Charlie Muffin U.S.A.

20

There was a dichotomy between Pendlebury’s appearance and habits and the way he regulated his work-life. As uncaring and casual as he was about himself and as distrustful as he was of restricting regulations, he nevertheless organised every assignment with painstaking care and efficiency, and so it was with this, the biggest operation in which he had ever been involved.

Aware from the electronic eavesdropping of every detail of Chambine’s robbery, Pendlebury had devised a plan which covered and then nullified every stage of it and made the failure of Terrilli’s entrapment virtually impossible.

Pendlebury thought of it as a ripple effect, in reverse, so arranged that as Chambine’s men passed through a series of checkpoints, the bands would draw together behind them, finally creating around the Breakers and Terrilli’s mansion a noose from which it would be impossible to escape.

Because he knew the robbery was scheduled for Thursday, he sensibly had not bothered to utilise the vast force at his disposal, maintaining instead the necessary but reduced surveillance teams and resting the remainder until the moment they would be needed.

He had assumed that the thieves would make the journey from Disneyworld to Palm Beach by road during Thursday, but just in case arranged to have a helicopter available at Orlando, should they charter a small aircraft. The watchers at the Contemporary Resort would trigger the whole operation with their notification to the communications unit that the six men were on their way. Between Disneyworld and Palm Beach, Pendlebury proposed to establish twelve radio-controlled cars from which he was confident he would be able to maintain absolute but undetected observation. The immediate surveillance vehicles were to be staffed by agents from the Lantana and Lake Worth contingents and as they started to move, so Pendlebury had arranged for the units in Miami, Boynton Beach and Fort Pierce to close in on Palm Beach, concentrating his force at the spot where it was needed. By the time Chambine’s men crossed the Flagler Memorial Bridge, Pendlebury intended to have 150 men within a five-mile radius, awaiting instructions, with two helicopters in the air, guaranteeing aerial observation. The cutters based at Jupiter were to be activated the moment the men left Orlando, giving them sufficient time to move around and position themselves within sight and radio contact of the Breakers and the mansion.

He had reviewed the arrangements several times, asking Warburger and Bowler for constructive criticism and had decided, even before getting their unqualified approval, that he had evolved a perfect scheme.

A believer that attention to detail was the keynote to success, he was yet again examining every section of the plan when Heppert, who ironically heard the news on the same local radio station that alerted Giuseppe Terrilli just a mile away, knocked anxiously at Pendlebury’s door. Immediately he was admitted, he blurted out that the English insurers were withdrawing cover because they were unsure of the security arrangements.

‘Shit!’ said Pendlebury, with a vehemence that startled the Pinkerton’s man.

‘Yes,’ agreed Heppert, misunderstanding the other man’s outburst. ‘I think it’s most uncalled for, too.’

Concerned that he would be affected by any apportionment of blame, Heppert said, ‘I only meant the figures I gave to be rough estimates. I never supposed they would be taken literally.’

The bastard,’ said Pendlebury, driving his fist against his thigh in frustration. ‘The rotten, awkward bastard. It’s the first time I haven’t anticipated him.’

Heppert frowned both at the remark and the extent of Pendlebury’s annoyance.

‘I presume you’ll call head office,’ said Heppert, unwilling to take the responsibility. ‘We’ll have to get guidance.’

‘Yes… yes, of course,’ said Pendlebury, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him.

‘The exhibition organisers have asked for a conference,’ reported Heppert. ‘They’ve asked the Englishman to attend as well.’

‘Give me an hour,’ demanded Pendlebury, looking at his watch. ‘Say two o’clock.’

He was reaching for the telephone when it rang anyway and Warburger came immediately on the line.

‘What the hell’s happening?’ demanded the Director.

Pendlebury cupped his hand over the receiver, looking at Heppert. ‘Two o’clock,’ he repeated, dismissing the man.

Pendlebury remained silent until Heppert had closed the door, then said into the mouthpiece, ‘IIe did something I hadn’t expected. Staged some damn-fool test last night, then claimed security was lax. I presume he complained to London.’

