# Ruby Red Death3333

Лев Переводчик Шкловский

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send a telegram, please, and charge it to my rmm."

'Go ahead, senhor."

"Senhor Enrique Bolivar, Rancho Corinto, Paranavi.

Have arrived Rio. Await your instructions transl»rta-

tion. Suite Eleven-ten, I-Rine Palace, Huzel. That's it.' i

"Ihe girl read it back. "Will there tE anything else?"

"Not for the moment. Thank you."

Carter tiX)k the elevator to the basernent and the ex-

ercise, steam rcx»m, and POI.

"Just towels and a I(Eker, please," he said to the at-

tendant.

"No massage, senhor?"

'*No."

He undressed at the I(Eker and showered before

doing a few laps in the POI. Then he tied a towel

around his waist and entered the steam room. Two men

were already on the a fat, wheezing business-

man, and Buck Waters.

Carter climbed to the top tmch, settled back with his

eyes closed, and let the soothing steam envelop him.

Fifteen minutes later the fat man left and Waters slid

down the bench until he was right tBide Carter. He

took a Beretta automatic from his legs and

passed it to the Killmaster.

"What else do you need?"

"Put out the word that an old SS general named

Erwin Bittrich is heading this way to contact his Odessa

pals."

Waters chuckled. "What's left of the Odessa is a

bunch of old, old men who could care less anymore.

After Mengele went, the rest of them gave up. The

Fourth Reich is dead, Nick."

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"I know that and you know that, but some rrople

might still get antsy."

"Is someone really coming?"

Carter nodded. "Traveling Swiss under the names

Otto and Magda Goldolph. The Mossad got anybody

down here left as bait?"

"Yeah, a couple. I do a little checking now and then

for them, but they haven't turned any stones over for a

while."

"No matter," Carter said. "Put Otto in touch with

them. He'll take the ball from there. And let it be

known that he's looking for an old traitor, a

führer named Graf von Wassner."

"Will do. Then what?"

"Get Otto four good men, all lcrals and armed to the

teeth. He'll take it from there."

"Anything official on this?'

"Nothing on

"Jesus, Nick, the crap you come up with."

"Nature of the tEast," Caner replied, rising. "I've

in a steel cocoon all night. Gonna get a few hours'

sleep, then lay down a bit of a smoke screen."

"You want some company?" Waters asked.

"Not yours," Carter said with a grin. "Got a hunch

I'll have someone on my heels from the other side until

I leave Rio."

Back in the suite, he striprEd and passed out.

Jt was just after two in the afternoon when Carter's

mental alarm went off. He called rtx)tn service and or-

dered coffee. He showered and shaved while he was

waiting for it, then stretched out on the bed to drink it.

He was getting dressed when the phone rang. "Yes?"

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"There is an envelope in your box, Senhor Huzcl. It

came by messenger."

"Thank you,"

Ten minutes later he checked at the desk. There were

two envelopes. His name was scrawled across tX)th of

them, but in different hands. He riplkd opn the first

one, and smiled.

Welcome to Brazil, Herr Huzel, the note said in

fancy typed script. A car will pick you up at your hotel

at nine sharp tomorrow morning. Bolivar.

The note in the second envelope made the hair on the

back of Carter's neck stand up: Huzel: I am in Room

419. Give me a call this evening. Perhaps we could

have dinner and conversation. Verna Rashkin.

Ille note brought home to Carter the one chance they

were taking. The two he would be bidding

against for the jewels were Ravel Bourlein from Paris,

and Verna Rashkin from New York.

Vadim Vinnick's words came back to him: "It is

highly unlikely that such adversaries have ever met

face-to-face. All three of them make an effort to keep a

low profile. But it is possible. If that haprEns, you must

be prepared to change the plan midstream."

Carter slipped the into his pocket as he

entered the bar.

He would liked to have broached the problem after

he had arrived at Rancho Corinto.

Ihe hotel bar was amut half full. He took one of the

stools and ordered a vodka and orange juice. He sipped

it slowly, watching and listening to the others in the bar.

They were mostly couples, but there were a few solo

men, sitting alone as he was. Nobody seemed to be

paying any undue interest in him.

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He had a second drink and went into the dining

room. He had scarcely ordered when he was pretty sure

he spotted Bolivar's man.

He was dark and young, too young to hanging

around the lobby of the Leme. His manner and his suit

didn't indicate that kind of money. It was also the dark,

watchful eyes. They were trying not to dart Carter•s

way, but they did. And each time, the Killmaster picked

up on it.

Carter stretched lunch and lounged over coffee. By

the time he paid the check and walked through the

lobby, he knew he would have a tail. The dark young

man was literally dancing to be after him.

Outside, Carter crawled into the first cab in the line.

There were two names in Huzers book with his Rio

code, Roberto Perrez and Delgado Raffini. Huzel hadn't

done business with either of them for over two years,

but that wouldn't matter.

Carter gave the driver the address of Rotrrto Perrez.

Halfway down the block, he took a quick squint out

the rear window. He saw the young man dart from the

front dCK)r of the hotel and slide into a waiting sedan.

The driver had the car moving before the passenger door

was closed.

It was a working-class neighborhood filled with

apartment buildings, all dingy and looking alike. Carter

had the driver wait and went looking. There was a Per-

rez on the third floor of one building. He walked up

some stairs and rang the bell. After a moment the apart-

ment door opened and an old woman looked out.

"I'm looking for Roberto Perrez," Carter said. "Does

he live here?"

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"He used to live here," she said. She had a slight

accent.

wonder if you could tell me where I could find

him? Are you his mother?"

"I was his mother."

"l don't understand. Aren't you still his mother?"

'*My son is dead, senhor... almost seven months

now.

"Seven months?"

"How you know my son?"

"I did some business with him." Carter replied.

Her face suddenly became very hard. "Then you are

a thief like my son. That's how he die, stealing."

She started to slam the door. Carter held it. "I'm

sorry, Senhora Perrez, I didn't know."

'GO away. "

Caner fluttered two one-hundred-dollar bills in her

face. "The fact is, I owed your son some money. Since

he's gone, you might as well have it."

She studied Carter's face, then snatched the money.

The door slammed and he returned to the cab. The taxi

was waiting. So was the sedan, a half block away.

Carter gave the driver the next address and settled back

in the seat.

One look told him that the passenger in the sedan

was writing down the address Carter had just left.

He wa.sn't so lucky with Delgado Raffini. The Raf-

finis had moved and no one seemed to know where they

had gone. ney weren't listed in any phone directory,

but then the poor or the underworld of Rio were proba-

biy never listed, Also, the neighbors him for police

and would say nothing.

More for show than anything else, Carter tried the

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local stores. It was a druggist who, for a twenty droprEd

on the counter, came up with an address. He thought

that Senhora Raffini had returned to his store to fill a

prescription some time after she had moved. He dug

around in a drawer until he found it, and gave Carter an

address several blocks down the same street.

It was also an old, run-down building. Carter walked

up to the third and knocked.

The door was by a small, dark-haired woman

in her early thirties. She must have been very pretty

once, but now she looked gaunt and tired.

"Senhora Raffini?"

"Sim. "

'Td like to talk to your husband, Delgado, Is he

home?"

"Who you,

"No. I've done some good business with your hus-

band in the past. I haven't heard from him for a while."

She threw back her head and laughed. "And you

won't for a long while. The asshole is in prison!" Sud-

denly she pulled orm the loose robe she wore. She was

wearing nothing beneath it. "But you can do a little

business with met"

Carter pressed a hundred into her hand. "You tell

Delgado when he gets out that Amsterdam is still buy-

ing."

