Milo March #16 E-Book

M.E. Chaber

• Herausgeber: Steeger Books
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Milo March is sipping a martini at the pool of the Far Eastern Hotel, a lovely British blonde on his left and a Chinese beauty on his right, both in bikinis. What more could a man require? But then he is rudely interrupted by a call from Intercontinental Insurance in New York. They have a serious case that only he, their best investigator, can tackle. As usual, many millions of dollars are at stake. A large, well-organized ring is transporting stolen goods from the U.S. to Red China via Hong Kong. Milo doesn’t doubt that organized crime is responsible, and he is determined to put and end to the whole operation—not only the stealing, but the dealing with an enemy country. 

Milo persists with plodding but dangerous work, then suddenly, when he gets warm around the edges, he springs into  action. Assuming a secret identity as a tough loner named “John Milo,” he hangs out at a couple of bars frequented by con men. The V.O. and martinis keep flowing as he waits to make a connection to the smuggling ring.  Through an unpleasant police informer described as a “sick bulldog,” Milo makes a deal with a couple of men peddling stolen liquor, as this may lead him to the Syndicate men responsible for the smuggling. It does, but it also lands him in jail, charged with conspiracy to receive stolen property, possession of stolen property, and three counts of burglary—another day in the life of John Milo. Out on bail, Milo continues his quest and manages to land a job as a bagman for a Mafia don. Before closing the case, Milo will spar with some tough customers. A weasel-faced punk will stick a gun in Milo’s back, and someone will get badly injured. Milo will get lucky in Vegas and even luckier with the sensational woman known as the Dragon Lady of Hong Kong. And at the end, Milo will get a promised $20,000 bonus whether he solves the case or not. The latter outcome is highly unlikely…

Leseprobe

A Man in the Middle

by

Kendell Foster Crossen

Writing as M.E. Chaber

With an Afterword by Kendra Crossen Burroughs

Steeger Books / 2020

Copyright Information

Published by Steeger Books

Visit steegerbooks.com for more books like this.

©1995, 2020 by Kendra Crossen Burroughs

The unabridged novel has been lightly edited by Kendra Crossen Burroughs.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

Publishing History

Hardcover

New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston (A Rinehart Suspense Novel), August 1967.

Toronto: Holt, Rinehart & Winston of Canada, 1967.

Detective Book Club #309, January 1968. (With Woman on the Roof by Mignon G. Eberhart and Who Saw Maggie Brown? by Kelley Roos.)

Paperback

New York: Paperback Library (63-203), A Milo March Mystery, #2: January 1970. Cover by Robert McGinnis.

Dedication

For Lisa, the girl in the middle—of my heart.

One

There’s nothing like a vacation. I was on my second one within a month. The first had started in Los Angeles but had been interrupted by a demand that I do some work. I did it and found it profitable. Then I collected two very nice checks and took off for Hong Kong without telling anyone where I was going. I thought I was being pretty clever.

My vacation was enhanced by the fact that I was sitting at the pool of the Far Eastern Hotel. There was a dry martini in my hand, a lovely British blonde on my left, and a beautiful Chinese girl on my right. Both wore bikinis. What more could a man require?

In Hong Kong I am often called March hsien, which is about the same as “Mr. March.” In New York City, where I work as an insurance investigator, I am called Milo March—and sometimes more informal names. I get paid for being called the other names—plus expenses. The last is my piece of the Great Society.

I had been in Hong Kong for three days and was looking forward to at least two more weeks of no work, no phone calls, and plenty of whatever I felt like, when there was a rude interruption. From somewhere a loudspeaker squawked into life.

“Mr. Milo March,” it said with a very British accent. “Telephone call for Mr. Milo March.”

Well, I did know a few people in Hong Kong. I put down the martini, excused myself to the two girls, and went to the nearest phone. I picked up the receiver and said, “Milo March.”

“One moment, please,” the operator said.

I waited and then heard a voice I recognized. “Milo, boy, how are you?” it said. It belonged to Martin Raymond, a vice-president of Intercontinental Insurance in New York City. I did most of my work for them. I had no idea how he’d found me.

