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"What?" Peter almost shouted, still trying to keep his voice down, "are you crazy? They'll kill you...."
But it was too late. Smith had climbed out and was moving swiftly towards the gates. He strode purposefully into the little courtyard. In front of him, dimly visible in the gloom, was a building of the crudest corrugated-iron construction, which had probably been designed for storage. A few equally crude alterations had produced a heavy black front door with heavily-curtained windows either side. Above the door was a hand-painted inscription in the local language, its script completely meaningless to Smith. By the door, Chelim was sitting in his rickshaw, waiting once again, the same dreamy expression on his upturned face.
"Get that thing out on to the road, Chelim," he whispered urgently, "and wait for us there. Don't start the engine or make any noise."
Chelim nodded and started quietly pushing his vehicle towards the gate.
Smith pushed on the door and it opened freely. Immediately a voice rang out in an Oriental language. "You may as well calm down," said Smith sharply, "the game's up. Where have you got the girl?"
From the dim recesses of the large interior, sections of which Smith now saw to be curtained-off, a tall well-dressed and very menacing European man of about forty stepped forward, with an equally well-dressed but rather more diminutive Asian man at each of his elbows. The three calmly regarded the intruder.
"Forgive me," the big man said in a Southern States American accent, "I don't believe we've met...?"
Smith noticed a bulge in all three of their breast-pockets. He did not suppose that the bulges were caused by their wallets.
"There are about twenty policemen out there," Smith said calmly, "all armed. But Suavarose's father doesn't want a scene. So he's asked me to reason with you. The deal is very simple. You let the girl go. You forget whatever it is you think she owes you. She walks away from here. And that is the end of the affair. Otherwise it gets unpleasant. He would appreciate if you could let him have your answer right away. What is it to be?" Smith was proud of how calm he sounded. In reality his heart was pounding like a tom-tom drum and the sweat was almost dripping from his palms.
The tall man's lips curled into a faint smile. "I see. That seems mighty generous of him."
"I think so. None of us wants a scene, do we?"
"Dasing. Get the young lady, would you, please?"
One of the men left the tall man's side and returned a few moments later with a girl who was smaller than Suavarose, a year or two younger, and even more pale and distressed. Smith understood instantly. The adrenaline that was coursing through his veins had speeded-up the rate of his thinking immeasurably.
"Thank you," he said calmly. "And her sister?"
Suavarose emerged from the shadows and as she saw him her face lit up in surprise. "You..." she breathed.
"Yes. We met at the airport. I'm afraid the authorities there weren't entirely frank with you."
"That was... the man I told you about," she whispered.
"Well well," said the big man pleasantly, "It looks like you have been a bit careless, doesn't it?"
"We all make mistakes," said Smith pleasantly. "And now, I must wish you good night."
He turned calmly around and walked towards the door, not bothering to check that the two girls were following. He didn't turn around again until he was back at the rickshaws. He could tell from their sharp exhalation of breath that the two girls were indeed behind him.
"No story, I'm afraid, Peter," he said apologetically, "but we do get to go home with our skins intact."
"What in God's name did you say to them...?"
"Not the best time, Peter," he countered firmly, "let's just hit the road. Like, right now. Okay?"
The two girls bundled themselves in to Chelim's rickshaw without uttering a word and soon the two vehicles were speeding away, back the way they had come, to travel in convoy to Peter's apartment.
O
"So that was really all there was to it," Smith summarized, cupping his hands around his coffee-mug, "your sister got into a bit of bad company and you believed that the only way to get her back was to do that job for Miller."
"It was the only way. He'd made her into an addict, like all his other girls. The heroin was their wages. He couldn't get it here any more - at least not at prices that he was willing to pay - so he had to look elsewhere. If I didn't do it for him he was going to get the Press involved. Destroy our family for ever. I couldn't let that happen."
"And your father, he didn't know anything about it, did he?"
"Absolutely nothing. She did some terrible things for Miller. Things... that I can't even bring myself to say. Maybe now that she's free of him, we could let Papa know that she has a drug problem. Spare him all the other details. I think we're going to have to, she still needs a lot of help. He could arrange it for her, he would have the right contacts to do it quietly."
Smith nodded. "In that case, maybe you could do me one little service. I think you'll agree that you owe me that much?"
She smiled. "Anything, Leonard."
"Try to get your father to sort out something about that drugs charge that I might be facing. Maybe you could hint that it was your sister, travelling with your passport. I'm sure your father is a powerful enough man to get a little thing like that dropped."
"Careful," she laughed, "You're beginning to sound a bit like Miller. Of course we'll sort something out. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"He thought for a moment. "Would you like to show me around this beautiful country of yours? I meant to ask you before, but I didn't have the guts."
She took his hand and smiled very sweetly. "First thing in the morning," she promised. AN END
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