He left her with her mouth—and robe—still open,

and returned to the cab.

"Where to now. back to hotel?"

"Not quite yet," Carter replied. "Just drive around

for a couple of hours. Show me the city and a couple of

nice bars with naked women."

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Carter leaned back in the seat and smiled as he lit a

cigarette.

Bolivar's little would report back that Herr Huzel

was his usual self... always doing business.

Carter gave the two in the sedan fits for another two

hours. He stopped at several bars, establishing a routine

each time. ne driver would wait in front; Carter would

enter, order a drink at the bar, watch one of the strippers

gyrate a little, then return to the taxi and move on.

Each time, one of the two in the sedan—the young

one or his partner, a cut-down version of King Kong

with a Pancho Villa mustache—would check Carter

through the windows or enter and have a drink.

By six o'clock, as Carter expected, they got bored

with the game and just waited in the sedan.

It was then Carter decided to school them a little.

"Another bar, senhor?" the driver asked wearily

"Yes," Carter said, "let's go back to that first one."

The bar was about eight blocks from the hotel. When

the driver stopped, Carter pressed a fat wad of bills into

his hand.

"You've been a very understanding man. That's it for

today, but I do need one more thing."

won't be coming out of this one. But I want you to

sit out here for about a half hour before you leave. Got

"Sim," the driver said with a shrug, and picked up his

magazine.

Very little had changed inside in the past two hours.

fie customers were the same, just a little drunker. *Ihe

bartender polished the same glasses, and the same two

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girls were on duty, a redhead in a red dress vreling, the

blonde watching her at the bar.

Carter slid onto a stool three down from the blonde.

The redhead spotted him and moved down the runway.

Her red dress was resting on a chair at the end of the

runway and she was now down to panties and a halter.

She had a full-blown figure and she danced and strutted

with a certain grace as she whipped aside the panties to

expose a spangled G-string.

Carter glanced up and the halter came off to reveal

what seemed like naked breasts, the net bra being al-

most invisible. There was a long moment when she

faced him at the bar with wide-flung arms and a big

smile. Then the spot went off and she relaxed in dark-

ness. An instant later she had picked up the red dress

and, holding it in front of her, hurried down the steps

toward some black curtains.

The blonde had moved down to the stool beside

Carter's. She pressed her thigh against him and smiled.

"Change your mind?"

"Maybe," Carter said, returning the smile.

The bartender remembered him as well, and brought

him a light scotch, Carter took a sip, not really wanting

it.

"Buy me a drink?" the blonde purred.

"How much do you make off drinks?"

"Half," she said,

Carter slid a twenty under her arrn. She looked at it,

then him,

"Not here," she said. "My room, across the street."

Carter shook his head. "Is there a back way out of

here

"You in trouble?" she whispered, her eyes wide.

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"Nothing bad. I just need to shake a couple of bad

boys out front."

She the twenty into her cleavage. "See those

curtains back there?"

"Yeah. "

"Wait a couple of minutes and then follow me." She

slipped off the stool and sauntered away.

Carter waited, sipping the weak dnnk, then dropped

a bill on the bar and followed. The blonde was waiting

just inside the curtains.

S This way, through our dressing rcx)rn."

Carter moved in behind her down the dark hall and

through another set of curtains. The redhead, still more

or less naked, sat with her feet up on her makeup table,

reading a magazine and drinking a Coke. She never

looked up as Carter came through.

"This leads to the alley behind the club," She

opened it and pressed a piece of paper into his hand.

"You ever need anything else. the name is Gila."

"Thanks."

Carter stepped into the alley and the door closed

hind him. He started to throw the slip of paper away,

then thought, You never know, and pocketed it.

He walked in a wide circle to the rear of the hotel.

Just in case they had another watcher in the lobby, he

might as well confuse them all the way.

lhe freight elevator operator took him up to his

after Carter explained that he was in a hurry and

didn't want to go around to the front entrance. The op-

erator accepted the excuse and a tip with •a good-hu-

mored smile.

His key was at the desk, so he prowled up and down

the comdor, calling softly for the maid. Finally she

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popped out of a tiny closetlike room, blushing and rub-

bing her eyes sleepily. She unlcrked his door, smiling

oddly now, and when she strolled away the grin lingered

on her full, handsome face.

Carter shrugged, pushing open the and then he

realized that the lights were on and smelled the tang of

fresh cigarette smoke.

She was sitting in a low armchair, her slender legs

resting on an ottoman. She uncoiled and rrmred toward

him, her hand held out.

From her neck to the soles of her feet, she was cov-

ered in smoky black chiffon, so thin it was almost as if

the pigmentation of her skin had darkened and she was

nude. Her long golden hair was done up in two thick

braids and wound around her head like a moujik on

market day A gold chain was slung low around her

hips, and dangling from it was a large gold medallion

encrusted with semiprecious stones which, when it

wasn't swinging. served as an impromptu fig leaf.

"You never called me." Her voice was husky, low,

the accent Slavic.

"I've tEen busy," Carter said in Huzel's thick accent,

his body tense as he took her hand.

"I am Verna Rashkin."

Carter relaxed, dropped her hand, and stripped off

his jacket. "How the hell did you get in?"

told the maid I was your friend."

nat explained the grin, Carter thought. "What can I

do for you?"

She tcx»k a cigarette from her bag and fitted it into a

holder. "I would like to propose a merger."

"What kind of a merger?" Carter asked. She waved

the holder around a bit, and when Carter didn't produce

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his lighter she lit the cigarette herself, making a produc-

tion out of it.

"It is stupid for the three of us to bid wildly against

each other for Bolivar's gems."

"Three of us?"

"Don't tell me you don't know Bourlein is here. "

didn't," Carter lied.

"Who else but the three of us could handle a buy like

"True," Carter said.

She moved forward until the tips of her breasts al-

most touched his shirt. "As long as the two of us are

bidding together, we can outflank Bourlein."

"What if it's a closed bid, one time only?"

'Then we find out what Bourlein's bid is."

' 'How do we do that?" Carter asked.

' 'There are ways," she answered languidly. 'The im-

portant thing is that we don't run the bid up on each

other. Once the gems go to one of us, we spht with each

other.

don't like partners."

Her arms came around his neck and the hard points

of her breasts pressed his chest. "Don't tw a fool," she

whispered. "We can be more than partners."

The kiss started off slowly enough, but it soon be-

came feverish. Her lips were soft, knowing, insistent,

drawing his tongue to meet hers in a flame-flicking

duel Her small teeth were sharp, playful; they caught

his lip for an instant and he tasted blood. He bit back

and she broke the kiss.

"You play rough," she She leaned back

and looked at him from eyes that were eager. Her

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tongue darted out to lick a drop of bright scarlet from

her lip.

"I'll play any way you want. Just lay down the rules

and fill me in on them."

"I like it rough." She at his earlobe and

laughed when he pulled away. "Is that tcx» rough for

"Not at all." Carter looked straight into her eyes and

closed one hand over her breast. He purposely squeezed

it harder than was necessary. "How about you?"

' The rougher the better." She closed her hand over

his so that the pressure increased. Ihen her nails raked

the back of his hand and came away tiprrd with his

blcxxf.

With casual cruelty, Carter slamEd her

across tlr face. It left a red mark on her cheek. Her eyes

glowed briefly and then closed. "Again!" she sighed.

'Sl)o it again!"

"No," Carter growled. "You like it too much."

"Bastard!'i

She swung, but Carter caught her wrist. With his

other hand he picked up her purse and guided her to the

door.

"What are you doing?" she cried.

"Showing you the door, lady. Bolivar's no idiot. He

sniffs collusion between us, we'd never see home

again."

