# Ruby Red Death44444

Лев Переводчик Шкловский

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was practically on it. Lorena was crouched beside it, the

light dancing off the fine bones of her face.

She stood the moment she saw Carter. ' "lha.nk God,"

she "We were afraid you wouldn't be able to

get through."

"It was fairly easy," Carter said, brushing his lips

across her cheek. 'They're watching from the outside

in. Where are the others?"

"Out there, watching, just in case," Otto said, open-

ing a flask and passing it to Carter. "How goes it so

Carter drank, letting the liquor warm his belly, and

sat down between them. ' The Erwin Bittrich ruse

worked. Bolivar is shook up. He flew out this morning.

My guess is he'll try to shore up his position."

Otto laughed. "He'll have a bloody hard time of it.

Mossad boys passed me around to several of the

contacts they've made. Mostly they were minor people

in the government who pass information along to what's

left of the old Ihird Reich."

"And?" Carter said.

"l let it be known that my dear comrade Graf von

Wassner was killed by one of his own men."

"Did you name Bolivar?" Carter asked.

"No, but with dates and the Portuguese connection,

the right rrople will put two and two together."

Caner lit a cigarette and stared into the fire. S 'With

any luck, Bolivar will see the handwriting on the wall.

Without government sponsorship, he can't stay in Bra-

zil. If the old Nazis won't help him, Argentina and Uru-

guay will be out."

Lorena hadn't spoken. Now she looked from the fire

to Carter. "Which way will he jump?"

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"My guess is he'll take what he can salvage and go

underground. Ihat could be anywhere."

"Have you seen the jewels yet?" she asked.

"No. Ihat's supposed to happen tomorrow, when he

gets back." Carter tumed back to Otto. "Did you bring

everything?"

The big man nodded. "Six pounds of plastique and

twelve detonators. Here."

Carter took the watertight trlt and fastened it around

his waist. "I'll plant the house and some of the outbuild-

ings on my way back in."

"What time do we make them go boom?" Otto

asked.

"Let's make it after dark. Seven should be good.

They do love to eat and drink, and even with his trou-

bles I don't think Bolivar will change his habits. They

should be off their guard. By then I'll have my back up

and will force Bolivar to let me start appraising the

gems."

Carter stood, shook hands with Otto, and Lor-

ena by the ell.x».t. He guided her outside the walls to the

edge of the clearing and faced her.

"Now you have to make up your mind. "

know," she said, averting her eyes.

"With or without the jewels, he'll run. Chances are

he won't have much to run to. He wouldn't have ex-

pected all this to come down on him."

"What are you asking me?"

"You know damn well what I'm asking," Carter re-

plied, putting a bite in his voice. "We both know the

jewels are only haff of this ball game. My half."

Her eyes came back to his, steady, unblinking. "I

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don't know how I will do it, but I will do it. Bolivar is a

dead man,"

Carter nodded and called for Jorge to guide him back

to the lake.

Revenge, he thought, is a very malignant disease.

It was slow going. Several of the guards had been

pulled in off duty, so Carter had to evade for

several minutes tefore he could climb the and

plant the last charge on the of the house.

The gray predawn light was just creeping into the sky

when he lowered the spring ladder from the roof and

dropped down into the hallway.

'Ihe house was quiet as he made his way to his bed-

room.

He was just reaching for the knob, when it opened

and Umberto Grossman stepped through the door. His

fist was full of a very large magnum. A split second

later the door trhind him opened.

Carter whirled.

Bolivar, with a second magnum, confronted him.

"I've just had an interesting cable forwarded from

one of my people in Rio."

"Oh?" Carter said, gauging his chances against the

two revolvers.

"Yes, from Fabian Huzel. Just who the hell are you?"

Carter was about to reply, when a fist thudded into

his kidneys. A sharp chop behind his right ear did the

rest of the job.

All he saw was black as he hit the


THIRTEEN

When Carter came to, his neck and right shoulder

were a mass of pain, intense, throbbing pain. He lay on

his belly, and perhaps another minute passed before he

heard the groans. It was another minute before he real-

ized they were his own.

Then he concentrated, first to stop making the silly

noises, and then to find out where he was.

It wasn't easy.

He began with his fingers and then his toes. Every-

thing moved. He (Wied his eyes. A window. Daylight.

But his eyes wouldn't focus.

Fingers first, he pressed down, and groaned again as

his shoulder muscles worked. Deliberately, he shut off

the pain and continued to press until he sat up.

He looked around slowly, wary of what he might

find.

And then he saw her. She sat in a chair at a table; the

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single eye that wasn't swollen shut stared fixedly at

him. One side of her face was a swollen, purple bruise.

He could see fear crawling slowly, obscenely across the

rest of her face.

"Who are you?" Her voice sounded as if someone

had been a tattoo on her vocal cords.

need a drink. Water." She made no move. His

hands slipped and he almost fell from the bed, then

pushed himself up again.

Verna Rashkin stood and laboriously moved across

the room to a sink. She filled a glass of water and stag-

gered back until she stood in front of Carter.

"Who are you? They said you weren't Huzel."

"I'm a con man and a thief," he growled.

He reached for the water and she threw it in his face.

nen she turned and made her way back to the chair.

She barely made it. when the door and Umtrrto

Grossman entered. A second man tcx)k up a post by the

door.

"Who are you?"

"Christ," Carter hissed, "everyt»dy around here has

the narrowest vocabulary I've—

The side of Grossman's foot caught him in the ribs,

sending him reeling from the bed. When Grossman

stepped forward for another kick, Carter was ready. He

grabbed the foot and twisted. As Grossman fell, Carter

used the leverage to gain his own footing.

But the room was spinning. He drew his foot back to

stomp Grossman, but there the motor action ended.

ne stormtrooper type at the leaped forward and

got an armlock around Carter's neck. He was held while

Grossman scrambled to his feet and slammed Carter low

in the gut.

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The guard let go and Grossman hit Carter in the face,

rocking him groggily against the wall. He hit Carter

again, slamming his head against the wall. His legs

turned to water and he slid slowly down the wall, trying

to protect his face with his arms.

"We know what you did to HuzeL He escaped from

your dungeon, or whatever it was. He is flying to Rio

now. Who are you!"

"A thief... I'm a thief."

' 'You are a fool," Grossman grunted, and went to

work with his feet.

Carter was slipping away, when from somewhere far

off he heard a voice, Bolivar's, telling Grossman to

stop, that he would be of no use to them dead... not

yet.

The door slammed, and Carter did slip off for a few

moments. Gradually, his mind began to activate again.

