Whiff of Money

Four

His hands clammy, his heart thumping, Henry Sherman handed his false passport to the blue-uniformed official at Orly airport. The man glanced at the photograph, glanced at Sherman, nodded, stamped the passport and returned it with a brief ‘Merci, monsieur.’

Sherman walked through the barrier, consulted the index board and found his flight left from Gate 10. He glanced at his watch. He had twenty-five minutes before take-off. Nice, easy time, he thought as he walked down the long aisle towards Gate 10. He paused at the bookstall to buy the New York Times and a couple of paperbacks, then as he was starting on his way again, there was an announcment over the tannoy.

‘There will be a one hour delay on Flight AF 025 to New York. Will passengers for New York please go to the reception centre? They will be informed when to proceed to Gate 10.’

Sherman flinched. This could be dangerous. The longer he remained at the airport, the greater the chances were of his being recognised.

‘Tiresome, isn’t it? Especially for you,’ a quiet voice said at his side.

Sherman started and swung around, then stiffened as he stared at the short, squat man who had come up silently and was now standing before him.

This man had hooded eyes, a thick hooked nose and the deeply tanned complexion of a man who travels a lot in the sun.

He wore a black slouch hat and a dark English tweed suit, impeccably cut. Over his arm, he carried a light-weight black cashmere overcoat. A large diamond glittered in his tie. Another large diamond set in a heavy gold ring, glittered on his thick, little finger. His shirt, the handkerchief in his top pocket, his lizard skin black shoes were immaculate. He exuded power, money and luxury as he might well do for that squat man was Herman Radnitz, internationally known as one of the richest men in the world whose thick ringers spread like the tentacles of an octopus over the whole of the financial globe; a deadly spider sitting in the middle of his web moving bankers, statesmen and even minor kings as a chess player moves his pawns.

Radnitz was the last man on earth Sherman expected or wanted to see. He knew immediately that Radnitz was far too astute not to have recognised him. There was no question of attempting a bluff.

‘We mustn’t be seen talking together,’ Sherman said hurriedly. ‘It’s too dangerous.’

‘Yet we will talk,’ Radnitz said in his guttural voice. ‘The door marked A.’ He pointed. ‘Go in there, I will join you.’

I am sorry, Radnitz, I…’

‘You have no alternative,’ Radnitz said. He paused, his hooded eyes were little pools of ice water as he stared up at Sherman, ‘Or do you imagine you have?’

The threat was unmistakable. Sherman only hesitated for a brief moment, then he nodded and walked away, his heart now hammering, his breathing uneven. He reached the door marked A, opened it and stepped into a luxuriously furnished waiting-room — a room, he guessed, reserved for V.I.Ps.

A few seconds later, Radnitz joined him. He closed the door and turned the key.

‘May I ask what you are doing here, Sherman?’ he asked with deadly politeness. ‘You are travelling on a false passport and wearing a ridiculous false moustache. Are you mentally ill?’

Sherman drew himself up to his full imposing height. Although he was frightened of Radnitz, he was determined to retain his dignity. After all, he reminded himself, he was the future President of the United States. This squat German must remember this.

I don’t know what you mean! I’m perfectly well. If you are all that interested, I had to come here on urgent and private business. It was so urgent I had to resort to this — this subterfuge.’

Radnitz sat down in a big lounging chair. He took a seal-skin cigar case from his pocket, selected a cigar, nipped off the end of it with a gold cutter, then slowly and deliberately lit it. It was only when he was satisfied that the cigar was burning evenly that he again looked at Sherman who was now sitting on the arm of a chair opposite him, wiping his sweating face nervously with his handkerchief.

‘Sufficiently urgent and sufficiently private for you to endanger your election as President of the United States?’ Radnitz asked softly.

I can’t discuss this with you!’ Sherman’s voice was sharp. ‘I wouldn’t be here unless it was vitally urgent.’

‘My dear Sherman, I think you must be forgetting our bargain.’ Radnitz’s face was now a cold, forbidding mask, ‘May I remind you that the money that is making it possible for you to become the President of the United States amounts to $35,000,000. May I also remind you that the money that is making this possible is half mine… that I have put up half this sum from my own personal funds.’ He leaned forward, his eyes suddenly alight with a contained, but burning rage.