He opened the door and showed her into the hallway.

'S You're a fool," she fumed.

Carter slammed the and checked his shirt. A

few drops of blood—hers or his, or both—had stained

the front of it.

"Bitch," he hissed, and peeled out of it. In the bath

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he got his bleeding lip to clot and then pulled on a fresh

shirt. He was retying his tie when the phone rang.

Yes

"Herr Huzel?" The voice SIX)ke German with a heavy

French accent. Carter could hear a background

noise, a whirring, mechanical sound.

"Yes."

"I would like to meet with you."

"Oh?" Carter's voice was tentative.

"I believe I can be of great use to you."

'*In what way?"

U'l can help you. In your business."

Carter frowned. "What do you know about my busi-

ness?"

There was a tense laugh from the voice at the other

end. "I know all about your business, I'm afraid."

see. You have a villa to sell?"

There was a roaring laugh from the other end of the

line. "A villa? Dear me, you are an amusing man. Shall

we say, Hernando's at eight?"

The line went dead. Carter hung up, shaking his

head.

It didn't take a genius to guess that the man on the

phone had been Ravel Bourlein. Another gcxxf guess

was that Bourlein, like Vema Rashkin, wanted to make

a deal.

Nice little group of people, he thought. Then thought

again. Or a nest of vipers.


TEN

Hernando's occupied the basement of a condo high-

rise overlooking the ocean. It came with a canopy over

the sidewalk and a doorman who resembled a solemn

bear in a heavy coat with brass buttons.

He bowed Carter into a small gilt-and-red-velvet

lobby. There was a leather-padded door leading to the

inside of the restaurant.

Carter was surprised to find the place was large and

comfortably appointed. There were round white tables

scattered around the room, and the chairs were uphol-

stered in the same red velvet as the lobby. The subdued

lighting came from recessed ceiling fixtures. Taken as a

whole, the room seemed rather French and was some-

how soothing.

Ihe maitre d' was instantly at Carter's side. "Table

for

"I'm with a party. My name is Huzel."

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"Of course, this way."

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' 'Of course, this way."

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Carter followed him toward a rear booth. It was oc-

cupied by an enormous man in a white suit and a volup-

tuous brunette with a pouty mouth in a bland face.

"Ah, Huzel, welcome!" For his size the man was

quick on his feet. His handshake was limp with a

sweaty palm.

Again Carter relaxed. Obviously the man had never

met Fabian Huzel face to face. "Bourlein."

The same guttural laugh Carter had heard on the

phone. "I thought you would know it was me. Allow

me to introduce my secretary, Nanette."

The woman rolled her eyes up and cased Carter. She

seemed to like what she saw A little life came into her

face.

"Bonjour."

"Mademoiselle," Carter said with a slight bow, and

the two men took their seats.

drink, senhor?"

"A double scotch, neat," Carter said, and the maitre

d' glided away.

"It is good to rneet you at Iißt," Bourlein said,

spreading påté thickly on a chunk of bread.

Carter's drink came and he it, watching the

jowly man over the ruim of the glass. s 'Is it?"

"Of course. I admire good competition, and you and

I are the best."

"What about Verna Rashkin?"

Bourlein dismissed the name with a wave of his

hand. "A ruthless amateur. woman uses her sex

instead of finesse and good business practices."

"She paid a visit to my r(xjm," Carter said.

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"I expected she would," the fat man chuckled.

her way Did she try and seduce you?"

"Yes."

"None of your business."

Ten you didn't succumb. Gcxxi."

ne brunette asked to be excused; her makeup

needed tending. Bourlein let her out of the booth and

resumed his seat.

"I the bitch wanted to make a deal with

"She did," Carter said, noting out of the comer of his

eye that Nanette had made a detour past the powder

room to a bank of pay phones. "Probably the same deal

you're about to offer me."

"Astute," the big man said, and smiled slyly. "Of

course, my deal is much better."

' *Oh?" Carter lit a cigarette. ne brunette finished her

call and disalFired into the ladies' room.

"I calculate the resale on Bolivar's gems at some-

where around sixty million. It will take time, a great

deal of time."

'True."

to give you five million now, this very

night. A tidy profit for your trip, and you don't even

have to be involved."

Caner seemed to think it over seriously. The brunette

returned. Carter tried to read her eyes, but there was

nothing there.

"What if you are still outbid by Rashkin?" he said.

The smile was oily and cocksure. "l won't be. I hap-

Jxn to know that the bitch has able to raise financ-

ing for only half the deal."

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"So," Carter mused, "that's why she came to me."

' 'Of course. What do you say?"

"No deal," Caner replied, sliding from the booth. "I

already have buyers. No matter what you bid, Bourlein,

I can do

The jowly jaw set and the dark eyes became stones.

'€1 don't like to lose, Huzel."

"Tough shits" Carter growled. "Thanks for the drink.

think I'll have dinner at my hotel. I'd rather eat

alone. "

Carter tumed and left the restaurant. There were no

cabs on the street. A block to his left, he saw the black

sedan. His two watchdogs had picked him up again

when he left the hotel.

Then he spotted the second sedan, just like the first,

with two men slouching in the front seat.

He chuckled to himself.

Bolivar was watching them all.

There was a larger, more heavily traveled avenue

nearer the beach. Carter crossed the street and

walked down two flights of narrow stone steps.

He was almost to the bottom when he heard foot-

steps, one man, behind him. He quickened his descent.

Two more were waiting, both breathing heavily. They

must have run down from the street above to intercept

him.

The two figures moved closer, became faces, bodies,

young faces that were hard, young bodies that moved

with easy litheness.

S'We want your money, senhor," one of them hissed.

"Give us trouble and it will rougher," said the

other.

Carter backed against the pipe railing, curling his

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fingers around it. Behind him, the footsteps stopped.

Carter took a roll of bills from his pocket and tossed

it onto the concrete walk. 'That's all I have."

•niat stopped them for an instant. The two in front of

him looked at each other in a quizzical way, then the

leader bent down. He put the bills in his pocket and

moved forward again.

"I think maybe you got more," he snarled.

There was a small parking area for the beach. Carter

left the rail and moved to one of the cars. The one on

the steps came all the way down, and all three of them

advanced.

Carter was against the car now, his back to the

fender. He heard the flat slap of a sap hit against

the palm of a hand, and his eyes found the weapon in

the hand of the third one of the trio. Ihe other two wore

gloves on their right hands. The lead one grinned with

obscene anticipation and moved forward, the other two

following.

Carter waited, gauging, measuring, letting split sec-

onds tick off, and then he exploded into action.

Using the fender of the car as a lever, he kicked out

with both feet, twisting his body at the sarne time. The

blow caught the first one full in the abdomen, and

Carter heard his gasp of pain as he doubled over, went

down on one knee. fie other two mshed forward, ex-

pecting him to stand and swing back. Instead, he lifted

himself against the fender and flung himself backward

across the hood of the car. He heard the two crash

against the fender as he reached the opposite side of the

hood.

'Get him, dammit!" one snarled viciously. "Kill the

bastard!"

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Carter slipped from the hood to the ground, landing

on his feet as the pair came around the front. Out of the

corner of his eye he saw the third one starting to pull

himself to his feet on the other side. The two others

slowed, then started toward him again, and he caught

the dull glint of metal in the first one's hand. He

backed, and they continued forward.

He had toyed with the idea of can-ying the Beretta,

and then at the last minute had left it hidden in his

room.

He regretted it now.

One of them had a short length of piB2. Ihe leader

had his sap. To Carter's surprise, it was the third one

who came at him with his bare hands.

