Grant was thinking fast. ‘Other prisoner.’ What had Zero meant? And then he remembered how Martinez had described a technique for making a man do something which went against his normal instincts. A man might not be willing to kill without reason when under hypnosis. But if he could be made to believe that another man was something else, a snake, or a wild animal or something beastly, then he would willingly destroy it. The Spaniard was taking no chances and had chosen the easier way out. They would bring a prisoner into the room. ‘The other prisoner’ Zero had called him. And then they would test the depth of Grant’s hypnotic trance by persuading him that he was being attacked by a wild animal. They would expect him to kill it. They had given him the stick. Which meant that they hoped the prisoner would die slowly.
Maya was still staring at him and he saw her freeze as the door opened.
There was a split second while every man in the room looked towards the door and at the silver blonde girl who was ushered in at gun-point by the same jailers.
Stefanie! Grant was taken off guard. He almost sprang from his chair and then his eye caught the TV screen. Maya and her guard were both looking away from him. His brain clicked with the swift precision of a computer. This was it. The one split second diversion he needed. He had been told to kill her. It was his cue for violence—and the men guarding Maya would be expecting it. If he could destroy the camera he would be home and dry!
And then Zero unexpectedly left the room. One part of Grant’s mind heard him say, ‘back in a couple of minutes. Hold everything.’
He flexed his right knee since the left shoe had been used for Martinez and was ‘empty.’ His heel touched his fingers and he pressed the spring which released the pivot mechanism.
Stefanie was listening to something which Hancke was saying and he drew a deep breath as the heel pivoted to his touch. Now it was going to be a moment of truth for everyone. And he had less than a minute to pull a fast one over the men in Maya’s studio who would be watching every movement and drinking in every sound.
The gentle tinkle of glass hadn’t been noticed and Grant continued to sit in his chair holding Lloyd’s shooting stick until he saw one man clutch his throat.
Martinez turned round in the same second and watched grimly as Grant leapt to his feet. Stefanie was only a few paces away and Grant aimed a vicious blow towards her head.
Another man had begun to choke and Grant swept the stick round again, this time aiming at her body.
Martinez was now smiling broadly. ‘Go for it,’ he shouted. ‘Kill it. Kill the creature before it kills you.’
And then men around him began to fall to the floor as Grant pulled himself up in front of the camera, clutched his throat and gasped for breath. He heard the whirr of an automatic motor and staggered towards Stefanie. The girl had slumped against the table and was gasping like a fish out of water. He lifted the stick, whirled it round his head and let it crash into the camera lens.
The shock of the blow almost broke his wrist but he continued to stagger forwards and then stumbled across the flex, ripping it from its attachment to the wall.
Both guards were now writhing on the parquet by the door and Grant saw that every man in the room had been immobilised. But two vital angles were still left. Zero and the mikes. First he ripped every flex from the wall. ‘And now,’ he muttered grimly, ‘the man.’
He had left the room, and it was going to be vital to catch him before a whiff of gas knocked him unconscious.
Grant dived through the door and into the hall. He could hear water running in a nearby toilet and poised himself outside. Zero came out at speed and Grant caught him in a tackle which sent them both crashing to the floor. The man’s mask slipped and his knee caught Grant in the flank as they rolled together over the rugs towards the entrance hall. The front door was half open and Grant could see through the plate glass to the drive beyond. He guessed that there would be more guards and dived clear of Zero’s fist as the man aimed a jab at his crutch.
Things weren’t moving fast enough.
He grabbed Zero’s thighs, wriggled on top of him and drove a fist into the side of his neck.
The man gasped and Grant felt him slump into unconsciousness as he stood up and dived back into the gas-filled room. The place was a shambles, but two men had a bulge at their armpits and the fat man called Marsden was carrying an automatic.
The thing was loaded and he slipped off the safety catch.
Zero was still ‘out’ but Grant was fighting for time and he clipped the man just below the right temple. He felt the body twitch and guessed that contre coup would take care of him for at least five minutes.