‘Do you imagine I will tolerate stupid behaviour from any man who owes me such a sum? Stupid behaviour? That is putting it mildly. You have been reckless and I consider the risk you have taken coming here disgraceful! If someone recognises you… some cheap hack of a newspaper man… anyone… your chances of becoming President are completely and utterly damned and my money will be lost. I promised you that I would make you President. In turn, you promised me the Arcadia Dam contract. Now here you are in this ridiculous disguise… here in Paris.’

Sherman squirmed uneasily. It was true that he and Radnitz had made a bargain. Radnitz wanted the contract to build the Arcadia Dam… the biggest and most expensive project on the agenda of the coming term which would cost the nation $500,000,000. Sherman had agreed that Radnitz should not only get the contract if he (Sherman) became President, but would receive five per cent of the total cost for his fee. Sherman knew that if it wasn’t for Radnitz’s enormous political influence and his fantastic wealth, he would not have been nominated for the Presidency in spite of his own personal wealth. So they had made the bargain.

Sherman fell back on his charm that had won over so many of his opponents, but in this small, luxury room, he realised that his charm didn’t make much impact.

He forced a smile as he said, ‘Now, Radnitz, there is no need for you to worry. You wouldn’t have known of this visit of mine but for this chance meeting… no one else does.’

‘Chance? You say I wouldn’t have known?’ the guttural voice grated on Sherman’s ears. ‘I knew when you left New York. I knew you were in Paris. I know you have met Dorey of the CIA. That is why I am here — two hours ahead of my flight to Rabut. I am here because I want to know why you have taken this irresponsible risk. I demand to know!’

Sherman stared at him, shrinking a little under the glaring rage that burned from the small, venomous eyes.

‘You knew?’ Sherman felt blood leaving his face. ‘I don’t believe it! How could you know?’

Radnitz made a savage, impatient movement with his hand.

‘You are an important investment, Sherman. I have agents who are well paid to keep me informed about all my investments… especially you. I am asking you why you are here.’

Sherman licked his dry lips.

‘This is a private matter. It is nothing to do with you. I can’t discuss it.’

Radnitz drew on his cigar. His hooded eyes never left Sherman’s sweating face.

‘Why did you go to Dorey and not to me?’

Sherman hesitated, then he said with an effort. ‘Dorey was my only hope for help. He and I have been friends for a long time… I mean real friends.’

Radnitz’s thin lips curved into a pitying smile.

‘So you don’t consider me as a friend?’

Sherman looked directly at him, then slowly shook his head.

‘No… I look on you as a powerful associate, but not as my friend.’

‘So you have put your trust in a fool like Dorey?’ Radnitz touched the ash off his cigar and it dropped onto the thick, green carpet. ‘You begin to worry me. I am now wondering if you have the personality, the authority and the necessary leadership to make for a great President.’ He leaned forward. ‘Don’t you realise that if you are in urgent, personal trouble, you don’t go to friends? You come to people like myself who has an investment in you and who knows how to handle any kind of trouble. So tell me… what is this personal and urgent trouble of yours?’

‘Dorey is no fool!’ Sherman exclaimed. ‘He is handling this and I am satisfied he will produce results!’

‘I asked you: what is this personal and urgent trouble? I have a right to know.’

Sherman thought rapidly. Perhaps he had been irresponsible in rushing off to Paris to consult Dorey who had only been able to offer him the services of a man who Dorey had admitted was something of a crook. Maybe he (Sherman) should have consulted Radnitz and dumped the whole sordid affair in his lap, but Mary had been against consulting Radnitz.

She feared and hated this fat, squat German. When Sherman had asked her if she thought he should see Radnitz, she had begged him not to. Now, although he still refused to accept Radnitz’s estimate of Dorey, he began to wonder if he should have listened to his wife’s advice and instead, have gone immediately to Radnitz. After all, Radnitz had everything to gain in helping him and he also had tremendous influence.