Carter didn't wait for him to swing. He stepped for-

ward and hit him just t*low the ribs. It was like shoving

his fist into a concrete wall. Then it was his tum. Before

Carter could get out of the way, he caught one high on

the cheek. It felt as if he'd been hit by a two-by-four.

Part of his face went numb. and there was a warn

trickle down his cheek as he fell backward to the

ground.

He looked up and saw a swinging at him. He

rolled to one side, grabbed the foot, and heaved as hard

as he could. For a brief moment he towered above

Carter, tottering on his feet. Then he went down like an

axed tree. His breath whistled as it was forced from his

lungs.

But then the other two came on like a pair of trucks.

The sap caught Carter high on the shoulder. *Ihe end of

the pipe went into his gut. He rolled and came up

swinging. He dropped one with a kick to the groin, but

the other two were in close and working him over.

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It was then he knew that they weren't trying to kill

him. They were too precise. Their intent was to cripple

him, and they were doing a gocxi job of it.

He was sinking to his knees, when the blows sud-

denly stopped. He got one eye open and saw the reason.

Chunky and the young one, Carter's watchers, were

methodically pistol-whipping all three of his assailants.

It was over in seconds and the young one came over and

helped Carter to his feet.

"Are you all right, Senhor Huzel?"

"Sore, a little bloody, but I'll live."

' 'The beach is very dangerous at night," he replied.

"Many muggers."

"l don't think so," Carter grunted. "You work for

Bolivar?"

"Sim," the man said. "We are told to watch over

you."

"So watch me," Carter hissed, and staggered forward

to where the leader lay prone in front of a car. He rolled

the youth over and went through his pockets.

He I(xated the wad of bills he had tossed on the

ground, and a second wad, even thicker. He shoved all

the bills into his own pocket and stood.

"Bourlein still in the restaurant?"

The young man shook his head. "He and his woman

left just after you."

"Is he at the Leme?"

"Sint."

"Give me a ride back to the hotel," Carter said, al-

ready heading for the stairs.

Carter skirted the lobby and signaled the bell captain

to follow him toward the elevators.

RUBY RED DEATH

"You need a d(Xtor, senhor?"

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' 'You need a dcxtor, senhor?"

119

"No. I need a bucket of ice and Senhor Ravel Bour-

lein's room number, pronto," He gave the man a bill

and pushed the button for his floor.

In his room he repaired his face and examined the

body bruises. The skin was already turning purple, but

nothing was broken.

There was a rap on the door and he let the bellman

in. "Bourlein?"

"He is in a suite, Twelve-twelve."

Carter gave him another hefty tip and shoved him out

the door. He built a scotch and drank it while he

changed clothes. Then he slipped the Beretta into his

belt and took the elevator to the twelfth floor.

"Who is it?"

s 'Bell captain, senhor," Carter said, in a high voice.

"You have a cable."

The door orwned a crack and Carter shouldered it

wide. He gave Bourlein two good shots in the middle of

his flab and then a hard one behind the ear on his way

down.

He kicked the dcx»r shut, locked it, and dragged the

fat man by his ankles into the suite.

The woman, Nanette, sto«xi naked except for a pair

of bikini panties, her mouth round in a silent scream.

"Not a sound," Carter growled. "Get some ice and a

wet towel."

She nodded dumbly, eyes bulging, and moved into

the small kitchen area.

"Move it!" Caner barked. "I'm in a hurry."

The woman had gotten her breath and a little nerve

back. "What the hell do you want?"

"A little talk with him... bring the stuff."

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She retumed, her vast bosoms jiggling and swaying.

She tried a hesitant smile, but one look at Carter's face

and she cut the act and thrust the ice and the wet towel

at him.

"Over here," Carter said.

To her astonishment, Carter gathered a fistful of

Bourlein's shirtfront and jerked him to a sitting position,

then lifted him into a chair. He motioned her around the

"Rub the back of his neck with the ice."

"Let me get some clothes on," she

Carter looked at her, stepped forward, and slapped

her. She went sideways, airborne. Her vision dimmed

with stars behind her eyes. She felt herself jerked

upright by her hair, held there by the aching, stinging

strain on her scalp until her wobbly knees found

strength and she stood. Just as she got her wind, the

throbbing pain along the left side of her face oc-

cupying her mind. She tried twisting away and the grip

in her hair tightened. Carter slaplkd her again, and she

shrieked.

"No, no!" she cried.

Carter said. "I don't like it either." He

tumed loose his grip wound in her long dark hair and

shoved. She stumbled across the room and fell in Bour-

lein's lap.

"Up!" he hissed, and she shot to her feet. "Use that

ice on the back of his neck."

She squealed and sprawled as she reached for the ice,

got it, and scrambled to her feet. She tilted Bourlein•s

head forward and began rubbing his neck with the ice,

Carter went to work on his face with the towel, back

and forth, one side, then the other. Bourlein began

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moving, then moaning, Finally he cried out and jerked

upright.

"What the—" he gasped.

Carter's face was inches from his. "Ihree bad local

lads tried to bust my head tonight," he hissed.

"l don't know anything about it..

' 'You ass. You tried to make a deal. I didn't dance.

So you tried to put me in a hospital so I couldn't be

there to make a bid."

"You're crazy."

"I don't think so," Carter said. "You had big boobs

here call the lads from the restaurant and give them my

description. There was no deal. You just wanted to get

me out of the way."

"No, I swear..

"Bullshit. " Carter looked up at the trembling woman.

She gulped and then nodded, once.

Carter dropped the towel, drew the Beretta, and

crammed the barrel between Bourlein's fat lips, shatter-

ing teeth. man reared back and the woman

squealed. Carter shot her a look, and she quieted in-

stantly.

'e' You hear me, Bourlein? Blink your eyes if you do,"

he growled.

Bourlein blinked. He tried leaning forward, making

gagging sounds.

'*Swallow it," Carter commanded. "Swallow it all,

you bastard." He rammed the gun barrel hard, feeling

the high, ribbed front sight rip the of Bourlein's

mouth, rammed until the tngger guard rested against his

fat lips, inches of cold steel gun barrel gagging him,

choking him, his eyes bulging.

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ne woman kept making tiny mewling sounds, like

those ofa kitten in pain.

"Let me give you your itinerary for the next few

hours, fat man. You're going to call the desk and have

them get you a car. fien you're going to check out and

you're going to drive to Säo Paolo. Bolivar's watchdogs

will follow you. They won't know what's going on, and

by the time they figure it out you and Nanny here will

on the first flight. You got that? I don't give a shit

where the flight goes, just so it's out of the country and

you're on it. Ncxi if you understand."

Bourlein didn't move. He just stared pure hate at

Carter from his tudy eyes.

The Killmaster cocked the Beretta. "So long, fat

The head started nodding.

Carter wil*d the barrel on Bourlein's shirt, stuck the

gun back in his trlt, and headed for the door, where he

paused.

"If I see you at Rancho Corinto, Bourlein, I'll kill

you."

He the elevator to the fourth and kncxked

on 417. He heard the padding of bare feet and then

Vema Rashkin's sleepy voice.

"Who is it?"

"Fabian Huzel. Open up."

*Ihe door orxned and Carter slid inside. She backed

away and he kicked it closed. Her hair was tousled and

she wore only a sheer black nightgown, low in front,

that stopped at midthigh. Under the black garment's

gauzy transparency, her smooth pink-and-whiteness

gleamed and shimmered as she moved. The black mate-

rial rustled around her, more like a dark mist than a

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cover, heightening her nakedness rather than concealing

it. But in the end her flesh glowed with blinding incan-

descence.

"What do you want?" she whispered.

