"Can't do it, Bev. We've got to have that money. Steen's wanted, we need it to get him somewhere safe. Your twenty grand just isn't enough, you know that. And you can stop offering me your body, I won't take another man's girl."
"But—oh, all right, they're not far. Please be careful, Paul, they—This is the last one, if I can get Jim through this we're going to, to . . . ." She stopped talking, stared over my shoulder. I turned to see what she was looking at.
Dr. Prufro was running across the park, his suit coat unbuttoned and flapping wildly, his vest undone. There was grease on his hands, and he'd got a little smeared on his forehead which was dripping with sweat.
"Beverly, Beverly, thank God I got here in time, I had a flat, I thought I'd miss you . . . . Beverly, don't go with him! Don't do anything with him, don't even talk to him, he's a government agent, he and that Youngs girl, they're both agents!"
When I realized what he was saying I tried to shut him up, but he ignored me. "Beverly, you should have left a way for me to call you, I've been trying to reach you all day. This man, last night, this man and the Youngs girl, they killed some people, and then he said he'd have to go through their pockets so the Agency would know who they were. He's a government spy, they're just trying to get evidence on you." He fumbled in his pockets, breathing hard, and came up with something I recognized. "Look, here's his lighter. He killed Bert Packs."
She stared at him, then at me, back to him, not really understanding what he was saying. I looked at my watch. We had a few minutes to go before three, we could still make the meeting.
"Look, kid, what's with this creep? The last time I saw him was in Seattle when he paid me for some documents I gave him. Now why in hell would a U.S. agent give top secret information to him?"
"As evidence," he gasped. He looked in a bad way, he must have run a long way to get there and I thought he might have a heart attack. "I know how you people work, you want to catch the leaders," he panted. "But it didn't work, you've got me but you don't really have anything on Beverly, nothing you can charge her with, she'll be safe."
"Oh, cut it out," I told him, but it was no use. I could see that she believed him.
"They've got enough evidence on Jim and me both," she said. There was a toneless resignation in her voice. "It's too late, Doctor Prufro. Thanks for trying, anyway." She stood there staring, but he turned on me and shook his fist. I thought he was going to fight me, his face was white with rage.
I thought fast, came to a decision. "Look, you're right. I do work for the government, and you're both in big trouble. We can put Jim Vallery in the electric chair with what we have on him. But we aren't interested in small fry like you, we want your contact. We want the Chinese agent you deal with, and I'll trade you Jim Vallery's life for him."
"What—what do you mean?" There was a little life back in her eyes, a little hope again. I had to talk fast to keep it from going out.
"Take me to the meeting and act natural. We go through with it just as we were supposed to. If it works and we get the Chinese agent I'll arrange to have all three of you forgotten. That's the deal, Bev. You, Prufro, and Vallery are out of it if we get the mysterious Chinaman. Otherwise—do you think Jim can hide forever? I've already got the two of you. By the way, you're under arrest." It sounded good, anyway.
"I—Arthur, what do you think? Can he make a deal like that?"
Prufro shook his head sadly. "I don't know. I thought Jim had kept you out of this. Does he really have evidence against you?"
She nodded. "I was with Jim when we paid him for some documents, and when we arranged this meeting. And Jim actually gave them the money. Oh God, can they really hang him?" she asked me.
"Depends on what state they convict him in. Some federal prisons use an electric chair. I think they still hang at McNeil Island in Washington if you prefer that."
"You do not have to be deliberately crude," Prufro whined. "You are frightening Beverly."
"Damn right I'm frightening her," I snapped. "And you might try being a little scared yourself. You've ruined an important operation, don't think we won't make it as tough on you as we can. I've made my offer, now take it or leave it, time's running out."
"You promise Beverly complete immunity?" Prufro asked. He mopped his face as I nodded. "Your word as—you are an officer, aren't you?"
Hell, I thought. What difference would it make? But he was that kind of character. I didn't have the authority to make the deal, but I could say I could. "Of course. My word as an officer of the government. We'll let all three of you go . . . . You'll have to tell your whole story, everything you know, of course."
"All right, Beverly. If you take him to this meeting with the full knowledge of the government, they can't prosecute you for it. I think you should."
"But I can't—I—I'll give something away, I know I will . . . ."
"For God's sake, if you want to save your boyfriend get hold of yourself," I growled. I thought I was doing pretty well as the tough-guy act. I tried not to think of what Shearing would say about the way we'd muffed this. "Come on, let's go to your car."
She turned away quickly, starting to lead me off. I stopped her. "OK, Prufro, come on. I can't let you wander around loose."
"But he's not supposed to be at the meeting," she protested.
"He won't be. I've got a place to stash him. Come on, let's get moving."
We climbed into her big Caprice and I directed her around corners, through a couple of alleys, looking back to be sure we weren't followed, but I didn't think we would be. We'd eliminated the people who liked to follow me. I turned them into an alleyway, then into the garage to the safe house.