Quickly, he came to a decision.

‘I will tell you,’ he said. Briefly, he told Radnitz about the stag film, the threatening letter and also that there were three other films and his need to find his daughter.

Radnitz sat motionless, drawing on his cigar, bis hooded eyes veiled while he listened.

‘So you see,’ Sherman concluded, raising his hands helplessly. ‘I was desperate. Dorey is my friend. He is helping me. I had to take the risk of coming here, but now I can see I could have been hasty.’ He forced a smile. ‘I see now I should have come to you.’

Radnitz let rich-smelling smoke roll out of his thin-lipped mouth.

‘So Girland is handling this operation?’

Sherman regarded him.

‘Sounds as if you know this man.’

‘There are few men of his ilk — happily few -1 don’t know. I once employed him with disastrous results.(see ‘This Is For Real’) He is clever, cunning and dangerous… a man I would never trust.’

‘Dorey said he was my only chance to get these films.’

‘Yes… I think Dorey might be right. If one pays Girland enough, he delivers. He could find the films and also your daughter.’ Radnitz looked quizzingly at Sherman. ‘Then what?’

Sherman moved uneasily.

I will destroy the films and control my daughter.’

‘Will you? How old is your daughter?’

‘Twenty-four.’

‘So how will you control her?’

‘I’ll reason with her… persuade her…’

Radnitz made an impatient movement with his hands.

‘What do you know about your daughter, Sherman?’

Sherman looked away, frowning, then he said slowly, ‘She has always been tiresome, unruly… a rebel. I admit I don’t know much about her. I haven’t seen her for three years.’

‘ I know that. I have had her watched… she is part of my investment.’ Radnitz shifted his bulk in the chair. ‘What are your feelings about her?’

Sherman shrugged.

‘I can’t say I have any great feelings about her. She just doesn’t fit in with my way of life. It would be impossible to have her with us at the White House… utterly impossible.’

There was a long pause, then Radnitz said in his quiet, deadly voice, ‘Suppose some unfortunate accident happened to her and you lost her… would you mind?’

Sherman stared at the squat fat man who reminded him of a stone Buddha.

‘I don’t understand

‘You are wasting time!’ Radnitz’s voice was savage. ‘You heard what I asked you. If you never saw your daughter again, would you mind? That’s simple enough, isn’t it?’

Sherman hesitated, then slowly shook his head.

‘No. In fact, it would be a relief to me if I was sure I would never see her again. But why go into this? She’s here…making a nuisance of herself, and I have to accept it.’

‘Do you?’ Radnitz flicked ash again onto the carpet. ‘Your daughter presents a permanent embarrassment to you as long as she is alive. Suppose Girland is successful and he gets the films… what good does that do you? She can make other films or she can make other scandals. The fact is she hates you and your way of life as much as you dislike her and her way of life. I have had your daughter investigated. She is tied up with this stupid, juvenile Ban War organisation. She goes around with a man called Pierre Rosnold who runs this vapid organisation for profit. She is under his influence. He is politically minded if you can call his mind a mind. She and he are determined you should not be President. He, because you stand for the escalation of the Vietnam war and because he can profit by his power: she, because you are her father and she wants revenge for the way you have neglected her.’ Radnitz paused to stare at Sherman. ‘Children have a way of paying back old scores. You wanted to be rid of her, she resented it, and now she has you where she thinks she wants you.’ Again Radnitz paused. ‘This is why,’ he continued, ‘you should have brought this problem immediately to me. Dorey may find your daughter, but he would not silence her, nor would he silence Rosnold.’ The ice cold eyes surveyed Sherman. ‘But I would and can.’

Sherman felt sweat break out on his forehead.

I can’t listen to this kind of talk,’ he said. T am sure you don’t mean what you seem to be suggesting.’

‘What other solution is there to this problem?’ Radnitz asked. ‘Suggest something. Girland will probably find your daughter… then what?’

Sherman had no answer to this. He gnawed his lip, staring down at the carpet.

