Free 1966 - You Have Yourself a Deal by James Hadley Chase Page B

and walked across the priceless Persian carpet he had inherited from his father, down the broad corridor, the walls of which were decorated with priceless Chinese scrolls, also inherited from his father, to open his front door.
    The small figure, wrapped in a white plastic mac standing outside the door made his heart give a little jump.
    “Why, Pearl . . . it is Pearl, isn’t it?” He peered at the small, beautiful face. “What are you doing here? You’re wet. Come in.”
    Pearl’s red-rouged lips curved into a smile as she moved past him. Puzzled, but excited, Wolfert followed her into the living room. He hurriedly turned off the hi-fi set, then smiled uncertainly at her.
    He had met her some months ago at Chung Wu’s restaurant.
    She had been dining alone, and it seemed to him the obvious thing to do since she had smiled at him, to join her. He had been entranced by her flower-like beauty. She had been startlingly direct. After an excellent meal, she had said quietly, “When I am fortunate enough to meet a man like you, I wish to be held in his arms. I have a room. Shall we go?”
    Scarcely believing his good fortune, Wolfert had left with her.
    They had gone to a small hotel in the Rue Castellane. The man behind the desk had given her a key. There was nothing to pay.
    Wolfert had seen a slight signal pass between the Vietnamese girl and the clerk but he was too excited to care. This could, he thought, as he followed the small hips up the stairs, be one of his most exciting adventures, and so it turned out to be.
    Western women, he thought, as he walked out into the hot narrow street an hour later, exhausted, but satiated, knew nothing of the technique of love. Of course, they imagined they did. Some he had known were quite adept at pleasing a man, but when it came to an explosive fusion of bodies, the Eastern women were supreme.
    He had met her three more times, and each time they had gone to the same hotel, then he had decided to make a change. Wolfert prided himself on variety. He ceased to go to Chung Wu’s restaurant. He found a Japanese airhostess at Orly whose technique charmed him. Then there was a serious Indian girl student at the Sorbonne, studying classical French . . . perhaps not quite so interesting, but at least amusing. Then there was the Thai girl.
    Even the thought of her made Wolfert wince. Inflicting pain on women nauseated him. This was something he couldn’t understand. He had quickly got rid of her, but the experience still slightly shocked him.
    Until this moment, he had forgotten Pearl, and he was puzzled, but still confident in his charms to be unworried.
    “It is a long time since we have met,” he said, watching her slip off her wet mac. “But how did you know I lived here?”
    She moved with flowing grace to an armchair and sat on the edge of it. In her black cheongsam with the white silk pants showing, her black hair oiled with a lotus bud behind her ear, she made an entrancing picture.
    “I want to know where Erica Olsen is,” she said softly.
    Wolfert gaped at her. For a moment he didn’t think he had heard aright, then sudden alarm flowed through him.
    “What do you mean? I - I don’t understand.”
    “The woman in the American hospital. She has been moved,” Pearl said, her black almond-shaped eyes glittering at him. “You work for Dorey. My people must know where she is. You must tell me.”
    Wolfert heaved himself to his feet. His fat face was flushed.
    He pointed a shaking finger at the door.
    “Get out! I won’t have you here! Get out at once or I will call the police!”
    She stared at him for a long moment, her face expressionless, then she opened her handbag and took out five glossy photographs.
    “Please look at these. You may not wish your friends to have them. I could also send them to Mr. Dorey. Please look carefully at them.”
    Wolfert gulped. He snatched the prints from her hand, examined them, turned white and shuddered. What he had never realised