“Cryptic,” said Georges. “Giving nothing away. Just like your call to him last night.”
“Had to be.”
“Why? Do you think his telephones are bugged? But Bill’s no fool. He makes a regular check on them—a matter of routine.”
“And on nothing else?”
“The whole place was thoroughly gone over before Bill and Nicole arrived there. Oh, come on, Tony. Parracini must know about Bill’s regular checks—he wouldn’t risk a bug in a ’phone.”
“What about a small listening device in the calendar on Bill’s desk—or in the blotter? Or how about a lamp-bulb with sensitive filaments, near every telephone?”
“Very specialised stuff. Where would Parracini get—oh, I see.” Georges was conscious of Tony’s raised eyebrow. “From his kind friends in Menton? But still... Does Parracini know enough about installing sophisticated devices? That wasn’t his line of business.”
“It doesn’t take much know-how to screw a light-bulb into a socket.”
“No, but it takes someone constantly monitoring. Parracini couldn’t sit around in his room all day, listening—”
“There could be a monitor installed in a near-by house on the Garavan hillside.”
It was a disturbing thought. Georges had no comment.
Tony said, “Look—they must be guarding Parracini as closely as possible. He’s too important. And they’ve had time to arrange all necessary precautions.”
Georges nodded. “One thing has been puzzling me. Surely he must have radio contact with Gorsky; so why did he have to meet him? Why even meet Nealey at the market yesterday morning?”
“I’ve been thinking about that too. There could be two very different reasons why he had to meet either of them. Nealey—because Nealey was handing him something more solid than a verbal message: one of your sophisticated gadgets, perhaps? Gorsky—because Parracini had been moved out of his cosy corner over the garage into a room next to Bernard’s and Brigitte’s. Perhaps he could only risk a very quick message on his transceiver, giving time and place for a meeting and important instructions. Possible?”
“Very possible.” Georges smiled as he added, “How he must have cursed Bill for moving him into the main house. No privacy for anyone these days.”
And then all their speculations ended with Emil’s signal. Tony answered it.
Emil’s usually placid voice was uneven and hurried. Tony listened quietly. “Put it together again, can you? Just as it was. Stow it on deck—some place unnoticeable but reachable. Don’t worry, the Sea Breeze will be safe as long as she is in harbour. So there’s no danger to anyone. I’ll join you well before eleven. Get ready to move out by then, Emil. Yes, you and I—we can handle her, can’t we?” A laugh that was genuine, a cheerful goodbye, and the exchange was over.
Georges said slowly, “He found something?”
Tony nodded. “It was taped to the starboard side of the hull, near the engines. He detached it, examined it. There was no time-mechanism, just a remote-control device.”
“And you told him to put the damned thing together—”
“We can always heave it overboard once we are far enough offshore.”
“Now, Tony,” Georges began warningly.
“Mustn’t keep Bill waiting.” Tony looked at his watch, moved towards the door. “All clear here?” Together they gave the room one last quick check.
“All clear.” Georges locked the door behind them, and they made their way down the staircase into the narrow street.
* * *
The Renault began climbing the twists and turns up the hill above Garavan Bay. It was a heavily wooded area, with a spread of houses and gardens hidden by walls and trees, dark, silent, mysterious in the sombre light between night and day. Bill’s place was as secluded as the others on this narrow road, but he was standing outside the gates to make sure Tony could identify it easily. So Georges’s arguments were cut short. Why, he had insisted, couldn’t he join Emil and Tony on the Sea Breeze once he had brought Gerard and the others from Nice, seen them safely aboard the Aurora? By that time he would have briefed them thoroughly.
“No,” Tony said as they came round one of the sharp turns and saw Bill ahead. “One of us has to stay with Gerard and his travelling companions. We know what’s been happening here; we know the arrangements. They don’t. That’s it, Georges. You’ve got to stick close—all the way. To Brussels. You’re in charge, actually, but don’t let Gerard notice it.” The Renault drew up. Tony had the door open. “Good luck, old boy. See you next week.” He was out, shaking hands with Bill, entering the gates with a last wave towards the car.