He cocked the gun and listened.
Two jailers seemed a small staff for a place like this. And then he heard it, the distant hum of conversation coming from the far end of a corridor beyond the hall.
He guessed that that might be the other end of the intercom and padded to the green baize door. There were at least two men inside. They were speaking French and Grant caught them as they were lying back on armchairs sipping a drink. But one of them moved with the speed of a snake and dived for the gun at his hip while the other gathered himself into a taut ball and threw himself across the room.
Grant’s first shot went wide but his second and third crashed home and the second man dropped almost at his feet.
He cut back to the gas-filled room. If there were any other guards around the shots would bring them at the double. He watched from the window as still another man walked with deceptive speed across the patio with a gun at his hip. Grant decided to play it cool and lay down on the floor beside Stefanie. The girl was flat unconscious but breathing regularly, and he waited taut with expectation, as he heard the third guard walk into the hall.
Footsteps paused at the door and then he saw the man walk inside. There was a look of blank amazement written all over his face as he stared unbelievingly at the mass of bodies. And then the gas caught him. His gun dropped with a clatter and a shot ripped out to bury itself in plaster not a metre from Hancke’s head while the man himself slumped slowly down, his knees bending grotesquely while he fought for breath.
A moment later and it was over.
Grant lifted a cigarette from a box on the table and returned to Zero. The man was still limp and he dragged him to the room at the back where he had marked a telephone. Lines were again clear and he gave the Admiral’s Paris number for the third time in less than two days.
‘Treble A One speaking, sir. SATAN immobilised and ready for collection. Will appreciate instructions.’
Admiral Cooper sounded impatient. ‘X234 disappeared shortly after returning your car this morning. Any information?’
Grant half smiled. ‘She is right beside me, sir. She must have been kidnapped, but as yet I have no details.’
There was a long silence. Grant knew that scramblers would give only half of the conversation to anyone who might be listening in and he proposed to stick to essentials. ‘Any instructions, sir?’
The Admiral still hesitated. ‘How many persons involved?’
‘Ten top people and three juniors.’
‘And information in re your lady friend?’
Grant hesitated. ‘Last seen on a television screen and believed to be still in France. In danger of her life and dead if the complicated bluff which I worked has failed to come off.’
Grant heard the Admiral snarl into his handkerchief. ‘That radio check we were keeping on her fizzled out without warning at eleven ack emma this morning. We were unable to get a beam on her and at first it seemed that she was clean away. Since then, however, there has been a steady monitor of the Gstaad phone line and presumably this conversation is also now on record. This led us to picking up the phone number of the place to which they have taken her and French police are already organising a raid.’
‘Then cancel it, sir.’ Grant was emphatic. ‘I’ve got a better way. And keep the locals out of it until I’ve got things organised. I need abou
t two or three hours.’
The Admiral again hesitated. ‘The Swiss Federal big-wigs are probably taking down every word we are saying. But I’ll do what I can. Three hours it is.’
Grant glanced at Zero and smiled. ‘Signing off, sir. Over.’
And then he covered Zero as the man began to surface. Marsden’s automatic wasn’t what he would have chosen for himself, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. ‘And now you,’ he said softly. ‘Stand up and let’s see how you like to be at the receiving end.’
Chapter Fourteen – ‘Ring of black water.’
‘My turn to ask questions,’ said Grant. ‘Where have you put Maya Koren?’
Zero had been shocked into near panic but now he was beginning to control himself and Grant knew that there was going to be trouble. He had four bullets left in his gun.
And S.A.M. in his pocket.
S.A.M.! What more refined method of torture could there be than to truss Zero up and leave him with that inferno of noise to dun his senses and drive him to the verge of insanity with its sheer avalanche of shrieking decibels. ‘Back to the toilet,’ he snapped. The room had only one tiny window set high in one wall and was ventilated through the ceiling. The man walked silently along the corridor with Grant’s gun burrowing into his spine. ‘Inside.’
