A Lotus For Miss Quon Read Online Free PDF

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    Wade said he had been skiing. He grumbled about the filth of the Saigon river while Jaffe only half listened.

    Seeing he wasn't holding Jaffe's interest, Wade said, "I've got hold of a piece of Chinese tail for tonight," and he leered. "She's a real dish. I ran into her at L'Arc-en-Ciel the other night. If she performs the way she looks, I'm in for one hell of a night."

    Looking at the fat, good natured man who lolled opposite him, Jaffe felt a sharp twinge of envy. He too expected to have a hell of a night, but horribly different from the one Wade was anticipating. In an hour or so, he would have to decide what he was going to do, and on that decision, his freedom and life depended.

    "Apart from the girls and the Chinese food," Wade was saying, "this is a hell of a dump to live in. I'll be mighty gladwhen I go home. These goddam restrictions give me a pain in the pants."

    Jaffe was staring past Wade out on to the street at the two Vietnamese policemen who lounged outside the hotel; small, brownskinned men in white drill with peak caps and revolvers at their hips. The sight of them gave him a sickish feeling. He wondered how Wade would react if he told him he had murdered Haum and had hidden his body in his clothes closet.

    "I see you're still running that little car," he heard Wade say and realized the fat man had been talking for some time and he hadn't been listening to what he had been saying. "Do you still like it?"

    Jaffe dragged his mind away from his problem.

    "It's all right," he said. "I'm hiving trouble with the automatic choke, but the car wasn't new when I bought it."

    "Well, I guess it's handy for parking, but give me a big car," Wade said and glanced at his wrist-watch. The time was three minutes to seven. He got to his feet. As he stood beside Jaffe, he wondered what was bothering he guy. He seemed so far away and unfriendly. This wasn't like Jaffe. Usually he was a good guy to drink with. "Are you okay, Steve?"

    Jaffe looked up sharply. Wade had an uneasy idea he was suddenly scared.

    "I'm all right," Jaffe said.

    Wade frowned at him, then gave up.

    "Watch out you're not sickening for a dose of dysentery," he said. "I've got to run along. I promised to feed my girl friend before she performs. See you, pal."

    As soon as Wade had driven away, Jaffe took out his cheque book and wrote out a cheque for 4,000 piastres.

    He went over to the reception desk and asked the clerk if he would cash the cheque. The clerk, a pleasant-faced Vietnamese who knew Jaffe, asked him politely to wait. He disappeared into the Manager's office, reappeared in a moment or so, and smiling, handed Jaffe eight fivehundred piastre notes.

    Relieved, Jaffe thanked him and tucked the notes into his wallet. He left the hotel and drove up Tu-Do and parked outside the Caravelle Hotel. He entered and asked the reception clerk if he could cash him a cheque. Here again, the clerk knew him, and after a brief visit to the Manager's office, he cashed Jaffe's cheque for another 4,000 piastres.

    As he was leaving the hotel, he paused abruptly in the entrance, feeling his heart give a violent kick against his side.

    A policeman was standing by the red Dauphine, his back to Jaffe. He appeared to be examining the car.

    A few hours ago such an occurrence would have merely irritated Jaffe and he would have gone to the policeman and asked him what he was looking at, but now the sight of the little man in his white uniform frightened Jaffe so badly he had to resist the urge to run.

    He remained motionless, watching the policeman who moved slowly to the front of the car and looked at the number plate, then he slouched away, his thumbs hooked in his gun belt to pause a little further up the street to examine yet another car.

    Jaffe drew in a sharp breath of relief. He went down the steps to his car, unlocked it and climbed in. He glanced at his wrist-watch. The time was twenty-five minutes past seven. He drove back to the river, past