Steen came into the garage with a pistol. "For God's sake, what's this?" he said. "You got the money already?"
"No time to explain. Haven't made the meet yet, got to go before we miss it. Keep Prufro on ice. He knows I'm a government agent, says he hasn't told anyone else. He knows about Janie, no others in our operation, keep them out of his sight if they don't want him to. He was obviously in the car with Sobel and the other guy last night. Go on, get out, Prufro, you've come to rest. Tell Dr. Hoorne everything you know, it'll be good practice for the next time."
He nodded, then buttoned his vest and smoothed his hair before he got out of the car. "I—I hope it will be all right, Beverly," he said. "I—good luck to Jim, too." He walked out with Steen, very slowly, a wave of saddened dignity.
"OK, kid, on to the meeting!" I told her. "Move, Bev! If we're late the deal's off."
"All right." She backed out of the garage. "I—Paul, please, do you mean it? Will it be all right, will you let us go?"
"Sure, kid. No problem." None at all, I thought. Provided that Harry Shearing was in a mood to approve my deals. I wasn't sure how he'd take this, and we had only minutes.
They'd picked a good place. Santa Monica has a big amusement pier, and we met on the beach under it. Plenty of people milled around, and nobody paid us any attention. Crowds were strolling along the beach, grabbing hot dogs and eating them while walking. A group of leather-jacketed tough kids shot pool and drank beer in a place down the beach, while a girl no more than fifteen stood outside, gyrating to hard acid rock, her eyes closed. I began to wish they'd let her go inside. Above us we heard the organ music of a carousel, a gay happy tune.
Beverly walked down to the sand like a man on his way to a hanging. She was obviously scared, but she'd been scared of the whole deal before, maybe they wouldn't see her any different. She'd been all right in Seattle, but after that she'd been nervous; maybe it was the newspaper pictures of the two characters in the Pontiac, there's nothing like a couple of dead bodies to bring the realities home to you.
Vallery was waiting with a man who might have had some Oriental blood in him, but he could as easily have been an American with Indian ancestors. He was wearing dark shades and a thin nylon jacket over his sports shirt, and there was something about him that reminded me of Major Rubiro. The sunglasses, of course,
but there was more, that aura of danger and death that the Cuban had. He lounged against a piling with his hands in the windbreaker pockets and didn't say anything when Vallery introduced him as Mr. Hudson. We didn't shake hands.
"Anything phony?" Vallery asked.
Beverly gasped, looked at him, looked away, and said, "No. He says he can bring Hoorne when he sees the money." She looked defiantly at Hudson and Vallery and I took in a deep breath. "I still don't like this, but you're safe. Nobody followed us."
"Good." Vallery held out a big folding-type briefcase. "It's in here. You can't take it out and count it because of the meeting place you wanted."
"Sure. I'll manage." I squatted on my heels and opened the case, fished around in it. It was full of money. "How much is here?"
"A hundred thousand dollars. That's all they had in cash, I can't do better." He seemed worried.
"And your cut?"
"I—I already have mine, if this works out. That's your share."
"You guys haggle good, don't you? This take it or leave it?"
"Yes. There won't be any more."
"I take it. Give me a few minutes, I'll have Dr. Hoorne here."
"Just a minute. Bev, go with him and see that he doesn't do anything funny."
"But . . . ."
"Go," Vallery ordered. There was an edge to his voice I'd never heard him use with her before.
"All right." She went over and kissed him. I stood close to them, too close for her to pass the message that she'd intended.
"Let's go, then," I told her. "Come on, kid."
She tore herself away from him and followed me down the arcade. We went up hill to Ocean, and along it to a delicatessen.
"You try warning him again and the deal's off," I told her. "I can't trust you out of my sight, can I?"
"I—I won't tell him. I just wanted to . . . ."
"Yeah. You're not a very good actress anyway. Everybody on that beach thought you were scared of something." I dialed the number of the safe house.
"Yes?"
I went through the identification drill. "That last routine's compromised, the Henderson girl is with me," I added. "Steen, they're at the foot of the Santa Monica pier. I'll meet you at Ocean and Colorado. Right now."
"All right, I'm on my way. Here's somebody."
"Yeah." I didn't really want to talk to him, but what could I do? "Yes, sir."
"You are being overheard by the girl?" Shearing asked.
"Right."
"I have the story from Dr. Prufro. There was nothing else for you to do under the circumstances. We can discuss why it was necessary at another time. For now, can you keep the girl from giving them a warning?"
"I'm going to try like hell. I thought I'd suggest that I keep her while they have Steen." I heard Bev gasp as she realized what I'd said.
"I like that," Shearing replied. "Of course they might not buy it. Can she keep all this a secret?"
"No sir, not a chance. Given any time alone with Vallery she'll spill it all."
