Istanbul (20 page)

"I was going toward Istanbul?" She repeated. Suddenly she laughed. "Damn! How you like that. I thought I was going home! I've been at the Lido, drinking. Drowning my sorrows. Guess I took a wrong turn, huh?"

"I guess you did. So how about it — drive me into Istanbul? I'll pay you plenty."

The red pout again. "Money? I don't need money. I'm loaded, honey! Or my husband is — same thing, huh! He's not home tonight, though. That's good, huh?" The girl took a swig from the bottle. She made a face then smiled at Nick. Her teeth were white and even. "Whyn't come home with me, doll? We can have lots of fun, huh? You know — mice can play when cat's away." She took another drink and swayed into his arms again.

Why not? He could at least get a bath and something to eat and — well, he would let that work itself out! Nick had never cared much for married women — they were usually trouble.

"Have you got a phone at your place? I'll have to make a call."

The girl smiled and took his arm. "Sure we got a phone, darling. What you think we are — peasants? We're not. We're big shots. We got
two
phones. You can use them both if you want!"

Nick followed her back to the car. She slid behind the wheel. "We pointed right now? For the Black Sea?"

"You're pointed right," said Nick. "But maybe I'd better drive?"

"No. You're my guest. I'll drive."

She pulled her loose skirt high up on her thighs. "Can't drive in the damned thing," she explained. "Binds my legs. How you like my legs, honey. Good?"

Nick surveyed the revealed expanse of startlingly lovely leg. The skirt was nearly to her waist. He could see the black garter straps and a fringe of panty.

"You have lovely legs," he agreed.

The girl leaned to stare at him. Her tone softened, she did not seem drunk now. "You do look a little beat up, honey! Maybe I hurt you after all, huh? Maybe I better take you to a hospital — or to the police? We can always meet another time."

The police! A hospital! Neither held any fascination for Nick Carter. Especially the police.

"Nice of you to offer," he said. "But I'm all right. Drive on."

The
Kosk
was not so much a villa as a sort of minor league palace. It stood, a pink and cream stucco edifice, on a wooden eminence overlooking the Black Sea and a view of fantastic beauty. It had once been the summer home of Turkish royalty, or so said Tessa Travis, the girl who had brought Nick to the place. He had taken her word for that, along with everything else. It was very dark and he had not been able to see much of the road, or anything else, because she had driven like a fiend.

Now, his wounds bathed and anointed after a lovely tepid shower, he lay on a soft round bed, in a borrowed terry-cloth robe of her husband's, and wished he could go to sleep. N3 sighed. He wasn't going to get off that easy and he knew it. Tessa Travis — her husband was at the moment in Greece on business — had been very patient with him. She had sobered up with surprising speed, and had been quick to anticipate his every need. She was not with him at the moment, but she would be back. Oh, yes! Tessa had made it very clear that she expected a certain payment for her generous hospitality.

The phones were out of order. Both of them. Nick pondered that as he watched the stark white beam of the Feneri light sweep through the ornately furnished boudoir every minute, like the sweep hand on a gigantic watch. The beam passed over his stolen garments tossed carelessly on a chair.

Nick sipped at the scotch and water he was nursing, the glass cold on his flat belly, and dismissed the matter of the phones. Turkish phone service
was
lousy at times. He drew luxuriously on his cigarette — American — and stamped it out in an ashtray on the bed beside him. He wished again he could, sleep — for days! Yet he knew it was impossible — he would remain here a few hours, then get into Istanbul, call Hawk, and go after Johnny Ruthless! Get it over with. Fast!

The door of the boudoir opened and Tessa Travis came in. She was still fully dressed, which surprised Nick a bit. He had expected she would slip into "something comfortable." Wasn't that the routine?

Tessa came to the bedside and bent to kiss him lightly. As her moist lips slid across Nick's he felt himself responding in spite of his utter weariness. Her perfume teased him, the sight of her breasts as she bent over him was aphrodisiacal He sought to kiss one of those exciting pale pears, with its cherry tips, but to his surprise — and faint annoyance — Tessa backed away. She gave him an odd smile. She put her hands on her hips and writhed her pelvis at him in revolving motions.