Grant tautened with expectation as he touched S.A.M. and dropped it on the floor when he closed the door. There were a few sorbo rubber plugs in his hip pocket and he fixed them into position. Fifteen or twenty seconds would be enough. The torrent of sound rippled through even the closed door and Grant felt that in spite of protection his ear drums would be shattered to quivering pulp.
He returned to the toilet, whipped open the door and kicked S.A.M. into the hall. But Zero was still stunned when Grant picked up the case, snapped off the switch and slipped it back into his pocket. ‘Phone Mellerie 3609/241 and tell your men to bring Miss Koren back here at once.’
Zero spoke for the first time. ‘How did you discover that number?’
‘You answer questions,’ snapped Grant. ‘You don’t ask them. Moreover,’ he added, ‘I understand that you run a helicopter. It is now at Mellerie and your men will use it. I want Miss Koren here by return.’
Zero rubbed his hand over his head and Grant saw that the man was still shocked by the raging deluge of sound to which he had been exposed. ‘If you don’t phone and do as I say you’ll get another dose of that same instrument.’
‘And if I do as you ask?’
Grant shrugged his shoulders. ‘You get a quick end, but if you slip up I’ll lock you in that room till my latest toy has made you deaf and then I’ll take you slowly.’
Zero stared at him for a long moment. ‘They say every man has a price.’
Grant shook his head. ‘Not me.’
‘Not even Miss Koren’s life?’
Grant lifted the phone and began to dial. ‘Tell them to send her here by helicopter right away. She will travel only with the pilot and one guard, and make sure that your people don’t harm her.’
The number was ringing out as he handed over the phone. And then he saw Zero’s eyes harden with obstinacy. He hung up in the same second and lifted his automatic. ‘So you’ve more guts than I expected.’
‘Stalemate,’ said Zero softly. ‘I can take torture and I know how to die. But I’ll do as you wish if you give me a chance. Time to get to a frontier before you call the police.’
Grant weighed the risk. Admiral Cooper had given him the number. Both ADSAD and the French police had now marked the French address. Its grounds had been surveyed from the air and a helicopter had been pinpointed at a landing ground in the woods which surrounded the house. But Maya could be safely with him in less than an hour if Zero played ball. He hesitated. The man’s chances of getting clear away were remote. But a bargain was a bargain and if he agreed he would play his part even if it meant trouble with the Admiral.
‘Why not be sensible?’ Zero was very persuasive. ‘I’ll bring the girl here if you give me a chance.’
And then, impulsively, Grant nodded. ‘O.K. But you stay put till she arrives and then you’ve got one hour clear before I notify the police.’
The man was regaining his self-control. ‘A cigarette?’
Grant shook his head. ‘Later. Phone Mellerie. And keep it brief.’
Zero lifted the phone with an air of decision which was suspicious and Grant listened on an extension with his automatic pointing at Zero’s chest as he suddenly broke into French.
‘Gstaad speaking. Bring Mile. Koren by helicopter immediately. Use one guard in addition to the pilot.’
A thick voice replied at the other end. ‘Understood, m’sieur. But what has been happening? The television set broke down when your prisoner was striking the woman.’
Zero’s voice suddenly cracked with authority. ‘That is none of your business. Bring Miss Koren here at once.’
And Grant relaxed as he heard the man whisper. ‘Your pardon, m’sieur. She shall join you in less than fifty minutes. I shall pilot her myself.’
Zero hung up and drew lazily at his cigarette. ‘I have done my part. It will be a matter of honour for you to do yours.’
Grant stared at him with reluctant admiration. He wasn’t bluffing. Grant had known men who could take fantastic quotas of torture without cracking. Some even said that pain was a sort of drug. That you could become addicted and that you got a masochistic satisfaction from watching your tormentors go crazy when they failed to crack you. Even Tyler had not done so badly and he knew that without the girls he himself would never have gone so far. He could kill in cold blood but it took a special type of mind to mutilate a man and deliberately torture until his nerve cracked.