“So sorry,” I said in my best Oriental manner, “Mr. March not here. He leave for Singapore. He say he going for a gin sling. Good-bye now.” I hung up and went back to the two girls and the martini.

A few minutes later the loudspeaker rasped out my name again. This time I ignored it. The blonde was in the pool and the Chinese girl was talking about a wonderful restaurant where we could have dinner. It was much more interesting than talking to Martin Raymond. I could do without him.

That was what I thought. My name was called three more times within the next hour. I paid no attention. Then the calls stopped and I thought I was home free. I made a date with the Chinese girl and went to my room to get ready. I had a bottle of V.O. in my room, so I had some ice sent up, had a small drink, and then went in to shower and shave.

When I came out, I put on my shorts and made another drink. I lit a cigarette and relaxed while I enjoyed my drink, but I didn’t get much time for it. Someone knocked on my door.

I walked over to it. “Who’s there?” I asked without opening the door.

“Inspector John Simmons, Her Majesty’s Police. I would like to speak with you, Mr. March.”

I thought for a minute and then I remembered him. I had been on a case in Hong Kong four or five years before and I had worked with him. I opened the door and let him in, recognizing him as soon as I saw him.

“Hello, Inspector,” I said. “I hope you’ll excuse my attire.”

“Quite all right, old boy. I should have phoned, but there wasn’t much time.”

I ignored the implication. “Sit down, Inspector. May I offer you a spot?”

He glanced at his watch. “Perhaps a small one. With water. No ice.”

I made a drink and handed it to him, then retreated to my own chair and picked up my glass. “To old memories, Inspector. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” he repeated. He drank and put his glass down. “It has been some time, hasn’t it, Mr. March? The last time you were here it was about jade. What is it this time?”

“A vacation.”

His eyebrows went up. “Really? I thought you Americans never took holidays.”

“We do,” I said cheerfully. “Why are you here, Inspector?”

He looked at his watch again. “It is true,” he said stiffly, “that when you were last here you performed a certain service for us, but in a manner which we found most distasteful. If you will recall, I thanked you for what you had done, but suggested it might be well if you left Hong Kong as speedily as possible.”

“I recall. What does that have to do with my present visit?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It has been impressed upon me that in certain quarters you may be considered an undesirable alien.”

“You mean you want me to leave Hong Kong?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Oh,” I said. I poured myself another drink. “A bit more, Inspector?”

“No, thank you.”

“It seems that we come to the core of the matter,” I said. “You want something from me. Is that it, Inspector?”

“I’m only doing my duty, Mr. March.”

“I know. I’m only trying to find out what your duty is at the moment. Are you going to tell me, or is it top secret?”

He looked at his watch for the third time, then took a deep breath. “I do not like this any better than you do, Mr. March,” he said, “but I’ve been asked to tell you that within the next ten minutes you will receive a phone call. It is requested that you speak with the man who is calling and consider what he has to say—or you may be asked to leave Hong Kong immediately.”

I laughed “Inspector, have they reduced you to being an errand boy?”

His face stiffened. “I think I will have another spot after all, if you don’t mind.”

I poured another drink for him. “I’m sorry, Inspector. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was laughing at someone else. All right. I’ll take the phone call. Relax and enjoy your drink. Do you know what this is all about, Inspector?”

“I do not, Mr. March. I received my orders and that was all.”

“I think I can guess, but we’ll soon find out.”

The phone rang. I lit a cigarette before I picked it up. “Yeah,” I said.

“Milo, boy,” said Martin Raymond, “how are you?”

“I don’t know about me, but I can tell you about you,” I said. I then went ahead and told him until I ran out of breath.

“That’s my boy,” he said, “anything for a laugh.”

What do you do with a man like that?

“How did you find out where I was?” I asked.

“That was easy, Milo. You had to use your passport and you had to buy a ticket on an airline.”

“Now we come to the big question,” I said. “I refused to take your earlier calls. Now there is a very uncomfortable policeman sitting across from me who just finished informing me that I should accept this call or I might be expelled as an undesirable alien. How was that arranged?”

“I’m not quite sure,” he said. “Happily, I remembered the name of a friend of yours in Washington. He has some private interest in Intercontinental, and I believe he hopes to retire eventually and take a place on our board. I explained the situation to him, and he offered to see what he could do. It was most kind of him.”