Georges drove on uphill to reach the highroad along the crest of Garavan. Tony was right, of course: Gerard would need a lot of extra details to persuade him to follow Tony’s plan without adding some variations of his own. Better not say it is Tony’s plan, Georges decided, not until we reach Brussels. Better let him think we have been following Commander James Hartwell’s instructions right from the beginning. And so to Nice airport. And to a most exacting cross-examination from three razor-blade minds, once they came out of shock. In Tony’s words, dicey, very dicey.
He put Tony out of his thoughts, concentrated on what he would say and how best he could tell it.
* * *
“Did my ’phone call waken the household?” Tony asked as Bill closed the gates behind them.
“Left them all sleeping. Who was that in the car with you—Georges? Why didn’t he stop off, say hello?”
“He’s on his way to the Nice airport.”
“Early, isn’t he?”
“Wants to make sure he arrives in time.”
“He’s a bright boy. Easy to work with.”
“That’s Georges,” said Tony. Looking at Bill’s handsome and honest face—oh yes, he could be as devious as the best of them, but basically Bill was a straightforward, no-nonsense-about-me type—Tony began thinking back to Georges’s remarks. About Parracini and sophisticated bugging devices that he could manage to install without much specialised knowledge. But what had he used to overhear Bill’s conversations? Because, Tony reminded himself, not all talk was made over a telephone. Apart from devices in set places, like a desk or a night-table, what the bloody hell did Parracini use to listen to Bill having a private word with Nicole on the terrace, or with Bernard in the garden? Or even to conversations like this one, with Bill now suggesting they’d head for the kitchen and rustle up some breakfast?
“Sounds good,” Tony said. The house was about a hundred yards away. Not far enough, he thought unhappily. “Let’s walk a little. I need the fresh air. Cooped up most of the night. You’ve a lot of garden here. How far does it stretch?”
“About five acres. We’ve kept a flower-bed or two near the terrace and pool, but all this—” Bill pointed to hedges and trees that sheltered elaborately-shaped plots—“we just let go. Too much work for Bernard.” Then, as Tony took the nearest brick path, leading away from the villa itself, Bill said, “You didn’t haul me out of bed to talk about horticulture. What’s your problem?”
At this moment, thought Tony, you are. I’ve got a rising suspicion that Parracini knew your telephone rang, is now up and around, and listening to every word we say. “Two things,” he replied. “The engine trouble we had on the Sea Breeze, and the weather.”
“Thought you had got the engine fixed.”
“We are still working on it. Oh, it’s safe enough, unless we run into any strong weather. The latest reports are predicting a possible south-easter by this afternoon. And that’s not a pleasing prospect, Bill, with an engine you can’t depend on.”
“Then the cruise idea is off.”
“No. It’s too good a security measure to pass up. But the cruise may have to be cut short if the weather prophets are right As soon as the wind freshens too much, we can easily slip into the nearest harbour before anyone starts feeling queasy. Wouldn’t want Gerard to be sea-sick, would we?”
“Gerar
d? Is he coming, too?”
“That’s the word this morning. He’s got some news for Parracini. A job with NATO—did you hear about it?”
“No.”
“Nor I, until Georges cued me in.”
“Does Parracini know? If so, why the hell didn’t he tell me?”
“Well, it wasn’t definite until Gerard pulled some strings and used his powers of persuasion. But it’s all set. One caution, Bill: let Gerard break the good news to Parracini. That’s Gerard’s pet project, you know. He really will be hopping mad if we jump in ahead of him.”
“This job for Parracini in NATO—”
“Very hush-hush, very important. That’s all I know.”
“A bit soon, isn’t it?”
“Gerard thinks not. It will depend, of course, on the debriefing during our little cruise. But I’m sure Parracini will be able to help clear up the outstanding questions.”
“About what?”