"Not so fast, huh, doll? Let little Tessa set the pace? Okay?"

For a moment something moved in N3's brain. Was there something familiar about this girl? No — couldn't be. He had never seen her before in his life. He wouldn't have forgotten
this
one — because she was a definite kook! Some kind of a lovely nut! N3 sighed inwardly. It took all kinds. And she was exciting, even in his present state of mind and body.

Tessa had retreated to the center of the room. She flicked off the single light. For a moment, in the dark, she was a phantom figure, a perfumed redheaded ghost shimmering in the murk. Then the Feneri light came around in its broad sweep and Nick saw her. She was pulling her dress over her head. From the depths of the frock she said, with a little laugh, "I'm gonna do a strip for you, doll! You like that? I'll bet you don't know something about me — I used to
be
a stripper! In Chicago! That was a long time ago, before I met Joe.
He
don't even know it!"

"Your husband must be a very understanding man," said Nick. "Or maybe tolerant is the word I want?"

He saw the white shoulders in a shrug of dismissal. "I couldn't care less what Joe is. honey! We don't get along so good. But, we get by — he has his kicks and I have mine. Right now you're my kicks, doll!"

The light swept the room again. He saw her coming slowly toward the bed. She was wearing opaque black panties, a garter belt and long black stockings. She still wore the high stilt heels.

Tessa halted a few feet from the bed. Her voice was husky now. Nick sensed a terrific excitement building in her. An excitement that more than matched his own — that was, in some way he could not define, not a
normal
excitement! Tessa was an odd one, all right! A real kook!

The girl did a sudden bump and grind. She revolved her torso in a shuddering convulsion. She laughed. "You know something, doll? If I'd known about Turkish belly dancing back in old Chi I could have knocked them dead! But who knew from belly dancing then? I was strictly a bump and grind and take it off girl! I was good, though. Sometimes I wish I hadn't give up my career to marry Joe!"

She's crude, thought Nick. Crude and more than a little vulgar! She's also beautiful and exciting and, at the moment, terribly desirable. He felt the urge rise in him. He held out his arms. "Forget your husband, Tessa, and come here. If I'm going to put the horns on him, and I've a feeling I am, let's get started, shall we?"

"Don't be in such a hurry," she whispered. She came to kneel on the bed beside him. When Nick tried to move into the dominant position she said no and pushed him gently back. "You let little Tessa take charge," she whispered in his ear. "You just relax, honey bun. Little Tessa will do everything." Her tongue, warm and moist, moved around the inside of his ear.

It was practically a rape. With Nick playing the unaccustomed role of rapee. Tessa began to breath hard as she laved his entire body with moist red kisses. Their tongues fought a dozen battles in the caverns of their mouths. Tessa was sobbing and panting now, but when Nick tried to remove her scant attire she fought him off. He gave up. The panties, it seemed, were to stay on! He thought again that she was a real — kook seemed inadequate now — a real nut! Maybe she was a little mad! If so it was an exciting madness!

Tessa had amazing strength for a slim girl. She kept him supine while she clamped her mouth to his and assumed the dominant position. Nick had the odd sensation that
he
was the girl,
she
the man! Tessa appeared to want it that way.

When she finally convulsed it was a minor atomic explosion. She screamed shrilly and fell away from Nick, kicking her long legs frantically and tearing at the red satin sheets. She clawed at his naked chest with her nails, inflicting new wounds on the old. Nick caught at her and held her until gradually she subsided, her sobs and moans fading at last to a shallow breathing. She said nothing, just lay quietly face down. He could see a great stain of saliva on the sheet beneath her wide open, still gasping mouth. After another minute or so the tremors stopped and she was quiet.

"Tessa?"

"Don't talk now," she said harshly. "Not now! Let me rest first!"

It was a different tone, a different woman who spoke. No trace of the lubricious Tessa. No trace of drunkenness, either.

N3 got up and went to the bathroom. It was huge, of dazzling pink tile with golden fixtures. Nick was impressed, but only for a moment. He got it almost instantly. The smell! Acetone! Nail polish remover!

For the next minute Nick Carter stood silent and unmoving, staring at his reflection in the big mirror. His face wore an expression of great self disgust. He was looking at a fool! A fool who deserved the death that was being now held in careful storage for him!