“Wasn’t it? What is the situation and what is on what we laughingly call your mind?”

“Well, we do have a problem and we do need your help.”

“You forget that I am on my vacation, the same one I was supposed to be on before, when I was in Los Angeles.”

“I know, my boy. I—we—regret interfering, but it is a crisis. You owe us some loyalty, Milo. We are calling on that now. Of course, you will be well paid, including a generous bonus if you break the case.”

“You’re not just talking,” I said. “What’s the case?”

“There is a ring operating. We now suspect that it is very well organized on an international basis. There are nationwide thefts here in the States, and there is a general suspicion that a high percentage of the goods are going from here to Hong Kong and then on to Red China. Almost everything involved so far has been insured by Intercontinental.”

“Interesting. What are the goods?”

“Almost everything—business machines of all kinds, drugs of all kinds, television and radio sets. As near as we can learn, these things pour into the Los Angeles area from all over the country, then vanish. But we’re pretty sure they go to Hong Kong and spread out from there.”

“Who are ‘we’?”

“Well, we’ve made preliminary investigations, of course. Then we understand that various local police, as well as the FBI, are thinking along the same lines.”

“You say you think it’s organized. Do you just happen to mean the Syndicate?”

“Something like that.”

“Hundreds of cops are falling on their faces,” I said, “and you are calling on good old Milo March to come in as a single linebacker. Is that the picture?”

“I suppose someone could call it that,” he said stiffly. “We prefer to think that you’re the best man in the business and we wouldn’t think of going any other way. You’re our boy.”

“I thought we outlawed slavery,” I said. “Is that your whole case, just as you outlined it?”

“That’s pretty much it.”

“What about names and petty things like that?”

“I’ve already put a file in the mail to you. You should have it tomorrow. It will give you the names of the manufacturers of the products, the places where they were stolen, and a fairly complete list of what is involved.”

“What about the names of some of the people who have been doing the stealing?”

“No one has yet been arrested, so we’re not sure who they are.”

“Don’t the police or the FBI have some leads at least?”

“If they do, they haven’t told us.”

“Great,” I said, “just great. What makes you think that it’s the Syndicate?”

“It’s so well organized, it must be.”

“That kind of thinking got you made a vice-president? So where am I supposed to start?”

“Hong Kong, naturally. That’s why I got in touch with you.”

“Do you know that’s the place to start?”

“We’re reasonably certain that’s where most of the stuff is sent.”

“It’s always nice to start out with a complete file. What if I say no?”

“You’ll never get another assignment from Intercontinental. And you might not get one from any other insurance company. Then there is always the question of where you’re going to spend your vacation.”

“You always were sweet, Martin,” I said, “but I was never fully aware that you were merely a heist man in a Madison Avenue suit. I’ll take it—but only on my conditions.”

“You always do,” he said sourly. His voice had tightened. “What are they?”

“First, my regular daily rate—three hundred dollars.”

“Agreed.”

“You did mention a bonus, didn’t you?”

“Of course, Milo boy. You know we have always been generous in the matter of additional recompense.”

“Good. I want a guaranteed bonus of twenty thousand dollars whether I solve the case or not. You send me an agreement stating that, and five thousand dollars expense money. When I receive it, I’ll go to work.”

“What?” he exclaimed. “Twenty thousand! You must be out of your mind!”

“No. I’m in Hong Kong. How much insurance is involved up to the moment?”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“How much, Martin?”

“Fifteen million,” he said weakly.

“So?”

“And five thousand in expense money! What do you need that for? You have plenty of money. We just gave you a large bonus before you left Los Angeles.”

“That’s fun money. Now we’re talking business.”

“I never heard of such a thing! Three hundred dollars a day plus a guarantee of twenty thousand dollars plus five thousand for expenses! Why, Sam Spade worked for twenty dollars a day!”

“The price of martinis has gone up since Sam Spade was active. Take it or leave it, Martin. If you don’t like it, fire me and get another boy.”

There was a long silence.

“Martin,” I said, “did you faint?”

He sighed heavily. “All right, Milo,” he said. “I’ll send you the agreement and the expense money. Will you go to work?”

