The Javanese slid into a chair beside the youth. “You mean you’ve got something else you would like to sell?” he asked.
Halvorsen nodded, trying to appear casual and matter-of-fact.
“Maybe we can do business,” Scar Face said. “What have you got to sell?”
Halvorsen said, “What would you pay for a pound of heroin?”
The Javanese was impressed. “You can get heroin? You are not fooling me?”
“I’m not telling a lie,” Halvorsen said. “How much for a pound?”
Scar Face said, “If it’s pure stuff, I’ll take two pounds and pay you ten thousand dollars American money.”
$10,000 for two pounds of heroin! Halvorsen was so startled that he blurted: “That’s too much. Five thousand would be enough. I’ll have to get the stuff from the ship.”
Scar Face said, “You wait here. I’ll be back.” And he hurried from the bar.
In less than five minutes he was back with two other men, one of them dressed in a police uniform. They took Halvorsen to the dock, where they boarded a police launch which carried them to the Fernhill. Halvorsen took Scar Face to his cabin and told him to wait there.