‘I’ve checked,’ confirmed Warburger. ‘The announcement came from there. Can they remove cover just like that?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Pendlebury. ‘That’s not what is immediately concerning me. The organising committee are demanding a conference, so they’re obviously frightened. God knows what Terrilli’s reaction will be.’

‘He might abandon it, you mean?’

‘He could,’ said Pendlebury, as a fresh wave of exasperation engulfed him. ‘Will Cosgrove be able to hold out against any premature closure?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Warburger. ‘He’s already called me direct. He wants a private briefing from you personally.’

‘What shall I tell him?’

‘Everything.’

Pendlebury paused, surprised at the man’s reply. ‘Even the idea of getting Terrilli indicted for the Englishman’s death?’

‘He wants involvement. Let him have it.’

‘I’d rather not.’

‘It’s an order,’ snapped Warburger. ‘And give the rest of the organising committee any sort of assurance they need. Tell them we’ll put in more guards – anything. I’ll fix it with Pinkerton’s here.’

Pendlebury replaced the telephone and sat back, trying to calm himself and to think the complication through. That’s all it was, he tried to reassure himself; merely a complication. They were still more than in control of the situation, whatever Terrilli instructed his people to do. As he poured himself the first drink of the day, Pendlebury realised that his hand was shaking, rattling the bottle top against the glass edge. It was the effect of this morning’s news rather than the alcohol of the previous night, he knew. The telephone rang again fifteen minutes later, while he was rinsing his mouth of any trace of alcohol before his meeting with the exhibition organisers. He recognised the voice of the communications chief.

‘Terrilli’s made a call,’ reported the man. ‘About ten minutes ago. To Chambine at the hotel.’

‘What did he say?’ demanded Pendlebury urgently.

‘It was to arrange a meeting.’

‘Do we have it covered?’

The man paused, having anticipated the question. ‘It’s at the beach,’ he said unhappily. ‘There’s no way we could monitor it.’

‘Damn!’ said Pendlebury, the word hissing through his clenched teeth. ‘The son-of-a-bitch has fucked everything up.’

‘Terrilli?’ asked the communications man curiously.

‘No,’ said Pendlebury, irritated. ‘Forget it. Now listen. Get on to the Contemporary Resort. Tell those listening there I want to know every word that’s said in every room in which we’ve installed devices. We might stand a chance of picking up whatever they talked about there: Chambine is almost certain to make contact. Now get off the line; I’ve other calls to make.’

Pendlebury summoned Roger Gilbert to his room, outlining within minutes what Charlie had done.

‘Is it serious?’ demanded the man.

‘It is if Terrilli cancels everything. And that’s what he might be meeting Chambine to discuss.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Six of you on the beach in five minutes,’ said Pendlebury. ‘Stripped and apparently enjoying yourselves. You obviously won’t be able to get near enough to hear what’s going on, particularly if Chambine goes to Terrilli’s private beach. But I’m betting that Terrilli will come to the hotel area, where there are more people and therefore protection. As soon as it’s over, I want you all back here, giving me as full an account as it’s possible to assemble. Understood?’

‘What about the Englishman?’

‘We’ve enough men to cover him,’ said Pendlebury. ‘He’ll be at a meeting with me most of the time.’

‘It’ll mean using yesterday’s people,’ warned Gilbert.

‘Then be careful,’ said Pendlebury. After Gilbert had left the room, Pendlebury remained half crouched in a sitting-room chair, reviewing what he had done. He had become complacent, he realised, critically. Everything had conformed so easily to his expectations that he had overlooked the unexpected and now he was having to move too fast. And speed unsettled Pendlebury. He liked to consider problems in a leisurely fashion, imagining a move and then his opponent’s counter to it, like playing chess. He looked towards the vodka bottle, decided against it and went down to the exhibition room.

Cosgrove was just inside the door of the side chamber. Heppert and the chief of the uniformed guard stood slightly apart and the Englishman was alone, near the linking door into the main hall. Charlie Muffin smiled at Pendlebury’s approach, guessing from the look on the man’s face that the threat of withdrawal had had the disruptive effect he had hoped for.

‘This is monstrous,’ said Cosgrove in his politician’s voice.