He felt his head being raised and then life-giving water

was flowing down his throat.

He OErned his eyes and saw Vema's beaten face.

"Thanks."

"You really must be a thief," she said, "or one hell of

a fool."

"Grossman do that to you?"

She shook her head. "Eva. She loved it. I thought I

was kinky. She's gone."

"Where are we?"

*'In a room above the stable."

Somehow, with her help, Carter got to his feet and

across the room to the sink, He turned the tap on full,

cold, and put his head under. He came up for air and did

it again.

It helped. When he wiped the water from his eyes,

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they worked. Now he could tüe a hard at Verna.

ne fear was still in her eyes, only now it as if

she was on the border of hysteria.

"You look like hell."

She nodded. "l feel worse." She stepped forward and

leaned against his chest. There were no tears. Verna

wasn't the type for tears. But her body was shaking.

"They're going to kill us, aren't they," she whispered.

'They're probably going to u-y," Carter said, and set

her gently on the bed. "But I think there's time to do

something about it."

And then it hit him. Time.

He Ic»ked at his wrist. His watch was smashed,

stopped. "Vema, your watch does it work?"

"Yeah ... it's ncx)n. Why?"

He remembered the bugs in his room. "Nothing. I

have a thing about time, I hate to lose it."

He cased the room. The smell of leather made him

guess that it had once been a tack room. The window

wasn't barred, but there was heavy mesh over it and

there were four panes in it. He'd have to kick the glass

and the metal ribbing out before he could even get to the

mesh.

In the stableyard below he could see a guard loung-

ing against the walL He had an M-16 slung over his

shoulder, and his eyes were looking right at Carter in

the window.

ne door was solid wood, inches thick. He tried it,

very gently, knowing it would locked. He stood

against the door, ear under the sharply angled ventilat-

ing slats, and listened. Someone moved, and paused for

a long time, and moved again, this time with a slight

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click-click that Carter knew to come from a gun swivel.

A guard.

He looked around some more. He needed a weapon,

a club, anything. Seven hours until boom-boom time.

He had to be off and running txfore then.

Then the bed came to mind. He lifted the springs and

found a hardwood slat. It was broad for his hand, but

solid and heavy.

Vema was watching him. "Against ..

He put a finger over her lips and then his lips at her

ear. "To use an old cliché, the walls have ears."

For some reason that brought life. "Bastards!" she

yelled. "You're all bastards!"

He couldn't use the slat until seven. He replaced it

and stretched out on the bed. "There's nothing we can

do. We might as well rest."

"You're right," she sighed, and stretched out beside

him. She was silent for several moments, then, "You

know. I still don't like you."

"I affect some people that way," Carter said with a

yawn.

It was a little after four. Verna was asleep on the bed.

Carter was at the window. He had been there for some

time, It allowed him a good view of the helicopter.

For the past half hour, men had been shuttling from

the house to the chopper and back. They had camed file

boxes and briefcases, and now and then an occasional

suitcase.

Bolivar was running, but not for good. If he were

Icaving with no intent of coming back, the Killmaster

was fairly sure the man's greed would dictate evacuating

the works of art scattered around the house.

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So far, everything that had been to the chopper

seemed to relate to business. More than likely he had

found a safe place to settle in until the heat on him

would blow over and he could quietly return and liqui-

date before finding a new hole to crawl into.

Where were the jewels? On the chopvxr? Perhaps. Or

maybe not on the estate at all. Maybe they had been in

Rio, in a safe-deposit box, all along.

There was a sound at the door and Carter moved

away from the window, on his feet, ready, The door

swung and Umberto Grossman stocxi in its frame,

an automatic like a toy in his big fist. He lcx)ked at the

sleeping woman, then at Carter, and rolled his head to-

ward the outside.

"He wants to see you."

ney moved in procession, a guard in front, Carter

and Grossman, and a second guard bringing up the rear.

"I would like to kill you very slowly," Grossman

muttered out of the side of his mouth.

"You've already had a good start," Carter said dryly.

Grossman ignored him. ' 'Bolivar wants to make a

deal with you. I would advise you to take it."

They crossed the compound and entered the big

house. Carter noticed that several guards were strung

along the way.

Good, he thought; the perimeter of the estate would

probably be like a sieve.

ney entered the great room, where Bolivar sat at the

end of the long dining table. In front of him and on the

floor by his side were open file boxes. With glasses on

the edge of his nose, Bolivar was refiling some papers

and discarding others into the roaring fire behind him.

There was a second chair to his left. Carter felt the

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hairs ripple on the back of his neck. On the table in

front of that chair were two large leather cases. *Ihey

were flat and rectangular.

"Sit," Bolivar said without looking up,

Carter sat. "Can I have a cigarette?"

Bolivar nodded. Grossman shoved one between

Carter's lips and lit it, not worrying much if the flame

caught Carter's nose as well.

The old man finished with his current pile of papers

and looked up, removing his glasses,

"I managed to get through by telephone to Huzel in

Amsterdam. He told me everything that he couldn't put

in a cable."

Carter crushed out the cigarette, resisting the urge to

ask how Huzel had escaped from Mortimer Potts. He

also hoped that Potts was alive.

"Why did you take Huzel's place?" Bolivar contin-

ued.

Carter leaned back calmly. "l have fair contacts. I got

the word you were selling. I wanted to make a good

score. I Huzel out and impersonated him. "

Bolivar grimaced. "I wish I could twlieve that."

Carter shrugged. '*It's true."

"I have done extensive research over the years. Very

few dealers are financially able to convert a buy of this

size. If you were one of them, I would know atX)ut you.

Who are you?"

Carter shook his head. "I can get the cash. You have

the merchandise. Once we made a deal, I didn't want to

look over my shoulder while I was converting it."

This seemed to make Bolivar pause to think. It was a

full two minutes tEfore he glanced over Carter's

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shoulder and nodded. Grossman stepped forward and

opened the two leather cases.

Suddenly the room seemed to explode with new light

and color, all of it emanating from the interior of the

cases.

Random unset jewels—diamonds, emeralds, and

rubies—gleamed from their personalized niches in the

layers of felt. ne display was dazzling, and in the

center of one case was the most dazzling of all ..

the bloodred, huge Heartstone.

"As you can see, I did not bring people here for

nothing," Bolivar grunted. "Now I would like to know

your source of finances i"

"I can give you a number and a code," Carter lied.

"A lot of my financing is through certain gentlemens'

accounts in Switzerland, of course."

"Of course," Bolivar replied dryly. "How much of it

is through Odessa?"

Carter looked as perplexed as possible. "What?"