Noiselessly he opened the medicine cabinet and stood looking at the bottles of FASTACT. Nail polish remover for girls in a hurry. Made in Chicago. There were three bottles of the stuff.

Nick closed the medicine cabinet door, flushed the toilet — though he had not used it — and went back into the bedroom. Tessa was still on the bed, breathing softly, face buried in the pillow.

Nick turned on the overhead lights. This would have to be fast. He went toward the bed. The girl rolled over, squinting into the light. "No!" she complained. "No — turn off those damned lights, honey! Little Tessa wants to sleep..."

Nick smiled. A gentle, tender, friendly smile. He was close to her, staring down into the lovely face, the narrowed green eyes. He said, "I think it's time for little Tessa to wake up."

Nick grabbed the red hair and pulled hard. The wig had been stuck on well and it came off with difficulty, but it came off.

The effect was startling! Those narrow green eyes, now blazing with shock and hate — and the sleek black hair in a man's style haircut!

Nick tossed the red wig to the floor. His face was set in grim planes. "Hello," he said in a cold voice. "Hello, Johnny Ruthless!"

Her reaction was nearly too fast even for Nick Carter. Her hand came from beneath the pillow like a bolt of lightning, clutching an old fashioned straight razor, the blade laid back across her knuckles in the manner of a true pro. She leaped at Nick, sweeping the killing edge around in a great semicircle designed to slash him from ear to ear!

N3's reaction was just a half-heart beat faster. He let her have it with a short jolting right hand on the point of the chin! The razor flew from her hand and she turned, stunned and with glassy eyes, and slid off the bed to the floor. Out cold.

Nick picked up that lovely soft body, slim enough to play the man so well — when the good breasts were strapped down — and tossed it back on the bed. The red mouth was open and she was making hoarse snoring sounds. A little saliva dribbled from the corner of her mouth. Nick ripped off her garter belt and bound her hands behind her. He peeled off both stockings and tied her ankles with them. He did it roughly. He was livid now, sweating and pale and full of a terrible anger directed in equal parts at the girl and himself. He hated stupidity, especially in himself — and he had been stupid! It had been there to see all along! Marion Talbot, who had vanished so completely at the
Cinema Bleu!
She
had
gone up that rope ladder — as Johnny Ruthless! After changing clothes and washing the nail polish off her nails! As a woman she had liked to wear nail polish — as Johnny Ruthless she couldn't! But FASTACT took care of that. One minute and the nails came clean! And left the smell behind.

When he had her securely tied he made a fast search of the villa. He did it expertly and professionally and speedily. When he came back to the bedroom the girl was just opening her eyes. They hated him with a fierce burning intensity. Nick sat down on the bed beside her. He had gotten into his stolen trousers. Now he threw the terry cloth robe over her naked breasts. He lit a cigarette and stuck it in the petulant mouth. He said: "You want to tell me all about it, Johnny? Marion Talbot? Tessa? Which
is
the real you, anyway?"

"Why should I tell you anything, Carter?" She stared at him in sullen defiance. "You're going to kill me anyway — the same as you did Maurice and Carlos and the doctor! Not that I feel sorry for them — they deserved it, the fools! I told them to let me handle you — my way!"

Nick smiled coldly. "I do owe the late doctor something, I suppose. You were going to cut my throat at the sanitarium?"

"Yes! But that fool wouldn't let me! He was an old woman — always worrying about his precious skin. I should have cut
his
throat!"

Nick shrugged. "What matter? He's dead now. The point is that they're all three dead — but you're still alive! You might be able to stay that way, at least for a time. If you talk. I promise I won't kill you. I'll be disobeying my orders — but I'll take that chance. I'll turn you over to the Turks — you'll face a murder charge for killing Leslie Standish, at least! I imagine you've killed a lot of people, but one charge will hang you. They
do
hang over here, don't they?"

The girl nodded absently. Nick could see a glint of hope in the green eyes, could read her thinking. Time! She would be gaining a little time. Maybe the Turks would hang her — and maybe they wouldn't! It was better than what she faced now. So she was thinking and so N3 wanted her to think.