River of Death by Alistair MacLean Read Free Book Online

area of search until he finally pinpoints what he's after. The element of chance doesn't enter into that man's calculations.'

'You might be right, my dear,' Smith said. 'In fact you're almost certainly right. Anyway, what matters is that Hiller says that Hamilton seems to have located some diamond hoard.'

Maria said: 'Part of the war loot?'

'Overseas investments, my dear, overseas investments. Never war loot. In this case, however, no. They are uncut — rough-cut, rather - Brazilian diamonds. And Hiller is an expert on diamonds -God knows he's stolen enough in his lifetime. Anyway, it appears that Hamilton has fallen for Hiller's story, hook, line and sinker - in Hiller's rather uninspired phrase. Two birds with one stone — he's found both the European gold and the Brazilian diamonds. Looks as if this is going to be even easier than we thought.'

Tracy looked vaguely troubled. 'He hasn't the reputation for being an easy man.'

'Among the tribes of the Mato Grosso, agreed,' Smith said. He smiled as if anticipating some future pleasure. 'But he's going to find himself in a different kind of jungle here.'

'Maybe you overlook one thing,' Maria said soberly. 'Maybe you're overlooking the fact that you've got to go back into that jungle with him.'

Hiller, in his room in the Hotel Negresco, was studying a gold coin which he held in his hand when he was disturbed by an erratic knock on the door. He pulled out a gun, held it behind his back, crossed to the door and opened it.

Hiller put his gun away: the precaution had been unnecessary. Serrano, both hands clutching the back of his neck, swayed dizzily and practically fell into the room.

'Brandy!' Serrano's voice was a strangled croak.

'What the hell's happened to you?'

'Brandy!'

'Brandy coming up,' Hiller said resignedly. He gave a generous double to Serrano who downed it in a single gulp. He had just finished his third brandy and was pouring out his tale of woe when another sharp rat-tat-tat came on the door, this knocking far from erratic. Again Hiller took his precautionary measures and again they proved unnecessary. The Hamilton who stood in the doorway was scarcely recognisable as the Hamilton of two hours previously. Two hours in the Hotel de Paris's grandiloquently named Presidential suite — no president had ever or would ever stay there, but it had the only bath in the hotel not corroded with rust — had transformed him. He had bathed and was clean-shaven! He wore a fresh set of khaki drills, a fresh khaki shirt without a rent in sight and even a pair of gleaming new shoes.

Hiller glanced at his watch. 'Two hours precisely. You are very punctual.'

The politeness of princes.' Hamilton entered the room and caught sight of Serrano who was busy pouring himself another large brandy. By this time it was difficult to judge whether he was suffering the more from the effects of the blow or the brandy. Holding the glass in one rather unsteady hand and massaging the back of his neck with the other, he continued the restorative process without seeming to notice Hamilton.

Hamilton said: 'Who's this character?'

'Serrano,' Hiller said. 'An old friend.' It would have been impossible to guess from Hiller's casual off-handedness that he'd met Serrano for the first time only that evening. 'Don't worry. He can be trusted.'

'Delighted to hear it,' Hamilton said. He couldn't remember the month or the year when he last trusted anybody. 'Makes a welcome change in this day and age.' He peered at Serrano with the air of a concerned and kindly healer. 'Looks to me as if he's coming down with something.'

'He's been down,' Hiller said. 'Mugged.' He was observing Hamilton closely but could well have spared himself the trouble.

'Mugged?' Hamilton looked mildly astonished. 'He was walking the streets this time of night?'

'Yes.'

'And alone?'

'Yes,' Hiller said and added in what he probably regarded as a rather pointed fashion: 'You walk alone at night.'

'I know Romono,' Hamilton