"Odessa, you son of a bitch," Bolivar hissed. "Were

you supposed to lure me somewhere else to settle the

deal, or were you going to try and assassinate me right

here?" He was on his feet now, his eyes full of fury and

his face flushed.

"Odessa is a bunch of dying old men," Carter re-

torted, standing himself. don't know what the hell—

Behind Carter, Grossman tried to kidney-punch him.

The Killmaster slid to the side, avoiding the punch, and

whirled. He brought his knee up into Grossman's crotch

with enough force to drive the man's sex up into his

belly. Grossman doubled with pain and fell to the floor.

It was futile and Carter knew it. Both guards rushed

him from the rear of the room. ney covered him like

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an avalanche and he went down under their combined

weight.

Bolivar leaned over him, his florid face only inches

above Carter's. '*You're going to die. But before you

do. you're going to let your contact know that your mis-

Sion was completed. It won't free me forever, but it will

buy me time. Take him back to the stables!"

They half dragged, half carried him back across the

compound and up the steps. He was thrown into the

rcx.»rn with such force that he bounced off the opposite

wall beside the window.

Verna was awake, sitting wide-eyed on the tx•d star-

ing at him. Carter motioned her to him with a wagging

finger. She moved like a zombie and crouched beside

him. He twisted her wrist around and looked at her

watch.

It was almost six o*clæk.


FOURTEEN

The time was near. He might even be cutting it too

close. He glanced at Verna. nankfully, some of the fear

in her eyes had been replaced by a resolute anger.

Out the window he could see that her plea to the

guard had worked. The Amaznn, Eva, was hurrying

across the courtyard.

He had gone over the entire room and found it bug-

free. Their biggest hope now was twofold. One, that

Eva would be very sure of her position and enter the

room alone. Two, that what Carter had to say would sap

her caution long enough.

Verna sat on the bed. Carter stood by the window in

full view of the slot in the door. The smooth shard of

windowpane that he had removed from the cracked win-

dow was on the window ledge IEhind him, carefully

wrapped in his handkerchief. The hardwood slat was

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between the mattress and the springs, easily avail-

able.

They heard the thud of the guard's boots and the

click of Eva's heels on the stairs.

Carter glanced at Verna. "Can you do it?"

"I can do it," she replied,

The stopped at the door. Carter couldn't see

the guard's eye at the slit, but he knew it was there.

The door ovxned. The guard stepped in, his rifle

ready, Eva moved right in behind him. a revolver held

loosely in her right hand. The guard covered Carter with

the rifle. Eva turned to Vema.

"Well, what is it you think you have to tell me that is

so important?"

"It isn't her," Carter said quietly, "it's me."

She whirled. "You?"

'That's right."

"Well, speak!"

Carter shook his head. "In private."

Eva glanced at the guard and hooded her eyes in

thought. The Kilimaster was gambling that she would

accept the idea that he thought he might get a better deal

from her than he would from Bolivar.

He reinforced it. had a last word from Bolivar.

Evidently he doesn't care about knowing the whole

story any longer. I thought you might."

He could see the wheels turning in her blond head.

She would run to Bolivar with anything he told her, but

perhaps she could convince Carter that she would inter-

cede for his life.

She made up her mind and tumed to the guard.

"Outside. I'll call you if I need you."

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Reluctantly, the guard backed fmm the rmm.

door closed but thc lock didn't click.

Eva turned to face Carter. "Well?"

"In private," he said.

She glanced at Verna. The woman was doing a good

job. She was on the bed, slumped back against the wall,

her eyes vacant and staring. The big woman decided to

take her chances and advanced on Carter, stopping a

few feet from him.

"What is it?" she murmured.

"Bolivar was only half right," Carter said in a voice

barely above a

"Half right?" Eva replied, matching his volume.

"He accused me of coming here to kill him. It's true,

that's what I was hired to do."

"So, and who hired you to do this?"

"I want your word that you'll get me out of here. I

don't care about her, you can do what you want with

her."

Carter had kept lowering his voice. To hear better,

Eva had inched forward as he talked. The revolver was

still in his direction, but in her curiosity it was

still being held with a loose hand.

"Names ... tell me the names," she hissed.

"No narnes. I don't know them. A contact and the

organization."

Ihe woman smiled. "It is Odessa."

"Then who?"

Vema had the slat free from between the mattress and

box springs, It was held in two steady hands over her

shoulder as she advanced. Caner kept his eyes steady on

Eva's.

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"Take me into the jungle, a head start of two miles.

Just you and your gun. Then I'll tell you."

Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know I just won't

kill you in the jungle after you tell me?"

Carter smiled. "l don't. But it's a better chance than

I've got here, don't you agree?"

"Yes, that's true. I-—

The blow coming partially across the back of the

skull and the shoulder wasn't as clean as Carter would

have liked, but it did the job. Eva gmnted in pain and

shock and fell forward.

Carter chopped her wrist with his left hand, sending

the revolver slithenng across the room. He grabbed the

handkerchief-wrapped glass with his right.

lhe woman had a lot of strength and fortitude. She

was about to scream, when Carter grabbed the long

braid of blond hair that hung down her back. In one

smooth motion he jerked the braid tight around her

throat so she couldn't scream. He looped it cruelly into

the softness of her flesh and drove her to the floor by

pressing his knee into her trlly

Wide with shock, her eyes stared up into his as he

flashed the shard of glass in front of her face.

"No sound," he hissed. "Blink if you understand."

She remained motionless, either from fear or de-

fiance. He moved the razorlike sliver back and forth in

front of her eyes and leaned forward to whisper.

"One sound and I'll gouge out your eyes. One kick

or squeal and I'll leave two raw holes in your face.

White and contorted, her face twitched and finally

her eyes blinked several times. He eased off the twisted

braid of hair just enough to give her air.

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"I'm going to lift you up, Eva, and walk you to the

door."

Her breath made a hissing sound and terror was in

her eyes. Carter took his knee from her body and tugged

on the braid, lifting. She swayed on her feet. He led her

to the door, changed grips on the hair so that he stood to

one side and partly behind her. He showed her the sharp

spear of glass again.

"Verna, get the gun. Now unload it. Good, now hand

it to her."

"I'd like to pistol-whip her with it," Verna spat.

"I'm sure you would, but this is more important."

"You'll never get as far as the jungle," Eva cracked.

S'There are no roads, there---

'*Shut up," Carter growled. '*Verna, give her the

gun."

Vema placed the revolver in the larger woman's

hands and stepped to the center of the room.

"Okay, what's the guard's name outside the door?"

"Donner," Eva replied.

