Sharky's Machine by William Diehl Read Free Book Online

the String with Twelve Knots. It is said that her tongue is like the wings of a butterfly.’
    Halford was moved by the obvious vulnerability of this beautiful creature and by the sadness in her enormous eyes.
    ‘Yes,’ Halford whispered, ‘it must be her.’
    Madame Kwa smiled. ‘You have made the choice of the wise men,’ she said. ‘The gods will envy you.’
    ‘How do I talk to her?’ Halford asked.
    ‘It will not be necessary. She will communicate with you, Colonel, and you will have no trouble understanding.’
    Burns stood in the shadows at the end of the alley watching the house on Bowring Street. He had disposed of the attaché case in a convenient storm sewer. He waited until he was certain the street was empty and then crossed swiftly to the mahogany door, which was propped open by a stick.
    He moved the stick, stepped quickly through the door, let it click shut behind him, and stood with his back against the wall, waiting until his eyes were accustomed to the darkness of the garden. It was empty. He moved swiftly across the stream and stood in the shadows under a cherry tree thirty feet from the corner room of the north wing of the house. Again he waited.
    The room was small and comfortable, its floor covered with a llama rug, its walls decorated with yellow and red striped satin. It contained a large wooden tub big enough for two people and a massage table covered with a mat of goose feathers. Beside it was a smaller table covered with urns of oils, powders, and creams. There were no lights, only scented candles.
    Heth Led Halford by the hand to the room and she slid the door shut behind them.
    ‘You wait,’ she said in her tiny, melodic voice.
    She walked across the room to the door leading into the garden. But a foot or two from the door she stopped. Her hand reached out and, like a hummingbird poised before a honeysuckle bush, it fluttered for a fraction of a second before it found the door and slid it open.
    Halford was stunned. Now he understood her vulnerability, the sadness in her incredible eyes, why Madame Kwa had said, ‘She is special to all of us.’
    Heth was blind.
    ‘You see,’ she said turning in his direction, ‘gar-den.’
    Emotions he had forgotten swept over him, desire, feeling, longing. He walked across the room and held her face between his fingertips.
    ‘Yes, I see,’ he said gently. ‘I see for both of us.’
    Heth smiled and her fingers moved over his body, as soft as cobwebs swaying in the wind.
    Thirty feet away, Burns watched front the shadows, saw Halford framed in the doorway, watched as he touched the girl’s face, saw her respond, her fingers moving over his body, the buttons on his shirt opening as if by magic as she removed his clothing.
    The girl was great.
    She led Halford to the tub and her hands moved down, unbuckling his belt, unlacing his shoes. She knelt before him and removed his shoes and pants and, reaching up, slipped her hands inside the waistband of his shorts. Her fingertips flirted with him, touching and yet not touching. She finished undressing him, leaning forward and breathing softly on him, letting her lips brush against him. She began an almost imperceptible chant in Japanese. She touched his face, felt the rigid line of his jaw, his quivering lips, and slipped two fingertips inside his mouth, tapping his tongue. Her own tongue flittered over his chest and sucked at his nipples. She took his hand in hers, helped him undress her, guided them over her breasts, her stomach, and down to hair as soft as rabbit’s fur.
    His fears vanished. He was hypnotized, overcome by a sensuality more complete than any he had ever known. His manhood was restored.
    Burns moved silently across the garden and stood near the door, heard her soft chant, the sounds of water splashing, the murmur of soft laughter. He took the Cotton swabbing from his pocket, wrapped a strip around one hand, held it in place with his thumb, and slipped on one of the surgical gloves.