“As soon as I get the agreement and the money. Good night, Martin. Pleasant dreams.” I put the phone down.

Then I picked up the bottle and walked over to the Inspector. I splashed whiskey into his glass.

“I mustn’t,” he said. “I’m still on duty, you know.”

“So am I, Inspector,” I said. “I also owe you an apology. I have a pretty good idea of the pressures that were applied to make you come here to see me. What can mere mortals do against the might of Her Majesty’s government and the United States of America when they are united? They put on a jolly good show.”

“I think I will take another drink at that,” he said. “Bailey is on duty and he’s a good chap.”

“That’s the ticket, Inspector.”

He stared at me. “I did not mean to listen to your conversation, March, but I couldn’t help overhearing something about three hundred dollars a day and twenty thousand dollars. I presume you were speaking about American dollars and not Hong Kong dollars?”

“Right. With all your experience in police work, Inspector, you must be familiar with blackmail?”

“Quite.”

“You have just heard me blackmailed into taking a job I don’t want. So, in return, I blackmailed them into paying me something that will hurt them even though they can afford it and they expect me to save them several million dollars. It seems a fair exchange to me.”

“Quite,” he said again, “but astounding.”

He’d finished his drink, so I walked over and poured another for him. This time he didn’t protest.

“Inspector,” I said, “do you know anything about business machines and drugs coming through Hong Kong on their way to Red China?”

“No,” he said promptly. “I know the rumors about such activities, but I have no official confirmation. We have investigated, but have not come up with anything concrete. We are aware, you understand, that there is considerable traffic between here and the mainland, yet it is not an easy thing to pin down. We try, but we simply do not have the manpower.”

“What about these rumors? Are there any specific people involved that you know about?”

“No names. We have heard that there are Americans and Chinese involved; still we have not been able to get any names—not that we haven’t tried, old boy.”

“I’m sure you have,” I said. “Can we agree on a policy of cooperation?”

“Within reason, my good chap.”

He finished his drink. I tried to get him to have another. He adamantly refused. He must have been swacked, yet he stood up with great dignity, said good night, and marched out.

I finished my drink and got dressed. I was debating whether I should have another drink or not when there was a knock on the door. I went over and opened it. There was a Chinese standing there. Not just any Chinese. He must have been close to seven feet tall, and it was all muscle.

“March hsien?” he asked.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“You are to come with me,” he said.

“I don’t think you’re my type,” I told him. “Where am I to come with you? And why?”

He smiled—or something close to that. “To where I take you. My orders are to be polite to you if you agree to come—to bring you whether you are polite or not.”

“And if I don’t want to come?”

He showed me his teeth again—and then a large-sized pistol. “Then this will be necessary, March hsien.”

Two

He was convincing—or the gun was. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite place him. It didn’t seem there was much time for figuring that out. I had a gun hidden away in my suitcase. Even Doc Holliday would have had trouble making a fast draw from there.

“Let’s go,” I said, “but make it fast. I’ve got a date a little later.”

He put the gun back in his pocket, motioning me to go ahead of him, but he kept his hand in the pocket. We went downstairs and out through the lobby. We marched along the street until we reached a parked Renault. There was another Chinese sitting behind the steering wheel. The big Chinese and I got in the back and we drove off.

We followed a winding road up into the hills above Hong Kong and finally pulled in beside an expensive home. Then I knew where I was. It was the home of Po Hing, a very successful Hong Kong gangster. I had met him several times when I was in Hong Kong before.

We went into the house and the big Chinese ushered me into a large room. Po Hing was seated behind a beautiful teakwood desk. He was as fat as when I’d last seen him. He wore a silk suit, was smoking an American cigarette, and had a martini in front of him.

“My good friend Milo,” he said, getting to his feet. “I am honored to see you after so many years.”

I shook hands with him. “If you’re so honored, Hing, why didn’t you pick up the phone and invite me, instead of sending your strong-arm boy? Someday you’re going to lose a boy that way.”

He laughed. “You’re the only one I know who might be able to do it. That would be an interesting fight. I shall tell him to be careful with you.”

“Just try using the telephone instead of sending him. It’s one of those new inventions which may just last.”