‘Are you going to allow a degenerate chit of a girl to stand between you and the White House?’ Radnitz asked. ‘Because of the way you have treated her in the past, she will stop at nothing to prevent you becoming President… and she has the power to do this if she is allowed to. These films can be found and destroyed… they are nothing. It is not the films that need to be destroyed… it is she.’

A voice broke in on this conversation, coming through the loudspeaker on the wall.

‘Passengers for Flight 025 to New York should now proceed to Gate 10. Thank you.’

Sherman got hastily to his feet

I must go,’ he said huskily. He looked at Radnitz for a brief, furtive moment, then looked away. T feel sure I can leave this in your hands…’

But Radnitz wasn’t going to let this tall, white-faced future President of the United States off his hook, nor let him shift has responsibilities nor let him salve his conscience so easily.

‘I am going to cancel my flight,’ he said. ‘I am at the Georges V hotel. When you get home, telephone Dorey and find out what is happening. Then telephone me. Is that understood?’

Sherman nodded and began edging to the door.

‘One moment…’ The ice cold eyes surveyed Sherman. T am to take it that I can arrange to get rid of your daughter?

Sherman swallowed and dabbed his face with his handkerchief.

I’ll must discuss it with Mary… but if you think there is no other alternative… I -1 suppose I must leave it to you.

Gillian has always…’ He stopped with a shudder. ‘I must go.’

‘Very well then, I will wait to hear from you. It is your responsibility. I will act if you say so.’

As Sherman hurried from the room, Radnitz made a grimace of contempt.

Vi sat on the bed, her eyes round as she listened to what Labrey was saying. He was sitting in the shabby armchair, facing her, a cigarette between his nicotine-stained fingers, his eyes glittering behind the green glasses.

At first she thought he was joking, but now she realised he was serious. As he talked on, she felt a cold chill of fear crawling over her.

Paul! Working for the Russians! She had a child-like terror of anything to do with the Russians. She had seen all the James Bond films. She had adored Michael Caine in his spy films. She had read about Philby and Blake. Spies fascinated her so long as they remained on the screen or in newspapers or in books, but now Paul was telling her she was committed… suddenly she was a spy for Russia!

‘I won’t do it!’ she said fiercely. ‘I won’t have anything to do with it! Take your things and get out! Now… do you hear?

This very minute!’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Labrey said wearily. ‘You’re going to do what I tell you! You’ve only got yourself to blame for this because you have hot pants. If you had left Girland alone, you wouldn’t be in this mess. Now you’ve got to make yourself useful.’

‘Girland?’ Bewildered, Vi clutched her wrap close to her ‘What has he to do with this?’

‘Don’t be so goddamn dumb! Girland is an agent as I am. You’re meeting him tonight. We want to know what he is up to and you are going to find out!’

‘Then I won’t meet him! A spy? Is he a spy? I’m not having anything to do with this! You pack your things and get out!’

‘My boss has decided you are going to work for us,’ Labrey said quietly. ‘He has decided, so you will work for us or else…’ He paused, staring at her through his green tinted glasses.

Vi shivered. The quietness of his voice was much more effective than if he had shouted at her. She was used to men shouting and getting into rages. During her short experience as a prostitute, so many men had shouted at her and she had learned how to handle them, but this quiet, deadly voice terrified her.

‘Or else… what?’ she asked, her voice quavering.

‘They have a technique with women who won’t cooperate,’ Labrey said. ‘Women are easy. You can’t hope to run away and hide. Sooner or later, wherever you are, they will find you. There are two things they can do: you are walking along some street and a man appears. He has a spray-gun of acid. You get the acid in your face, and your flesh peels off the way you skin an orange. That is one thing they can do. The other is they grab you and shove you in a car and take you to some house they have rented. Then they do things to you. I don’t know just what they do… I haven’t bothered to ask, but the girls after the treatment, don’t walk well’ He stared at her. "They have to keep their legs apart as they walk… so they hobble. I’ve heard girls prefer the acid to the other treatment…’

Vi regarded him in horror.

‘I don’t believe it! You’re trying to frighten me!’

Labrey got to his feet.

