Hell Is Too Crowded - Jack Higgins [20]
"Finish him, Shaun! Finish him!" Das cried, and Shaun lurched towards Brady, great broken-nailed hands swinging almost to his knees. Brady grabbed for a small lacquered table which stood near by and threw it at his legs, and Shaun tripped over it and fell to the floor.
Brady had no illusions about his chances in a fair fight. He moved in quickly, aiming a kick at Shaun's head, but there was nothing wrong with the big man's reflexes. He grabbed Brady's foot, twisted it, and brought him down.
They rolled wildly from side to side, limbs threshing, as Brady tried to pull free, but it was no use. Great hands wrapped themselves around his throat as Shaun rolled on top, and Brady started to choke.
The room suddenly seemed to go darker and Brady, struggling desperately, remembered an old Judo trick and spat in Shaun's face. The big man jerked his head back in a reflex action and Brady rammed his stiffened fingers into the bare throat just above the Adam's apple.
Shaun's mouth opened in a soundless scream and he fell backwards to roll on the floor in agony, hands tearing at his collar.
As Brady got to his feet, feeling his throat tenderly, Das moved round the desk on his way to the door. Brady got hold of the yellow robe, swung the Hindu round in a circle and pushed him back into his chair.
Das glared up at him. "You won't get away with this, Brady."
The fine face was twisted with rage and Brady grinned. "I wondered what you were really like under that phoney mask of yours. Now I know."
"I'll see you back inside if it's the last thing I do," Das said venomously.
"No you won't," Brady said. "If the law gets its paws on me again, I'll pull you down with me. I'll tell them you arranged my escape and turned nasty because I couldn't pay you what I'd promised."
"They'd never believe you," Das said contemptuously.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that. They've probably got a file on you a foot thick at least. I bet they're just waiting for you to make one false move."
"Get out of here!" Das screamed.
"Not until you've told me what I want to know," Brady said. "You asked Wilma Sutton to arrange for me to have a fatal accident, preferably by tonight. I'd like to know why."
"Go to hell!" Das said sullenly.
Brady shrugged and stood up. He walked across the room to the shelves on which the Hindu's collection was displayed, picked up a beautiful alabaster jar and hurled it at the wall.
It smashed into a score of pieces and Das jumped to his feet with a cry of dismay. "That's just to show you I mean business," Brady said. "My next trick's even better."
He picked up the Ming vase and raised it slowly above his head and Das cried out in horror. "For God's sake, no, Brady! I beg of you."
"Then start talking," Brady said. "I haven't got much time."
"A man came to see me last week," Das said hurriedly. "He was from London--a Hungarian called Anton Haras. He told me that it was necessary that you should die, that he was willing to pay well if I could arrange this."
"Who put him on to you?" Brady asked.
Das appeared to hesitate and Brady started to raise the vase again. "No, please, I'll tell you," the Hindu gabbled. "It was a contact of mine in London. We do business together from time to time."
"What name?"
"Soames--Professor Soames. He's a naturopath. Has premises in Dell Street near Regent's Park. I've never met him. He's just a contact I use when I need certain merchandise."
Brady raised the vase in one quick movement and Das stumbled round the desk, arms outstretched. "I'm telling you the truth, I swear it."
For a moment Brady looked straight into the twisted, sweating face and then he handed the vase across. "You'd better be," he said.
Das clasped the vase to his chest with an audible sigh of relief and Brady walked across to the door, past Shaun who was sitting up now and moaning softly like some wounded animal, his face purple.
As Brady opened the door, Das said viciously, "Somebody wants you dead, Brady. I don't know why, I don't even know who. But I hope they get their hands on you before