay with him in this bloody
castle?" Potts exclaimed when Carter had finished.
"Why not just kill the bugger?"
Tan't do that. I may need information out of him
along the way. I'll set up communications from wher-
ever I am to you, and you get out of him what I need."
"Ahs an' ya know I'm good at that," Potts cackled.
'*Wthen do ya want to snatch him?"
Carter stood and began pacing, ignoring the debris in
his path. "That's the problem. We've only got about
fifteen hours."
"Ah, dear me. What are we gonna need?"
"An ambulance, or a closed-in vehicle with red
crosses that could be mistaken for one. It should look
like it comes from a private hospital."
"Go on," Potts replied, scratching on a pad.
"A nwtorbike, old, something we can just dump in a
canal. Three uniforms, a driver, nurse, and intern. Some
medical palxrs showing he has a rare disease .. v"
"Terminal?" Potts asked, glancing up from his notes.
s 'No, but life-threatening would be good."
RUBY RFD DEATH
"No problem. Go on. Passports?"
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"No problem. Go on. Passports?"
81
"I should think we can use our own," Carter replied,
"but you might add medical identification."
'*Very well. How will you take him?"
g That's the sticky part," Carter sighed. "He's a very
nasty character, has a reputation of shooting people
when they get too near him. I'll need an air gun, power-
ful and accurate."
"A pellet?"
'Or dart. We don't want to have to perform any sur-
gery to get the l*llet out."
"That, of course, will be the hardest part, but I think
I can do it. Where are you stayin' T'
Carter almost gave him his own hotel, then remem-
berede "The Americain, rcx)tn Seven-twelve. Don't use
my name, just ask for the room."
*'The nurse?"
"Yes."
Potts stood. "I've got a lot to do. I'll call as soon as
it's done."
At the Americain, Carter the service stairs to
the tenth floor, then walked down to the seventh.
"Yes?" came a whisper in response to his knock.
"It's me."
The door was at once and he slid inside.
"I ordered a tray of sandwiches and some beer."
Carter kissed her lightly and sliprrd out of his coat.
They sat side by side on the sofa and ate.
"You went to the cemetery?"
"Yes. It's not but it will do. Do you think
that old caretaker would think it (Xid if you showed up
for coffee in the moming?"
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"No, 1 doubt it. Why?"
Carter dropped a small vial in her lap. "Two of those
in his coffee. He'll go out like a light and stay out for
about three hours. Chances are when he wakes up he'll
think he just made a boor of himself and fell asleep on
you."
"Gocxi. What then?"
He explained the whole plan to her, and where they
would be taking Huzel once they had him.
scan we trust this Mortimer chap?"
Carter ncxided. "Honor among thieves. If Huzel
wanted to put the snatch on me, Mortimer would be
more than happy to oblige. But since it's the other way
around and I'm paying him first, he'll see it through to
the end, guaranteed."
He finished the rest of his sandwich and sat back to
light a cigarette.
"How do we work it once we get to Argentina?"
Lorena asked, clearing away the tray and settling in be-
side him.
"I have another friend. His name is Otto von
Krumm. You'll go in with him as his daughter. Otto will
bc posing as an ex-Nazi. The two of you will put the
fear of God into Glaskov. H0EEfully, between you,
Otto, and myself, we'll have him so confused he won't
know what to do."
'VI don't understand .. e"
"You will. I'll go through the whole thing with you
tomorrow night at the castle. In the meantime, come
"I thought you'd never ask," she said with a laugh,
and slid across the sofa into his arms.
She put her arms around him, and her warm, firm
RUBY RED DEATH
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83
breasts, her long thighs, her lips, and her all
seemed to press against him at once. When he touched
her he felt her quiver like a thoroughbred. They clasped
each other furiously in a tangle of arms, legs, hands,
and lips. She lay back on the sofa and let him take her
with her head hanging over the edge and one foot on the
floor, like a schck)lgirl furtively making love in her par-
ents' house.
When they finally came back to their senses, she
laughed at the sight of her torn skirt, her panties crum-
pled into a ball on the flc»r, her unfastened bra and her
sweater pulled up around her neck.
"Shall we go into the bedroom and act like adults this
time?" she asked, grinning.
"Not nearly as much fun," he chuckled.
Then the phone rang. She answered it and handed it
to Carter.
