Free The Mystery of Yamashita's Map by James McKenzie Page B

onto the hand of the man in front who walked with a sure-footed step and was happy to be led wherever he wished. Eventually they came to a door and they both stood for a moment.
     
    Lisa tried to wake the professor to tell him that she had found three Amichis but no matter how hard she tried he would not budge and his snoring, quite frankly, was becoming a little embarrassing in the University library. His face had a kind of calm written upon it that she had never seen before so she decided to leave him and go to the refectory for a coffee instead. Sitting at a table drinking it, she idly glanced through the copy of the army register. Without quite being aware of what was happening, her attention was drawn to the street below and to the form of a running man. For the second time that week she watched a person weave in and out of the crowds below, desperate to get away; this time, however, they did not enter the University doors but kept on going, towards the docks. Looking along the street, Lisa saw three others chasing him. They were all wearing black suits and were finding it difficult to keep up. To her surprise one of the men pulled out a gun and fired it at the fleeing man, who ducked into a side street, the bullet missing him and hitting the side of a building instead, sending a shower of brick dust into the air. There were screams from the street. In the alley, Joe breathed heavily. The day had started badly and had got worse. He had met guys like this before but they had always given up by this point. It was a strange sensation to have to watch your back as soon as you woke up; an almost impossibility to everyone but a contortionist.
     
    He peered out of the alley and looked around him. He couldn’t see them anymore, only the hole in the building that they had left. His glance took his eye up to the window of the university where the eyes of a pretty girl met his; they both looked away in embarrassment. He quickly looked around him and darted off down the street. Swinging on the awning that stood outside, he ducked into the Club One Hundred, a place where he had spent many an afternoon in recent weeks staring into the bottom of a glass and trying to block out the sound of the awful music they played constantly through large speakers on the wall. Of course, the music was made somewhat more bearable by the presence of the Club One Hundred dancers, who would give you anything you wanted for the price of the name of the club. Inside it was as dark as it always was. That was why Joe liked it there. It was too dark to see anyone’s face clearly so you blended into the background without risking too much. He strode up to the bar and ordered a drink. The barman turned slowly. ‘You back again?’ he said in a clipped tone. Joe looked sheepish. The last time he had been in the Club One Hundred he had been rather the worse for wear and had started a fight over the price of a book of matches; looking back he could see their point, it was only ten cents but at the time it had seemed extortionate. He gave a wry smile to the waiter. ‘Yeah . . . erm . . . you got that drink?’
     
    ‘You want a match?’
     
    Joe laughed and the memory of the beating he took from the doormen came back to him in a flash. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I bought a lighter.’
     
    ‘Very wise,’ the barman said. ‘Very wise.’
     
    The music suddenly changed and the lights went even dimmer than usual. Joe turned around and propped himself up on the bar. Beside him the barman placed a small grubby glass with thick brown liquid in it. Joe took a swig and felt it hit him like a Hong Kong doorman – fast and low.
     
    On the stage, the curtains opened to reveal a woman in a pair of boots and very little else. As Joe watched she writhed on the stage and turned and shook like a strange exotic play of light. Her body sparkled in the dim glow of the club and shot waves of energy to anyone who had come in out of the afternoon sunshine. Joe stared, his eyes