"It'd be. Call out, tell him to come in here. If

his name isn't Donner and he gets edgy, I'll slit your

He maneuvered the big woman so that, through the

slit, the guard could see Eva, still holding the gun, and

most of Vema's body.

"All right... now!" Carter spat.

"Donner... Donner, come in, I am finished."

Footsteps. A pause while the man, more from force

of habit than anything else, peered through the slit,

nen the door opened and he walked into the room,

Behind Eva's back, Carter had already dropvrd the

shard of glass and picked up the hardwood slat.

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In one movement, he jerked Eva to her knees and

swung the slat with all his strength.

The blow drove the man down and forward. His gun

slid across the floor. Still hanging on to Eva's braid,

Carter heeled the man in the throat. The guard gasped

on the floor, his legs twitching. Carter dragged Eva to

the gun, picked it up, and wheeled to drive its butt sav-

agely into the bridge of the guard's nose. Grunting

softly, he struck twice more. The sounds were wet and

crunching.

He hauled the big woman across the man's body to

close the door, lightening his grip to let her gasp a

breath as he made sure the guard was dead. He was

about to turn, when he heard a sickening crunch. He

looked around.

Verna had retrieved the empty revolver when Eva

had dropped it. She had reversed it and split the big

blonde's skull with the butt. She was about to land a

second blow, when Carter spoke.

"No need for that."

'Oh, yes, there is."

Carter took the gun from her hand. "No, In about

five minutes this building is going sky-high. She'll go

with it."

He got the shells from the bed and reloaded the re-

volver, then stuck it in his belt. He flipped off the safety

and handed Verna the rifle.

"Can you use this?"

"l can point it and pull the trigger."

"Good. Just don't point it at me. and don't pull the

trigger until I tell you to." Carter grabbed the blanket

off the bed. "Let's go!"

They moved quietly down the narrow passageway

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and then down•the stairs. There was a guard lounging

against one jamb of the open stable dcx)rs. His rifle was

slung carelessly over one shoulder.

Carter was on top of him before the man knew he

wa.s there. Carter flipped the blanket over his head and

then curled it tightly.

While the guard was trying to tear off the blanket,

Carter hit him three times with everything he had. His

fist sank each time wrist-deep into his gut, and the

guard folded like a jackknife. Carter stc»d over him

while he crouched on his knees with his hands clamped

to his tElly. He sucked breath into his tortured lungs and

sobbed with pain.

Carter had all the time in the world to rneasure care-

fully and swing.

His knuckles hit him with such fury he hurtled back-

ward horizontally, his nostrils dissolving into red as his

shoulders thumlkd the ground.

He lay blowing red bubbles and Carter across

to him, dragged him to his feet, him until he

pawed the air in a weak show of defense, and then bat-

tered him to the ground again.

Carter gave no quarter. His knuckles were bone ham-

mers. Every time the man fell, Carter dragged him to

his feet and beat him into insensibility while he stood.

The Killmaster battered his chest, ribs and abdomen,

and pounded his face until his piggy eyes could no

longer see and his mouth and nostrils were a red maw of

bleeding flesh.

Then Carter stepped back and let him fall.

"My God," Verna gasped at his elbow.

"It was the quiet way," Carter said, lifting the man's

legs and tugging him deeper into the stables.

RUBY RED DEATH

"What now?"

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"What now?"

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"You see the barn over there with the flat roof across

the top?" he asked. checking the second guard's rifle

and slinging it.

see it."

"We're going over there. You're going up on that flat

part of the rcx)f. Then you're going to lie down and

point your rifle at the house."

"Damn."

'*What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid of heights."

"You'll just have to get over it. This way. There's

another guard in the courtyard between here and this

building."

"Wait a minute," she whispered, grabbing his arm.

"You said you attached explosives to all these build-

ings."

"Not that one," he replied. "That's where the horses

are. I'm an animal Joven C'mon, and stay in the

shadows!"

At the last second he grabbed the dead guard's wide-

brimmed hat and jammed it on his head.

He led the way for fifty feet, a hundred, a hundred

and fifty, and then he straining his ears and

ü•ying to pick up any alien sound.

When he heard nothing, he grabtEd Verna's hand and

pulled her into the stables.

S 'That's the ladder to the hayloft. When you get up

there you'll find another ladder that leads through the

hole in the there. See it?"

"I see it," she said grimly, and started up the ladder.

"And remember," Carter added, just for the

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house. We've got help coming out of the jungle."

He waited until he saw her figure move through thc

hole in the roof, and then he moved back outside.

He was skirting the trees on the edge of the other

outbuildings when the first explosion went off.


FIFTEEN

Carter was about to bolt for the courtyard between

the old, unused stables and the house, when the stables

went up. It wasn't a huge explosion, but it was quickly

followed by fire that lit up the whole area.

The guard who had twen in the courtyard careened

around the corner.

Caner fired twice at the middle of the big, bulky

body with the revolver. It kicked solidly against the heel

of his palm and the man took two more steps toward

him.

He was bent slightly at the waist and raising his gun

as he advanced. His breath was very loud, but he

seemed to be smiling; his lips were drawn back flat,

exposing his teeth, and his face was wrinkled like a

wadded-up piece of wastepaper.

Carter fired again and the man twisted sideways,

bending sharply now, and his gun exploded into the

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ground. He fell limply, disjointedly, like a big sack of

rags rolling onto its side. nere was no longer the illu-

Sion of a smile on his face; he looked surprised and

slightly stupid. nat was all.

One wing of the house went up, and then the rest of

the perimeter's buildings also exploded.

It was like daylight now. and Carter could hear firing

coming from the jungle. That would be Lorena and Otto

wading their way through the perimeter guards.

Suddenly a female scream pierced the chaos of sound

around him, and Carter looked up. The old stable mas-

ter was wrenching the rifle away from Verna. The

scream was her slipping from the edge of the roof.

Carter unslung the rifle and got off two fast rounds.

The old man grabbed his middle and disappeared

through the hole in the roof.

Carter ran around the building and spotted Verna at

once. She lay on her back, her an•ns and legs sprawled

like those of a broken doll. He knew she was dead even

before he saw the staring look of her eyes. She wasn't

pretty anymore, she wasn't anything. The exquisitely

sculptured head was like the relief on an old Roman

coin: distant, cold, remote.

He tumed and headed for the main house.

Halfway there, a guard ran from one of the rear

doors. He was holding his hands up, palms out. "Don't

go in, don't go in!" he shouted.

Carter shot him and leaped over the body. He ran

around the wide veranda until he reached the part of thq

house that was not in flames. He was about to kick open

one of the doors, when Otto von Krumm and one of

Buck Waters's locals rounded the corner in front of him.