'Got everything, Mr. Carter. Right down to the little
dart all diplkd and ready."
"Good work, Mortimer. Pick up the nurse in front of
the Americain at six in the morning. Where's the motor
"In the alley behind the club. Key's on a string in the
gas tank."
"See you then." Carter hung up. He turned to Lor-
ena. "I'll go out very early and make sure the two back
gates of the place are sealed off so we get no unwanted
mourners from that end. When you get there with Mor-
timer, go straight to the caretaker's cottage and make
sure he's taken care of."
She nodded her understanding and Carter stood, and
then frowned when she saw him righting his clothes.
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"You're not staying the night?"
Tan't. I'll stay in my own hotel. And sleep."
"Damn," she murmured, "just like a man."
The kiss at the door almost made him change his
mind.
EIGHT
It was still dark when Carter checked out with his
small flight bag and took a taxi to the Yum-Yum Club.
In the rear of the club he found the motorbike, a big
BMW.
One light rap on the door of the club and it was
opened by the bulky Chinese. Wordlessly, Carter was
handed a set of leathers and a helmet. He changed right
there in the tiny hallway and stuffed his clothes in the
bag. As he was leaving, he traded the bag for a long,
leather-covered case. This he strapped to the BMW and
kicked it into life.
Minutes later he was in the western part of the city
fighting a slight drizzle and heavy fog. The fog, he
thought, would be both good and bad. Hopefully it
wouldn't deter Huzel from talking to his Momma.
In Ijmuiden, he located the long-term parking lot and
fed coins into the meter until he had enough slips for a
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NICK CARTER
week's parking. Back on the bike to the cemetery and
church.
Everything was quiet and there was no light on in the
caretaker's cottage. He went directly to the spot he had
picked out, and hid the case containing the air rifle and
the case among the stones. Then he jogged around the
perimeter to the two rear entrances. As quietly as possi-
ble, he closed the gates and hung the No Admittance
signs on both of them.
Ihe fog was still heavy but the gray light of dawn
was valiantly trying to penetrate it as he rode back to the
village of Ijmuiden. He located a small roadside café
and sat at a front table by the window and had breakfast.
He was on a second cup of coffee when he spotted
the ambulance go past. His watch said a little after nine
o'clock.
He paid for the breakfast and rode the bike back to
the cemetery. At the main entrance he saw no sign of the
ambulance, but Mortimer, in a pair of blue coveralls and
a heavy jacket, was moving litter around with a rake.
Carter rode on through the cemetery to the care-
taker's cottage and honked twice. The door opened and
Lorena's head popped out.
"Done," she murmured.
Carter nq:xlded and wheeled the BMW around to a
lean-to in the rear of the cottage. He killed the engine
and jogged through the stones to his place of conceal-
ment.
When he had the air rifle out of its case and assem-
bled, he lifted one of the two darts that Mortimer hiul
supplied and pulled off the plastic cap over the point.
Then he crimped the fine plastic flanges and slid it into
the firing chamber. Next came the C02 cartridge. When
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87
its head was pierced, he heard the slight whoosh of air
release that would fire the dart. Carefully. he removed
the second dart's tip and set it on the gravestone beside
him. With the scope sight and the short range, he was
sure he wouldn't need it, but it was there just in case.
Then, resisting the desire for a cigarette, Carter
wormed his way down between the stones to wait.
The moment he heard the car the Killmaster became
instantly alert. Through the stones he could see the Opal
moving through the fog. It turned into the gate, passing
Mortimer without slowing. About thirty feet from the
tomb the Opal stopped and Huzel got out.
He was a handsome devil, Carter thought, if you
liked them mean. He would be a great success with
ladies who preferred their sex swift and brutal.
Huzel paused beside the car, his eyes taking in every
tree and stone. He took a cigarette from a black case and
The man, Carter thought, was like an animal, always
wary, alert. sniffing the air for danger.
At last Huzzl was apparently satisfied. He moved
forward.
Carter's eyes drifted from Huzel to Mortimer. He had
abandoned his rake and was closing the gate. He hung
the No Admittance sign and was gone. With the fog it
was doubtful that they would have any more visitors,
but the closed gate would provide some insurance.
Huzel was almost to the tomb now, a ring of keys in
his hand, When he reached the iron gate of the tomb's
door, he stopped and sliP}Hi one of the keys into the
lock.
