Both Sheng and his Oriental friend seemed to relax. Their arms hung loosely at their sides. Sheng took half a step forward.
“That would not be a wise thing to do, Rozano.”
For a few seconds there was silence. Each of us had our own thoughts. I could guess what was running through Nicoli’s mind. He didn’t know which of us to trust, if either. His organization was tight-knit. To kill anyone as high-ranking as me or Sheng would leave a gap that would be difficult to fill. Especially since he didn’t have any positive proof that either of us had betrayed him. Sheng I couldn’t read. The man was impossible to psych out.
The Volkswagen bus was getting closer now. I could hear the mechanical ticking of its engine. The lights were beginning to illuminate the four of us standing next to the Mercedes. The Turks were still on the plane out of sight.
I only had one thought on my mind: getting away and making it to the boat before Quick Willie had his unique brand of fun with Tanya and shoved her system full of heroin.
Then Nicoli swung the gun toward me. “I think I trust you least of all, Tommy. There is something in what Tai Sheng says. He tells me he thinks you are lining up the families against me, not for me.”
“That’s rubbish,” I said loudly. “Rozano, my old friend, we go back too many years for this. We came up in the organization together. Who is better to lead all the families, huh? Me?” I shook my hand. “No, I am good with figures and books, but I cannot organize. The families would not flock to me as a leader. No, my friend, you are the only one to take over. You and I are friends. We go back a long time. What would I gain by cutting you out? Nothing. Now ask your friend, Sheng, what he would gain if you got squeezed out.”
“Friendships are no good any more!” Nicoli shouted. “This thing of ours is in jeopardy, it has no leadership.” Tears started coming to his eyes. “Tommy, Tommy, you were my dearest and sweetest friend. But it is you who have crossed me.”
I frowned in disbelief. “You are wrong, my friend. It wasn’t me.”
He nodded sadly, tears still streaming down his cheeks. “Yes, Tommy, it was you. It was when we were talking on the plane. I asked you who you thought would be a good candidate for the East Coast. You agreed that Frank The Cook Desmond would be good. I tricked you, Tommy. It was a bad thing to do but I felt I had to. You see, The Cook was killed last week in Las Vegas. A taxicab ran over him.”
My mind raced. That was where I had slipped. But I wasn’t dead yet. “That doesn’t mean I betrayed you. The Cook was on the list, you were considering him for the East Coast. Sheng’s men probably hit him. I’ll bet the cab driver was Oriental.”
But Nicoli was still shaking his head. The tears on his cheeks sparkled against the lights of the approaching Volkswagen bus. “That is not the point, Tommy. The point is I learned of the death by an overseas phone call — from my good friend, Thomas Acasano.”
“Who are you, pal?”
Twelve
The bus was coming alongside now, its headlights making the area around us bright. It was about to stop. The Turks were still out of sight in the plane.
Tai Sheng was smiling broadly in self-satisfaction. “Rozano, I learned something else about your good friend, Thomas Acasano. The photo taken in the lobby of the hotel was enlarged and then compared with a photo taken ten years ago. My men used magnifying glasses to look for differences. There were many. If you look closely you will see that the bone structure of the nose is quite different. Also the curve of jawline. The distance across the bridge of the nose from eye-pupil to eye-pupil measures almost a quarter of an inch off between the two photos. This man is an impostor, Rozano.”
“Yes,” the little man said, nodding. The gun never wavered from my stomach. “But please go on, Sheng. This is fascinating.”
Sheng’s perfect teeth shined brightly in the headlights. He was enjoying himself. “Since we knew who this man wasn’t, we decided to find out exactly who he was. He had one drink at your villa, straight bourbon, I believe. My man here lifted the prints from the glass. When we sent them along with the photo by coded wire to Intelligence Headquarters in Peking, the results were very interesting.”
Nicoli took a step forward. “So? So? Don’t play games with me, Sheng. Who is he?”
“Peking has a very large file on him. Oh, I don’t suppose a man in your position would have ever heard of him, but I have. You see, Rozano, the girl pretending to be Sandee was not working alone. She was working with another AXE agent, a very good agent we call Killmaster. His name is Nick Carter.”
All sadness left Nicoli’s face. He took a step toward me. “You took me for a fool, huh? Am I so stupid I cannot see through such a disguise? All right, Mr. Carter, you have bought it. But answer me one thing. Where is my old friend, Thomas Acasano?”
“Dead, I’m afraid,” I said.
“You bastard!” The gun jerked in his hand, a blast of fire spat out of the barrel, there was a loud BLAM sound through the air.
And even as it happened I couldn’t believe it. A powerful hand used all five fingers to grab the flesh at my side and pinch unmercifully. Then it was as if a hot poker had been pressed against me and somebody was slowly pushing it through me.
The force of the slug spun me around with such speed my arms went flailing out above my sides. My right hand struck Sheng on the chest, but the blow didn’t slow me. With my ankles twisted together I fell face forward against the fender of the Mercedes, then slowly slid down to curl by the wheel.
All this took fractions of a second. I was not dead, I had not even lost consciousness. My knees were up close to my chest, my hands pressed against my stomach.
The shot had taken a chunk of meat from my side. Already my shirt and jacket were soaked with blood.
Immediately after firing the shot, Nicoli was no longer interested in me. He swung the gun toward Sheng.
The pain was running deep into my guts. I could feel it moving up my spine. My back was pressing against the tire of the Mercedes. The Volkswagen bus had reached us now. It had almost stopped.
Slowly I moved my hand up my chest until I reached the opening of my sport coat. With my hand under the coat I could feel the hard warmth of the Luger. Keeping my eye on the group above me, I carefully pulled Wilhelmina from her holster and got her against my stomach. Both hands hid the gun from sight.
“I have been deceived by everyone,” Nicoli shouted. “I think that Nick Carter was right, Sheng. You want the list. You sent two of your men to that apartment to find it. Then you tried to bluff him out of it when you picked him up at the hotel.”
“That’s not true, Rozano.”
The Oriental with Sheng was partly hidden behind him. Slowly his hand began inching toward his chest. He moved a little more behind Sheng.
Nicoli was nodding. “Yes, it’s true. I can’t trust any of you! I will have to do it all now, starting from scratch.”
Another shot rang out, another blast of fire spat from a gun barrel. Nicoli dropped his gun and clutched his stomach. He doubled over with such force his rimless bifocals dropped from his head. The headlights from the bus made him look like he was on his knees supplicating Sheng. He lifted one knee to try to get on his feet, and he stayed like that looking up at Sheng.
Blood was oozing between his fingers and over the back of his hands. He clutched his stomach tighter.
The Oriental who had stepped from behind Sheng to fire the shot, moved two paces to the side, keeping his revolver aimed at Nicoli. When he reached the gangland leader’s fallen gun he kicked it aside. And by that time Sheng had his own gun in his hand. He aimed it at Nicoli’s face.