"You made a a little while ago. Is it still

Suddenly she was bright-eyed and alert. "It is."

' 'Then you've got a deal," Carter said.

"You won't regret it. I'll bet Bourlein's bid as soon

as we get to Rancho Corinto."

"From Nanette?"

Her eyes narrowed. "How did you know?"

"I didn't," Carter said. guessed. You'd never get

to Bourlein. It had to his whore."

She shrugged. "Nanette's tired of him, and I offered

her a good retirement plan."

"l upped your offer," Carter said. "Bourlein won't be

bidding. It's all ours."

She couldn't conceal her surprise. "How did you do

"Proper conversation," Caner said. "Aren't you for-

getting something?"

'*The rest of your offer."

Her lips parted showing sharp, white teeth. "All

night," she whispered. "I'm going to make love to you

all night."

Her hands slid down her thighs, to the hem of the

nightie just above her knees. Still moving slowly, she

raised it, revealing her long, slender legs inch by quiv-

ering inch. When it was at a rx»int just below the junc-

ture of her legs, she swayed her txxly around so that her

back was to him. The nightie inched up higher and now

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he could see the firm, high globes of her buttocks. Her

rhythmical movement quickened. ne muscles of her

derriere rippled and the flesh to jump with a sort

of erotic frenzy.

Then she quickly pulled the garment over her head,

fiijpi it away, and turned to face him.

He let his eyes roam over her body, at the firmness

and the matunty of her breasts, the sweeping curve of

her hips. She seemed to delight in feeling his eyes on

her. for she lifted her long hair with the tips of her

fingers and turned around slowly, displaying herself.

"Well?" she murmured.

"Nice," Carter said, "damn nice. See you in the

morning."

"What?" she cried.

"Just wanted to see if your word was gcxxi," he said

over his shoulder as he let himself out. 'Night."


ELEVEN

Carter was the first one down the next morning.

Young-and-lean and short-and-chunky were waiting for

him in the lobby. They looked tense, so Carter was sure

they had gotten the word on Bourlein and his busty

brunette friend.

The young one grabbed Carter's bag, "The car is in

front, Senhor Huzel. The hotel bill has been taken care

of by Senhor Bolivar."

"Nice of him."

Carter followed him out the door. The little sedan

had been replaced by a Mercedes limo. Carter crawled

in the back. Seconds later, short-and-chunky emerged

with Verna Rashkin. She joined Carter in the rear with a

smirk on her face.

didn't notice your face last night. You look like

hell."

Carter smiled. "I feel fine."

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Actually. he was sore as hell. The crack across the

bridge of his nose had blackened both his eyes, which

were a puffy lavender-brown. His lips had swollen. giv-

ing his face an even more prognathous look than nor-

mal. n'je above his cheekbones. over his eyes and

at his ear made him look like the comic-strip caricature

of a man lately thrown out of a beer hall.

The limo pulled into traffic and they were silent all

the way to the airport.

The plane was a twin-engine Bonanza, not new but

in excellent shape. The bags were loaded and Carter

buckled himself in. He was surprised when the woman

seated herself as far from him as possible. He wasn't

surprised when the two watchers crawled in and

seals in the rear.

lhe pilot didn•t even turn around. He already had the

off-side engine humming. The hatch was barely secure

when the second engine burped to life and the tail

swung around.

In no time they were in the takeoff area and turned

into the wind. He spoke into his headpiece and ad-

vanced the throttles.

The takeoff was smooth and they climbed about five

hundred feet minute. The pilot began a 90-degree

left turn, followed by a 45-degree right tum, in order to

leave the traffic pattem. He leveled off at three thousand

feet. The green and brown earth dropped away below,

and they headed toward the never-ending blue sky.

Ille Bonanza followed the ribbon of coastline below.

From this altitude it looked like a chemist's bizarre ex-

periment—browns, greens, blues. and grays moving

between sunlight and shadow. The shoreline itself often

became obscured by mountains dropping into the water.

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About twenty minutes after takeoff there was another

bank to the right and they headed inland. Carter looked

down at the dense jungle and shuddered slightly. He

hoped he wouldn't have to come back out on foot.

Short-and-chunky played steward. Verna Rashkin

wanted a Bloody Mary. Carter declined anything and

leaned back on the headrest. He forced himself to half-

doze for the next hour, until he felt the plane start its

descent.

The flaps came down. ney banked 45 degrees into

the wind and swooped over the shimmering asphalt run-

way. Mountains and water diminished as the plane de-

scended. The landing gear the wheels down,

and then the olane was bumping and squeaking along

sun-softened pitch seams. The pilot taxied right down

the runway to the first Quonset-style hangar. The crack-

ling, robotlike voice from the control tower reaced.

The pilot turned in his seat. 'Tlis is Paranavi. The

helicopter will take you the rest of the way."

They scrambled down the steps and under the wing

of the Bonanza toward a blue-and-red helicopter whose

rotor was already t*ginning to tum.

Once inside, Carter removed a pair of dark glasses

from the pocket of his jacket and put them on against

the glare in the helicopter's bubble.

'*Is it far?" he asked the pilot.

"Not far," the man replied, m»inting toward the

mountains. ' 'Up there, maybe twenty minutes."

It was nineteen. fie chopper sw001Rd low, flying

over a large estate surrounded by mountains. nere

were several barns. fields of grazing horses and cattle,

small barracklike houses, and a lake.

Ihe chopper roared over the outbuildings and Carter

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heard a gasp from across the aisle. He looked, and saw

why Verna had gasped.

The house was awesome, a huge, rambling affair

built of stone and glass. It was set directly against a jut

of mountain rock that provided EErfect protection from

the rear. To the right were the garages, servants'

quarters, and accommodation for guards, ten of whom

Bolivar kept in permanent residence, on a rotating basis.

The stables for the horses were to the left, where there

was more land available. The center of the huge wind-

ing drive was permanently watered, and therefore

green, garden area, with a playing fountain and a blaze

of flowers.

"He must own the whole valley!" Vema exclaimed,

"Probably," Carter replied dryly, "and most of the

mountains as well."

The helicopter landed on the lawn and the engine

was killed at once. They stepped to the ground to be met

by a striking blond woman, so tall that her eyes were

level with Carter's, She sported a voluptuous, hourglass

figure in a white crocheted sweater of an open-weave

stitch, and jade green, silk slacks. A matching green

cardigan draped over her shoulders obstructed most of

the view. The only jewelry she had on was a large

square-cut emerald on the third finger of her left hand.

Its color matched almost exactly the color of her eyes.

She was beautiful—ten years and twenty B)unds less

and she must have been spectacular.

"J am Eva, Senhor Bolivar's housekeeFr, Anything

you need while you are here, do not hesitate to ask me.

Senhor Bolivar is hunting at the moment. He will join

us for dinner. This way, please. I will show you to your

rooms." Her accent was Bavarian and it was heavy.

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They moved obediently her. Carter

at any thne to hear The Ride of the Valkyries.

Up close, inside the house was even more immense

and awe-inspiring. It was two stories high and

like an L, with the short arm cantilevered out over a

sloping landscaped hill. The short arm was only a single

story, and comprised the living room, with the terrace

right alongside; at right angles was the long arm, two

floors of trdrooms, a dining rcx)rn. and probably a

study as well. Carter's room was on the second floor,

near the bend in the L.

The entire building was constructed from glass and

stone, and inside and out, it was sharp, clean, bare, and

srn€»th. The unsparing, almost harsh quality of the lines

was broken by the use of bricks to add tex-

ture, and the low stone walls that ran around the house,

screening it from the view of anyone for miles.

