Assignment - Karachi by Edward S. Aarons Page A

English doctor waved a bloody swab. “My dear man, it would take a great deal of courage. This eye could have been badly injured.”
    “But it isn’t.”
    “Fortunately for Herr von Buhlen, no.”
    Rudi’s mouth was puffy, and the eye the doctor referred to was partly closed by swelling. There was a gash above it that needed stitches.
    “Tell us again why you took the girl to Aswali Alley,” K’Ayub said harshly.
    Rudi shrugged. “I was lost, as I said. We were heading for the golf course—for dinner, a few drinks. Jane wanted to see the waterfront slums. I made a wrong turn and found myself in that dead-end spot and before I could back out; the Chinese boy jumped her.”
    “For no reason?”
    “He had a reason, I suppose.”
    Durell lit a cigarette. “What do you suggest it was?” Rudi winced as the doctor began stitching above his eye. “He thought she was Sarah Standish. I don’t know how to express my shock. It was a terrible mistake, to impose the deception on Jane. It led to her death.”
    “The Chinese boy addressed her as Miss Standish?”
    “Yes. And then he knifed her. He was terribly fast.” “And then you shot him?”
    “Yes. I was shocked, but after all—”
    K’Ayub said quietly, “But you knew we were following you, did you not, Herr von Buhlen?”
    “No, I did not.” Rudi’s voice was angry for a moment. “Why should I think anyone would follow me?”
    “You knew we were looking for Jane King.”
    “No, I didn’t know that, either. I was upstairs when Mr. Durell came to the bungalow. I haven’t met him before—not until you gentlemen found me in that alley.”
    “Yet you took evasive tactics in your drive that caused us to lose you and drop far behind. We only found you because of the distinctive car you drove. It attracted some attention.”
    Rudi spread his hands. “Well, there you are. If I were trying to lure Jane secretly to that place, would I advertise my route by hiring that Ferrari?”
    “You might,” Durell said.
    Durell looked tall and angry. He had seen the butchery on Jane King, and the ugly image lingered in his mind. It was one thing, when you were in the business and knew the risks and balanced your training and reflexes against the wiles of the enemy. It was another to be a bewildered and helpless Jane King, accustomed to the sane and orderly world above the surface of Durell’s. He resented her death. It was unnecessary. And it had been brutally cruel. He was not satisfied with Rudi’s explanation that Jane had been mistaken for Sarah Standish. Possibly it was the truth—but not all of the truth, he thought.
    He tried to be objective about Rudi. There are men you meet whom you dislike instinctively, as two male animals in a jungle will at once be charged with mutual enmity. The feeling was there between himself and the blond man. Rudi knew it. They both understood it the first time their eyes met. There was a smell of conflict between them that might only be resolved by violence. Yet nothing but a few polite questions and replies had been exchanged.
    The Sikh sergeant came in and whispered something to K’Ayub, who gestured to his Pathan servant. Zalmadar went out with the Sikh.
    K’Ayub said, “Herr von Buhlen, you were a friend of Miss King’s, were you not?”
    “Not exactly a friend.”
    “More, perhaps?”
    “Once. Not any longer.”
    “You were once lovers, is that it?”
    Rudi nodded readily. “True.”
    “But today your love had turned to hate, it had ended in jealousy, in a threat perhaps by Miss King to tell Miss Standish of your affair with her?”
    Rudi did not look surprised. He paused for only a moment. “She was pregnant,” he said. “I suppose your doctor just reported that. Please don’t play clever games with me, Colonel. You and I may be together for some weeks, starting tomorrow. We may need each other. So I admit it, man to man, and trust you will understand. Jane King thought I should be named as the father of her