“About whom. Heinrich Nealey. He’s been under surveillance for the last three months. We know he worked for nine years in America as Alexis; and one of his last contacts there was a man called Oleg.” Are you listening, Parracini, are you listening? “It’s just possible that Parracini can add to our file on Alexis. And on Oleg, whose real name is Gorsky, Boris Gorsky.”
“I don’t think Parracini has much to add to his previous debriefing.”
“Memory can play tricks—blot out small facts that don’t seem important, recall them later by some new association of ideas.”
“Where is Gorsky now?”
“Haven’t a clue.” And that was true, in its way. Gorsky might be on Cap Martin, or in a cottage up on Garavan, or six miles away in Monte Carlo.
“Could he be in contact with Nealey again?”
“If he is, we’ll get him.”
“Through Nealey?”
“Yes. And we’ll pull in several of the smaller fry too—a pretty redhead who’s secretary to Maclehose, out at Shandon Villa, and at least three others working around the place. And they are bound to have set up a system of outside contacts. It could be quite a haul.”
“Contacts,” Bill said slowly. His grey eyes looked sombre, his pleasant features grim, his usual smile—white against a permanently tanned face—vanishing. He smoothed back his longish sun-bleached hair, now ruffled by the breeze, pulled the collar of his suede jacket up around his neck as if he suddenly felt chilled. “You think Nealey is on to us?”
Tony didn’t answer. He had been studying Bill closely. Casual dress—no cuff-links, this morning; and no tie for any clip to hold in place. The suede jacket would only be worn at odd moments, so forget the possibility of buttons being wired for sound. No rings. A belt-buckle, yes. And Bill’s watch, that old favourite he had worn for years. Or was it? As Bill’s wrist came up to smooth down his hair, then adjust his collar, the watch was in clear view.
Bill’s worry was growing. “You think this house could be under surveillance?” With his set-up Nealey must have gathered a lot of information—mostly for his own security—about recent rentals, strangers signing long-term leases.
“I’m sure they’ve been taking a close look at all new arrivals who’ve set up house in the last two months. That’s the reason why you and Parracini are going to meet these NATO Intelligence officers, instead of them coming to visit you here. We’ll have them, waiting for you, keeping out of sight. All you and Parracini have to do is get on the boat as quickly and discreetly as possible. And don’t be late.”
“Sailing when?”
“Didn’t I tell you eleven o’clock? So get to the dock half an hour before that, and you step on board by ten thirty-five at latest. Can do?”
“Why not sail as soon as we reach the Sea Breeze.”
“Better let us make sure that no one at the harbour is too interested in her—or you. Can you lend me your two men to help me keep watch?”
“Sure. You’re taking a hell of a lot of trouble for Parracini. Or is it for the NATO guys?”
“See right through me every time, don’t you? It’s the NATO guys who are my responsibility. And they are some of our top men. Nealey would give an arm and a leg to know their faces and put names to them.”
“A high-level meeting, then.” That at least pleased Bill.
“Yes. So let’s get down to the last details, synchronise watches, and—hey, Bill, yours is running ten minutes slow.”
“Can’t be. Only got it yesterday.” Bill peered at the elaborate watch-face. “Does everything but talk,” he said, “or show the time clearly. These damned numerals—” He froze as Tony held out his wrist, let him see his own watch. The two timepieces showed only one second of difference. “What the matter with—”
Quickly Tony put a finger up to his lips for silence, pointed at Bill’s watch; then jerked a thumb back in the direction of the house, and tapped an ear. Bill stared back at him. “Needs winding,” said Tony. “Or has it stopped altogether?” Tony unbuckled its strap, drew it off Bill’s wrist.
“What the hell—”
“Damned annoying,” Tony said. “You’d better use your old one.” He was feeling the weight of the new piece—it wasn’t excessive, seemed perfectly normal.
“Can’t,” Bill said. “It got smashed up last Sunday.”
“How on earth did you manage that?”