Carter put the man's neck in the cross hairs of the
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sight. He wasn't moving. It was the simplest shot in the
world.
He squeezed the trigger.
The little dart entered the side of Huzel's neck and
hung there like an enlarged bee sting.
The carotid is the principal artery of the neck; it is as
thick as a garden hose. As Huzel felt the sting he jerked
his head back. His hand moved toward the holster, and
his heart pumped with dispassionate efficiency. Aneries
carry blood from the heart to the tissues. Ihis one went
straight—that critically short distance—to his brain.
The Killmaster was reaching for the second dart,
when Huzel pitched forward. He had barely hit the
ground when Carter whistled.
Everything had tren coordinated.
Lorena sprinted from the caretaker's cottage. She
opened the front gate just as Mortimer, in the ambu-
lance, drove out of the trees. Lorena didn't pause but
ran right to the back gates and opened them.
Carter methodically went through Huzßl's pockets,
transferring everything he found to his own.
"One shot?" Mortimer asked.
"That's all it took," Carter grunted.
Together they hefted Huzel to the rear. When the
doors were they sat him up and undressed him.
When he was dressed again in a hospital gown and a
heavy terry-cloth rot*, he was strapped onto the gurney
and covered.
Lorena appeared at the rear of the ambulance. "Care-
taker's still out, no cars on the road."
Carter produced the two rings of keys he had taken
from Huzel's pcxkets. 'Ihe larger ring held the keys to
his flats and house and probably his shop. Keys on the
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smaller ring txlonged to the fleet of cars he used.
89
Caner passed the car-ring to Lorena along with the
parking lot stamps, and then turned to Mortimer. The
man had already iEeled off the windbreaker, flannel
shirt, and coveralls. Beneath them he wore the white
smock and pants of a driver or orderly.
"Drive to the café the church and have cof-
fee," Carter instructed. "Lorena, as soon as you leave
Huzel's car in the parking lot, head for the ambulance."
Ihey both n«ided.
' 'Now," Carter said, "where do we rendezvous?"
"At Weesp, in the parking tot of the schml," Lorena
answered.
'Good enough," Carter said. "LA's move!"
Mortimer headed back toward the village first. Two
minutes later, Lorena followed in Huzßl's car. Two
minutes after that, Carter fired up the motorcycle and
headed for Amsterdam.
Carter felt a clammy sweat roll down his back as he
parked the bike and slung the courier's bag over his
shoulder. It was just past rxxm. He had already gone
through Huzel's country house and one of the two flats
in the city. He hadn't found what he was looking for in
either place.
Did Huzel keep the records of his foreign customers
in his head? Did he rnemorize every address, contact
methcxi, the telephone numtxr of everyone he bought
and sold from?
Carter hoped to strike pay dirt here, in the second
flat.
ne houses were all in a row, exactly alike, stretch-
ing from one canal to another. He located the
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and entered the hall. smells assailed his nostrils
and sornewhere a radio played jazz.
He tc»k the steps to the third floor two at a time and
attacked the I(Xk. The fifth key on the ring or:rned the
Ihe were closed. Carter found the light switch
by feel and flimxd it. He was in a rectangular room
with windows on both sides. Scatter rugs partially cov-
ered the bare floors.
He lifted each of the rugs. No safe.
There was a cluttered desk in one comer. It took him
five minutes to go through the on top and rifle
the drawers. He found nothing that would help him
down the road.
ne t:ædroom was nearly square in shalk, with an
alcove that held a stall shower but no tub. A double bed
with no fc»tboard stood against one wall, a mahogany
highboy against another. A small mirrored vanity
pied part of the third wall. Above the vanity mirror was
another, square mirror, slightly recessed into the wall.
Carter went through every drawer and lifted the
paintings on the walls.
Nothing.
ne kitchen, which was entered through the second
living room door, was just a kitchen, rather long but
narrow, and had no outside dc»r. The sink was yellow-
stained and with an open space and a garbage
pail trlow, and cabinets above. The stove was a three-
bumer with a small removable oven; the refrigerator
was ancient-looking and noisy.
Back in the living room office, Carter lit a cigarette
and made his mind work. It was possible that Huzel
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kept his illegal records in the safe of his legal shop in
the old town.
Possible, Carter thought, but not probable.