' Slhis is your room. Herr Huzel. You, Fräulein, are

across the hall. Your bags will up shortly. The pool is

in the center courtyard, if you care to swim."

She clorn1Ed back down the hall and disappeared.

Carter looked at Verna. Her mouth was open. "Awe-

some, isn't it, in the middle of nowhere?"

"It is that."

"Care to pool it?" Carter asked.

"I think I'll sit in a tub."

"Suit yourself."

Inside the room, Carter went over it. In ten minutes

he found three bugs. From his window he could see a

brace of four armed guards patrolling beyond the walls

around the house.

Short-and-chunky entered the rc»rn without knocking

and dropped Carter's bag on the bed.

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"I searched your luggage," he grunted.

"My G(XI, it talks," Carter exclaimed.

"And your gun."

"l figured you would," the Killmaster said with a

smile.

Much to Carter's surprise, the swimming pool was

highly rx»pulated, all women. They were predominantly

blond, and German was the common language. Only the

bottoms of bikinis were worn.

He dived into the pool and after five fast lengths got

rid of the kinks from the previous night's fight. Feeling

tktter, he climtRd out and sat on a stool at the outdoor

bar.

"A drink, mein Herr?" Carter turned. He was tall,

built like a tank, and very Aryan. 'SMY name is Ber-

nard."

"Yeah," Carter replied. "Ein Bier. All these lovelies

Bolivar's guests?"

Bernard shrugged. "In a way. They are flown in for a

month at a time, two or three times a year. They liven

up the parties and keep the guards happy."

Carter sipped his beer. Bolivar, he thought, probably

got a lot of loyalty out of his troops.

A well-built girl parked a well-built thigh on a stool

two along. She ordered an orange juice and smiled at

Carter:

'*You should try it with vcxtka. It brightens the day,"

he suggested.

"I don't drink. You're German?"

He nodded. "But I live in Amsterdam."

"I live in Bremerhaven. I went to the university."

RUBY RED DEATH

ran out of money."

• Oh," Carter said. '*And that's why you're here?"

4 'Ihat's why I'm here. See you."

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• 'I ran out of money."

131

* Oh," Carter said. "And that's why you're here?"

' 'Ihat's why I'm here. See you."

She walked around the pool and Carter watched her

until she entered the house. He turned back to Bernard.

"l understand Senhor Bolivar is hunting. What's

good up in the mountains?"

"Men," Bernard replied calmly. S 'Retpls. It's been a

good week. He has bagged five."

S 'Good sport," Carter said. managing a smile.

He watched the of beauties a while longer, and

then wandered into the house. There was a maid here

and a maid there, but no one seemed inclined to stop

him so he kept wandenng.

At the far end of the first floor, he heard radio chatter

and a That would figure. If Bolivar never left

the place, he would need some kind of constant commu-

nication with the outside world.

He climbed to the second floor and continued to

move around until he found a trapdoor that went up to

the rc»f. He had already guessed that there would be

access to the rtX)f from the inside. and was elated he had

found it so soon.

He moved on through the rest of the rooms until he

entered what he assumed was Bolivar's office. It was

book-lined, the desk a fine piece of English walnut, a

fireplace mantel adomed with carvings of horses, The

top of the desk was clean save for the usual ashtrays and

pens. *Ihe top drawer was Icxked. He found a letter

opener and, working crudely, the lock and

yanked the drawer out. He sat down in the chair and

began to rifle through the pacvrs and file folders, mov-

ing from the top drawer to those at the side.

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What he found was enlightening. Bolivar was rich,

but he was also very overextended. Vinnick had been

wrong about the man's reason for wanting to liquidate

the jewels.

Bolivar needed the cash.

Carter replaced the desk as he had found it and

tumed to the wall. A large print of a steeplechase hung

on the wood-paneled wall. He lifted up one comer, his

eyes narrowing. lifted again, and removed the entire

print.

The wall safe, neat and flush to the wall, stared back

at him. It was an old one, he saw, a combination lock. It

would take time and patience to OFEn, he thought rue-

fully, more than he had now. He put an ear to the dial,

turned it carefully, played with its clicks, counting,

making mental calculations.

After another minute he knew that, given time, he

could crack it.

Just as he replaced the print, he heard footsteps in the

hall. He tugged a book from the wall and (Wied it.

Big Eva came through the door, saw him, and came

up short. "You are looking for something, Herr Huzel?"

"Ja, a good book to read," he replied, glancing down

at the book and then back up to her with a smile. "But

everything in here seems to tR in Russian."

Eva-the-Amazon had informed them that drinks were

at eight, dinner at nine. At eight sharp, Carter de-

scended the stairs. From the great room he heard the

sound of music, guitars, drums and marimbas.

He entered the great room to see a three-piece band

in a far alcove. and preparations for a huge buffet being

made along the opposite wall. There were about twenty

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people, mostly the young women he had seen by the

pool that aftemoon. Interspersed among them were a

few young, unsmiling men in gray trousers and dark

blue blazers. Besides the clothes, each of them had a

hard, alert quality to his darting eyes.

Then Carter realized. This was part of the security

force, the new stormtroopers. They had no brown shirts

or Sam Browne tplts, no jackboots, but stormtroopers

they were.

He was working his way toward the bar when he saw

Sergeant Boris Glaskov alias Enrique Bolivar. He was a

bull of a man, with shoulders and arms that stretched his

dinner jacket. Despite his relatively short stature, he

was a commanding presence, with cropped white hair,

the sharp eyes of a condor, and thick, cruel lips.

He was deep in smiling conversation with a woman

whose back was partly to Carter. She had a long, lithe

figure in a sleeveless, backless, almost frontless white

gown, eyes that were black-olive moist and deep. He

saw skin, browned and burnished as if dusted by gold,

long black hair and a straight nose, full, sensuous lips.

He saw a woman who glowed outside and inside, smol-

dered with a throbbing, pulsating earthiness.

Then he recognized her as the girl from Bremerhaven

he had met by the pool that aftemoon.

A little makeup, a change of hairstyle, and clothes,

he thought, can make a hell ofa difference.

He had just reached the bar when Bolivar spotted

him and started over.

"What would you care to drink, Herr Hurl?" It was

big blond Bernard.

"You have long hours, Bernard."

A shrug. "The compensation is good. Scotch?"

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"A double, one cube."

"Herr Huzel, we meet at last." Bolivar didn't offer

his hand. He bowed sharply from the waist.

"Senhor Bolivar," Caner said, executing the same

bow. "a pleasure."

"We must talk, privately."

"Of course."

'"here is a sitting room, this way. Bring your drink."

Carter followed him from the Just outside the

door they were joined by another man.

"Umtrrto Grossman," Bolivar explained, "my head

of security."

Grossman was tall and athletic, handsome in a heavy

way, with slick black hair and an arrogant mouth. He

took Carter's measure and then seemed to dismiss him

with a nod.

'Imey entered a small sitting room with chairs around

a fireplace and not much else. Bolivar waved Carter to

one of the chairs, and took the other: Grossman became

a statue by the dcx.)r with his hands in an at-ease position

over his crotch.

"I am disappointed, Huzel. I asked you here to nego-

tiate a fortune, and you attempt to do business with two

petty thieves." The way he sat in the chair, slightly for-

ward, his hands on the armrests, made him look like a

predator.

"You mean Perrez and Raffini, of course."

"Yes."

"I do business wherever there is business. There is

always the chance I would lose the bid here, so 1

thought I might pick up a few baubles from those two

for my trouble."

Bolivar accepted this with a scowl. "That brings us

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to something else. What to Bourlein? I know

you had something to do with it."

Caner lit a cigarette and let the smoke slide slowly

from each nostril. "l had everything to do with it. He

offered me a deal. I turned it down."