‘Think about it. Turn it over in your little mind. I’m not trying to frighten you. I’m sorry for you. You have a hook in your mouth now… and it won’t come out. You will go to this restaurant and meet Girland tonight. You will find out what he is planning to do. If you don’t find out, you will get the treatment. Nothing can save you. You can run, but they will always find you. So think about it.’

He left the sordid little room and taking the stairs three at a time, he made his way down to the street.

Girland eased open the door, leading to Mavis Paul’s office and moved silently into the room. If he had hoped to catch Dorey’s pretty secretary unawares, he was disappointed. She was about to enter Dorey’s office and she had the door half open.

‘You again?’ she said with a half-smile. She stepped into Dorey’s office, leaving the door wide open. ‘Mr Girland is here, sir.’

‘Send him right in,’ Dorey said, laying down his pen and pushing aside a file.

Girland entered the big room, giving Mavis a suggestive wink which she ignored.

‘Would you please do something for me?’ he said pausing. ‘Would you get the Alpenhoff Hotel at Garmisch on the phone for me?’

Mavis looked questioningly at Dorey who nodded.

‘Right away,’ she said and giving Girland a wide berth, she left the room.

Girland came over and helped himself to one of Dorey’s cigarettes. He sat on the arm of the visitor’s chair and lit the cigarette.

‘I’m making progress. I wanted to check with you. What do you know about Ban War… an organisation?’

Dorey shrugged.

‘It’s like the rest of them… they have about five thousand members… most of them young. Their headquarters is in a cellar club on the Left Bank. I’d say they are pretty harmless. They throw the occasional brick, squat in the streets, paint signs on the walls and generally enjoy themselves. They are no more violent, no more vicious than the rest of the anti-brigades.’

‘Gillian Sherman is a member.’ Girland went on to tell Dorey what he had learned that afternoon. ‘So it would seem that Rosnold and

Gillian have gone off to Garmisch. I’m catching the 07.50 flight to Munich tomorrow. From there I’ll hire a car and drive to Garmisch.’ He tapped ash into Dorey’s ashtray. T could catch up with this girl… just what do I do with her if I do catch up with her?’

‘You are to persuade her to give you the other three films and make her come back with you to Paris. You are to bring her to me. I’ll then arrange for her to be sent home.’

Girland lifted his eyebrows.

‘Suppose she tells me to jump into a lake… what then?’

Dorey moved impatiently.

‘This is part of your job, Girland. You are free to offer her any reasonable sum of money if she will co-operate. Sherman doesn’t care what this costs so long as he gets the films and gets his daughter home.’

‘Has it crossed Sherman’s small mind that she might not give a damn about money?’

Dorey stiffened.

‘That’s no way to talk about your future President, Girland. Don’t you realise this is a national emergency?’

Girland laughed.

‘Oh, come on! It isn’t. It’s Sherman’s emergency. I dare say the American public could easily find another President. But why should I care? Suppose she isn’t interested in money? There are still some people who aren’t interested in money… odd as it seems. Do you authorise me to kidnap her?’

‘I am paying you twenty thousand dollars to bring this girl here and get those films! I don’t wish to discuss how you will do it… do it!’

There came a tap on the door and Mavis looked in.

‘I have the Alpenhoff Hotel on the line,’ she said and withdrew.

Girland picked up the telephone receiver on Dorey’s desk.

‘Reception, please,’ he said, then went on, ‘Is Mr Pierre Rosnold staying with you?’ He listened, then said, ‘No, thank you. I just wanted to be sure he is still with you. Will you reserve a single room with bath for me for tomorrow… three or four days. Mark Girland. Fine… thank you,’ and he hung up. ‘He’s still there,’ he said to Dorey, ‘and I imagine she’ll be there too.’

‘Can’t you get off tonight?’

Girland shook his head.

‘Too late tonight.’ He was thinking of his date with Vi Martin. He believed in pleasure before business. ‘I’ll get off first thing tomorrow

morning. I’ll be in Munich by 9.15, pick up a Hertz car at the airport and be in Garmisch by 11.30. Can you get your.secretary to book me on the 07.50 flight?’