RUBY RED DEATH

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171

Otto didn't mince words. "How many did you get so

far?"

"Four," Carter replied.

"We got three coming out the side, and one was

crunched jumping from a third-floor window," Otto

grunted.

"That should leave three, besides Bolivar and Gross-

man. What about the servants?"

'*They scattered. I don't know if they all made it. We

let them through."

"Where's Lnrena?" Caner barked.

Otto paused for only an instant. "She went in the

front, just shooting her way inside. I couldn't stop her."

didn't figure you could. Stay out here, make sure

no one gets through."

Without waiting for a reply, Carter kicked the door

open and burst through it into the smoky interior. He

found himself in the enormous kitchen.

Half by sight, half by feel, he found a hand towel

and soaked it under the tap. When it was wrapped se-

curely around his face, he hit the small dining room and

went on into a sitting room.

The deeper he went, the greater was the smoke. As

yet, he had seen no flarnes on the inside, but they would

be in the bedroom areas on the upper story.

He had to kick the door of the great room several

times before he could get it orxn. When he did, he saw

the body that had been sprawled against it.

The files and papers that had spread on the long

table were now scattered across the He saw no

sign of the two leather cases.

Halfway up the stairs he saw another guard sprawled.

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He was cut almost in half, with his rifle still slung over

his shoulder.

There wasn't a sound now except the crackling of

flames on the floors above Carter.

Suddenly there was a single shot. It was quickly fol-

lowed by a staccato burst from an automatic rifle.

Caner took the stairs two at a time. Halfway up, the

last guard apt*ared at the top of the stairs.

Carter raised the rifle, but before he could fire, the

man toppled forward. The Killmaster stepped aside and

the body rolled past him, trailing a path of blo«xi down

the stairs.

Caner to the landing and shouted: "Lorena

Lorena, where are you!"

A door (wied behind him and he dived for the floor.

He rolled up against the wood-paneled wall as the hall

filled with the staccato roar of a submachine gun. The

wcx)d a foot from his face chip1Ed away as though a

buzz saw were chewing it.

He rolled away to avoid the splinters and return the

fire. Two shots from the automatic rifle and it clicked

empty.

Carter cursed and pawed for the revolver in his belt.

It was gone, lost when he had hit the floor.

The had heard, t(X), and was now running

toward him. Carter rolled in the smoke, avoiding the

bullets.

The man lost Carter in the smoky darkness just long

enough for the Killmaster to reach up and grab him. He

got the gun arm with one hand, spun around, and

brought it over his shoulder. He got the other hand on

his wrist and yanked. The man had to either come up or

risk a broken elbow.

RUBY RED DEATH

He took the risk.

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He took the risk.

173

Carter heard the bone crack and the machine pistol

clattered down the stairs.

The man hit the floor and came right back up to his

feet.

The smoke cleared just enough then for Carter to see.

It was Umtxrto Grossman.

"Good!" he roared. "Before this place falls in on us,

I will have the joy of killing you!"

Grossman was fasts like lightning, and deadly, even

with one broken arrn and his lungs full of smoke.

He came in from Carter's nght, went from high to

low, and suddenly appeared on the Killmaster's left, his

own good side. A swift, blumng chop came at Carter's

neck from the man's healthy right arm.

Carter blocked it, but caught a kick in his left side

that sent him reeling. He bounced off the wall and

started to turn. Something chopped him across the neck.

Carter spun, reaching.

The room turned end over end. He landed hard on his

shoulders, breath gusting out in a rush. A shoe heel

drove viciously at his throat, and he was barely alert

enough to roll dizzily away from it. The second try

caught him on the side of the jaw: Red lights flashed on

and off, on and off.

Grunting, the Killmaster pawed at the floor and came

up, shaking his head, trying to push the red spots out of

his eyes. The knife edge of a calloused palm lanced into

his throat. He swayed on his knees, sucking through the

bright, hard agony that wouldn't let the air pass. The

face floating over him was out of focus, hazy, leering at

him, full of pure evil.

Carter wobbled up and stuck a fist at it, felt the hand

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snap around his wrist, felt himself yanked off-balance

and knew something painful was on its way But the

hand slipped off. "Ihe face moved back, jerked back.

Carter spat, pumped a gulp of head-clearing air into his

chest.

Grossman was on his knees, reaching up with his one

good arm to get a madwoman off his back.

I-Mena was riding him, her legs around his middle.

One hand clenched his hair, the claws of her other hand

dug into his eyes. Her fingers already dripped with

blood as she ripped frantically at his face.

Grossman screamed in pain and tried to unseat her.

Chin pulled in, gasping, Carter moved forward as the

mist in front of his own eyes cleared. '*Lorena!" he

cried. s 'Let him go, I've got him!"

He got his fingers twisted into the man's jacket.

Screaming in pain, Grossman struck out with his good

hand and arm, but it was useless with his blinded eyes.

Lorena dropped away.

Carter pulled him off the floor, held him in midair,

and wrapped his other hand around the man's ankle.

Then he turned slowly and hammered Grossman's head

against the walL Plaster cracked. Dust geysered. Carter

swung him back for another stroke, and another, shak-

ing and ruining the wall, Finally Grossman

screaming. Carter dropped him into the dusty pile of

plaster.

'Ihe Killmaster didn't need to check. Umberto

Grossman was dead, He found the revolver and waddled

his way through the smoke.

'*Lorena ... he shouted, stumbling down the hall.

' 'Lorena!"

He had planted the explosive on the rcx»f. It was

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gone, or at least most of it, and the flames were eating

their way downward. If there had been a high wind, the

house would have already been devoured. As it was, on

such a calm night and with the lack of wind, it was

moving slowly.

Slowly, Carter thought as he slammed door after door

open, but surely.

"Lorena!"

Still no answer.

Suddenly he burst through the last door in the wing

and found them.

It was a sight out of hell.

Bolivar was on a satin-covered settee. He sat,

slightly hunched over, his hands clas1Ed over his mid-

die. Blood in waves through his fingers. His eyes

were bright, alert. He even looked up as Carter entered

the room.

A few feet in front of him, Lorena was on her knees,

much in the same m»sition as Bolivar, her hands clasped

over her middle.

Carter was frozen in time and space.

They were talking, actually seemed to be chatting.

Between them on the floors scattered like so many

pieces of pretty glass, was a fortune in gemstones,

Slowly. through shock and the smoke filling his

mind and the room, Carter heard the conversation.

"Your brother," Bolivar was saying, "is an evil man.