"Paul, this is extremely serious." It sure was, he'd used my real name over the telephone after warning me about it. "You must take whatever action is required to complete this mission. There is to be a meeting of the National Intelligence Board tomorrow and this operation is the agenda. Do you understand the significance of that?"
"Not really."
"It is extremely significant." There was a long pause. "I have no other instructions. I know you'll do your best."
"Sure. I always do. Is the deal I made OK? You approve?"
"What else can I do?"
"Then tell her that. With whatever restrictions you intend to make." I turned to Bev, still holding the phone so that Shearing could hear too. "This is my boss. He's going to talk about the arrangement we have. Here." I gave her the instrument. She listened for a minute, and I thought I saw some improvement in her expression. Then she handed it back.
"You better get going," Shearing said. "I told her I'd confirm the deal provided she continues to work with you. Satisfactory?"
"Yes, sir." I put the phone back on its hook and led Bev out.
"He—seems like a very nice man. It is going to be all right, isn't it?" she asked hopefully.
I'd never heard Shearing described as nice, and it certainly wasn't a word I would use for him, but hell, if it made her feel better it was all right with me.
It didn't take Steen long to get to Colorado and Ocean, and we walked down under the pier in near silence. Vallery and his escort were waiting as if they'd never moved. Vallery looked at Bev and raised his eyebrows, she nodded and muttered something about everything being all right. He licked his lips and handed me the briefcase. "You're to wait here until we're gone, Crane."
I bent over and looked through the case. The money was all there as far as I could tell. They hadn't done anything clever like substituting cut-up newspapers. I stood, nodded approval. "OK. But I won't be waiting alone, Dick."
"What—what do you mean?" I'd got the escort's attention too.
"I mean you're taking my friend with you. I've got nothing you want now. I want a little security for Steen, thank you, and your girlfriend will do nicely. She stays with me."
"No." Vallery was emphatic. "We'll be gone several days."
"I've got lots of time. You believe in freedom, right? Good business principles, right? She isn't going to get raped, but by God I'll have security for my buddy." I shrugged. "So it can take several days, I expected that. Just so he comes back."
"What—what will you do if he doesn't?" Bev asked.
"You won't like it," I told her. "But there's no chance of that, right? Your boyfriend is a good business man, right? You're not leaving with both of them, Dick."
"I think he has a good idea," Steen added. "I think, now, that I will not go unless she stays with him."
"No," Vallery insisted. "It—no, I'm not leaving her alone with you for that long."
"It's all right," Bev said. "Don't you trust me? Jealous?" Scared as she was, she wanted to hear him say it.
She didn't get the chance. Before Vallery could answer, Hudson intervened. "She will stay here. We will argue no more, come with us, Dr. Hoorne."
"All right," Steen answered. He looked around nervously. "If we are not back in—how long, Dick?"
"No more than two days," Hudson answered. "He will be here by this time of the day after tomorrow." The voice was even, a rich cultured voice with an educated quality as if he'd had professional speech training. "Now, let's go."
Vallery started to protest again, but Hudson cut him off with a quick precise gesture. Bev and I stood there, watching as Steen and Jim Vallery walked slowly up the hill, stood there long after they were out of sight. Behind us the carousel played a happy tune. Each of us wondered when we'd see our friend again.
Chapter Fifteen
I don't think she blinked her eyes the whole time she could see Vallery. After they were out of sight I waited a couple more minutes, then walked her to her car. I took a long twisting route, ending up five blocks from the safe house. We parked and I led her through the alleys and across lots until I was sure we weren't followed, finally into the safe house. Janie let us in.
"How did it go?" she asked. She was stern, all business, and I wondered if Shearing had read her out for getting caught. It seemed reasonable, and my turn was coming.
"OK. They took Hoorne and went off into the toolies. What next?"
"In there," she said. She pointed to a door. "I'll take Miss Henderson. Beverly, we can go upstairs if you'd like. Do you want anything? Coffee, a drink?"
"No. Just to get this nightmare over with—no, nothing thank you, Janie." She'd been staring at Janie, trying to convince herself of something. "Can you tell me what's going to happen now?"
"Sure. Let's go talk." Janie led her out, and I went through the door she'd indicated. Shearing had set up a command post inside. There was a big table in the middle of the room, which might have been the old dining room of the house. An
enormous map of the Los Angeles area was spread out on the table, covered by a piece of Plexiglas, and Nick was standing there with a pair of earphones and a plastic hush-phone mike. He was moving little colored blocks of wood around on the map with one hand. His right sleeve was empty, and I could see bandages across his shoulder. Sam de la Torres was hunched up in a corner of the room with another set of phones and had a little switchboard and microphone boom on a table in front of him.
Shearing was under the window in the big over-stuffed chair that must have been brought in from the other room for him. It still had holes in the arms, but he wasn't playing with the stuffing at the moment.
Red Dragon Page 14