Pendlebury ignored the organising chairman, halting just in front of Charlie.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he demanded.

‘You keep asking me that,’ complained Charlie. ‘I thought I’d made that clear last night. I’m trying to protect the exhibition. That’s what I came here for.’

‘You’ve put the fear of God up everyone.’

‘The time it took people to react to an alarm bell last night put the fear of God up me,’ said Charlie. ‘It should have had the same effect on you.’

‘I said this is monstrous,’ repeated Cosgrove, forcing his way into the conversation. ‘Do we have proper cover here or don’t we?’

‘At the moment you don’t,’ said Charlie. It pleased him to deflate the pompous man, particularly as he knew from Clarissa of Cosgrove’s earlier annoyance.

‘My firm have asked me to say how sorry they are for any inconvenience,’ said Pendlebury.

‘There’s already been a committee meeting,’ reported Cosgrove. ‘They don’t see how they could possibly continue without the proper insurance protection. I argued against cancellation, but the feeling was that the risk is incalculable.’

‘We are willing to draft here immediately as many extra people as you consider necessary,’ Pendlebury assured him.

The white-haired man looked at Charlie. ‘What is necessary for security doesn’t really seem to be my prerogative,’ he said.

‘No,’ said Charlie. ‘It’s mine. You were not here for the test I made last night, but had you been I’m sure you would have been appalled. It took eight minutes to open the exhibition doors, even to discover if anything had been touched. And a full twenty minutes for the local police to arrive.’

‘I was here within minutes,’ Pendlebury interposed defensively.

‘ Outside,’ qualified Charlie, ‘by yourself for a further five, and with no idea of what might have been going on behind those locked doors.’

‘Shall we sit down?’ suggested Cosgrove, indicating a semi-circle of chairs that had been arranged.

Charlie had expected Pendlebury to be irritated, but not as annoyed as he obviously was.

‘How many extra men would you consider necessary for your firm to continue the insurance protection?’ Cosgrove asked Charlie, once they had settled at the table.

‘It’s not a question of numbers,’ said Charlie. ‘It’s a matter of efficiency.’

‘We could increase the number of patrols perhaps to one every fifteen minutes,’ offered Pendlebury.

Charlie sat gazing at the man, aware of his desperation and curious at it.

‘Well?’ demanded the chairman of Charlie.

‘We would also like an improvement on the night-time checks,’ said Charlie. ‘At the moment the guards merely look through the windows. I want the doors opened and the cases examined.’

‘Agreed,’ said Pendlebury tightly.

‘A number of display case keys were available in New York,’ Charlie reminded him. ‘I want them fully accounted for.’

‘They will be,’ conceded Pendlebury.

Cosgrove shifted hopefully. ‘So we’re in agreement?’ he said, smiling.

‘No,’ replied Charlie. ‘The announcement about cover was made from London. Obviously I must consult them first to see if all their doubts are resolved.’

‘Where does that leave us?’ demanded the man, allowing his annoyance to show for the first time.

‘With limited cover and the understanding that we would dispute our liability were anything to happen to the exhibition until we have formally issued an addendum to the policy, guaranteeing the points agreed here.’

‘It would take days for a document to arrive here,’ protested Cosgrove. ‘I think I should warn you that we are taking legal advice about this. If our lawyers advise it, we will consider issuing a writ against your company, demanding the continued protection.’

‘I expected you to take the proper advice,’ said Charlie, unconcerned. ‘As far as the document is concerned, it was my intention to have it telexed from London, here to the hotel.’

Cosgrove smiled briefly. That would be acceptable, certainly,’ he said.

‘How long will it take to get a reaction from London?’ asked Pendlebury.

Charlie looked at his watch. ‘It’s seven-thirty at night there now,’ he said. ‘I can speak to my principal at home, but I doubt very much that we could manage it today… I don’t even know about tomorrow. There are members of a syndicate to consult.’

‘But this is preposterous!’ exclaimed Cosgrove. ‘We couldn’t continue, faced with this uncertainty.’

‘What would you do?’ demanded Pendlebury.

Cosgrove shrugged. ‘At the meeting this morning there was talk of curtailing the exhibition.’