You were a child, a baby. To raise you with revenge all

these years was a waste."

"No," Lorena replied calmly, "every minute was

worth it... for this."

Carter could believe neither his eyes nor his ears.

' 'And what have you gained?" Bolivar gasped, his

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life pumping out from between his fingers. "Your family

baubles back?"

"No ... no, no, no," Lnrena whispered. "I've gained

more, much more. I've been able to shoot you in the

belly and watch you die, very slowly."

Bolivar his head, coughed blood, and looked

up at Carter. "Who are you ... Odessa?"

'*Does it matter?" Carter replied, amazed at himself

with the flames creeping around them all that he could

be so calm.

"He's just a man," Lorena said, "a hired hand, a

conduit to get me to you."

For the first time since Carter had nwt him, Bolivar

laughed out loud, Blood poured from his mouth and

there was a hacking sound, but still he laughed.

And then suddenly he stopped.

He removed one hand from his punctured belly and

waved it at the floor.

"lhen take your payment, man. Gather them up!" He

laughed some more.

Carter ignored him. He turned to Lorena and tried to

lift her to her feet. "We've got to get out of here."

"No!" she cried.

"Yes!" Carter screamed at her, fighting the fury of

her resistance.

"No! I want to watch him die!"

"Don't be a fool," Carter hissed. "He's a dead man.

You've got the revenge you came for."

"No. Not yet."

"Yes!" Carter cried, yanking her to her feet. "He's an

old man. He's dying and he knows it and he doesn't

Another laugh from the near-dead man on the settee.

RUBY RED DEATH

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177

"We're all dead, or waiting to die. What's the differ-

ence? Leave her. But take the jewels. "Ihey'll only be

found by ignorant Indians."

Carter's mind was glazing over, like his eyes. He

found it impossible to breathe.

Lorena had wrenched herself from his grasp. She

was on her hands and knees on the floor. He stumbled

toward her, but she managed to elude his grasp.

"There!" she cried, suddenly coming back to her feet

with her hands cupped beneath his chin. "Look!"

Carter looked down. In her cupikd hands were sev-

eral diamonds, glittering even in the thickening smoke,

And in their center was the enorrnous syrntx»l of a

lost world, a dead monarchy.

The Heartstone.

"We have it!" she said.

"Yeah," Carter replied, seeing the madness in her

eyes that he had always known was there but had never

admitted. "Now, we go."

She shoved the stones into Carter's p«xket and turned

back to face Bolivar. "He's still dying."

Carter pulled the revolver from his belt, aimed, and

put a slug right between Bolivar's eyes.

"Not now he isn't."

He slung Lorena over his shoulder and ran out into

the hall and down the stairs.


SIXTEEN

Carter stood at the window. Outside, he watched the

Amsterdam street come alive with whores, pickpockets,

hippies, and good, honest foreign businessmen out to

get laid.

"He was a good man."

Carter turned, The beautiful Oriental girl sat at the

desk, her brother standing beside her, his hand on her

shoulder.

"I wouldn't think about it if I were you," Carter said.

"Mortimer always had a will, even when he didn't have

anything to leave anyone."

"It was nice service, yes?" the girl said.

"Yes, a very nice service," Carter replied, forcing his

face to remain stone,

Otto had got them out by boat, down the long river.

nen there had been a charter to the Canary Islands and

a commercial jet to Frankfurt.

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179

At the castle they had found Mortimer Potts with his

neck broken, crucified to some timbers in the basement.

Fabian Huzel didn't just kill. He took gleeful delight

in the killing.

Otto knew a doctor. The cause of death was listed as

a heart attack. Mortimer had been cremated and his

ashes brought back to the Yum-Yum Club.

"We were so poor," the girl said, "and now we are so

rich."

"Don't worry about it," Carter said. "If Mortimer

hadn't wanted you to have everything, he wouldn't have

given you everything in his will. Live, enjoy ... that's

what Mortimer did."

Carter headed for the door.

"Mr. Carer," the girl said, "if there is ever any-

thing

Carter smiled. 'There might be and if you did it,

you'd just be carrying on Mortimer's tradition."

He left the Yum-Yum Club. A block away he

crawled into the front seat of a black Mercedes. Otto

was behind the wheel.

'*How did you do?" Carter asked.

"Very well, actually," came the stoic reply. "A little

over a million and a half, American. for the diamonds.

The two emeralds brought forty thousand per."

"That should take care of you ... and her," Carter

said.

Otto smiled. "Leave it to me, Nick. I'll have her

back on her feet in a year."

It was the way he said it that made Carter smile.

"Otto, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were in love."

' 'Well," Otto shrugged, "it is time for me to act

my age. Shall we get on with it?"

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"Yes," Carter nodded, "let's. You're sure everything

the baroness has is traceable?"

"Oh, God, yes."

It was early morning, the dead hour, the hour of the

ultimate thief.

The Mercedes barely paused as the darkly clad figure

rolled from the door. In seconds he was over the fence.

The whole operation took less than seven minutes.

Break in, go up to the attic—past the master bedroom.

the nursery, the empty guest room, the maid's room

where the au pair girl dreamed of warmth and sunshine

and lemon trees—up to the deserted attic, a little of

toys, books, discarded furniture, the squeak of a rusty

window hinge, and Carter was on the rcx»f, moving vel-

vet-pawed across the leaded guttering to the attic win-

dow in the house.

He used a diamond with four neat strokes, waited for

the glass to fall—a tiny brittle whisper of noise—then

put his hand into the hole he had made, opened the

window, and lowered himself into the house.

In the comfortable darkness he moved through the

house. The stairs were carpeted and the noise he made

was less than a sigh; he went down to the drawing

room.

He already knew the location of the safe. Finding it

in the darkness took two minutes, 01rning it another

five.

ne Baroness Erica von Steinholtz wouldn't realize

for a full twenty-four hours that two million dollars'

worth of her family's fabulous fortune in jewels was

gone.

RUBY RED DEATH

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181

Nadia Grinzel had a chubby face. It was the sort of

face one sees on Scandinavian dolls in shop windows at

Christmastime: cream and pink porcelain with sculp-

tured lips and eyebrows, a pointed little nose, ears,

barely visible at the IotES, that peeked out beneath yel-

low, spun-candy hair that fitted on top of her head like

an elegant bathing cap. Her eyes were magnified by a

large pair of heavy-rimmed, tortoiseshell glasses that

usually hung from a gold chain looped around the back

of her neck.

Nadia Grinzel's I.Q. matched her vision: 40 40.

When the phone rang that night, she was dressing for

an evening out. ne reason for the evening out was a

young banker, rich, handsome, and almost as dumb as

Nadia.