‘Of course. Your ticket will be waiting for you at the airport.’

‘Then I’ll get along.’

‘Keep me informed and be careful.’

As Girland started for the door, Dorey said, ‘There’s one thing you should know… Malik is in Paris.’

This news stopped Girland in his tracks.

I thought he was in Moscow, standing in a corner with a dunce cap on his head.’

‘He’s in Paris, but he is probably standing in a corner. Knowing Kovski, he could turn Malik onto this if they really mean to make trouble for Sherman.’

‘That would make this job a real beauty,’ Girlandsaid. ‘Well, okay, thanks for telling me.’

Dorey got to his feet and walked with Girland to the door. He stood in the doorwayas Girland passed Mavis who didn’t look up from her typing. Aware Dorey was watching him, Girland kept on his way down to the street.

He took a taxi to Benny Slade’s studio, made sure that the two guards he had hired were on the job, then he collected his car and drove back to his apartment. He didn’t bother to check to see if he was being followed. The time to make sure he wasn’t being followed was when he set off for Orly airport the following morning. Now, he could relax, reserve a table at Chez Garin, pack a bag, take a shower, have a couple of drinks, then stretch out on his bed until it was time to meet Vi Martin.

A few minutes to 21.00 hrs., Girland arrived at Chez Garin restaurant to.be welcomed by Georges Garin who, before coming to Paris, had lived for some years in Nuits-St. Georges where the truly great Burgundy wines are born.

As Girland was settling at his table, Vi arrived. The moment he saw her approaching him, he knew something was wrong. Th unnatural glitter in her eyes and her quick grimace of a smile as he got to his feet made him wonder if she wasn’t loaded with pep pills. He was disappointed. There was now something about her that made her less attractive, less sexually exciting than when he had first seen her.

She further dampened his spirits by declaring she wasn’t hungry. He had hoped that she would have enjoyed the decor of this gracious restaurant, but she didn’t look around her so when Garin joined them, Girland explained that Mademoiselle would prefer something very light. Garin suggested his truite soufflee explaining the trout was first boned, then stuffed with the pounded flesh of a pike. The trout was cooked in butter and served with a butter sauce to which was added almonds and raisins.

Watching her, Girland saw Vi cringe as Garin explained the dish, but she said quickly it sounded marvellous and she would have it. Feeling even more depressed, Girland ordered a steak au poivre en chemise. Garin suggested a slice of smoked salmo with buttered shrimps to begin the meal.

Vi was hipped up. Terrified by Labrey’s threats, she had decided to do what he told her to do. To get herself into the right mood, she had taken four Purple Heart pills before leaving her room. Their effect made her now feel light-headed, reckless but queasy. Somehow she managed to eat the smoked salmon. She prattled to Girland about Benny, her modelling work, what a gorgeous restaurant this was, about the movies she had seen in a non-stop flow that quickly got on Girland’s nerves.

Well. You can’t expect to pick them all the time, he thought as he toyed with his glass of Chablis. She looked marvellous. Now she was hipped to her eyeballs, and for God’s sake, woman! do stop this awful yakkiting!

Suddenly aware that she was boring him and suddenly terrified that she was handing this badly, Vi pulled herself together.

‘But tell me about yourself,’ she gushed. T want to know all about you… everything. How do you manage to live so well and not work?’

The truite soufflee and the steak au poivre arrived at this moment and Girland paused to discuss with Garin what Burgundy he should have with his steak. Having decided on a Nuits-StGeorges 1949 which knew would cost him enormously, but felt he deserved as a compensation for having being landed with this yakking girl, he turned his attention once more to her — this blonde beauty who was now overwhelming him with her gushing interest in his way of life.

‘I wouldn’t say I live well,’ Girland said. T get along. I’ve lived in Paris now for fifteen years. There are plenty of ways of making money here and there if you know the right people and know what to do.’

Vi pushed her trout about on her plate with her fork. She couldn’t bring herself to eat it. The pills were now making her feel bad.

‘That sounds marvellous.’ She patted his hand and smiled at him. ‘For instance, tell me, what are you doing tomorrow?’