Charlie had been watching Pendlebury as the other American spoke, so he saw the open concern on the F.B.I. man’s face.

‘We could have extra staff here by tomorrow,’ said Pendlebury.

‘It’s not my agreement that’s necessary. It’s the insurers’,’ said Cosgrove.

‘The whole thing could be settled within three days,’ Charlie tempted him. ‘Four at the outside.’

‘I don’t think we would be prepared to run the risk for that length of time,’ responded Cosgrove.

‘No,’ said Pendlebury, unaware of the trap Charlie had set. ‘It must be resolved before then. Two days would be the longest we could consider waiting.’

Charlie kept from his face any expression of satisfaction at Pendlebury’s slip. Two days was acceptable; four was not. So whatever was going to happen was scheduled for either Wednesday or Thursday. The meeting was proving far more productive than Charlie had hoped.

‘You’re not prepared to confirm full cover with the promises that have been made here today?’ Cosgrove demanded of Charlie.

‘No.’

‘But you will contact your principal immediately?’

‘Yes.’

‘And warn your London office what I said about lawyers?’ added Cosgrove.

‘Of course,’ said Charlie.

‘Until the insurance is restored, we’ll restrict opening,’ decided Cosgrove. ‘We’ll delay until eleven in the morning. And close earlier than nine. Five, I think.’

‘That should make it easier for you to organise your security properly,’ Charlie said to Pendlebury.

‘I never regarded it as badly organised before,’ said the American.

‘It was though, wasn’t it?’ said Charlie.

Anticipating that there would be reporters and cameramen outside the room, Charlie lingered, unwilling to be photographed. The journalists descended on the recognisable figure of Cosgrove and Charlie moved quickly around the crush, hurrying back to his rooms. He kept the telephone to his ear, after booking the call, listening to the connection being made with London and trying to identify any other sound which would indicate a tap on his line. Willoughby answered immediately. Fairly confident there was no monitor, Charlie outlined to the underwriter what had happened and what he suspected.

‘Wednesday or Thursday is only a guess?’ asked Willoughby.

‘I think I’m right,’ said Charlie.

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Nothing,’ said Charlie. ‘Just keep the whole thing in the air.’

‘I’ll have to put it to the company lawyers tomorrow. If it’s judged that we’re introducing frivolous objections, I would be contravening Lloyd’s regulations. The American lawyers might claim that.’

‘I don’t care what arguments go on,’ said Charlie. ‘Just as long as nothing is resolved. When have you ever known lawyers to give an opinion in hours rather than days?’

‘Never,’ admitted the underwriter.

‘Exactly,’ said Charlie. ‘As long as we’re known to be doing the proper things, we can’t be accused of breaking any regulations.’

‘Have you thought you could be wrong about all this?’ asked Willoughby suddenly.

The question momentarily stopped Charlie. Despite his apparent success in tilting Pendlebury off balance, Charlie still had a vague feeling that there was something he had missed.

‘No,’ he said, ‘I’m not wrong.’

Charlie replaced the receiver after his call to Willoughby at about the same time as Pendlebury, two floors below, ended his conversation with Warburger, in Washington. Pendlebury went to the window of his room, worried by the panic he’d detected in the Director’s voice. He stared down at the specks on the beach far below, knowing it was ridiculous but trying to see Terrilli and Chambine and his surveillance team. An impending disaster, Warburger had called it. An exaggeration, Pendlebury thought; but considering the meeting that morning, not much of one.

Pendlebury had been right in guessing that Terrilli would choose the hotel section of the beach. Despite owning it, Terrilli had rarely been down to his private seafront. He crunched awkwardly over the beach now, unhappy at the surroundings. He found it easy enough to relax by the side of his pool, assured of people in attendance and with cleanliness guaranteed, but the sand irritated him, getting into his shoes and making it uncomfortable to walk, and although the beaches had been swept that morning. there was still the occasional palm frond or scrap of paper, which he found messy. He crossed the barrier designating his own property, and among the bathers his feeling of distaste increased. There seemed to be a lot of shouting and children were screaming, and he knew that when they all went home they’d leave the place like a garbage tip. Disdainfully he lowered himself to the sand, on a soot as far away from other people as he could find, and while he waited for Chambine he took off his tennis shoes and tried to clean the grit from between his toes. He looked up as the sun was temporarily shaded from him, but made no sign of recognition to the man for whom he was waiting. Chambine did not stop beside him. Instead he spread a beach mat several feet away, stripped off his towelling top and lay out, not looking at Terrilli.

