A Lotus For Miss Quon Read Online Free Page B
Author: James Hadley Chase
the hole.
He searched for and found the nail, then he climbed the ladder and gently tapped the nail into the wall, just above the hole. He reached down and picked up the picture and hung it in place, concealing the hole.
He stepped back and looked at the picture. There was just a chance the police wouldn't think to look behind it: not much of a chance, but still, a chance.
He carried the ladder into the kitchen and put the hammer in the tool drawer. He felt the need for a drink and he went back into the sitting-room and poured himself another stiff shot of whisky. As he lifted the glass to his lips, the telephone bell began to ring: a violent, persistent sound that shattered the silence in the room and made Jaffe start so violently the glass of whisky jumped out of his hand and smashed to pieces on the floor, spraying whisky and water over his bare feet.
He stood staring at the telephone, his heart contracting with shock.
Who could it be? Someone wanting to come round? Someone inviting him for a drink?
He was too frightened to answer the telephone. He might get caught up in one of those ghastly chit-chats that could go on and on and on.
He remained motionless, staring at the telephone. The bell continued to ring: the sound tore at his nerves. He realized that Dong Ham and the girl must also be listening to the bell. They were probably standing as motionless as himself, looking at each other, wondering why he wasn't answering the telephone.
The bell abruptly ceased to ring. The sudden silence in the room pressed down on him. Carefully, he stepped away from the broken pieces of glass. He must get out of the house, he told himself. He couldn't stay here a minute longer. Later, he would come back, but right now, until his nerves settled, he must get out.
He went quickly up the stairs, took off his shorts and had a shower. He put on a pair of trousers and a shirt that were lying on a chair, thus avoiding opening the closet. He checked his money and was dismayed to find he had only 500 piastres in his wallet. He rummaged among his handkerchiefs in a drawer in his closet and found another too piastres note.
This wasn't so good, he thought. He needed money. If he was going to get out of the country, he would have to have money. His mouth tightened when he remembered it was Sunday and the banks were closed. He would have to cash a cheque at one of the hotels. He was pretty well known now in Saigon. It surely wouldn't be difficult to get some hotel to cash his cheque.
As he was about to leave the room, he suddenly remembered he had left the diamonds in the hip pocket of his shorts and this forgetfulness frightened him.
I must pull myself together he told himself as he took the envelope from the pocket of the shorts. I'm risking my neck for these stones and here I am, walking out without them.
He opened the envelope and examined the stones under the ceiling lamp. The sight of them sent a surge of excitement through him. He returned to the sitting-room and searched in his desk drawer for something more solid to hold the diamonds. He decided on an empty typewriter ribbon box. He put the diamonds into the box, again pausing to admire them, then put the box in his trouser pocket. He found his cheque book which he put in his wallet, then he walked into the kitchen and looked across the courtyard through the slit in the shutter.
Dong Ham was squatting outside the cookhouse door, staring blankly towards him. There was no sign of the girl. Wondering where she had got to, Jaffe returned to the sitting-room and looked through the shutters into the street beyond. He stiffened when he saw the girl squatting on the edge of the kerb opposite, looking towards the house.
These two obviously suspected something, he thought, but with the inevitable, dim-witted Asian patience they were waiting to see what happened. But at the same time, they were taking no chances. While the old man watched the back door, the girl was watching
He searched for and found the nail, then he climbed the ladder and gently tapped the nail into the wall, just above the hole. He reached down and picked up the picture and hung it in place, concealing the hole.
He stepped back and looked at the picture. There was just a chance the police wouldn't think to look behind it: not much of a chance, but still, a chance.
He carried the ladder into the kitchen and put the hammer in the tool drawer. He felt the need for a drink and he went back into the sitting-room and poured himself another stiff shot of whisky. As he lifted the glass to his lips, the telephone bell began to ring: a violent, persistent sound that shattered the silence in the room and made Jaffe start so violently the glass of whisky jumped out of his hand and smashed to pieces on the floor, spraying whisky and water over his bare feet.
He stood staring at the telephone, his heart contracting with shock.
Who could it be? Someone wanting to come round? Someone inviting him for a drink?
He was too frightened to answer the telephone. He might get caught up in one of those ghastly chit-chats that could go on and on and on.
He remained motionless, staring at the telephone. The bell continued to ring: the sound tore at his nerves. He realized that Dong Ham and the girl must also be listening to the bell. They were probably standing as motionless as himself, looking at each other, wondering why he wasn't answering the telephone.
The bell abruptly ceased to ring. The sudden silence in the room pressed down on him. Carefully, he stepped away from the broken pieces of glass. He must get out of the house, he told himself. He couldn't stay here a minute longer. Later, he would come back, but right now, until his nerves settled, he must get out.
He went quickly up the stairs, took off his shorts and had a shower. He put on a pair of trousers and a shirt that were lying on a chair, thus avoiding opening the closet. He checked his money and was dismayed to find he had only 500 piastres in his wallet. He rummaged among his handkerchiefs in a drawer in his closet and found another too piastres note.
This wasn't so good, he thought. He needed money. If he was going to get out of the country, he would have to have money. His mouth tightened when he remembered it was Sunday and the banks were closed. He would have to cash a cheque at one of the hotels. He was pretty well known now in Saigon. It surely wouldn't be difficult to get some hotel to cash his cheque.
As he was about to leave the room, he suddenly remembered he had left the diamonds in the hip pocket of his shorts and this forgetfulness frightened him.
I must pull myself together he told himself as he took the envelope from the pocket of the shorts. I'm risking my neck for these stones and here I am, walking out without them.
He opened the envelope and examined the stones under the ceiling lamp. The sight of them sent a surge of excitement through him. He returned to the sitting-room and searched in his desk drawer for something more solid to hold the diamonds. He decided on an empty typewriter ribbon box. He put the diamonds into the box, again pausing to admire them, then put the box in his trouser pocket. He found his cheque book which he put in his wallet, then he walked into the kitchen and looked across the courtyard through the slit in the shutter.
Dong Ham was squatting outside the cookhouse door, staring blankly towards him. There was no sign of the girl. Wondering where she had got to, Jaffe returned to the sitting-room and looked through the shutters into the street beyond. He stiffened when he saw the girl squatting on the edge of the kerb opposite, looking towards the house.
These two obviously suspected something, he thought, but with the inevitable, dim-witted Asian patience they were waiting to see what happened. But at the same time, they were taking no chances. While the old man watched the back door, the girl was watching
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