"What kind of a deal?"

"A five-million buyout, and I go away. When I re-

fused the deal, he paid to have me hospitalized so I

couldn't here to bid. Really, I think his three hired

thugs would have tried to break me up even if I had

agreed to the deal. As it tumed out, I told him to go

away."

' Sl'hat, t(X), is interesting," Bolivar said. "Ravel

Bourlein is a hard man, ruthless. He doesn't give up

easily. How did you convince him?"

Carter glanced at Grossman to make sure he was lis-

tening. "l stuck a Beretta down his throat and told him if

he showed up here, I would kill him."

"Just a threat like that, and he went away?" Bolivar

scoffed.

Carter leaned forward, set his jaw, and lowered his

voice. "He knew J meant it. Now, since I am the only

bidder, suppose we get on with it. I have to get back to

Amsterdam. "

Bolivar's eyebrows shot up. "Ihe only bidder...

' '"Ihe Rashkin bitch dcrsn't have the financing for the

entire collection. She wants to rig the bid with me and

take half."

From the lcx)k on the old man's face, Carter knew

Bolivar had not done his homework. It was also a pretty

good bet that Bourlein had. Bolivar tried to bluff it

through.

• There are other brokers," he said, and shrugged.

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*'Bullshit," Carter growled, "not for the kind of mer-

chandise you have." From the comer of his eye he saw

Grossman take a step forward. He whirled on Bolivar.

"Tell your personal goon that if he takes another step I'll

rip off his arm and shove it up his ass."

Grossman puffed up like an adder. Bolivar held up a

hand to calm him, and then leaned back in his chair,

suddenly relaxed. He even smiled, something Carter

was sure he did rarely.

"You live up to your reputation, Herr Huzel. I admire

a man who has no qualms about achieving his ends. Tell

me, would you have actually killed Bourlein?"

"Without a thought."

Ihe black eyes narrowed. "Yes, I believe you would.

How much are you prepared to pay?"

"1'11 make an offer when I see the collection."

"Fair enough." Bolivar struggled to his feet, using

the stick. He commented on it. "Would you believe?

Arthritis. I never thought I would grow old."

"Is that why you surround yourself with youth?"

Bolivar's hard eyes bored into Carter's. "Yes, that is

part of it. I am a very rich man. But like so many Euro-

Bnns in South America, I cannot venture too far from

this fortress I've built."

'"You mean, prison?"

Again Bolivar smiled, but, like the clown, the

corners of his mouth turned down. "A way of putting it.

So I bring the world to me. The buffet should be served

by now. Shall we?"

"Fine," Carter said. "Will I be able to see the collec-

tion tomorrow?"

"Perhaps."

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They moved into the hall. Just before they entered

the room, Bolivar paused.

"By the way, in your travels, have you come across a

man named Goldolph Otto Goldolph? He has a

daughter named Magda. She is an older woman, I'm

told quite still."

"No, I've never heard the name."

"What about Bittrich ... Erwin Bittrich?"

Carter stopped, forcing his face into a mask of stone.

"l would think that you, of all people, would know that

name."

Bolivar matched Carter's look. His hand came up

like a claw and grasped the Killmaster's lapel with sur-

prising strength. "Why, Huzel? Why should I know that

name?"

Carter became flustered. because

"I assume, mein Herr," Carter said, of the

old days, the glory days."

Bolivar got hold of himself. Vinnick had been right.

The man, without stating anything sFcific, had passed

himself off in the South American German community

as one of them.

"Yes, the old days, of course. But what of Bittrich?"

"I deal with a great many Carter replied.

"As you know, discretion is imperative."

"But you know who is who?"

"Yes."

"About Bittrich. Tell me about him. I would consider

it a great favor."

Carter gave him a quick rundown of Erwin Bittrich's

Nazi career, and ended with. •s... his last command was

the Twenty-first Panzers, stationed in Romania."

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If it was possible with his sun-burnished skin, Boli-

var's face bx•ame flushed and then seemed to lose all

color. He swayed slightly on his stick until Grossman

grabbed his elbow.

Carter knew why.

Graf von Wassner was intelligence security for the

Twenty-first Panzers. As such, he would have reported

directly to General Erwin Bittrich.

The ball was rolling, and soon it would gather speed.


TWELVE

The sound of the helicopter warming up awakened

Carter. Early-morning sun slanted through the windows,

already preparing the room for the day's heat.

He moved off the bed, a bit creakily. Unidentifiable

muscles and joints creaked and cracked. His feet hit the

floor, and cursing Ravel Bourlein, he shot himself into

an upright position and moved across to the windows,

He was just in time to see Bolivar hurry across the

grass. Grossman awaited him and gave him a hand into

the chopper. The moment the hatch was closed behind

the security chief, the machine rose into the air. The tail

twisted around and the helicopter headed southwest as it

gained altitude.

Not in the direction of Rio or Säo Paolo. Carter ob-

served, but toward Uruguay, or Argentina.

Bolivar had probably tx•en on the horn all night try-

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ing to contact all the old Nazis he had attempted to be-

friend through the years.

Would they have the word yet that Otto was looking

for von Wassner?

What would Bolivar tell them? He couldn't tell them

the truth. He certainly couldn't tell them that he wasn't

the real SS Gruppenführer Graf von Wassner. And if he

continued with the lie that he had come to South Amer-

ica because of his Nazi ties, the old guard would start to

insist on him telling them just what those ties were.

Caner smiled to himself. Bolivar was going to have a

very busy day.

He punched the button on the house intercom and

ordered coffee. Then he moved into the bathroom. *Ihe

shower blasted warm and then cold needles through his

body, and he felt alive again when he emerged.

Still wet, he climbed into a pair of swim trunks and a

thick pool robe he found behind the door:

He found a tray with coffee and croissants on the

balcony table. There was also a note on plain but ex-

pensive stationery: Huzel: I have been called away on

an important matter. Please forgive me. We will con-

elude our business tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Carter thought. Did that mean Bolivar

and his chief of security would be gone overnight? He

hoped so.

He was on his second cup of coffee and his first

cigarette when his bedroom door was thrown open so

hard that the inner knob crashed into the wall.

A very irate Verna Rashkin stormed into the room.

She wore the same nightie he had seen the previous

night. The difference in appearance between then and

now was in the flesh beneath and around the nightie,

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There were bmises on her arms and shoulders as well as

her hips and thighs.

"You pig ... you bastard!" She said more, but it was

so garbled with anger that Carter could make no sense

of it.

"Calm down, Verna. Coffee?"

"You told Bolivar I wanted to make a deal with you!"

'Tat's right."

"You pig "

'*You already said that."

She went straight for Carter's eyes with her talons

out. He caught one wrist, then the other, and tossed her

on the bed. She still struggled, but she was no match for

his body weight.

"Did he tell you about it before he took you to bed

. or after?" Carter said smoothly.

"He's an animal," she cried. "He abused me half the

night, and then this morning told me to get out!"

"So that's where the bruises came from."

She ncxlded, "I'm to be taken back to Rio sometime

today."

Caner chuckled. "I thought he dished out your kind

of sex. You probably enjoyed every minute of it. "

Vema tried to knee him in the crotch, but he took it

on the thigh. "Why did you tell him that I didn't have

the backing to make a bid?" she hissed.

"Because you don't."

"But how did you know?" She was practically

screaming now.

"Because Bourlein told me." Suddenly she went

limp. Carter held on for a few seconds to make sure she

stayed that way, then released her and stood. "Want

some coffee now?"

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She nodded. "And a cigarette."

He gave her both and poured himself a fresh cup.

"Tell you what I'll do."