‘You heard the news?’ demanded the older man.

‘Not the first announcement,’ admitted Chambine. ‘But I picked it up after the meeting that was held in the hotel this morning.’

‘What was the result?’

‘Inconclusive. There are going to be greater security measures taken. But the insurers still seem unhappy.’

‘What about cancellation?’

‘Not yet… but it seems likely.’

‘So we can’t wait until Thursday?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Will that be a problem for you?’

‘I shouldn’t think so,’ said Chambine. ‘They seemed ready when I went to the warehouse.’

‘Could it be tonight?’

Chambine didn’t reply immediately. ‘Yes,’ he said, after thinking.

‘I think it would be best, before they get any extra men organised and in place.’

‘Of course.’

‘I don’t like having to make the change.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘But I don’t think there’s a choice.’

‘No,’ agreed Chambine, ‘I don’t think there is.’

‘You’d better leave first,’ said Terrilli. ‘You’ve things to organise.’

‘Your people will be expecting us?’

‘I’ll see to it. We’ll keep to the original timing.’

Chambine got up slowly, dusted off his mat and rolled it up.

‘See you tonight,’ he said, still bending so that the conversation would be hidden from any observers.

‘I’ll be waiting,’ promised Terrilli.

He remained for the minimum amount of time upon the beach, then rose gratefully and returned to his house. He went straight to the changing cabin alongside the pool, stripped off his sand-gritted clothes and left them for collection later. He looked up as Santano approached.

‘There’s been a change,’ he said. ‘Warn everyone who needs to know. It’s going to be tonight.’

Two miles away, a relieved Jack Pendlebury learned the same thing from his communications unit, which was monitoring all the telephone calls into the Contemporary Resort hotel in Disneyworld. Pendlebury smiled across at Roger Gilbert, who had just given a depressing report of their quite unsuccessful attempt to discover the purpose of Cham-bine’s beach meeting with Terrilli.

‘It’s going to be all right,’ said Pendlebury, unconcerned by the emotion evident in his voice. ‘They haven’t called it off; they’ve brought it forward. It’s tonight.’

Gilbert half stood, imagining the need to respond in a hurry, but Pendlebury waved him down, content that he was in control of the situation once more.

‘Everyone is in the right place,’ he said. ‘There’s no hurry. It’ll all go just as we planned.’

‘What about the Englishman?’ asked Gilbert.

‘Kill him,’ said Pendlebury decisively. ‘Kill him and dump him in the exhibition room. And then let’s see Terrilli get out of that.’

Pendlebury had argued with Warburger and Bowler that it was possible. And now he was going to prove it: he was going to get a murder indictment against Terrilli as well as one of robbery.

Williamson knew he would have to get Moscow’s agreement, but he could not foresee any objections. Having learned from his monitoring of Pendlebury’s rooms of the Americans’ intention to assassinate Charlie, Williamson intended merely to remain on the sidelines, to ensure that they carried out the operation satisfactorily; and then, virtually free from any possibility of involvement, to return to California.

Williamson knew that he had been exceptionally lucky. But Moscow wouldn’t know that. As far as they were concerned, he would have responded brilliantly to a difficult assignment.

Because he was anticipating congratulation, he was not surprised at the summons from the Washington Embassy, telling him to cross from Palm Beach to the mainland and establish contact from a call box. Williamson actually passed Charlie Muffin as he left the hotel and drove over the Flagler Bridge. The number he called was not any of those attributed to the Embassy and therefore free from interception.

Williamson’s superb training which, as much as luck, was responsible for what he had achieved in so short a time, again prevented his expressing the slightest surprise at the succinct instructions he was given.

Under no circumstances was he to carry out his original instructions to kill Charlie Muffin. Rather, he was to do everything to protect the man from any harm.