“Not me. It was Parracini and Nicole horsing around the pool. I laid my watch beside my chair while I went for a swim. They knocked the chair over, and the watch ended up under Parracini’s heel.”
“How much did you pay for this one?”
“It was a present—Nicole went half-shares on the purchase price and Parracini bought it yesterday morning.”
“Now that’s what I mean by his taking too many chances, wandering around town like that.” Tony had his all-purpose knife out, resisted trying to open the back of the watch—it would be tightly sealed anyway—and worked on its winder instead. Anything, he thought, to give Bill an excuse for not wearing it. “Careful, Bill,” he said. “You’ll break off that key if you—damn it, you have broken it!” Tony snapped it off as he spoke, hurled the watch into a near-by bush with bright purple flowers. “Let’s get one of your acres between it and us,” he said softly as he drew Bill far up the path. At last he was satisfied, and came to a halt in a one-time rose-garden. “Now we can get down to business.”
“You think there was a bug in that watch?” Bill demanded, half-angry, half-bewildered. “Who the hell could have—”
“Parracini. I’ll begin with him, and then go on to details about plans. Be prepared for a shock, Bill. But just listen, don’t ask questions—we haven’t time for that.” Tony plunged into the story of Parracini.
“I’ll say this for you, Bill,” he ended. “You got a grip of yourself more quickly than I did last night. It took me half an hour to calm down.”
“I’ll let go once he’s trapped in Brussels,” Bill said through his teeth. “Now, what about your plans?”
“Here’s our schedule.” Tony gave their timetable, the Aurora’s name and exact location in the marina below this hillside. “Got all that?”
Bill nodded. “We get there by ten twenty-five. No later.”
“And sail by ten thirty. Wait until you’ve got Parracini in the car, on your way to the port privé, before you mention the Aurora. That will take all your tact, Bill.”
“I’ll manage. I can tell him I just had a signal from you belaying the Sea Breeze, engine acting up again. As for the weather—you took care of that angle. If Parracini was listening, he caught an earful this morning.”
“And he is now locked in your bathroom, far enough away from Bernard and Brigitte or Nicole, trying to get a message to Gorsky on his transceiver. About Heinrich Nealey, requiescat in pace. And about Parracini’s triumph—accepted into NATO. I don’t think he will balk at the change from Sea Breeze to Aurora.”
“You baited the hook too well,” Bill said as they left the rose-garden, started walking down the seri
es of paths and steps. He frowned at some new problem. “Nicole—when do I tell her?”
“You don’t. She’s too attached to Parracini.”
“To Palladin, you mean. She admired him. He never took a nickel, worked for the West because he believed in us—such as we are,” Bill ended abruptly.
“To paraphrase old Winston, democracy may not be perfect, but it’s a damned sight better than anything else around.”
“Nicole—” Bill was still troubled about her.
“Just leave her in happy ignorance. I’ll tell her tonight, once I hear from you in Brussels.”
“She wants to come on the cruise too.”
“Impossible!” Tony was really startled. “Keep her out of it, Bill. She stays here. With Brigitte. And what about Bernard?”
“He was going down to the harbour with us, so that he could drive the Mercedes back here.”
“May I borrow him—and your car? Just briefly. I’ll tell him what I want done, myself. And where do I reach your two men by ’phone?”
“I’ll call them and pass on your instructions.” And then, as Tony raised an eyebrow, Bill reconsidered. “No, I won’t. Those damned bugs—I suppose I’ll have to leave them in place and not rouse Parracini’s suspicions.” So he gave Tony the ’phone number and the two names, with the identification password.
“Bless your sweet understanding heart. Won’t forget this,” Tony said, and he meant it.
“Okay, okay. Any other pointers you need to give me? Then what about some breakfast?”
“I’d better not meet Parracini. He may have noticed me last night among the onlookers at the Casino. If he sees me here with you—” Tony shook his head.
“How are you getting back to town?”
“I’ll start walking down the road. You send Bernard after me in that old rattletrap of his, and he can leave me near my hotel.”