Temple of Fear by Nick Carter

sympathy is not given easily and is hard to come by. But we have always been honest and blunt with each other — you must come to the point, Kunizo! What do you want of me?"
    Matu expelled a long breath. There was about him a peculiar odor and Nick wondered if it was the actual smell of the cancer. He had read that some of them
did
stink.
    "You are right," said Matu. "Just as in the old days — you were usually right. So listen carefully. I told you that I was a double agent, working for both our intelligence and for British MI5. Well, in MI5 I came to know a man by the name of Cecil Aubrey. He was only a junior officer then. Now he is a knight, or soon will be — Sir Cecil Aubrey! Now, even after all these years, I still have many contacts. I have kept them in good repair, you might say. For an old man, Nick, for a dying man, I know pretty well what goes on in the world. In
our
world. The espionage underground. A few months ago..."
    Kunizo Matu spoke steadily for half an hour. Nick Carter listened intently, interrupting only now and then to ask a question. Mostly he drank saki, smoked one cigarette after another and fondled the Swedish K machine gun. It was an exquisite piece of machinery.
    Kunizo Matu said: "So you see, old friend, it is a complex matter. I no longer have official connections, so I have organized the Eta women and do the best I can. It is frustrating at times. Especially now, when we are confronted with a double plot. I am sure that Richard Philston has not come to Tokyo merely to organize a sabotage campaign and a blackout. There is more to it than that. Much more. It is my humble opinion that the Russians are going to swindle the Chinese somehow, double-cross them and leave them in the soup."
    Nick's grin was hard. "Old Chinese recipe for Duck soup — first catch duck!"
    He had come doubly alert at the first mention of Richard Philston's name. To catch Philston, even to kill him, would be the coup of the century. It
was
hard to believe that the man would leave the safety of Russia just to oversee a sabotage ploy, no matter how massive. Kunizo was right about that. It had to be something else.
    He filled his saki cup again. "You're positive that Philston is in Tokyo? Now?"
    Fat billowed as the old man shrugged his big shoulders. "As positive as one can ever be in this business. Yes. He is here. I had him and then I lost him. He knows all the tricks. It is my belief that even Johnny Chow, who is the leader of the local Chicoms, does not at the moment know where Philston is. And they are supposed to be working closely together."
    "That means Philston has his own people, then. His own organization apart from the Chicoms?"
    Again the shrug. "I suppose so. A small group. It would have to be small to avoid attention. Philston will operate on his own. He will have no connection with the Russian Embassy here. If he is caught doing — whatever it is that he intends doing — they will disavow him."
    Nick thought a moment. "Their place still at 1 Azabu Mamiana?"
    "The same. But it is no good watching their Embassy. For days now my girls have kept a 24-hour watch. Nothing."
    The front door began to slide open. Slowly. An inch at a time. The grooves were well tallowed and the door made no sound.
    "So there you are," said Kunizo Matu. "I can handle the sabotage plot. I can get evidence and, at the last moment, hand it over to the police. They will listen to me because, although I am no longer active, I can still bring certain pressures to bear. But I can do nothing about Richard Philston and he is the real danger. That game is too big for me. It is why I sent for you, why I sent the medallion, why I ask now what I thought I never would ask. That you pay a debt."
    He leaned suddenly over the little table toward Nick. "A debt / never claimed, mind you! It is you, Nick, who has always insisted that you owe me for your life."
    "That is true. I do not like debts. I will pay it if I can. You want me to find Richard