Completely bored with her now, Girland glanced at his watch.

‘This time tomorrow I will be in Garmisch,’ he said. ‘I have a little deal on there.’

‘Garmisch? How wonderful! What kind of deal?’

Girland regarded her thoughtfully, then grinned.

‘Oh, a deal. What are you doing tomorrow?’

‘I’m modelling for Benny.’

Garmisch! Vi was thinking, aware that she was now feeling sick. She swallowed the rising saliva back. Garmisch! This was what Paul wanted to know! Well, at least, she had learned something. She could see Girland was disappointed in her, and she couldn’t blame him. Paul had said he was an agent. She was scared to ask further questions. She could make him suspicious.

All the fun and joy had gone out of her life now. She remembered Paul’s threat: You now have a hook in your mouth… and it won’t come out. The terror that was gnawing at her had ruined her evening. She had been crazy to have taken so many of those damned pills. Now the sight of the truite soufflee suddenly turned her stomach.

She felt if she didn’t get out at once, she would disgrace herself. She turned desperately to Girland, her face pallid, little beads of sweat on her upper lip.

‘I’m terribly sorry… I’m not well… I—I have this awful liver thing… it hits me…’ She got hastily to her feet. T — forgive me… I’m so sorry…’

Seeing her obvious distress, Girland moved quickly, taking her arm and leading her to the lobby. Garin came to his side.

‘A taxi,’ Girland said. ‘Mademoiselle is not well.’

There was a taxi waiting by the time Vi had put on her coat.

‘I want to go home alone,’ she said to Girland. She couldn’t another second of his company so great was her terror.

‘Thank you… I’m sorry…’.

‘But of course I’ll take you home,’ Girland said quietly.

Vi cried hysterically, T want to go alone! Leave me alone!’ Pushing past Girland, she ran out, got into the taxi and was driven away.

Girland stared after the taxi, then shrugged.

You can’t win all the time, he told himself as he walked back to his table, feeling depressed. His evening had collapsed under him.

The steak au poivre had been removed and was being kept hot. The wine waiter served the Burgundy. Girland received his steak, but he now found he had lost his appetite. A gruesome evening, he thought, but cheered up slightly after drinking a glass of the magnificent wine.

Later, he left the restaurant and got into his little Fiat. He sat for a long moment wondering what to do. The time now was 21.50 hrs. He wondered if he should go to the Poker Club where the game would be in full swing, but decided against it. He wasn’t in the mood, and besides, he reminded himself he would have to be up horribly early to catch the 07.50 flight to Munich. Feeling deflated, he decided to return to his apartment.

One of these days, he said to himself as he drove with the slow moving traffic, you’ 11 have to find yourself a permanent woman. You’re getting bored with looking after yourself… chasing rainbows.

He became even more gloomy with this thought until suddenly he caught sight of a blonde girl running along the sidewalk. She wore a red mini skirt and a tight-fitting white sweater. She ran easily well, and her long legs were slim and beautiful: her full breasts bounced joyfully as she ran.

Girland brightened immediately. So long as there were girls around like this one, he told himself, there must still be fun and hope left in this drab, drab world.

In a much better frame of mind, he continued on towards his apartment.

Vi lay on the bed. She was feeling better. She had only just managed to reach the toilet on the eighth floor before she had thrown up. She was now feeling relaxed, a little cold and still frightened, but better. She began to think of that delicious-looking trout left on the plate at Chez Garin and became aware she was hungry.

The door jerked open and Labrey came in. He stood in the doorway glaring at her.

‘What the hell are you doing back here?’ he snarled. He moved into the tiny room and slammed the door. ‘Why aren’t you with Girland?’

Vi cringed away from him.

I was ill… I did see him… I took too many pills. I had to leave.’

Labrey stood over her. He looked as if he were about to hit her.

Ill? Didn’t you find out anything, you stupid bitch?’

‘Dont’t call me that!’ Vi struggled to sit upright, but he put his hand over her face and slammed her back on the pillow.

‘Answer me!’

‘He told me he was going to Garmisch tomorrow.’

