Read Spy Killer for Free Online Page B

him.
    Kurt glanced at the Japanese. They eyed him with a suspicion of hostility. “Nothing of any moment, Varinka.”
    “But certainly you must have something, to come so far to find me.”
    “Oh, yes, perhaps you’d be interested to know that . . . that Lin Wang . . . But then I would feel better if I could impart this information to you privately.”
    “Of course. I have a car outside and I am living a short distance away. You are probably hungry and you must come with me to get something to eat. We can talk then.”
    Kurt felt the leaden silence of the room. He felt very uncomfortable. He could feel the thoughts of the Japanese. They were not at all sure of him, those fellows, and he knew they were telling themselves that they would keep their eye on him. He felt a chill run up and down his spine when a soldier clattered his rifle against the wall. The brown eyes stabbed him. Death and danger were heavy in the room.
    Varinka did not seem to notice it. Her fur-topped boots whispered over the hard floor as she led Kurt out to the waiting car. Three sentries, carrying their rifles in their hands, swung on to the running board. Kurt felt that he was under arrest.
    A cold wind was sweeping across the dead brown hills, stirring up dust through the blackness. Kalgan was silent and without lights. It slept uneasily under the heel of its conqueror from across the Yellow Sea.
    They arrived at a small enclosure and went through a wide gate, which was quickly clanged shut behind them. The sound had a finality to it which Kurt did not like.
    The guards dropped to the cobblestones of the courtyard. Kurt looked about to see that this house, like most Chinese houses, was built in three separate huts, each one serving a different purpose. The gray stone walls reminded him of a prison.
    But the furnishings of the room into which he was led belied the exterior. Fine silks were draped along the walls. Colorful cushions were strewn about the border of a tan and black carpet. A fire was crackling cheerfully in the fireplace. The heavy odor of Russian incense, far too sweet, caught in Kurt’s throat.
    Varinka threw off her coat and tossed the cap aside. She sat down on a cushion and placed her left hand on the floor for support. She smiled at Kurt.
    The three guards were outside somewhere, walking back and forth, feet resonant upon the stones.
    A black-gowned amah came in, bowed, saw that Varinka had a guest and quickly went away. She returned in a moment with excellent whisky and a tray of food, which she placed on a chow bench.
    Kurt ate slowly, watching Varinka, and listening to the footsteps of the guard. Finally he said, “This is rotten business.”
    Varinka shrugged. “One has to live.”
    “You mean you’re a spy for these yellow devils? You mean you’re willing to help them take over China. Not that I care what happens to China, but after all the Japanese . . .”
    “One has to live,” said Varinka.
    “But to be guarded like this—”
    “Those guards are there because the Japanese are suspicious of you, Kurt. You have no official status here.” She paused as though unwilling to say more. Then, with a glance up at the small window, she leaned closer to him and lowered her voice, “I’m afraid they think that I . . . A spy can never tell who his friends and enemies are.”
    He caught a glimpse of fear in her eyes when she said that, but the expression was instantly gone.
    “Tell me what happened to you,” she said, lighting a long cigarette.
    Kurt snorted. “They picked me up after you left the house. Lin Wang’s men, I mean. Lin Wang has a confession waiting for me in Shanghai and if—”
    The food gagged him suddenly. He realized then that this Takeki and Varinka were one and the same person. He had been sent to Kalgan to kill Varinka, and if he did not kill her, his own life was forfeit. But then, hadn’t one of Yang’s men tried to kill him? Wasn’t that bond absolved? But still, the confession was in the