"What?" She was sullen now, defeated, but not liking

it.

"I'll make this trip worthwhile if we can work a little

trade-off."

Her eyes flashed. "I don't do trade-offs with bas-

"Yes, you do," Carter said, and smiled. "You traded

your body to Bolivar last night to get a leg up on me.

He just didn't trade back."

She bristled for an instant longer, then her shoulders

sagged. "What do you want?"

"I want you to stick around. I'll clear it with Bolivar,

and I'll make it worth your while."

She was intrigued but she didn't jump right in with

both feet. "What will you tell him?"

' That I need a second opinion on the jewels...

weight, authenticity, the American market."

Carter kept his eyes out the window, staring at the

women playing water polo in the pool. He also held his

breath until he got an answer. Verna Rashkin didn't

know it, but her skill in authenticating the stones would

invaluable. He was fair with a jeweler's glass, but

not in her league. If Bolivar tried to toss in some good

paste, she could spot it.

She was in front of him then, the anger gone from

her large eyes and replaced with dollar signs. She took a

deep drag on her cigarette, parted her lips, and let the

smoke curl out slowly over her moving tongue like a

long kiss.

"How much?" she murmured.

RUBY RED DEATH

"Enough to make the trip worthwhile. "

' enat's not enough."

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"Enough to make the trip worthwhile. "

' enat's not enough."

143

"That's all you're going to get. Let me know, I'm

going for a swim."

He left her and headed down to the pool. The heli-

copter was landing and most of the women were headed

for the house. He saw Bremerhaven doing laps, and

dived in to join her

"Good morning," he called.

"Not really," she replied, rolling into an easy back-

stroke.

"Oil?"

They hit the side of the pool, crawled out, and sat,

"Big Eva told us this morning that the chopper would

take us in shifts over to Paranavi, then on to Rio."

S 'Anything odd about that?"

"I suppose not," she said. "It's just that we were sup-

posed to be here for a couple more weeks. Well, I'd

better get packed. Nice meeting you."

S'Ja, the same."

Carter watched her walk around the and then

into the house.

Bolivar was clearing the decks. It could only mean that

he was expcting trouble and he wanted no one on the

scene who might carry word of it to the outside world.

Carter smiled to himself.

Otto had done a good job of tapping into Rio's un-

derground information pipeline.

He ordered breakfast and ate it by the pool. When he

was finished, he spread out on a chaise in a position to

watch the guards move around. They were all armed

now, and they seemed more alert than they had been the

previous day. Now and then he spotted some of them on

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horseback riding the outer fringes of the estate,

By the helicopter had made three trips and was

loading a founh time.

'*Herr Huzel?"

Carter looked up. It was the Amazon, Big Eva, and

she had fire in her eyes. "Ja?"

"I have been instructed to put Fräulein Rashkin on

the helicopter this morning."

"l know. She told me."

"She refuses to go. She tells me to talk to you."

'That's right. I've decided to put her on my EErsonal

payroll for a while,"

"I cannot do that. I was told—

will explain it to Senhor Bolivar."

"I cannot do that. I was told—

S *What are you, a machine?" Carter barked. "She

stays. I'll take care of it."

For a moment he thought she was going to throw him

into the pool. They had a staring match, and finally she

backed down and stalked off.

Carter the sun for another hour and then re-

turned to the house. He searched out Eva.

"Fräulein Rashkin and I will go for a ride this after-

' 'That is impossible. I have been told—

"Inform the stables that we'll be down there in half

an hour."

He left her stuttering, and climbed the stairs to rap on

Verna's door. It opened at once.

' 'Get dressed, we're going riding."

Her mouth twisted into a grimace. "l hate horses,"

"You need the air," he growled. "Half an hour."

He entered his own room, took a quick shower, and

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dressed. Vema was ready when he knocked on her door

again. and they walked down to the stables.

s 'Why do you want to ride?" she groused, almost

running to keep up with his pace.

'To commune with nature."

The stableman was a grisled old Indian who said

everything in grunts. They were tx»th barely mounted

when he disappeared back into the building.

They had scarcely left the main compound when a

mounted guard fell in behind them. Carter could see two

more tracking them in a parallel line to their right and

left.

"What do you know about Bolivar?" Carter msked.

She shrugged. "What's to know? He's a Nazi who

got out when the getting was good."

"How did he first contact you?"

"l do a lot of business in Spain and Portugal. It was

through a third party." She glanced at him. "Why the

ihird degree?"

"No particular reason," Carter replied. "Have you

sold much of his stuff?"

"A few small pieces. I didn't know until a few weeks

ago that he had this big a horde. He sent me a shopping

list, invited to bid."

Carter was silent for a few seconds, and then asked,

"Why do you suppose he's bailing out now?"

"You mean you don't know?" she asked, obviously

surprised at his question.

"You tell me," he said.

"I only know rurnors, but I've heard that he was

pretty heavy into oil speculation when the bottom

dropped out. Also, the new govemment in Brasilia isn't

as easy on alien residents as the former administration.

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He probably wants cash in case he has to run."

Carter nodded. "That's about the way I figure it."

'They reached the perimeter of the estate and made a

wide swing through the hills. At the lake, a mounted

guard would let them go no farther.

It made no difference.

Carter had seen everything he needed to see.

It was one in the morning and the house was quiet as

a tomb when Carter slipped from his room. He walked

to where he had seen the trapdoor and gently pulled the

ladder down. It moved quietly on its oiled springs.

He climbed and pulled the ladder up after him. He

lay flat, moving back from the door, a motionless shape

under the stars. He crawled across the rcx)f on his belly.

At the edge, he rolled over and toe-walked the stones

along the wall, grasping the drainpipe with his hands.

At the rim of the L, he dropped from the second-

story r€X)f to the first. There was some sound but not

enough to raise any alarm.

A huge old tree practically abutted the roof above the

kitchen. He got to the ground limb by limb, and melted

at once into the shadows.

It took him nearly a half hour-to crawl through the

compound, get over the wall and around the stables.

Twice he had to curl into a ball in the shadows and

await passing guards.

At last he reached the edge of the rain forest. He

used footpaths for the first two hundred yards, but it

was still difficult moving through a dark tunnel with the

thick vegetation blocking any hint of the moon and

stars.

It was dark now, very dark, not with the blackness of

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the night, but with the almost total absence of any infil-

trating light. Only the immediate area around him, a

few feet, no more, was visible at all. When he stopped

to rest he could feel the dampness caress him like a

fleshy hand.

Then suddenly the forest was behind him and he was

in a clearing with the lake directly in front of him.

He stripped to his shorts and hid his clothes and

shoes against a huge tree. Then he got his bearings from

the stars and slid into the inky water.

The lake was shalRd like a large half-moon. He took

to the water close to the center on the concave side. It

was about three hundred yards across, and he alternated

his strokes to save his strength.

He had scarcely pulled himself out on the other side

when Otto, in green fatigues, his Bittrich disguise cast

aside, slithered from the trees.

"You're only ten minutes late. Good man. This way."

Wordlessly, Carter followed him into the jungle,

where a short, wiry man awaited.

is Jorge," Otto said. "Good man. All four of

them are."

Carter nodded. Jorge grunted and the lead.

• 'How far?" Carter asked.

"About a mile," Otto replied. "Jorge knows this area

like the back of his hand. There are ruins of an old

mission. We've made camp there."

Somehow, Jorge found paths through the trees and

vines. In minutes they were in a little hollow. And then

they were in a stone-walled compound. Because of the

ever-present forest, constantly growing, Carter hadn't

recognized the stones until he was among them.

Likewise, he didn't see the light of the fire until he

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