She fully him to ask for her hand.

That would be nice.

She had worked for Fabian Huzel for two years. It

was better than a whore in the Damrak—which

she had briefly tren—but not as good as trapping a

banker. The phone rang.

"Yes?"

"Fräulein Grinzel?"

"Yes."

"This is Horst, I have the merchandise."

"Oh, God, not tonight."

' 'Yes, tonight."

"But I'm.. e"

"Fräulein Grinzel, this is business. I have just ob-

tained the merchandise. Needless to say, I can't wait

forever to get a price."

"Damn," she muttered under her breath, and then

sighed. "All right. How long before you can get here?"

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NICK CARTER

"I am on the comer, two minutes."

"Fine."

She killed the connection and dialed. When the old

crone who always answered came on, Nadia was brief

and to the point,

"I have a very large one. I must have a figure by

noon tomorrow. "

"Jay very well. I will tell him."

Though it was not yet nine in the moming, a raw and

rainy day looked in the windows of the old plice cen-

tral building overlooking the river.

A green-shaded lamp was burning above the desk of

Chief Otis Konig Sev of the Metropolitan

Amsterdam Police. He had in his office since

seven that morning, when the package had amved. It

contained papers that solved practically every major

jewel robbery in country for the past ten years.

Konig Sev examined the last of it, leaned back at

ease, and smoked a cigarette with an air of doing so

cynically. He was a long, stringy man whose thick and

wrinkled eyelids gave him a sardonic look that was

thoroughly deserved. Though he was not bald, his white

hair had txgun to recede from the skull as though in

sympathy with the close cropping of his gray mustache.

His eyes were bright, and right now they were amused.

ne phone call had awakened him just before dawn

that morning.

"Insl*ctor Konig Sev?"

"Yes, yes, who is this?"

"Never mind. I understand you are very close to re-

tirement, Herr Inspector."

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183

"I don't enjoy txing awakened from a sound sleep to

be told what I already know."

A low chuckle from the other end of the line. "Early

this morning, a package will delivered to your office

by courier. The package will contain records of the buy-

ing and selling of vast amounts of stolen gems."

"Damn you say." Konig Sev was upright in his tRd

now, alert.

"lhe records alone are only circumstantial. They

alone probably won't convict the man. I'll give you

something else that will."

Konig Sev was a cynical and rational man. "This is

beginning to sound like a joke."

"No joke, Inspector, I assure you. Just before dawn

yesterday moming, the house of Baron and Baroness

von Steinholtz was burgled. All of the family jewels

were stolen."

"My God, man, if such a robbery had occurred, it

would have reported!"

"Not really. The baron has been out of the city on

business. The baroness has tEen confined to her bed

with a cold."

Konig Sev was incredulous. "You mean ... ?"

"Exactly, Inspector Baroness von Steinholtz doesn't

even know she's robbed. I suggest you check it. I

will call you later this morning in your office."

The caller had hung up and Konig Sev had rushed

into his clothes. A call to his office had brought a car

with two patrol officers to his house in minutes.

He couldn't suppress a laugh when he remembered

the look on the face of Baroness von Steinholtz, and her

comment, "Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant police work!"

The phone on his desk hl'77ed. "Yes?"

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It was the central operator. "I think this is the call

you've tren waiting for, Inspector."

"Put him through." There was a series of clicks and

he sr»ke again. "This is Konig Sev."

bust you've had an enlightening morning,

"Dammit, man, this is serious business. What do you

know atX)ut the von Steinholtz robbery?"

"A great deal, but, more importantly, I know where

the jewels will be between nine o'cl(Xk and noon

today."

"I'm listening."

"Numtv Twelve Herengracht. The flat is Four-A. It

is owned by a young lady named Nadia Grinzel. But she

is only a drop. The man you want is Fabian Huzel."

"Huzæl," Konig Sev whispered.

"Yes, You can retire with honors."

The phone went dead, but Konig Sev kept holding it

to his ear. staring off into space.

"Fabian Huzel," he muttered, '*at last."

Nadia Grinzel checked through the peephole and un-

locked the door. Fabian Huzel entered the flat shaking

the water from his head and shoulders like a shaggy

dog.

"Terrible day," hg mumbled.

It was a comparatively small flat, one main room

with a bedroom alcove, an open kitchen area, and a

door to a bathroom. It was in a comer of the building,

so there were windows on two sides.

Nadia had obviously been preparing breakfast. There

was a table near the window, half set, and there were

cooking sounds coming from the kitchen.

RUBY RED DEATH

"Do you want coffee?"

"No, I don't have time. Where are they?"

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"Do you want coffee?"

"No, I don't have time. Where are they?"

185

"I'll get them," Nadia said. "I have to turn my stove

down."

She fiddled with the stove and then stepped up on a

low, three-step ladder. She moved aside a square section

of the false ceiling and raised to her toes as she felt

along the indentation of the neighboring section.

Behind her, Huzel shook his head, If the police ever

searched the place, he thought. that would.be the first

place they would look.

Nadia stepped from the ladder and brought two

heavy chamois bags to the table where Huzel sat.

"It's funny," he said as he untied the drawstring on

the first bag. "I thought Horst Eberson was in prison in

France.

The girl shrugged and siPFEd her coffee. *'I've never

had him t*fore, but his name was on the list you gave

me.

Huzel's eyes grew wide and saliva gathered at the

corners of his mouth as he emptied the contents of the

first bag.

He was examining the third piece through the loop in

his eye socket when it struck him.

"ldiot!" he cried. "That damn idiot!"

"What's the matter?" Nadia almost spilled her coffee.

"A first-year clerk in any watch shop would recog-

nize—

It was at that moment the door shattered from its

hinges and the flat filled with uniforms.

The Differt, a traditional Amsterdam broodjeswinkel,

or café, was located at 15 Herengracht. Through its

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NICK CARTER

spotlessly clean front windows there was an excellent

view of number 12.

Otto von Krumm pushed his plate away with a sigh

and patted his belly. "A fine meal."

Carter sipped his second cup of coffee and ncxlded.

"Every new day should be started with a good meal."

Suddenly a fierce light shone in Otto von Krumm's

eyes and his lips parted in a leering grin.

"My, oh my."

"Something?"

"The time for joy has come, my friend. Just take a

quick glance over your left shoulder."

Casually Carter turned his head.

Ihe woman was taken down the steps of numtrr 12

first. Her face was white with fear, and even at such a

distance the Killmaster could see her lips tremble. A

unifonned police officer was on each side of her, and

her wrists were manacled together in front of her body.

