Exploits Read Online Free

morning, Doctor Jones,” he said without getting up from his chair.
    “Good morning, Brother Wong,” I said. “How'd it go last night?”
    “Apprehend whole gang,” he said happily. “Rupert Cornwall in cell one flight up from yours.”
    “That's great news, Brother Wong,” I said. “And did you get the emerald back?”
    “Empire Emerald once again on display in Fung Ping Shan Museum.”
    “I guess that closes the case.”
    He nodded. “Cannot teach old dog new tricks.”
    “Well, I'll sure remember that the next time I run into an old dog, Brother Wong,” I said. “I assume I'm free to go.”
    “Farther you go, the better.”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “It best you leave Hong Kong,” said Wong. “Many friends and clients of Rupert Cornwall not very pleased with you.”
    “A telling point,” I agreed. “Gimme just a couple of hours to get my gear together and I'll be off.”
    “Thank you for help, Doctor Jones,” said Wong. “Knew you were right man for job.”
    “My pleasure, Brother Wong,” I said.
    Then I took my leave of him, went back to the Luk Kwok, and looked around to see if there was anything I wanted to take along with me. There were some old shirts and pants and socks and such, but since I was about to pick up the Empire Emerald on my way out of town, I decided that I really owed myself a new wardrobe, so I finally left empty-handed.
    I moseyed over to the area where the gift shop was, did maybe an hour of serious window-shopping up and down the street for the benefit of anyone who might have been watching me, and finally entered the little store after I was sure I wasn't being observed.
    “You are Lucifer Jones, are you not?” asked the proprietor the second I closed the door behind me.
    “How did you know?” I asked. “I don't recall talking to you last night.”
    “I was given your description by Inspector Wong,” he replied. “He left a note for you.”
    He handed me a folded-up piece of paper, which I opened and read:
    Dear Doctor Jones:
Had feeling all along you were perfect man for job. Had honorable Number Ten, Fourteen, Seventeen, and Twenty-Two sons observe you constantly since you left custody. Not only is Rupert Cornwall under arrest, but we now know weakness in museum security system, all thanks to you. Is old Chinese custom to exchange gifts. You will know where to look for yours.
Your humble servant,
Willie Wong,
Hong Kong Police
P.S. Money is root of all evil.
    I threw the paper down on the counter and raced over to the radiator. I reached behind it, found my gum and the stone, and pulled it out: it was the same lump of coal Rupert Cornwall had given me two days ago.
    “Is something wrong, Mr. Jones?” asked the storekeeper.
    “Nothing I shouldn't have expected from trusting someone who ain't a decent, God-fearing Christian,” I said bitterly. “Give me a map, brother.”
    “A map?” he repeated.
    “This town's seen the last of me,” I said. “I'm heading to where a man of the cloth can convert souls in peace and quiet without being worried about getting flim-flammed by gangsters and detectives and the like.”
    He pulled a map out from behind the counter. I looked at it for a minute and then, with four hundred and fifty pounds of Rupert Cornwall's money still in my pocket, I lit out across the mouth of the Pearl River for Macao, where I hoped to find a better class of sinner to listen to my preaching.

2. The Sin City Derby
    Macau didn't smell a lot better than Hong Kong, and it wasn't no cleaner, but it offered more opportunities to an enterprising Christian gentleman like myself. In fact, it offered more opportunities to just about everybody, since it was where all the young Hong Kong bucks went to do their gambling and find their short-term ladyfriends.
    I got off the ferry, trying to figure out what to do next, when a young blond guy pulling an empty rickshaw stopped in front of me.
    “Howdy, brother,” I said. “Take me to wherever it is