Labrey drew in a long, deep breath, then sat on the bed beside her. He put his hand on her arm, digging his fingers into her flesh.

‘Garmisch, Germany? Are you sure?’

‘How can I be sure?… he told me he was… you’re hurting me!’

‘What happened? Tell me everything!’

As he released the grip on her arm, Vi recounted the meeting at the restaurant and what was said.

Labrey considered what she had told him, then got to his feet. ‘All right. Stay here. I must telephone.’

‘But I’m hungry,’ Vi wailed.

‘Then come with me. I want to eat too.’

As Vi struggled off the bed, she asked, ‘Have I done right? Are you pleased with me?’

He suddenly smiled at her. The hateful, savage expression went off his face and he was again the Paul she knew.

‘You’ve done damn well… at least, I think so. Come on, let’s get out of here.’

At the bistro on Rue Lekain, Labrey left her to order the meal while he shut himself into the telephone booth. He got through to the Soviet Embassy and asked for Malik. Although it was now 21.30 hrs., Malik was still at his desk, plodding through the mass of paper work Kovski had left him.

Labrey reported that Girland was going to Garmisch the following morning.

‘Hold on,’ Malik said. There was a long pause, then he came back on the line. ‘There is only one morning flight to Munich at 07.50. The next flight is at 14.00 hrs. Girland will take the first flight. You are to travel with him. Find out where he is staying. Be careful. This man is very dangerous. I will follow on the next flight. Girland knows me. I can’t travel with him. I will wait for you at the Garmisch railway station. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Your girl is to come with me… she might be useful. Tell her to be at Orly airport at 01.15 hrs. How will I know her?’

Labrey stiffened.

‘She won’t come… she’s difficult.’

‘She is to come. Arrange it.’ The snap in Malik’s voice warned Labrey there was to be no farther argument. ‘How will I recognise her?’

‘She has blonde hair down to her shoulders. I will tell her to carry a copy of Paris Match.’

‘Very well. She is to be waiting outside Hertz Rental car office at Orly at 01.15 hrs. Your ticket to Munich will be at Air France’s information desk. You understand what you have to do and where to meet me?’

‘Yes. Then tomorrow,’ and Malik hung up.

Labrey stood for a long moment in the kiosk, then bracing himself, he walked back to where Vi was eating onion soup.

He sat down and began on his own onion soup.

She looked up, lifting her eyebrows.

‘Now what’s happening?’

He told her that she was to meet Malik at Orly and fly with him to Munich. Vi stared at him, blood leaving her face.

‘No! I won’t do it!’ she said, pushing aside the soup.

Labrey expected this reaction. He shrugged and went on eating.

‘All right,’ hesaid, without looking at her. ‘I’ve warned you. If you won’t do it… you take the consequences. They never take no for an answer… you either do what you are told or you get the treatment.’

Vi shivered.

‘Eat up!’ Labrey said. ‘You told me you were hungry.’

‘Paul! How could you do this to me?’ she said, tears in her eyes. ‘How could you?’

Labrey stared at her coldly.

‘I’ve done nothing.’ He stirred the soup as he continued to stare at her. ‘You went after Girland. If you hadn’t such hot pants for any man with money you wouldn’t be in this mess. Don’t blame me. But you went after him, now you have a hook in your mouth. It won’t and can’t come out. I’m sorry for you. You either do what you are told or you’ll get the treatment.’

‘I’ll go to the police V Vi said desperately. ‘They’ll protect me!’

‘Do you think so?’ Labrey shrugged and finished his soup. ‘Okay, go ahead and tell them. What can they do? Do you imagine they will give you a flic to walk behind you for months? You can’t get away. You’re hooked. You either do what they tell you or they will peel the skin off your face or shove a wedge between your legs.’

Vi sat for a long moment, her eyes closed, her hands clenched into fists on the table, then she pushed back her chair and got up.

‘I’ll go back and pack a bag,’ she said. T can’t eat any more.’

When she had gone, Labrey grimaced. He too had lost his appetite. When the waiter brought him a steak, he waved it away.