Seconds later Fabian Huzel aprEared, also with an

officer on each side of him. The second party moved a

little more slowly than the first. This was because

Huzel's ankles, as well as his wrists, were cuffed.

His clothes were torn and in disarray. Ihunder as

well as a large, purplish bruise was on his glowering

face.

"Looks like our boy gave them a bit of a tussle,"

Otto smirked.

"It would appear so," Carter agreed. "Hope they got

some gocx] licks in before he gave up."

"l do think they did," Otto replied. "From the looks

of his face I'd say he'll have a great deal of trouble

chewing his food for quite some time."

"I'd say that."

RUBY RED DEATH

"Pity."

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"Pity."

187

They watched until the pair were placed in separate

cars and were driven away. In only a few minutes the

curious disrrrsed and the quiet neighborhood returned

to normal.

The two then took their time finishing their coffee.

Carter paid, leaving a large tip, and they walked the two

blocks to the waiting Mercedes.

11)e Killmaster checked his watch as he slid into the

passenger side seat.

"I should just make the one-ten flight to Vienna

without too boring a wait."

Otto pulled from the curb into the light noonday traf•

fic. He was whistling softly. "How long do you think

he'll get?"

Carter frowned in concentration. "I'd say thirty

years, give or take."

Otto laughed. "With the thieves he'll take with him

I'll give you ten to one he won't last five years."

Carter leaned back in the seat with a broad smile on

his face. "l don't take sucker you know that,

Otto."


SEVENTEEN

Ihe plane landed at Vienna's airport just past four in

thc afternoon. Carter cabbed to the hotel and checked in

with his own name and passport.

In his he built a drink and moved to the win-

dow to stare out at the city.

Ihe elation of nailing Fabian Huzel had passed

by now. He didn't look forward to the coming even-

ing, the meeting he had agreed to make, and the rehash-

ing of the whole mess that would expected of

him.

He would rather forget it, catch a plane down to

Nice, and lay on the beach for a week.

A week, hell, he a month.

But there was the list.

lhe goddamned list.

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189

Hc had already code telexed his report back to Wash-

ington. He knew Hawk and the whole section would be

elated.

Elated?

They were probably frothing at the mouth in antici-

pation. A lot of bodies would fall when he sent in the

list. He wondered how many would be buried where

they fell.

He napped for a couple of hours and then took a long

shower. By the time he was dressed and on the street it

was dark anoa wind had come up.

Since it was only a few blocks and he was a bit

early, he walked. The sky was clear It would be cold

and crisp tomorrow, but the sun would probably come

out.

Café Josef was a small, quiet place with imitation

black leather walls, comfortable furniture, and discreet

lighting. It was about half full when Carter entered.

"One, sir?"

expecting a friend."

"Of course. This way."

Caner followed him to a front table that looked out

on the boulevard. He ordered a scotch, neat, and sipped

it as he waited.

He did not have to wait long. Hardly five minutes

had passed when he saw her striding across the street

with her determined walk, Gone were the corduroy

slacks and the leather jacket. She wore a stylish raincoat

that flamxul open now and then to reveal a figure-fitting

black skirt and a frilly white blouse.

If one didn't know better, he thought, one would

sumxyse that she was an actual flesh-and-blood woman.

It was hard for Carter.

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NICK CARTER

He remembered too well the blonde's face when the

bullet had struck her in the back and the ease with which

Ilse Beddick had guided the burial in the frozen earth.

Inside, she stood for a moment looking over the

room. SVhen she spotted Carter she headed directly for

the table.

As she approached, Carter stood up. Then he re-

himself and sat down as the waiter ap-

proached to seat her. She ordered wine and shrugged out

of her coat.

Silence.

It was as if neither of them knew how to start.

"Congratulations," Carter said at last, "on getting out."

"Vadim set it up beforehand," she replied. "It was

done with very little effort. Have you heard?"

Carter nodded. "Washington informed me."

"He died very quietly, in his sleep."

"Wonderful," Carter said.

She either ignored or had not caught the sarcasm in

his voice. "I wish I could have given him the details

but..

She shrugged, truly sad.

The waiter set a glass of wine in front of her and left.

"But don't worry. I have what you want right in

here."

She patted a slim clutch bag and then took a cloi-

sonné case from it and extracted a cigarette. As Carter

flicked his lighter he didn't try to hide the wince on his

face he felt from her words.

"Is something troubling you?"

"A little. It was very messy."

She leaned forward. "l want to hear about it, every

word, every detail."

RUBY RED DEATH

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Carter winced again. He signaled the waiter for an-

other drink. When it came he took a deep breath and

began in a voice barely above a

He talked for nearly an hour with Ilse Beddick's face

not once changing expression. When he finished she

seemed in deep thought for several minutes,

"And Lorena?"

"She is in a clinic near Wilhelmshaven in Germany.

Here is the address." He passed a note across the table

which she folded and placed in her purse without even

glancing at it,

"She is being taken care of?"

'Quite. A man named Otto von Krumm thinks that

he may well be in love with her. He'll take care of her.

Perhaps Otto is even more wealthy than she is even after

her... windfall."

Ilse thought this over and nodded again. "Good. You

said she went a little mad. How mad?"

Killing mad, crazy mad, revenge mad, he thought.

"In my opinion?" he asked.

"I have no one else to ask."

' 'In my opinion," Carter said, rubbing his temples

hard, "l think she is quite insane and will stay that way. "

He didn't add that she had her brother's lust for revenge

to thank for it.

"You carried out every bit of our half of the contract.

Here is your half."

Carter opened the envelope and pulled out three

neatly typed pages. It was complete: names, addresses,

telephone nurntrrs, even current occupations. He

slipped it into his jacket pocket.

"Satisfactory?" she asked.

"Very," Carter replied.

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She slipped her arms into the sleeves of her coat.

"Where will you go?"

The question seemed to surprise her. She gave it

some thought before answering.

"Somewhere far... where no one will ever find me. "

"And forget about all this."

"No. Never. I'll remember it well."

"Yeah, I thought you would," Carter replied. "So

will I. By the way, here."

He dropped the bloodred Heartstone into her hand.

She looked down at it vacantly and then back up at

Carter.

SKI think it's better that you have it than Lorena. That

is, if she ever does get her sanity back."

Ilse Beddick smiled for the first time since she had

entered the restaurant.

"My, my, a sentirnental killer."

She dropped the gem carelessly into her bag and

walked from the restaurant.

Caner stared through the window after her until she

was lost from sight.

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

"Yeah. Another scotch. Make it a triple and keep

them coming until I tell you to stop."