If the man was so wary about everything else, he
would esFcially paranoid about anything on paFr
that might send him to jail.
And the jewels.
The illegal jewels he was fencing had to be some-
where. Lorena had said that Huzel had made five
pickups in the time she had followed him. He would not
have had the time to resell those pickups.
Carter wandered back into the tEdrr»m.
Then it hit him. The mirrored vanity. Why a second
mirror, and why was it recessed into the wall?
He used a nail file from the vanity on the crack
around the mirror. Near tl•w bottom right-hand comer,
he hit an obstacle. He heard a click as he pushed harder,
and the mirror swung outward.
Carefully. he inspected the safe.
He found the maker's name, and closed his eyes for a
moment while he dusted off the files of his memory. He
recalled the system and it took his trained fingertips fif-
teen minutes to find the combination.
Ihe opening wasn't large but the safe was deep and
the whole of the back was filled with neat packets of
currency tx)und together with strips. And if the
new one-hundred-dollar bill on the top of the brick
Carter lifted out was an indicator, he estimated that,
give or take a few grand, he was Jcx)king at fifty thou-
sand dollars.
•mat figured, Caner mused. Huzel was in a cash
business.
Underneath the bills, he found a tray of diamonds
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and two velvet bags of miscellaneous jewels.
Now the safe was empty and he had still struck out.
Then he remerntEred the manufacturer and a particu-
lar added attraction to this model.
Five minutes later he located the pull release that
qrned a panel in the back of the safe. In the indentation
t*hind the panel was a flat logbook. One glance and
Carter knew he had what he wanted. It was all in ccxied
symtK)ls, but easy to decipher if the doing it
knew Huzel's business.
The jewels and cash he put in a pillowcase. It and the
book went into his courier bag. He closed the safe,
made sure everything was in place, and moved quickly
back to the street.
He rode to the Yum-Yum Club and entered through
the rear door. The tEautiful Oriental girl was in her of-
fice on the second floor. Carter dromrd the pillowcase
on the desk.
"Put this away for Mr. Potts. He'll tr back in a week
or so.
Back on the bike, he wound his way through late-after-
noon traffic to the southern edge of the city. Fifteen
minutes later he was coasting through the small village of
Weesp. He was just past the old school when tlr ambu-
lance pulled from the parking lot and fell in trhind him.
A mile outside the village he turned left into a narrow
tractor lane. Two hundred yards in front of him he could
see the Amstel River.
He up and pulled his feet up until he was
standing on the cent in a semi-crouch.
feet from the riverbank he straight into
the air.
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The bike sailed out over the river for several feet
before it fell into the water and sank out of sight.
Carter came to earth and rolled to his feet. Lorena
had the rear door of the ambulance open. He piled in
and at once began peeling off the leathers.
"You found it?" she asked.
Carter nodded. "Yeah. Mortimer?"
"I've just made you a moderately wealthy man."
'*Music to me ears," the man chuckled. and moved
the van back toward the highway.
The road switchbacked for about eight miles and then
the lights of the frontier posts gleamed through the fog.
A long straight street led directly to the Dutch side.
Potts dimmed his headlights and joined the line of vehi-
cles waiting to processed.
ne Dutch mrder guard barely glanced at Potts and
waved them through perfunctorily.
It was a different story a hundred yards farther on at
the German gate.
A stem-looking border guard poked his head through
the window.
Potts handed over the medical papers and their pass-
m)rts. ne guard carried the documents to a lighted win-
dow where a colleague sat.
"Don't sweat it if they check us," Mortimer mur-
mured. flows like the river Nile the other way
into the Netherlands and Amsterdam. but from Amster-
dam into Germany it's another story."
He was right. A minute later they were bundled out
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of the ambulance and it was searched. They and the
medical bags were searched.
"You are the doctor?"
"Yes," Carter replied.
ne guard gestured toward Huzel's blanket-covered
form on the gurney. "What is wrong with him?"
"A severe case of hydroxia pormangalia.••
S 'Eh?" the man said, taking a slight step backward.
"Is that a communicable disease?"
"Not at all," Carter replied. "He needs rest and con-
stant stFvision. We are taking him to the clinic in
Essen."
The papers were handed back to Potts, the gate was
lifted, and they were waved through.
On the other side, Lorena tapped Carter's shoulder,
'*What is hydroxia pormangalia?"