The Tyler business had been shocking. He could still see Winona running her knife around the man’s flesh. Nor would he forget Sultry’s broad smile of satisfaction as she watched and periodically half choked him with a rope which must have given him hell.
He sensed that Zero might be sincere: that the man felt he had made a bargain and that he would keep it. Almost subconsciously he lowered the automatic and half smiled as Zero asked one of the sixty-four thousand dollar questions. How had he succeeded in immobilising a room full of people and getting out himself unharmed?
He shook his head. ‘State secret.’
Zero stubbed out his cigarette. ‘Presumably it was a drug.’
‘Look,’ snapped Grant. ‘No talking and no questions. We’ve got to kill just under an hour. And you’re fortunate to be alive. So let’s keep everything cool and sit it out till the bitter end. But you get the all clear to beat it only after Maya Koren has been delivered in good shape and with no interference from your men.’
Zero nodded amiably. ‘Surely this question can be allowed. Why did you kill Tyler?’
Grant stared at him with a steady malice which made even Zero tighten with fear. ‘I didn’t kill him. And we’ll change the subject. In fact we’ll say nothing at all until that chopper touches down. And then you scram, taking with you the pilot and your guard,’ he added. ‘This is one time when I feel like being alone.’
Zero snapped open a cigar case and slupped off the end of a Jose Gener. ‘This is good for almost half an hour. Why don’t you be civilised and join me?’
Grant hesitated and then opened a cabinet beside the window. It must have held around a thousand cigars and for sure they would be safe.
‘And did Martinez really hypnotise you this afternoon?’ drawled Zero. ‘From all that has happened I rather fancy not.’
‘Not.’
‘I thought so.’ Zero shook his head. ‘He was too big for his boots. Hypnotism may work with semi-imbeciles, but I refuse to believe that men like ourselves can be put under with only a little mumbo-jumbo and some neck massage. It isn’t reasonable.’ He drew thoughtfully at his cigar. But vaguely Grant sensed a mounting tension as the hands of the clock slowly jerked with every minute. It would be black night when the chopper arrived. And the moon was l
ate in rising. ‘And the Negresses,’ said Zero. ‘I gather that you substituted false passports to confuse the police. One suspects that Sultry Mbawa and Winona X are still very much alive.’
‘No comment.’ Grant was beginning to feel at a disadvantage. The man had complete self-control and wore an air of sophisticated confidence which was deadly.
‘Be reasonable, Doctor. SATAN has been broken up and I shall have to retire on my savings. Why don’t you satisfy my curiosity?’
Grant smiled with cynical disbelief. ‘That I refuse to believe. I give you less than one year before things are moving again and moving fast. It ought to be easy enough to replace a board of directors. Men like you have a sharp eye for talent. Your juniors will simply be promoted.’
Zero shrugged his shoulders expressively. ‘Possibly. But,’ he added gently, ‘if we do reconstitute ourselves you will appreciate that this agreeable armistice must rapidly end. Because you have caused me a great deal of trouble, and it is simply because I accept that we are both gentlemen in the old-fashioned sense of the word that it is possible for us to talk like this now. We both have our own ideas of honour and I have given my word. Your ballerina friend will be safe for the next few hours. And of course no attempt will be made to deal with you. But afterwards.’ He waved his cigar. ‘For sure, David Grant, you will really have to die. It is much too expensive for us to allow you to go on living.’
Grant nodded and his voice was very sarcastic. ‘Private enemy number one, in fact.’
Zero smiled. ‘Funny how that figure “one” seems to tie up with your life. Treble A One. And Private Enemy Number One. Very appropriate.’
Grant’s automatic was still pointing directly at Zero’s chest. Every sense was alert. There had been long pauses in a stilted conversation and he figured it was nearing touch-down time for SATAN’s helicopter. ‘Where will it land?’ he asked curtly.
Kisses From Satan Page 17