“Clever, these Occidentals,” he said. “I heard you were in town. Looking for more jade?”

“I came on a vacation,” I said. “Why the sudden interest in me?”

“You’re my friend,” he said. “Help yourself to a drink.” He waited while I went over to his small bar and poured myself a drink. “I like to be sure you are all right. I still owe you a favor. How are things in San Francisco?”

“I haven’t been there in some time. I was in Los Angeles just before coming here, but I didn’t get up north. How are things with you, Hing?”

He waved one hand. “Ships still come into the Hong Kong harbor, and as long as they do, Po Hing makes a living.”

“I’ll bet,” I said. “How did you know I was in Hong Kong?”

“There is little that goes on here that Po Hing does not know. I was aware that you were here within the hour after you checked into the hotel, but I waited until you had time to get settled. Then I thought it would be nice to say hello to an old friend and to find out if I could be of any service.”

“Maybe you can,” I said.

“Oh-ho. Then it is not merely a vacation?”

“It was, but I just had a phone call that has changed things slightly. You have not enlarged your business interests, have you, Hing? I mean beyond the waterfront?”

“No. I make a humble living at what I know best and am content. One of my ancestors, I think, said that it is ambition that leads the tiger into the pit. Why do you ask?”

“Do you know anything about business machines, TV sets, and drugs coming into Hong Kong from the United States and then going on to the mainland?”

“I have heard rumors of such things,” he said, “but I have not paid too much attention, since it does not interfere with my business.”

“Do you know who is involved in it?”

“No. It is important to you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will find out. I owe you a favor, as I said. I will have the information for you by tomorrow night.”

“I appreciate it,” I told him. “Only don’t send your boy with orders to bring me back or else. Just pick up your nearest telephone and I’ll come running.”

“I get you, kid,” he said. “Have another drink.”

“No, thanks,” I replied. “The next time. I have a date tonight, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Oh, yes,” he said with a smile, “you were enjoying yourself at the pool with two lovely young ladies. One was a British girl named Mary Lansing. She is employed at the Hong Kong Bank. The other was a local girl named Jia Tang. She is secretary to the head of one of our largest export houses. It would be interesting to speculate which one you are seeing tonight. I would guess it is Jia.”

“Remind me never to gamble with you.”

“I told you I know everything in Hong Kong. What I don’t know, I can find out. I will get in touch with you.”

“Thanks, Hing,” I said.

I left the room and found the big Chinese waiting for me. He escorted me back to the hotel without a word.

It was still too early for my date, so I went into the bar and ordered a martini. I sipped it slowly and thought about my case. Hell, there wasn’t any case. There was only a story, and it didn’t have a beginning. Raymond had said that neither the police nor the FBI had any names. That was pretty unusual. Normally I could get some leads from the police.

Finally, I said to hell with it and went to pick up Jia Tang. We went to a restaurant she had suggested, then to a nightclub where we danced for a few hours before I took her home. I got back to the hotel about two in the morning and went straight to sleep.

The next day was quiet—no mail and no phone calls.

I spent most of the afternoon at the pool. Finally, about teatime, I went back to my room. I had a quick shower and made myself a drink. If it hadn’t been for the call from Martin Raymond, it would have been a fine vacation. I’d always liked Hong Kong. I’d still try to crowd as much relaxation into it as I could.

There was one phone call I’d wanted to make since I’d arrived. I wasn’t quite sure why I had hesitated. The last case here had been one involving stolen jade. I had met a very wealthy Chinese who collected jade. He had made his wealth as a river pirate. I also met his daughter. Her name was Mei Hsu. She was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. We’d had some pretty good times together.

I guess I hadn’t called her because I knew how difficult it is to turn back the clock or the calendar. But I kept remembering her, so now I made up my mind. When I was here before, she had kept an apartment of her own, although she spent most of her time in her father’s house. I still had the phone number of the apartment. I called it, only to be told that the number was no longer in existence. I looked up her father’s number and called it. A man answered.

“I would like to speak to the daughter of Hsu Chin Kwang,” I said in Chinese.

“Who wishes to speak to the flower of the House of Hsu?” he asked in the same language.

“I am called Milo March.”

“Wait,” he said.