"Damned if I know," Carter chuckled.
There was no speed limit on the German side even
though they were traveling a secondary road and not on
the autobahn. In spite of the road conditions,
car after car, usually German, sped past them. Carter
shook his head. He was forced by circumstances to take
so many chances, he couldn't understand anyone taking
risks who didn't need to.
The German department of highways had apparently
never heard of rock salt or didn't believe in using it.
Although the roads were plowed, only the top layer of
snow was off, and the surface was covered with a thick,
rutty layer of ice and hard-packed snow.
"Blo«ly idiotss" Potts groused as a big Mercedes
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flew by them, fishtailing. the driver nearly losing it.
"It's getting close." Carter said. "Not much over a
mile."
It was exactly a mile. Carter pointed and Potts spun
the wheel.
'*My God," Lorena exclaimed, her eyes peering up-
ward through the windshield. "It looks like a Gothic
movie set!"
Carter chuckled. '*It does at that, doesn't it."
Potts wasn't happy. "I got to stay there? The place is
probably bloody haunted."
Otto Krumm opened the ma.ssive oak door just as
Carter stepped from the rear of the ambulance with Lor-
ena close him.
But it was a new Otto. His hair was silver and his
face was aged, with sunken eyes and wrinkles
over wrinkles. Even his posture was different, his
usually erect body seeming to be shrunken inside his
clothes. The voice when he spoke was wheezy, asth-
matic.
"What do you think?"
"Fantastic," Carter replied, nodding his appreciation
of the total make-over.
Von Krumm put out his hand. "So glad you had a
safe trip, Herr Huzel. Allow rne to introduce myself. SS
General Erwin Bittrich. I thought it txst that I outrank
the alias of our prey."
Carter smiled. "A wise decision. General." He ncxl-
ded to Lorena. '*Your daughter."
Von Krumm turned to the woman and extended his
arms. "Magda, my darling," he cackled, "it's so good to
see you again after all these years!"
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"When yer bloody family reunion is over," Mortimer
Potts said from the rear of the ambulance, 'Show about a
hand with this garbage?"
When Huzel was established in the dungeon room
that had prepared for him, the four of them re-
turned to a small study on the first flcx»r.
Von Krumm explained the arrangement to Potts. "He
has everything he needs down there. You can feed him
via the dumbwaiter, and communicate with him on the
intercom."
"He never has to see my face, then?" Potts asked.
"Never. There are three phones in the house, two in
the upstairs bedrooms, one here. Nick can reach you
direct if he has need of more information."
"l can also use you as a dummy," Carter added, "if I
have to make Glaskov think I'm getting prices."
Potts frowned. "How do I get the bloke to talk?"
"Easy," Caner replied. "Give him a choice ... talk or
starve. I go up to Frankfurt and fly out tomorrow You
two follow on the day after. Otto, can you have papers
ready for Lorena by then?"
ne count shrugged. 'SNO problem. We'll be traveling
with Swiss passports, a professor of law and his daugh-
Carter stood, tapping the book he had taken from
Huzel's safe. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of
deciphering and memorizing to do."
He left the room. Mortimer retumed to the ambu-
lance to fetch their bags. Von Krumm turned to Lorena
and put his hand on her knee.
"You are remarkably beautiful, a very sensuous
woman, my dear. I'm looking forward to the next week.
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97
I am sure we shall get along fine." His voice no longer
creaked with age.
Lorena lifted his hand and placed it on his own knee.
"I'm sure we will, Count von Krumm, if we tX)th re-
memtrr who we are... Daddy. "
NINE
Ihe flight was long and boring, a Lufthansa out of
Frankfurt nonstop to Rios He'd seen the movie twice
before on other flights, the food. even in first class, still
tasted like half-cooked plastic, and the foghornlike
snoring of the passenger seated behind him kept Carter
from getting much-needed sleep. Even the attentions of
the comely and well-endowed flight attendant did little
to ease the boredom. The 5:30 A.M. landing came none
too soon.
Customs gave him no trouble with the Fabian Huzel
passport, and less than an hour after landing he was in a
suite at the Leme Palace.
He direct-dialed the Rio office of Amalgamated Press
and Wire Services, Buck Waters's pnvate number. He
let it ring three times and hung up. He dialed again, let
it ring once, and hung up again.
Then he dialed the switchboard operator. "I'd like to
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